if" ^'. i.t '^A '^'^'' ^ ' ^-^^y PRINCETON . NEW JERSEY PRESENTED BY Dr. Earl A. Pope Manson Professor of Bible Lafayette College The Earl A. Pope Collection BR 1700 .F74 1885 Frost, John, 1800-1859. Cyclopedia of eminent Christians of various CYCLOPEDIA EMINENT CHEISTIANS OP VARIOUS DEN-QMINATIOFS. BY JOHN FROST, LL.B. ▲UTHOB OV "PICTORIAL HISTORr OF THE UNITED STATES," WtO. JOHN B. ALDEN, PUBLISHER, 393 PEARL STREET, NEW YORK. 1885. Re-Entered according to Act of Congress. PREFACE. Among the various collections of lives which enrich our literature, I do not recollect to have seen any one which was formed upon the plan which I proposed to myself in undertaking the present work. It was my purpose to make a collection of the lives of men who were eminent for learning, science, ability, or philan- thropy ; men who had attracted attention by their emi- nence in some one of the paths which lead to high distinction among mankind; and who, at the same time, were remarkable for true Christian piety ; admit- ted on all hands to be good as well as great. If such a book shall only establish the fact that real piety is not incompatible with worldly eminence, it will have accomplishe] a good work. It will be seen that with some observance of cinouu- logical order, I have commenced as far back as the 14tli century, and have necessarily included a great variety of distinguished personages, alt of whom were considered eminent Christians m their tune. But in judging of the individual merits of persons who lived in the middle ages, it would not be just to refer them to the high standard of Christian character of the present xlay We should consider the circumstances in wliicb PREFACE. the early Christians were pktced; the darkness and general spirit of the age in which they lived. That which would be considered a relentless and blood-thirstv spirit of persecution in our times, would have been re- garded as only a stern adherence to religious duty in the fourteenth, fifteenth or sixteenth centuries, while on the other hand the liberal indulgence to opinion which prevails now would have been considered in those times a culpable indifference to religious truth. 1 state this point distinctly in explanation of my choice of several characters who were doubtless led mto error by the mistaken spirit of the age in which they lived. In n?aking the collection, I have had recourse to a great variety of authorities. In some few instances the lives are drawn from the works of persons of the same religious denomination as the subject, as in the case of Elizabeth Fry. But in most cases I have relied upon (vriters who could hardly be biased in their views of character by sectarian feelings. Many of the lives are condensed from voluminous biographies ; others are taken with little change from such collections as that of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge^ and ^^The Georgian Era." I have sought for the lives of Christians of various denominations ; but I am aware that there have been many very eminent Christians whose lives will not be found in this volume. Its limits forbid the idea of completeness. These specimens, however, will serve to incul(;ate the great moral and religious lessons which I had in view ; and I trust that my sincere desire to render a service to society by assembling together many brilliant examples of Christian virtue, will plead my excuse for any shortcomings which may be found m the execution of my design. CONTENTS. PASl JOHN WICLIF 9 JOHN HUSS 14 JEROME OF PRAGUE 26 GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA 30 JOHN CRAIG 36 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS 41 SIE THOMAS MORE 49 MARTIN LUTHER 58 PHILIP MELANCTHON 68 THOMAS CRANMER 77 HUGH LATIMER 86 NICHOLAS RIDLEY 92 ISABELLA OF CASTILE 96 ADMIRAL COLTGNI ]04 FREDERIC, ELECTOR OF SAXONY 113 JOHN HOOPER : 119 JOHN CALVIN 124 THEODORE BEZA 129 JOHN ROBINSON •. MS JOHN WINTHROP OF MASSACHUSETTS 138 ROGER WILLIAMS 142 JOHN WINTHROP OF CONNECTICUT 146 CATHARINE OF ARRAGON 147 KING EDWARD THE SIXTH „ 149 LADY JANE GREY 152 PIERRE RAMUS 164 a2 6 6 CONTENTS. PAOK JOHN MILTON 168 ULRIC ZAVINGLE 176 SIR HENRY VANE 183 JOHN KNOX 193 JACOB BOHME 200 HUGO GROTIUS 208 JOHN ELIOT 213 GEORGE FOX 218 INCREASE MATHER 221 COTTON MATHER 224 JOHN BUNYAN 226 RICHARD BAXTER 232 ANNE HUTCHINSON 242 JONATHAN EDWARDS 245 JONATHAN MAYHEW 247 TIMOTHY DWIGHT 250 ROBERT BOYLE 253 GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS 257 BLAISE PASCAL 267 JEREMY TAYLOR 275 SIR MATTHEW HALE 283 ISAAC BARROW , 295 JOHN RAY 298 ARgHBISHOP FENELON , 304 WILLIAxM PENN 312 SAMUEL JOHNSON 323 NICHOLAS COUNT ZINZENDORF 332 DAVID BRAINERD 33C JOHN WESLEY 344 GEORGE AVHITEFIELD 351 CHRISTIAN SCHWARTZ 304 JOSEPH ADDISON 373 ELIZABETH ROWE 378 GRANVILLE SHARP 379 HUGH BLAIR 880 COLONEL GARDINER 382 ARCHBISHOP TENISON 386 CONTENTS. 7 PAGE WILLIAM LAW 339 JOHN HOWARD 39O WILLIAM COWPER 396 JAMES HERVEY , 4O3 CHARLES WESLEY 4O6 HUMPHREY PRIDEAUX 414 EDWARD YOUNG 415 ISAAC WATTS 419 CHARLES CHAUNCY 423 CHARLES CHAUNCY 426 EZRA STILES 429 PHILIP DODDRIDGE 43I HANNAH MORE 439 DAVID ZIESBERGER 444 SIR ISAAC NEWTON 453 MATTHEW HENRY 457 HENRY SCOUGAL 453 JAMES SAURIN 460 JONAS HANWAY 4G2 SIR WILLIAM JONES 47I WILLIAM ROMAINE 477 JOSEPH BUTLER 480 RALPH CUDWORTH 482 JOHN FLAVEL 485 EDMUND CALAMY 48(j EDMUND CALAMY 487 ROBERT BARCLAY 489 SAMUEL CLARKE 491 JOHN OWEN 600 ROBERT LOWTH 602 CLADIUS BUCHANAN 605 ANNE HASSELTINE JUDSON 612 JOHN WILLIAM FLETCHER 519 ANNE LETITIA BARBAULD 621 TIEGINALD HEBER 624 WILLIAM CAREY 627 DR. MARSHMAN 686 g CONTENTS. PAOI ROBERT MORRISON 546 GEORGE LORD LYTTELTON 563 BEILBY PORTEUS 66" HENRY MARTYN 569 FELIX NEFF 571 WILLIAM WILBERFORCE 574 JOHN FREDERICK OBERLIN 582 HENRY KIRKE WHITE 589 THOMAS CHALMERS 594 ELIZABETH FRY 598 ROBERT HALL 608 THOMAS CLARKSON 621 DR. THOMAS ARNOLD 623 THOMAS WILSON 627 ROBERT ROBINSON 630 DANIEL NEAL 637 LEGH RICHMOND 339 JAMES MONTGOMERY 640 JANE TAYLOR 645 ELIZABETH CARTER 646 WILLIAM ALLEN 648 JOSEPH LANCASTER 652 JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY 656 THOMAS FOW^ELL BUXTON 659 SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE 6M LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. JOHN WICKLIFFE 9 JOHN HUBS 14 THOMAS CRANMER , 77 HUGH LATIMER. 86 JOHN CALVIN 124 JOHN KNOX 193 PENN'S TREATY WITH THE INDIANS 312 DEATH OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY 344 JOITX WICKFIFFE. LIVES OF Eminent Christians and Preachers. JOHN WICLIP BOUT six miles distant from Richmond, in Yorkshire, England, is the small village of Wiclif. It had long been the residence of a family of the same name, when it gave birth, about the year 1324, to its most dis- %^ tinguished native, commonly called the first English Reformer. The family, says a late writer, possessed wealth and consequence. Though the name of the reformer is not to be found in the extant records of the household, it is probable that he belonged to it. Perhaps the spirit of the times, and zeal for the established hierarchy, may have led it to disclaim the only person who has saved its name from absolute ob- scurity. John Wiclif was first admitted at Queen's Col- lege, Oxford, but speedily removed to the more ancient establishment of Merton. Here he made great proficiency in the scholastic learning then in vogue, and the direction in which his talents were turned is indicated by the title which he early acquired of the Evangelic or Gospel Doctor. In 1356 he put forth a tract on the Last Age of the Church, remarkable not only from its ascribing the plague and othei 10 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. calamities which then afflicted the world to God's indignation at the sinfulness of man ; but also from its venturing pi-edictions of future calamities, all which were to be included in the fourteenth century, which was to be the last century of the world's existence. V^e may pass with slight notice a species of infatuation of which we have examples in our own times, but in his manner of treating this subject, we discover the principles of the reformer. Among the causes of those fearful calamities, among the sins which had awakened the wrath of the Almighty, he feared not to give the foremost place to the vices of the clergy, the rapacity and sensuality of priests, who perverted and corrupted the people. In this singular work, of which the foundation was laid in superstition, Wiclif first developed that free and bold spirit which dared to avow, without compromise, what it felt with force and tputh. We next find Wiclif engaged in his memorable contest with the mendicant orders, (begging friars.) Introduced into Eng- land in 1221, these friars, by the rigid morality and discipline which they professed, had at first rapidly gained the confidence of the people, and were supplanting the ancient ecclesiastical establishments, when, success causing a relaxation of their zeal, they became as obnoxious to the charge of luxury and sensuality as their predecessors ; so that, by the middle of the fourteenth century, the contest was conducted with greater success on the part of the original orders of clergy ; and some of the leading prelates of the day took part in it against the mendicants. Oxford became the field for the closest struggle, and the rising talents of Wiclif were warmly engaged in it, as early as the year 1360, and he persisted to the end of life in pursuing these beg- ging friars with the keenest argument and the bitterest invective. Similar to this was his opposition to the claim of Urban V. to the sovereignty of England, founded on the submission rendered by John to Innocent III. A zealous advocate of papacy challenged Wiclif to refute a book which he had put forth to vindicate the claim of Urban. Wiclif complied ; and his work, though rude in style, proves that even at that earl}^ day he had imbibed Strong opposition to the errors of Popery. Seven years after, Wiclif was raised to the Theological Chair at Oxford. At that time, the custom of filling the English Denefices with foreignei-s, Avho did not reside in Eiiglan<], had JOHN WICLIF. \l increased to a shameful extent, and though vigon usly opposed by the kings and the people, it was supported by the whole influence of the church. In 1374 an embassy, of which Wiclif was a member, was sent to Avignon to remonstrate on the sub- ject with Gregory XI. The embassy, so far as its direct object was concerned, ended in nothing ; but it enabled Wiclif to obtain a close insight into the springs which moved the world's eccle- siastical machinery. He returned to England, with a deter- mination to resist Popery with more zeal than he had ever done; and was rewarded by the prebend of Aust, and soon afterwards by the rectory of Lutterworth. He speedily com- menced his eiforts for reformation ; and, as might be expected, soon drew upon himself the suspicions of the hierarchy. A convocation, held February 3, 1377, summoned him to appear at St. Paul's, and clear himself from a charge of heresy. Hap- pily for Wiclif, he was at this time protected by the powerful John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster. That noblemen appeared with Wiclif at the council ; a tumult ensued ; the duke and the Bishop of London engaged in a disgraceful altercation ; and the meeting dispersed in disorder. The process against Wiclif was, however, suspended. In the same year, Wiclif published a treatise, defei.ding the parliament in their opposition to the pope's interference in the fiscal affairs of England. In this tract he examines the founda- tion of spiritual pretensions, declares the Bible to be the final appeal in all ecclesiastical disputes ; and boldly contrasts the character of Christ's vicar with that of Christ himself. Four bulls were immediately issued against him. " His holiness had been informed that John Wiclif, rector of the cliurch of Lutter- worth, and professor of the sacred page, had broken forth into a detestable insanity, and had dared to assert opinions utterly subversive of the church, and savouring of the perversit}" and ignorance of Marsilius of Padua and John of Gaudano, both of accursed memory;" Edward III. was exhorted to co-operate with the spiritual authorities for the suppression of this monstrous evil ; yet so slow were the movements of the secular arm, tliat the University of Oxford, to which one of the bulls had been sent, raised a question whether it should be received or in- dignantly rejected. In the following year, however, Wiclif was brought before the papal commissioners at Lambeth. At the 12 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. moment when these men were preparmg to gratify their revenge upon him, a sedition of the people in his favour interrupted their proceedings ; and before this could be appeased, a mes- sage, prohibiting any sentence against him, was received from the queen-mother. The reformer became more fearless. The Bible was the basis of his system; and every pretension or tenet repugnant to it he rejected. He denounced auricular confession ; declared pardons and indulgences to be devices for augmenting the power and wealth of the clergy, at the expense of public morality ; he paid no regard to excommunications and mterdicts; he pronounced confirmation an unnecessary cere- mony, invented to aggrandize episcopal dignity; he reprobated the celibacy of the clergy and monastic vows ; he maintained that bishops and priests, being of the same order, were improperly distinguished; and lastly; that the property claimed by the clergy was merely enjoyed by them in trust for the benefit of the people, and was disposable at the discretion of the secular government. Although Wiclif, in advocating these opinions, drew upon himself the hatred of the hierarchy, yet he was protected by a powerful party both at court and among the people. But in 1381 he advanced a step further. In a treatise respecting the eucharist, he confuted the popular belief on that important tenet, and explained its nature, in a manner similar to that of Lutlier in the sixteenth century ; while admitting a real pre- sence, he denied transubstantiation. Here was ground for a new. clamour; and Wiclif soon ascertained that the strength of his opponents was increasing through the desertions of his friends. Truth was still on his side ; but the subject being obscure, and consequently regarded with much prejudice, was more closely connected with the feelings of his hearers than almost any other. It afi'ected not merely their respect for a corrupt hierarchy, but their faith in what they had been taught to consider essential to salvation. Those who had formerly listened to him with delight, trembled when they heard him attacking the ground-work of their belief; his noble patrons perceived the impolicy of his new course; and John of Lan- caster especially commanded him to desist. Wiclif was unawed. In 1382 he was summoned before a synod held by Courtney, and, after undergoing an examination, was commanded to answer JOHN WICLIF. 13 before the Convocation of Oxford, for certain erroneoas opi- nions, especially that relating to the eucharist. Wiclif prepared to defend them. The Duke of Lancaster forsook him. The undaunted reformer, though now alone, published two confessions of faith, in which he asserted his adherence to his former belief. Six adversaries entered the lists against him, and at length the judges sentenced him to perpetual banishment from the Uni- versity of Oxford. He peacefully retired to his rectory at Lutterworth, and spent the two remaining years of his life in theological studies, and the discharge of his pastoral duties. The mildness of his sentence — so inconsistent with the spirit of that age — must astonish us; but whether the praise of modera- tion be due to the prelates' forbearing to press their enmity, or to the state's refusing to sanction their vengeance, is not known. Wiclif's doctrines were so far in advance of his age that we cannot but wonder how they escaped immediate extinction. With the people, however, they were ever cherished ; nor was the author neglectful of the means proper for their dissemina- tion. By translating the Bible, he increased the means of ascertaining their truth, or at least of detecting the falsehood of his adversaries' system ; and by his numerous missionaries, called Poor Priests, sent forth to propagate truth, he acquired much influence for good. In after years, the Lollards embraced and perpetuated his doctrines, and by their undeviating hostility to the abuses of Rome prepared the path for the Reformation. At an early period his works found their way into Bohemia, and kindled there the first spark of resistance to spiritual des- potism. Huss proclaimed his adherence to Wiclif's principles, and his respect for his person ; praying in public that '' on his departure from this life, he might be received into those regions whither the soul of Wiclif had gone, since he doubted not that he was a good and holy man, and worthy of r heavenly habi- tation." Thirty years after Wiclif's burial, his grave was opened by order of the council of Constance ; the sacred relics were turn from their sleeping place; and the ashes of the great reformer were strewn in a little brook which runs into the Avon. 14 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JOHN HUSS. ■'^' fj; T is a remarkable fact that the writings of ^^■; Wiclif should have given the first impulse to the reformation in the distant kingdom of i5\^"' Bohemia, where they were instrumental in ^f- converting a man not less eminent than the '^ great English reformer himself. This was the celebrated John Huss. Huss was born of poor parents, in the small town of Hussinetz, in the kino^dom of Bohemia, in 1373. These kind and simple peasants spared no effort to secure the ad- vantaixes of a o-ood education for their son. He finished his studie? r.t Praschatitz, a town not far from his birth-place , ind thence proceeded with his mother, then a widow, to the University of Prague, where he took the degrees of Bachelor and Master of Arts, (1396.) x\mong the few incidents preserved respecting the first years of Huss, the following is characteristic. One winter's evening, when reading by the fire the Life of St. Lawrence, his imagina- tion kindling at the narrative of the martyr's sufferings, he thrust his own hand into the flames. Being withheld by one of his fellow students from continuing it there, and then ques- tioned as to his design, he replied, "I was only trying what part of the tortures of this holy man I might be capable of enduring." During the time that he was a student, having become ser- vitor of a professor, tc whose library he thereby had access, he had an opportunity of acquiring a degree of theological informa- tion, which for that age was remarkable. Two years after taking the degree of Master of Arts, (1398,) he delivered public theological and philosophical lectures. In 1402, the office of Bohemian preacher in the Bethlehem chapel at Prague, which JOHh HUSS. JOHN HUSS. 5 was established- by a private foundation, was conferred upon him. Here he began to acquire influence over the people, with whom, as Avell as with the students, his sermons were very popular; and being soon after made confessor to the queen, Sophia of Bavaria, wife of King Wenceslaus, he thus gained access to the court. Neither birth, education, nor manner of life had prepared this mild, modest, and even timid man for the bold steps he so speedily adopted. When a British student first showed him the propositions of Wiclif, he was alarmed at their boldness, and beo;o;ed him to throw such dano-erous writings into the river Yet the scandalous struggle going on between the two pontiffs at this time, with all the license and corruption of the clergy, made so painful an impression on him as to disturb him even in his sleep. But his daily study of the Holy Scriptures, and his intercourse with the learned Jerome of Prague, as well as the crying abuse of indulgences, gradually opened his eyes ; and resuming the study of the writings of Wiclif, his early opi- nions gave way to reason, and his heart overflowed with fer- vent approbation. In answer to his fellow-collegians, who de- tected him reading these books, and reproachfully remarked, that, by a decree of the Council, the author had been sent to hell, he replied, " I only wish that my soul may reach the place where that excellent Briton now dwells." Various circumstances favoured in Bohemia the free move ment of men's minds at this time. The marriage of Richard II. of England to Anne, sister of the King of Bohemia, had greatlj increased the intercourse between the two countries, and the University of Prague was attracting the learned from all parts of Europe ; and King Wenceslaus, resenting his degradation from the imperial dignity, tolerated a movement distasteful to his adversaries, while Queen Sophia lent it her aid from sincere conviction. As the mind of the reformer became more thoroughly en- lightened, he assumed a more independent front, and by preach- ing and writing attacked the highest clergy, denouncing their scandalous lives, and the gross corruptions of the churcli they were abetting. All classes crowded to hear him. His fame spread through the empire, and attracted both friends and foes to Bohemia. 16 LIVES OF EMINENT OHRISTIANS. This powerful movement became public in 1407, the very year of the Council of Pisa. The Archbishop of Prague, Sbinko, a few months before the opening of the council, had anathema- tized Huss for exhorting the people to disregard the authority of Pope Gregory XII., and had become reconciled to him whon forced himself to recognise the authority of Alexander Y. Bat in 1409, this latter pontiff published a bull against Huss's doc- trines and those of Wiclif, forbidding them to be preached in any place whatever ; and the Archbishop Sbinko was directed to proceed against all offenders as heretics, and to suppress Wiclif's books by every means in his power. To this Huss replied, in terms similar to those subsequently used by Luther on a like occasion : "I appeal from Alexander ill-informed, to Alexander better-informed." The archbishop had, the year before, required all the holders of Wiclif's books to deposit them at the archiepiscopal palace; and now, emboldened by the pontiff's bull, he caused upwards of two hundred volumes, beautifully written and richly orna- mented, including the works, not only of Wiclif, but those of Huss and Jerome, as well as their predecessors, Miliez and Janow, mostly belonging to members of the University of Prague, to be committed to the flames. At the same time he prohibited the Bohemians preaching at the Bethlehem chapel. This act was deeply resented, and John Huss undertook the defence of the university, whose privileges had thus been vio- lated. His protest against the unjust sentence was finally sub- mitted to the University of Bologna ; while the prohibition to preach was disregarded by Huss. Meantime the burning of the books had occasioned a popular tumult, and Sbinko, flying to the king for protection, was coldly received. The University of Bologna gave judgment against the archbishop ; and Huss, strong in this decision, preferred a final appeal to the pope ; who, however, died before acting on the subject, and was succeeded by John XXIII. This pontiff summoned Huss to appear at Rome to answer for his offences. The (jueen, the nobility, tlie professors of the university, and the citizens besought King Wenceslaus not to deliver their favourite into the hands of so formidable an enemy The king sent a numerous embassy into Italy, to assure the pope that Huss was a worthy, pious, right-thinking Christian, JOHN HUBS. 17 falsely accused by his enemies ; and refusing his personal ap- pearance at Rome. This representation was disregarded, the envoys were imprisoned ; and Huss was excommunicated as a heretic. The intelligence of this proceeding, against which the Bohe- mian ambassador had solemnly protested, caused great discon- tent at Prague ; and this was especially directed against the archbishop, as the influential enemy of Huss. Sbiiiko fled to Hungary to implore the new emperor, Sigismund, brother of Wenceslaus, to put down the new heresy by force of arms, — a request which the emperor was only prevented from complying with, by his being occupied in a war with the Turks. The departure of Sbinko was regarded as a triumph by the Hussites, as the reformer's followers were now called, but his sudden death on the road being unjustly charged upon them, was turned into a weapon of offence by their enemies. Huss, meantime, though excommunicated, continued to preach ; and about this time secured the devoted friendship of Jerome of Prague, whose destiny was to be so signally united with his own. The reader will recollect that at this period three popes were dis- tracting Europe with their rival claims. Of these, John XXIII. , who Avas the most warlike, had become involved in a war with Ladislaus, king of Naples ; and to escape burdening his own revenue with expense, he proclaimed a crusade throughout Christendom, requiring support against his personal enemy. Among others, he sent a special bull to " his dearly beloved children," the Bohemians, to the effect that '' eternal salvation and absolution from sin might be obtained in exchange for their silver and gold, or even for their iron weapons used in his support." Against the iniquity of these proceedings, Huss boldly pro- tested, declaring, that the objects of the war had no relation to the state of Christianity, and that remission of sins and eternal salvation were to be sought for, not by the useless payment of Peter's pence, but by a life of faith and obedience to the law of God. Not satisfied with this, Huss affixed a placard to tiie doors of the churches in Prague, challenging both clergy and laity to a public discussion on this momentous question, ^* Whether a crusade preached against a Christian people could be recon- ciled with the honour of God, the .love of Christ, the duty of man, or the welfare of the country ?" Immense multitudes assembled 18 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. to hear the discussion, in which Huss and Jerome, resting ol the simple authority of the Bible, overturned the sophistry of their opponents, armed with the orthodox weapons of common law, bulls and decretals. Soon after this event, three men being imprisoned for having spoken against the pope and his indulgences, the students and people of Prague rose in arms and demanded their release ; Huss, being appealed to by the magistrates to calm the tumult, on the faith of their promise, assured the people that the prison- ers were pardoned, and sent them home with shouts of triumph. But as soon as tlie crowd was dispersed, the judges caused the captives to be beheaded. Their blood, flowing beneath the door of the pi'ison, gave the people notice of this base treachery, and a furious tumult instantly ensued : the council-house was stormed, the guilty judges fled for their lives, and the bodies of the victims were buried with great funeral pomp ; the students sing- ing in chorus over their tomb, '^ They are saints who have given up their bodies for the gospel of Christ." During the progress of this struggle for religious liberty, Pope John ^XIII. once more summoned Huss to Rome ; and, irritated at his disobedience, and alarmed at the progress of his opinions, he stirred up against him the secular powers. He wrote to Wenceshxus, to the King of France, and to the various universi- ties. Gerson replied in the name of the University of Paris, summing up with these words : " It only remains to put the axe of the secular arm to the root of this accursed tree." Meanwhile the schism, which furnished such discordant fruits elsewhere, aftbrded the Hussites new arguments for opposing the jurisdiction of the pope. "If we must obey," said tliey, " to whom is our obedience due ? Balthazar Cossa, called John XXIIL, is at Rome ; Angelo Corario, named Gregory XII., is at Rimini ; Peter de Lune, who calls himself Benedict XIII., is in Arragon. If one of them ought to be obeyed as the most Holy Father, how is it that he cannot be distinguished from the others, or that he fails to subdue these false antipopes ?" The disturbances still continuing in Bohemia, Huss, who was distrustful of the protection of the weak King Wenceslaus, went to the feudal lord of his birth-place, Nicholas of Ilussinetz, the generous protector of his boyhood, who received him with open. %rms. Here, and in many places in the circle of Bechin, ho JOHN HUSS. 19 preached with much success. Here also he wrote his memorable books, " On the Six Errors," and '< On the Church," in which he attacks transubstantiation, the belief in the pope and the saints, the efficacy of the absolution of a vicious priest, uncon- ditional obedience to earthly rulers, and simony, which was then extremely prevalent, and makes the Hol_y Scriptures the only rule in matters of religion. The approbation with which these doctrines wei'e received, both among the nobility and the common people, greatly in- creased the party of Huss ; and as nothing was nearer his heart than the diffusion of truth, he readily complied with the sum- mons of the Council of Constance to defend his opinions before the clergy of all nations. Wenceslaus gave him the Count Chlum and two other Bohemians of rank for his escort, and the Emperor Sigismund, by letters of safe conduct, became responsi- ble for his personal safety. With his noble escort, the poor excommunicated priest took his departure for Constance, with simple trust in Grod, and a courage supplied by conscious recti- tude, all unknown to his lordly enemy John XXIII., who at the same time was wending his way towards that eventful assembly. On the road, Huss was everywhere received by the people with welcome and rejoicing, and led with triumph through the streets of the several towns that lay on his way ; and at length, on the 3d of November, 1414, he arrived, with his Bohemian escort, at Constance. Less propitious were the omens that attended the approach of the pontiff to the city, his carriage liaving been overturned on one of the mountains which overlook it. On getting up, he passionately exclaimed, "By the power of Satan, behold me fallen ! why did I not remain quietly at Bologna?" and looking down on the city, he added, " I see how it is ; that is the pit where the foxes are snared !" On reaching Constance, the companions of Huss waited on the pope, announcing his arrival under a "safe-conduct" of the emperor, and asking further assurance of his personal safety. "Had he killed my own brother," replied the pope, "not a hair of his head should be touched during his stay here." Yet his destruction was already determined on. Nor was he insensible of his danger. " I confide altogether in my Saviour," he writes at this time. "I trust that he will accord me his Holy 20 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Spirit, to fortify me in his truth, so that I may face with courage temptations, prison, and if necessary a cruel death." Articles of indictment were secretly prepared against him, at the same time that he was induced to desist from preaching, under a false promise of being relieved from excommunication. Meantime the rumoured approach of the emperor hastened operations, and all being prepared, the Bishops of Augsburg and Trent, Avith the Mayor of Constance and others, broke in, unexpected, upon Huss while at dinner with Count Chlum, and summoned him to a private audience with the pope and cardi- nals. He replied, that he came to Constance to speak in open council, according to the ability God would give him. The bishops assured him that he had nothing to fear, and finally induced him and Count Chlum to accompany them to the papal palace, where they were instantly arrested and put under mili- tary guard. Chlum being soon after released, demanded an explanation of tliis violation of good faith, from the pope, who disclaimed the act, and referred him to the cardinals, who he said had overmastered him. The Bohemian knight next appealed to the cardinals, one of whom impudently denied the validity of the safe-conduct of a layman, and another declared, that no faith need be kept with heretics. After a week's confinement in a private house, Huss was taken to the prison of the Dominican monastery, on tlie banks of the Rhine, and immersed in one of its deepest and filthiest dungeons, where he was speedily brought to death's door by a raging fever ; and the pope, in order to save him for the future burning, sent his own physicians to attend him. Meantime the emperor, informed of what had passed by Count Chlum, instructed his ambassador, on the in- stant to set John Huss at liberty, and, if resistance were made, to break open the doors. Yet still he remained in prison. Sigismund listened to arguments of political expediency, and, to avert public odium for his bad faith, published a letter filled with the specious sophistries by which the priests had influenced himself. The intre})id Count Chlum made his last vain appeal to the people, and afiixed to the church doors an earnest protest against the violation of the imperial safe-conduct. On the 24tli of December, the emperor arrived at Consta-nce; and, soon after, the pretensions of the rival pontifls being dis- JOHN HTJSS. 21 eussed in the General Council, John XXIII., threatened with accusations of the most infamous crimes, was induced to resign the tiara. When Huss had been three months in prison, John XXIII. fled to Schaffhausen, one of his last acts beino-, to transfer Huss to the cardinals, who sent him to the castle of Gotleben, on the Rhine, where he was shut up, with irons on his feet ; and at night, a chain attached to the wall prevented the captive from moving from his bed. Thus, in defiance of the most solemn promise of the pope, he was handed over to the tender mercies of his sworn enemies. Ere a few months elapsed, however, the dethroned pontiff was ignominiously brought back to Constance, and conveyed a prisoner to the same fortress where his victim yet lingered, the prisoner of a ''better hope." The indefatigable Count Chlum, and other Bohemian nobles, used their most zealous exertions to prevail on the emperor, ftt this crisis, to ratify his own promises; but the utmost they could obtain was permission to visit him, in the presence of "witnesses. He was found by them in so miserable and ema- ciated a state, that these brave men were melted to tears, at the sight of his sufferings, and the meek spirit in which he bore them. When the cruel treatment of Huss became known in Boliemia, it excited universal indigna.tion. In the generous mind of Je- rome of Prague, sympathy for his friend overpowered all sense of danger, and he immediately set out for Constance. He was arrested at Herschau, in the Upper Palatinate, and brought to Constance on a cart, loaded with chains, where he was presented to a conclave of priests assembled at the convent of the Francis- cans. Delivered by them to the cruel Archbishop of Riga, he was thrown, heavily ironed, into the dark dungeon of a tower in the cemetry of St. Paul. His chains were riveted to a lofty beam, so as to prevent his sitting down ; while his arms were fastened with irons behind his neck, so as to force down his head. Such were the studied tortures with which papacy was accustomed to punish the expression of liberal opinions. In this dreadful dungeon Jerome was confined for a whole year, the severity of his treatment being relaxed only when his life threatened to fall a sacrifice to such rigour. The arre?t of Jerome, the pupil and friend of Huss, was a Bevere blow to him. In vain did he solicit the privilege of 22 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. sharing the same dungeon with his partner in misfortwne. All his entreaties on this head were sternly disregarded. The utmost that the friends of Huss could obtain for him was a public trial, which he owed to the interference of the emperor ; his enemies having striven in vain to avert this, from their dread of the influence of his eloquence on the assembly ; and this, for a time, revived the hopes of his faithful adherents. On the 7th of June, 1418, the council being assembled, the reformer was led before them by a numerous guard of soldiers. The emperor was present, and none had a more painful part to play than himself. Before him stood the same John Huss, loaded with chains, for whose liberty he had pledged his impe- rial word. He came with the vain hope of devising some means of escape for the prisoner that should wipe from his conscience the reproach under which it trembled. It is unnecessary to attempt an abstract of the complicated charges of heresy which were advanced on three successive appearances of the reformer before the council. Scarcely a show of justice was attempted. " Recantation or death" was the alternative offered, and the voice of the prisoner was drowned in this reiterated cry. Yet among the milder of his judges, there were not wanting those who earnestly seconded the emperor in striving to procure such a form of abjuration as might prove acceptable to Huss, and rescue them from the alternative of sanctioning his con- demnation. And perhaps the noble firmness of the martyr never shone more brightly than when he who had stood un- daunted before the threats of malignant judges, passed unmoved through the harder ordeal of the entreaties and tears of his friends. Sigismund awaited the result of their final effort with an anxiety that proves the acuteness with which he suffered under the stings of conscience. "John Huss," says a German author, "forced on the emperor the violation of his faith, and had a noble revenge in taking from him the power of rescuing him from the funeral pile." Sigismund was now taught by bitter experience, that a sceptre which has long been swayed by the councils of the hierarchy is not only gradually wrested from the bands of the rightful owner, but is turned into the means of his own punishment. Importuned by priests of all •»r(?.ers, he at length exclaimed, in bitterness, " Let him die JOHN HUSS. 23 then!" and when still further pressed, he even fixed the day for Huss's execution. Hitherto, in this vast assembly, we have only beheld the bitter enemies of truth and justice ; yet even here the dark picture is not unrelieved by light. The Cardinal Bishop of Ostia had, at first, like other Italians, regarded the reformer with horror as a wilful heretic. But now, when he became convinced of his sincerity, sympathy and admiration took the place of dislike, and he visited IJuss again and again in prison, striving by every means in his power to procure his deliverance, and even be- Beeching him with tears, to adopt such a form of recantation as might enable his friends to set him at liberty. Huss was deeply moved, on seeing his enemy thus transformed into an earnest friend: " Most reverend father," said he with tears, " I know not how to thank you for this kindness to a poor prisoner ; but," added he, pressing the bishop's hand to his heart, "I can- not deny the truth ; I would rather, by death, fall into the hands of the Lord, than live a victim to endless remorse." The bishop, overpowered with the interview, and the firmness of one thus in sight of a painful death, could only ejaculate, <' I cannot help thee ! I cannot condemn thee ! may God strengthen thee !" and, in tears, he bade him farewell. Nor should it be forgotten, that there is still shown, in the ch:ir of the church at Constance, the monument of an English bishop who died of grief at witnessing the death of John Iluss. The sixth of July, the forty-second birth-day of Huss, was opened with especial pomp by the council ; the emperor, the cardinals and bishops, and the princes of the empire were pre- sent, with an immense concourse of people, assembled to wit' ness his degradation. He was led from the prison in fetters, and kept outside till high mass was celebrated, lest the holy mysteries should be profaned by the presence of such a heretic. Thirty-nine articles of accusation were read against him. Huss repeatedly attempted to protest against their false accusations, but the Bishop of Florence commanded the beadles to stop his mouth by force. The prisoner knelt, and raising his hands to heaven, commended his cause to God. When at length ho was permitted to speak, he closed his brief reply in these me- morable words : " I determined of mine own free-will to appear before this council, under the public protection and faith of tlie 24 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS- emperor here present." John Huss, in pronouncing this, looked steadfastly at Sigismund, and a deep blush at once mounted to the imperial brow. The remembrance of this was long pre- served in Germany, and when, at the celebrated Diet of Worms, the enemies of Luther pressed Charles V. to have him seized; in contempt of his safe-conduct, "No," replied the emperor, '*I should not like to blush like Sigismund !" The ceremony of degradation was then commenced ; seven bishops, appointed for the purpose, clothed Hus« in sacerdotal habits, and placed the chalice in his hand, as if about to cele- brate mass. He was once more admonished to retract, and then the chalice was taken from him, and his robes stripped off, the removal of each being accompanied with an especial curse. A paper mitre, on which were painted frightful demons, was then placed on his head ; and thus arrayed, the seven prelates devoted his soul to the devil: '«And I," said Huss, "commend my soul to the Lord." He was then delivered into the hands of the secular power, and led forth to the place of execution. 'On the way, Huss was detained to witness the burning of his books in the churchyard, and smiled at the sight. According to the testimony, even of his enemies, he exhibited to the last moment of his life an astonishing dauntlessness of spirit. He was placed with his back to the stake, and bound to it with Avet cords, in addition to a strong iron chain, which secured his neck and feet, and held his head down to the wood. Fagots were then arranged about him, wood and straw being piled up to his knees. An old peasant, thinking to propitiate heaven, hastily brought a fagot of wood to the pile; but Huss only smiled on him, with a compassionate look, exclaiming, "0 holy innocence !" The Duke of Bavaria, then riding up to the stake, besought him not to die in his deadly errors ; but the reformer exclaimed in a clear voice, '< I have ever taught according to God's word, and will still hold fast the truth, which this very hour I shall seal with my death !" Astonished at a firmness, the source of wliich he could not understand, the duke clasped his hands over his face, and fled from the scene. Fire was then Bet to the pile, and the martyr no sooner beheld the blaze, than he began to sing the verse of an ancient Bohemian hymn. After the words, " And take me to thyself, to live with thee for ever," his voice was stifled by the smoke. For a few mo- JOHN HtJSS. 25 tnents his lips continued to move, as if in prayer. His head then sunk on his shoulders, and the ransomed spirit of the noble confessor was borne, on the flames of the martyr-pyre, " where tears are wiped from every eye, and sorrow is unknown." His habits were burned with him, part of his dress being re- covered, with large bribes, to be cast upon the pile, as if with the hope of blotting out every remembrance of him from the earth. When all was consumed, they were not content with merely removing the ashes, but digging up the earth, to the depth of four feet, they gathered the whole together, and threw it into the Rhine. 2C LIVES OF EMINLifT CHRISTIANS. JEROME FOULFISCH, COMMONLY CALLED JEROME OF PRAGUE. HIS eminent reformer, the pupil and friend of John Huss, was of the family of Foulfisch and was educated at the Universities of Prague, Paris, Cologne, and Heidelberg. In learning and eloquence he excelled Huss ; but was his inferior in prudence and moderation. His reputation for learning was so great, that he was employed by Ladislaus IL, of Poland, organize the University of Cracow ; and Si- 5mund of Hungary caused Jerome to preach be- him in Buda. The doctrines of Wiclif, which v^^i^^^v ') he introduced into bis preaching, subjected him to "/^|L^ a short imprisonment by the University of Vienna, but he was released by the people of Prague. He now took a zealous part, as we have already seen, in the contest of his friend Huss against the abuses of the hierarchy and the dissoluteness of the clergy, and not unfre- quently proceeded to violence. He attacked the worship of relics with his characteristic ardour, trampled them under foot, and caused the monks, who opposed him, to be arrested, and even had one thrown into the river Moldau. He publicly burned, in 1411, the bull of the crusade against Ladislaus of Naples, and the papal indulgences. AVhen John Huss was imprisoned at Constance, Jerome could not remain inactive, but hastened to his defence. We have already seen, that on his way, he was arrested, carried in chains to Constance, and closely imprisoned. The execution of John Huss afforded a fresh proof of the inefficacy of such means for the suppression of truth. The fire which consumed him gave new life to his doctrines, and the JEROME OF PRAGUE. 27 flames that surrounded his stake set Bohemia on fire. When the news reached Prague, the people flocked to the chapel of Bethlehem, and this man, whom the council had burned as a heretic, was honoured by the Bohemians as a martyr and a saint. Nor was it merely the illiterate crowd that rendered this homage to his memory ; the nobles of the kingdom met together, and, with their hands on their swords, swore to avenge him whom they regarded as the apostle of Bohemia. Meanwhile Jerome was still kept in irons, in the tower of St. Paul's cemetery ; no severity had been spared him in his noi- some dungeon, and his legs Avere already afflicted with incurable sores. In this state, he was brought out, and summoned, under pain of being burned, to abjure his errors ; human weakness prevailed, and the bold Jerome of Prague submitted himself to the will of the council. New forms of abjuration were devised, by the fiercer partisans of Rome, to humble the disciple of Huss, and new crimes brought forward by his accusers. His contempt, for relics was dwelt on with peculiar zeal ; and it was asserted that he had dared to uphold, <'that the veil of the Virgin was not more worthy of the homage of Christians than the skin of the ass on which Christ had ridden." But the mind of this noble follower of Huss speedily re- covered its elasticity, and on his subsequent examinations, he indignantly rejected their forms of recantation, and refused to acknowledge himself guilty of error. He spoke in the highest terms of Huss, and declared himself ready to follow him to the stake in defence of the truth. The assembly were excited to the utmost violence by his heroic profession, and called loudly for his condemnation. "What," exclaimed Jerome, "you have held me for a whole year in a frightful dungeon, till my fiesh has literally rotted off my bones, and do you suppose I fear to die?" A fresh burst of clamour rose against him, but he stood undaunted before them, and repelled their accusations with a boldness that made the fiercest quail. He was led back to his dungeon ; his hands, his arms, and his feet loaded with irons ; the intrepid follower of Huss had pronounced his own doom. A death thus voluntarily encountered, for a just and holy 28 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. cause, Is the more worthy of admiration, as it had been pre- viously shunned. The very circumstance of his early dread throws an additional interest round the last moments of Jerome, when, under even worse circumstances than his forerunner, he manifested all his intrepidity, without the presence of a sin- gle earthly friend to strengthen his soul in the trying hour. Jerome was brought forth from his dungeon, to face his per- secutors for the last time. The Bishop of Lodi ascended the pulpit, and in a long discourse inveighed against the captive, as an obstinate and accursed heretic, " whose neck is an iron sinew and thy brow brass !" Jerome replied to him, in bold and heart-stirring words, repelling those false accusations, but anew expressing his abhorrence at his own abjuration of the doctrines of Huss, and declaring his admiration of that lowly and just man. Finally, he appealed from their sentence, and summoned them to answer for it at the sacred tribunal of Jesus Christ. He was then condemned, as an excommunicated here- tic, declared accursed, and without further ceremony delivered over to the secular power. A high crown of paper, on which were painted demons in flames, was then brought in. Jerome, on seeing it, threw his hat on the ground, and placing it on his own head, exclaimed, " Jesus Christ, Avho died for me a sinner, wore a crown of thorns. I willingly wear this for him." The soldiers then seized him and led him away to death. On coming to the stake, to which he was about to be bound, he knelt in prayer to God. The executioners raised him while still praying, and having bound him to the stake with cords and chains, they heaped up around him the pile of wood and straw. When the wood was raised on a level with his head, his vestments were thrown on the pile, and the executioner proceeded to set fire to the mass behind, ashamed to be seen. <' Come forward boldly," exclaimed Je- rome, " apply the fire before my face. Had I been afraid, 1 should not be here." When it had taken fire, he said with a loud voice, ** Lord, into thy hands do I commit my spirit I" A.nd the voice of prayer was silenced in the consuming flames. His ashes, like those of Huss, were collected, and thrown into the Rhine ; renewing again the emblem of truth, borne by the mighty river into the bosom of the ocean, thence to dis- fieminate its healing virtues to every land. JEROME OF PRAGUE. 2^ The dying embers of their funeral piles kindled the moun- tain fires of Bohemia. The very ground where the stake was placed was hollowed out, and the earth on which they had suf- fered carried to Bohemia, and guarded with religious care. But the influence of the noble martyrs' example has not yet run its course; nor has the flame Avhich it kindled been yet extin- guished. It lighted the altars of the Reformation in the follow- ing century, and shone as a beacon fire through every succeeding age. Like a billow raised in the solitude of the vast ocean, it has gone on widening and increasing its sphere, rolling on an irresistible wave, unquelled by opposition, unchecked by every barrier in its path. Nor will the mighty movement stay its course, till the billow, dashed upon earth's furthest shore, still into the calm of gospel peace, and time shall disclose the tri- umphant end, when "they that be wise shall shine as the bright- ness of the firmament ; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever." 90 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. AYONAROLA, the connecting link between the reformation of John Huss and Martin Luther, was born at Ferrara, September 21, 1452. His parents were of noble extraction ; and in common with the Italian nobility of f/^^^^^f^-^ that day, were enthusiastic supporters of learn- W^^^v^^i ^"S" ^^^^^^' ^^i^ grandfather, young Savonarola )vL7^^^ made rapid advances in natural philosophy and ^^/ medicine ; and when this affectionate relative died, his pupil, then ten years old, was instructed 1l in logic and philosophy by his father, and in the classics by teachers of approved learning. Plato he studied with enthusiasm ; while the cultivation of his poetic powers and the perusal of Dante and Petrarch relieved the intervals of graver pursuits. But another subject had in the mean while engrossed the young student's attention. It was religion — an inward im- pulse that he was destined for something higher and better than the things of earth. His deep sensibility upon this subject had been noticed in earliest childhood ; and it was this which had rendered him an enthusiastic votary of Plato. He had wit- nessed the canonization of Catherine of Sienna, and afterwards neither the charms of literature, the prospects of fame, nor the fascinations of wealth could efface the impression of that event. In the hours of silence and solitude, or amid the hurry of busi- ness, his mind wandered to the splendid ceremonies of the ca- thedral— the adoration of the host, the narrative of faith and virtue, and the matchless music of the choir. A sense of his own sinfulness was ever present to his mind ; and its effect was heightened to intensity by the aid of a powerful imagina- tion, which, continually picturing the horrors of Dante's Pur- gatory, left to him rest neither day nor night. Hurried for- GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. 31 ward by such feelings, he resolved to seek, amid the seclusion and fancied holiness of a monastery, that peace Avhich the world could not afford. In April, 1475, he joined the Dominicans at Bologna. Savonarola was disappointed. The monastery of the age of Sixtus IV. and Alexander was no school to lead the inquiring mind to Christ. The young monk entered with a heart broken in view of his sins ; but he found there neither balm nor physi- cian. Sometimes he expounded Aristotle; sometimes Thomas Aquinas. Most of his brother monks, when not engaged in study or labour, rioted in immorality and wickedness ; and Savo- narola, though filled with anguish at the sense of his own mise- rable condition, felt that there was no one to whom he could apply for advice or relief. At this crisis he became acquainted with the Sacred Scriptures. Every thing else was forgotten. From that moment his chief occupation was to study them, to obey them, and apply their truths to his life and conscience. By them he learned that the real Catholic church consists of those who, through the grace of God, follow righteousness ; and that the nominal church had departed from primitive sim- plicity, had introduced ceremonies unauthorized by the word of God, and had substituted obedience to these rituals for obedi- ence to the command of God. Still he revered the Church of Rome ; he revered the priestly office ; and after a novitiate of seven years, he was himself ordained a priest. Savonarola began preaching at Florence during the Lent of 1483. On account of his awkward figure and unpleasant voice, his first efforts were unsuccessful, and he desisted. After two years of laborious application, he recommenced, with the most flattering results. Such was the loftiness of his thought, the fervour of his devotion, and his power in exposing the then pre- valent corruptions, that Lorenzo de' Medici invited him to become a permanent resident at Florence. The invitation was accepted, and Savonarola was created Prior of San Marco. Here his lectures, especially those on the Apocalyp.se, were crowded by hearers of all classes. Often there was no room for the monks, many of whom stood on the choir wall. His sermons were based on three points, that the church should be reformed, that all Italy was soon to be heavily visited for sin, and that the punish- ment would soon arrive. But his preaching was not confined 82 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. to such themes. ''None," he cried, "can glory in themselves; and if in the presence of God the question were put to all the righteous, ' Have you been saved by your own strength ?' they would all with one voice exclaim, *Not unto us, 0 Lord, but unto thy name be the glory.' " To support such appeals, he re- ferred continually to Scripture. "Not what saith the Church ; but what saith the Lord : give yourself to the study of the Sacred Scriptures : let us publicly confess the truth, the Sacred Scrip- tures have been locked up : this light has almost been extinguish- ed among men." At the monastery he restricted himself to four hours of rest, and employed the remaining time, not occupied in study or preaching, to hold spiritual conversation with the brethren under his charge, whom he visited for that purpose from cell to cell. He exhorted his patron Lorenzo to abandon the religion of the senses, and adopt that of the heart. During these labours of the faithful monk, the great Medici died; and about this time Savonarola became entangled in the politico-religious party which opposed the Medician influence. Piero de' Medici, successor to Lorenzo, was rash and vacillating ; riots and plunderings ensued ; Charles VIII. invaded Italy with a French army, and the republican party, to which Savonarola belonged, acquired the ascendency. The monk's conduct at this time may appear strange, unless we view it with strict refer- ence to the spirit of that age and country. He looked upon Charles VIII. as the instrument divinely appointed to efiect the reformation of Italy, and solemnly exhorted the monarch to re- gard his high commission. But when Charles, on visiting Flo- rence, treated the people with indignity, Savonarola again sought his presence, and delivered such a reproof as seldom meets royal ears. In all this we see the strange mixture of true religion and blind fanaticism which pervaded the most eminent minds of that day. The government which Savonarola wished to es- tablish was a pure theocracy, and for a while he seemed likely to efiect it. The Florentines, lately abandoned to frivolity ana vice, were animated through his preaching to religious enthu- fiiasm. Shops were shut till after the morning service. Games and public amusements were abandoned. Industry and sobriety wore rewarded, and attendance on religious services filled up the mtervals of necessary business. Gay processions were re- placed by religious dances, accompanied by the singing of hymns ; GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. 33 and at the season of carnival, books, statues, and pictures, which Savonarola had condemned as heathenish or immoral, were burned in the public squares. The good work extended even to the monasteries, whose members, especially those of the Dominicans, abandoned many evil habits, and adopted a purer code. Meanwhile, Alexander VI. assumed the tiara. That bad man soon observed the movements in Florence, of course with no friendly eye. Savonarola presently perceived that he was a mark- ed man; but instead of being daunted, he exclaimed, "Write to Rome, that this light is kindled in all places. Rome shall not quench this fire, as nevertheless it will endeavour to do. Nay, if it quenches it in one, then will another and a stronger break out." The pope found it necessary to proceed with caution against the favourite of a city like Florence. In 1495, he com- manded Savonarola to preach during Lent at Lucca, instead of Florence. The monk prepared to obey, but through the inter- ference of the magistrates, the order was revoked. Alexander then requested a Dominican bishop to repair to Florence, and controvert the brother's preaching. " Furnish me with arms then," answered the bishop, " for since Savonarola speaks truly of the clergy, I must be informed what to reply." It was then agreed, that the ofi"ender should be bought over with a cardinal's hat, and the bishop proceeded to Florence to open his tempta- tion. After the first interview with this man, Savonarola said, " Come to my sermon to-morrow, and you shall have my answer." On the morrow, the bishop was astounded with the most vehe- ment denunciation of the corruptions of the church. " No other red hat will I have," cried the preacher, "than that of martyr- dom, coloured with my own blood." The bishop returned to Rome. But a reaction took place in Florence : the strength and in- fluence of Savonarola's party began to decline. Meanwhile, the monk maintained a correspondence with the King of France, in which he denounced the vices of the pope. One of his letters fell into Alexander's hands, and the enraged pontifi" cited its author to appear at Rome. The citation was veiled under a mask of hy- pocritical professions, but Savonarola was prevented from obeying it by sickness. On recovering, he recommenced his denunciation of the clerical vices. His language at this period may remind 5 34 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. the reader of Luther's : " Should the church command any thing against the law of love, then say I, Thou art not tlie Roman church, nor a shepherd of the same, but a man, and dost err." In 1496, he received a command to abstain from preaching, but at request of the signory this was disobeyed. The pope accused him of destructive doctrines ; Savonarola denied the accusation, and boldly addressed letters to the sovereigns of Germany, France, Spain, Hungary, and England, requesting them to call tt general council. Alexander ordered the signory of Florence to deliver to him the son of blasphemy ; they respectfully replied, that the reports which his holiness had received concerning their preacher were false and calumnious. But a great change was at hand : Savonarola's friends lost influence daily, and a signory was elected which was decidedly opposed to him. Several times his life was in danger, and at length he was prohibited from preaching. The pope hailed these glad tidings with exultation; and on the 12th of May, 1497, ex communicated his inflexible opponent ; but the brief, directing the sentence to be executed, could not be carried into efi"ect. Savo- narola again mounted the pulpit ; crowds flocked to hear him ; they were excommunicated by the archbishop, and at length Florence was laid under the popish interdict. At length, harassed and calumniated on every side, Savona- rola decided upon a step which throws a shadow over the hitherto bright history of his career. Francesco di Puglia challenged him to prove his doctrine by the ordeal of fire. A Dominican named Prescia accepted the challenge, to the performance of which Savonarola agreed. Puglia, scorning to compete with any other than the " arch-heretic," named Giuliano Rondinelli as his champion. The 7th of April, 1798, Avas appointed for the trial. Amid a vast crowd, the Dominicans approached the pile, headed by Savonarola, whose powerful voice led their favourite chant, the sixty-eighth psalm. The Franciscans followed their cham- pion, barefoot and in silence. When the excitement of the bystanders was at its highest pitch, an unexpected difficulty arose. Prescia insisted on entering the fire with the host in his hand: the Franciscans loudly declared that it would be subjecting God to flames. During a violent dispute upon this point, a heavy Btorm deluged the pile with water, and drove the bystanders to their houses. The people, infuriated by thus losing their sport. GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. 35 accused Savonarola of crime, stormed his house, and dragged his champion and himself to prison. A court of sixteen judges of inquiry, and two commissioners from Eome, was appointed to try him. During a long examination, Savonarola resolute- ly defended his conduct, but was afterwards subjected to torture. Although no confession was elucidated, a protocol of his answers was forged and published. The reformer, with his brethren Dominico and Sylvestro, were condemned to be hanged and burned. The sentence was executed on the 23d of May. Savo- narola met his fate as became a martyr to Christian truth. When the bishop, taking him by the hand, said, "I separate thee from the church triumphant," he replied aloud, ''From the militant, but not from the triumphant ; that thou canst not do." When asked if he went composedly to meet death, he answered, " Should I not willingly die for His sake who willingly died for me, a sinful man ?" In a few moments he was launched into eternity, and his ashes were afterwards thrown into the Arno. 36 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS JOHN CRAIG. EW narratives are more interesting than the biography, imperfect and disconnected as it is, of the Scotch Dominican, John Craig. He was born in 1512, during the prosperous reign of King James IV. His father perished with that monarch on the disastrous field of Flodden, leaving his boy exposed to the calamities, which, subsequently to the immediate effects of that bat- tle, attended the long minority of James V. But he gave early promise of great abilities ; and at an age t5 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. About the same time he in two letters exhorted the inhabitants of Geneva to remain faithful to the new doctrines. The feelings of the Genevese had undergone a change since his flight, so that Cardinal Sadolet invited him to return to his church; and in 1541, a deputation from the magistrates induced the au- thorities of Strasburg to permit his recall. Calvin's duties as deputy to the Frankfort Diet, and to the Ratisbon Conference, hindered him from complying until September. On returning to Geneva, Calvin applied himself with increased zeal to the work of the ministry. Agreeable to his draft of ordinances concerning church discipline, which was immediately accepted by the council, a consistory, half lay, half clerical, was formed for the purpose of watching over morals and '< over the sup- port of the true doctrine." The manner in which the consistory, inspired and urged by Calvin, performed these duties, deserves severe censure ; and the part which Calvin took in the examina- tion and persecution of those opposed to him in doctrine, is a melancholy proof of the influence of a bad age and a spirit of illiberality upon a good character. A' magistrate was deposed and condemned to two months' imprisonment, because his life was irregular, and he was connected with the enemies of Calvin. One Gruet was beheaded, "because he had written profane letters and obscene verses, and endeavoured to overthrow the ordinances of the church." Michael Servetus, while passing through Geneva, in 1553, was arrested, and on Calvin's accusa- tion that in a book elsewhere published, he had attacked the mystery of the Trinity, was burnt. Let us remember that Calvin's age was the age of persecution; that his country was the country of persecution ; and that at an early age, his mind had been chafed and hardened by persecution. Circumstances may ameliorate where they cannot justify an action. At the same time Calvin actively engaged in works of useful- ness, lie preached almost daily, delivered three theological lectures in a week, attended all deliberations of the consistory, all sittings of the clerical association, all meetings of the coun- cils, transacted various political affairs, published commentaries on the Bible, and numerous other writings, and maintained a corre«5pondence with almost all the important men of Europe. Of his sermons in manuscript alone, the library of Geneva JOHN CALVIN. 127 contains more than two thousand. He died on the 27th of May, 1561, in the fifty-fifth year of his age. In a history of the Reformation, the names of Calvin and Luther are always associated together ; yet all regard them as antagonistic in the controverted points of religion. The essence of Calvin's creed consisted in what are called the five points — total depravity, irresistible grace, predestination, particular redemption, and the certain perseverance of the saints. Not- withstanding his adherence to these points, his followers were not recognised as a distinct ecclesiastical body until the Con- ference of Poissy, in 1561, when they rejected some portions of the Confession of Augsburg, and henceforward assumed the name of Calvinists. The sect is still powerful in Germany and France ; and Calvinism, in various degrees of purity, is the established belief of Presbyterians, Congregationalists, the Independent churches, and perhaps the greater portion of the Baptist church. Calvin has been alternately over-praised and over-abused by theological writers ; and much confusion and uncertainty still exist with regard to his peculiar structure of some tenets, and the extent to which he carried others. The only way in which doubt could be removed, and praise or cen- sure justly awarded, would be to examine an impartial synopsis of his labours and writings ; but unfortunately for the cause of truth, no such synopsis has as yet appeared. Calvin's constitution was weakly, and he suffered from fre- quent sickness, aggravated no doubt by heavy labour. He was temperate in habits, gloomy and inflexible in disposition. He married in 1539 ; but his wife died ten years after. He pos- sessed very imperfectly those qualities necessary to true friend- ship, and his highest passion appears to have been in the propa- gation of those opinions believed by him to be correct. Im- petuous and petulant, he was obliged to maintain a constant struggle in order to avoid the sin of anger. <' I have," he writes, " no harder battles against my sins, which are great and numer- ous, than those in which I seek to conquer my impatience. I have not yet gained the mastery over this raging beast." But his sincere thirst for truth, and the zeal with which he spoke and laboured for its propagation, were, if not the cause, at least the excuse for these failings. As a theologian, he was surpassed by no man of his age in acuteness of intellect, deep knowledge, 128 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. and dialectical skill. As a sectarian author, he stands among the first rank either in Latin or French. He was also an able jurist and politician. Among the reformers of that eventful age, he ranks with the most daring and successful. By rejecting all religious ceremonies, and refusing to compromise even on the least essential points, he rallied round him the highly culti- vated minds who regarded all religious forms as mummery, and the large class of unlearned, who delighted in novelty and rejoiced in being as far as possible from the old church. He is Becond only to Luther in his posthumous influence. THEODORE BEZA. 129 THEODORE BEZA. EZA, or De Beze, was born of noble parent- age at Yezelaj, in Burgundy, June 24, 1519. Like Calvin, he studied at Orleans, under the German philologer, Melchior Volmar, and became, at an early age, familiar with the ancient literature. At the age of twenty, he ■ was made a licentiate of law, when his family invited him to Paris, and an uncle conferred upon him the abbey of Froidmond. He was likewise in possession of a deceased brother's pro- perty, and two benefices. It was at this early age that he appeared as an author, in the Juvenalia, a collection of poems, uniting considerable wit with much petulance, and of which he Avas afterwards ashamed. Although he was at this time dissipated, yet his talents, his fine figure, and his extensive and honourable connections, opened to him the most splendid pros- pects. Tn 1543 he married secretly — a step which exerted a favourable influence upon his morals. While at Orleans, he had adopted as truth the reformed doctrines, and formed a resolution which, in all his irregularity, was never entirely lost sight of, to devote himself to their propagation. Severe ill- ness, some time after marriage, revived and strengthened this resolution. On recovering, he left Paris (1547) and repaired to Geneva. A professorship of the Greek language at Lausanne was offered to him. He accepted it, and, during ten years' residence at that place, his productions were various and im- portant. Among them were the Sacrifice of Abraham, a tragi- comic drama, written in French, a Latin translation of the New Testament, and a translation of the Psalms in French verse. During the same period, he delivered lectures on the Epistle to the Romans and the Epistles of Peter. AVhen Servetus was 17 130 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. burnt for the alleged crime of attacking the doctrine of the Trinity, Beza published a defence of the measure, and this, with some other writings on Predestination, the Communion, the Punishment of Heretics by Magistrates, &c., introduced him to the notice and favour of Calvin. In 1558, he was deputed by the Calvinists of Switzerland to obtain the intercession of the Protestant princes of Germany in behalf of the Huguenot pri- soners at Paris, and his mission to the court of Anthony, King of Navarre, was on the same errand. In the religious confer- ence at Poissy, (1561,) he advocated the rights of his party with an energy, presence of mind, and talent, which won the admiration of his opponents. In the following year, he de- nounced image worship at the St. Germain conference. While in Paris, he sometimes preached before the Queen of Navarre and the Prince of Cond^. During the civil war, he acted as chaplain to the prince, and, when the latter was captured, Beza joined Admiral Coligni. In 1563, Beza returned to Geneva. The comparative politi- cal tranquillity of Switzerland enabled him to devote much of his time to theological subjects, so that he engaged in various controversies in support of the Calvinistic doctrine. On Cal- vin's death, (1564,) Beza succeeded to his dignity and influ- ence, being considered the greatest theologian in the church. In 1571, he presided in the Synod of La Rochelle, and in the following year in that of Nismes. Fourteen years after, we find him opposing the theologians of Wurtemburg in the reli- gious conference at Montpelier. When sixty-nine years old, (1588,) this remarkable man married a second wife. At this period he repelled, with the energy and vivacity of youth, the assaults and calumnies of his sectarian and personal opponents. In 1597, the Jesuits circulated a report that he had died, and in the Catholic faith. Beza defeated the object of this false- hood by publishing a satirical poem ; while, at the same time, he resisted the efforts of St. Francis de Sales and the oifers of the pope to convert or buy him to Catholicism. In 1600, while on a visit to Henry IV. in the territory of Geneva, he was presented by that sovereign with five hundred ducats. Though then enfeebled by age, he continued to labour with great assi- duity in the cause of Protestantism, until October 13, 1605, when he expired of old age. THEODORE BEZA. 131 Next to Calvin, Beza is esteemed by the Calvinists as the apostle of their oreed. The associate and disciple of Calvin, and an ardent advocate of his doctrines, he seems to have in- herited the mantle which fell from that great m^m at his death. It seems probable that his judgment disagreed with Calvin's on several important points ; but he was willing to remain silent on these, rather than disturb the unity and prospects of the infant church. From this we may infer that his spirit was more liberal and his actions more tolerant than those of his teacher. It is a well-authenticated fact, that his fine personal appearance added considerably to the influence which he ex- erted over enemies as well as friends ; while his zeal, activity, eloquence, and varied learning, enabled him to resist success- fully every attack upon his doctrines or himself. In argument he was as severe and obstinate as Calvin. His writings, ex- planatory of Scripture, are still esteemed ; and the History of Calvinism in France, from 1521 to 1563, which is ascribed to him, is a valuable work. His correspondence was extensive, and, during the forty years that he presided over the church of Geneva, no important step was taken by it without his approbation. The following notice of Beza occurs in Mrs. Marsh's History of the Reformation in France : " Calvin had refused to appear at the colloquy of Poissy, and had nominated Theodore de Beze, or Beza, to represent him. Beza belonged to a noble family of the Nivernais, and had been educated at Bourges by the same Melchior Valmor, who is sup- posed to have converted Calvin. His youth had been one of licentious indulgence, which, unfortunately, some early poetical publications had rendered notorious ; but, at two and thirty, a dangerous illness had occasioned serious reflections. He em- braced the reformed religion, sold his benefices, married, and retired to Genc-va. Here Calvin, who soon became aware of his merits and abilities, received him. After some years' pro- bation, he was associated with himself in the ministry, and looked upon as his successor, somewhat to the surprise and in- dignation, it must be confessed, of the other ministers, who regarded Beza at first as little more than a wit and man of the world. But these sentiments were of short duration. His piety and regularity were unquestionable ; in erudition he sur- 1S«> LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. passed them all, and the elegance and facility of his style, the beauty of his person, and the grace and politeness of his man- ners served to recommend, in a remarkable degree, the doctrine he taught, and rendered him particularly useful in the conduct of those negotiations with foreign princes, in which the re- formed churches were so frequently engaged. He no sooner appeared at St. Germains, than his manners and accomplish- ments threw into the shade all the other ministers who accom- panied him." At the colloquy of Poissy, assembled with a view to recon cile the Huguenots to the Catholic church, the Cardinal of Lor- raine prepared a snare to entrap and confound Beza. He ex- tracted from certain books of the reformers a formula of faith, containing expressions on the Eucharist, to which he knew Beza and the ministers present would not assent, and summoned him to declare upon the following day whether he w^ould adopt the formula or not. " The embarrassment of the ministers was great. It was impossible to sign the formula, at the risk of being disavowed by their own churches. On the other hand, they felt that a refusal would afford the cardinal a pretext for breaking up the conferences, and would throw a stigma upon Calvin as the au- thor of this paper — a paper the publication of which, though written in a spirit of conciliation, he had, in fact, ever after- wards regretted. The address of Beza extricated them from this dilemma. When called upon for his answer, he said that, before he and his brothers declared their opinion upon this formula, they wished to know whether it was presented by the cardinal in his own name alone, or in that of the assembly of the clergy, as a means of reconciliation. The cardinal an- swered that it had not been necessary to consult the assembly. Beza asked whether the paper contained the cardinal's own confession, and whether he were himself ready to sign it. The cardinal, indignant to find himself thus questioned, replied an- grily that they appeared to forget who he was ; that they ought to know that he borrowed his opinions from no one, least of all from their divines. Beza quietly replied, ' If the matter stand thus, how can this paper produce conciliation ? and to what pur- pose shall we attach our signatures to a writing that neither you nor any of your bishops will subscribe ?' " JOHN ROBINSON 133 JOHN EOBINSON. HIS clergyman, who may be considered the father of our New England settlements, was orn in 1575, in some part of England, and appears to have been educated at the Uni- versity of Cambridge. He was at an early age described as of a learned, polished and modest spirit ; pious and studious of the truth, largely accomplished with gifts and qualifications, suitable to be a shepherd over the flock of Christ. ; received a benefice near Yarmouth ; and in 2, was invited by a congregation of Puritans, the counties of York and Lincoln, to become their pastor. He accepted the ofi"er, and with Richard Clifton, the associate pastor, entered zealously upon he work of truth. We need but hint at, without describing, the condition of the English seceders, during the reign of James I. In the general persecution of their difi'erent sects, Robinson's con- gregations endured their full share. Some were driven from their farms and their trades; some were confined to their houses ; some were thrown into prison. Despised, vilified, hunted like dogs, they collected in small bands and fled to other lands. Government perceived it, and shut their ports against them; but by concealment, or the payment of extravagant rates to the seamen, many contrived to reach the continent. Holland was their foster home; for in that country was enjoyed, what the people of no other European kingdom enjoyed — toleration of religious opinions. The sufi'erings of these fugitives were ex- treme. In 1607, some of them hired a ship in Boston, Lin- colnshire, and engaged a captain or master to take them to Holland. When they had embarked, he betrayed them to the 134 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. government officers. Thej robbed them of their money, books, and other articles, insulted the women, and carrying them back to the town, exposed them to the derision of the populace. In the following year, they hired a Dutch vessel, and though the women were weak and sickly, remained out a day in rough weather, waiting till they could embark. One boat-load had gained the deck, when a compan}^ of armed mounted men ap- peared, and the captain immediately put to sea. Those on shore, including all the women, were taken before magistrates, who dismissed them. Having sold their lands, goods, and cattle, they were obliged to depend upon charity. Their friends, after having being driven far north by a terrible storm, arrived at Amsterdam. They were subsequently joined by their friends and families. It was this band of emigrants, that Mr. Robinson, with the remainder of the Independent Puritans, joined in the fol- lowing year. He found there another congregation, that had come from England a considerable time before his own, and was conducted by Mr. John Smith. This man appears to have been unsteady in his opinions, and, though unwillingly, induced most of his flock to scatter. Fearing that the example might become contagious, Robinson proposed to his congregation to remove to Leyden. This they did one year after their arrival at Am- sterdam ; and at their new place of residence they remained eleven years. Here they enjoyed harmony among themselves, maintained friendly intercourse with the Dutch, and swelled so largely in numbers as at length to number three hundred communicants. Some incidents with which Robinson was personally connected, soon after his arrival in Leyden, are deserving of notice. In 1609, occurred the death of Arminius, founder of the Armenian school of doctrine. His successor, Episcopius, agreed in opinion with his master ; the associate professor, Polyander, defended Calvinism ; and the controversy between these men engendered such bitter feelings, that the disciples of one refused to attend the lectures of the other. Robinson attended the discourses of both; carefully weighed the arguments of each; and, deciding in favour of Calvinism, openly preached it to his congregation. So formidable an opponent could not be overlooked by the Armenians. In 1G13, Episcopius published several theses, JOHN ROBINSON. 135 ■^hich he engaged to defend against any opponent. Polyander and others urged Robinson to accept the challenge ; for some- time he declined; but at length, considering that it was hie duty, he consented. A day was appointed; the logical com- batants appeared ; and in the presence of a numerous assembly — ministers, laymen, professors, pupils, commoners — the discussion began. Of the result the x\rmenians have transmitted no record ; but according to Governor Bradford, a rigid Calvinist, Robinson was completely successful. A personal difference had occurred between Mr. Robinson and Dr. Ames, on the subject of separation from the Church of England. Afterwards Ames was obliged to flee from the High Commission Court ; a free conversation ensued between him and Robinson ; and the latter, after acknowledging that he had been in error, publicly recanted some of his more rigid notions con- cerning communion with the High Church. The doctrines most strenuously advocated by Robinson were, that the Scriptures, being inspired, contain the true religion; that every man pos- sesses the right to judge of their meaning ; that by them alone doctrines should be tried, and that all have a right to worship God as they choose. The creeds of the reformed churches of England, France, Geneva, Holland, he recognised as true, and admitted their members in communion. On minor points he contended that no church should consist of more members than can conveniently worship together ; that any appropriate num- ber of Christians may form a church ; that, after being incorpo- rated by some contract or covenant, expressed or implied, these Christians have a right to choose their church officers — pastors, elders, ruling elders, and deacons ; that elders, chosen and ordained, can rule the church only by consent of the brethren ; that in poAvers and privileges all churches are equal; that though it was well to observe days of fasting and thanks- giving, no day was holy save the Sabbath; that no merely human institution could control matters of religion, and that ecclesiastical censures should not enforce temporal penalties. Such were the tenets held by the simple fathers of a future nation; and for nine years they entertained and preached thera safely in Holland. But in 1617, they began seriously to think ^nf removing. The language and habits of the Dutch were not co.'igenial to them ; the loose observance of the Sabbath shocked 136 LIVES OF EMINENT CHEISTIANS. them , ihe climate was unfavourable to their health, the countr^r to their pursuits as husbandmen, the surrounding dissoluteness to their morals. Opposed to remaining any longer, and pro- hibited from returning to England, thej began seriously to medi- tate the founding of a colony where, unmolested, they could pursue their favourite avocations and enjo}^ their favourite reli- gion. The Dutch merchants gladl}' offered to convey them to some distant plantation ; but though cast out of their land by the rulers of that land, they still maintained their allegiance to it, and refused to be the inhabitants of any other. Many wished to settle in Guiana, of which Raleigh had given glowing accounts ; but the unhealthfulness of the climate and the proximity of the Spaniards were insuperable objections. At length the congre- gation decided upon joining the colony of Jamestown, in Vir- ginia ; John Carver and Robert Cushman were appointed agents to obtain the intercession of the Virginia Company at London with King James, that they might enjoy liberty of conscience, in their new district ; the Company received them kindly, and obtained for them many concessions. For obvious reasons their petition was not presented to the king ; and the agents returned "well pleased to Amsterdam. Yet so distracted were the councils of the Virginia Company, that two years elapsed before the ar- rangement for transporting the Leyden church were completed. In 1620, preparations were commenced for embarking. Only the minor portion of the whole number were able to go at once, and Mr. Robinson remained behind with the others. A day of prayer had been held in the early part of the year, when the pastor endeavoured to remove the doubts of his people and con- firm their resolutions. A similar day was held in July. Some of the exhortations of Mr. Robinson on this occasion are worthy of lasting remembrance. After intimating that they might never again see him, he continues: "Whether the Lord hath appointed that or not, I charge you, before God and his blessed angels, that you foUoAv me no farther than you have seen me follow the Lord Jesus Christ. If God reveal any thing to you by any other instrument of his, be as ready to receive it as ever you were to receive any truth by my ministry. For my part, I cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the reformed churches, who are come to a period in religion, and will go at present no further than the instruments of their reformation. JOHN ROBINSON. 137 The Lutherans cannot be drawn to go beyond what Luthei- saw. Whatever part of his will our good God has revealed to Calvin, they will rather die than embrace it. And the Calvinists you see stick fast where they were left by that great man of God, who yet saw not all things. I exhort you to take heed what you receive as truth. Examine it, consider it, and compare it with other scriptures of truth before you receive it , for it is not possible that the Christian world should come so ''ately out of such thick anti-christian darkness, and that perfection of know- ledge should break forth at once." On the 21st of July, those who purposed emigrating, repaired to Delftshaven, where they embarked on the following morning. Here Mr. Robinson dedicated them in prayer to God, and, after mutual benedictions, he and a portion of his people returned to Leyden, while the little fleet which bore the germ of a mighty people held on its westward way. From the time of the New England settlement, Mr. Robinson maintained a correspondence with his former people; but owing to difficulties and disappointments, he was unable to execute his intention of visiting them. He continued to labour zealously at Leyden, until February 22, 1625, when he was seized with violent ague. Though he preached twice on the ensuing Sab- bath, the disorder steadily increased ; and on the 1st of March he expired, in the fiftieth year of his age, and in the height of usefulness. He has been described as a man of good genius, quick penetration, ready wit, great modesty, integrity and candour. His preaching was instructive and affecting; his classical learning and acuteness in argument were acknowledged by his opponents. In manners he was easy and obliging; if convinced of error, he scrupled not to acknowledge ; and he had learned, what few in that age were willing to learn, the true charity of regarding as Christian brothers, good men of all de- aominations. His widow and children removed to New England 18 138 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JOHN WINTHROP, GOVERNOR OF MASSACHUSETTS. OHN WINTHROP, the first Governor of Massachusetts, was born at Groton, in Suf- folk, England, June 12, 1587. His father was a lawyer and a Christian, and his grand- father, also a lawyer, had been through the persecutions of Henry VIII. and Mary. Win- ^-^' throp's disposition and early education inclined to theological studies ; but his father educated him to the law ; and so rapid was his progress, that, at eighteen, he became justice of the peace. At so early an age he is described as possessing isdom to discern right and fortitude to execute it. He was an upright and impartial magistrate, a cour- teous gentleman and a sincere Christian. Of his life in England the accounts are meagre. When some eminent persons entertained a design of founding a new colony in New England, Winthrop was unani- mously chosen as their leader. Accepting the invitation, ho sold an estate worth seven hundred pounds, and immediately embarked. He reached Salem June 12, 1630, penetrated in a few days into the country, left a few men on Charles river, (CharlestOAvn,) and selected the peninsula of Shav/mut as the site of a future capital. In about a month, the new colonists moved northward, and chose the place where Cambridge now stands, intending to commence building in the spring. During winter, they suffered with cold ; provisions failing, they were obliged to live upon ground-nuts, acorns, and shell-fish, and the 22d of February was appointed for fasting and supplication. Meantime, however, a vessel with provisions arrived, and the day was celebrated as a thanksgiving. In the spring, Winthrop and some others set up the frames of houses ; but, in a little JOHN WINTHROP OF MASSACHUSETTS. 139 while, these were taken down and removed to Shawmut, which was named Boston. The Colony of Massachusetts Bay, as it was called, now went into full operation, Winthrop being gover- nor. Former hardships were in a measure forgotten ; the In- dians behaved friendly, and the colonists enjoyed for four years the rule of an able and industrious ruler. Our historians have dwelt with proud satisfaction on the social and public virtues of Governor Winthrop. He has been called the father of the infant plantation. His time, knowledge, means, and influence, were devoted to its advancement. He could exercise courtesy and condescension without compromis- ing the dignity of office. As an instance of the hold which he ]30ssessed in the affections of the people, it is related that, when a Mr. Cleaves was summoned before Charles I. by Archbishop Laud, in order to give some accusation against Winthrop, he gave such an account of the faithfulness and piety of the gover- nor, that Charles expressed his concern that so worthy a per- son as Mr. Winthrop should be no better accommodated than in an American wilderness. To the people, Winthrop was an example of frugality and temperance. Besides denying him- self many luxuries of life, wdiich he might easily have procured, he supplied nearly every day the houses of some of his neigh- bours with food from his table. His patience, wisdom, and magnanimity were conspicuous in the severest trials ; and his Christian virtues threw a halo of splendour around his other qualities. Winthrop did not escape the usual fate of prosperous men — that of being envied and hated by aspiring characters. Suspi- cions were whispered concerning the fidelity of his financial dealings, party feeling steadily increased against him, and, in 1634, he was defeated in the governorship. The same result attended the elections of the two following years. An inquiry, conducted rather ruthlessly, was instituted into his receipts and disbursements. He submitted to the examination with praise- worthy humility. The malice of his enemies moved every ongine for his destruction ; the evidence of his innocence was decisive and triumphant. Nothing could induce him to resent these proceedings. In a low station, he served the colony as faithfully as when governor. On receiving from a member of the court an angrily written letter, he returned it by the mes- 140 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. senger, saying, <' I am not willing to keep by me such a matter of provocation." Shortly after, the writer, on account of scarcity of provisions, sent to buy one of Winthrop's cattle. Winthrop begged him to accept it as a token of his good-wilL The man visited the generous governor, and exclaimed, " Sir, your overcoming yourself hath overcome me." In religious matters, Winthrop did not always evince the same liberality. His opposition to the doctrine of Mrs. Hutch- inson, involved him and the colony in dissensions, in which the acumen of party feeling was poisoned by assimilation with feel- ings of religion. In 1636, the Hutchinson party elected their candidate for governor, the celebrated Henry Vane. The en- suing year was one of bitter dissension. The Hutchinson party gained the majority in Boston. Fearing further increase, the court imposed a penalty on all who should entertain strangers, or allow them the use of house or lot above three weeks, Avith- out liberty first granted. This increased the popular discon- tent. From the people, dissatisfaction spread to the court, and, finally, the leading followers of Mrs. Hutchinson were banished. In 1645, some persons from Hingham complained that they were not permitted to worship God as they chose, and peti- tioned for liberty of conscience; or, if that could not be granted, they asked for exemption from taxes and military ser- vice. If refused, they threatened to appeal to the, English par- liament. The petitioners were cited to court and fined as '^ movers of sedition." Winthrop joined in their prosecution. A party favourable to them required him to answer publicly for his conduct. He was honourabl}^ acquitted. On resuming his seat, he took occasion to declare publicly his sentiments con- cerning the authority of the magistracy and the liberty of the people. '<■ You hai,ye called us," was his language, "to office; but, being called, we have our authority from GOD ; it is the ordinance of God and hath the image of God stamped on it, and the contempt of it hath been vindicated by God with terri- ble examples of his vengeance. When you choose magistrates, you take them from among yourselves — men subject to the like passions with yourselves. If you see our infirmities, reflect on your own, and you will not be so severe on ours. The cove- nant between us and you is, that we shall govern you and judge your causes, according to the laws of God and our best skill. JOHN WINTHROP OF MASSACHUSETTS. 141 A.s for our skill, jou must run the hazard of it ; and, if there be an error, not in the will, but the skill, it becomes you to bear it. Nor would I have you mistake in the point of your liberty. There is a liberty of corrupt nature, which is inconsistent with authority, impatient of restraint, the grand enemy of truth and peace, and all the ordinances of God are bent against it. But there is a civil, moral, federal liberty, which is the proper end and object of authority — a liberty for that only which is just and good. For this liberty you are to stand with your lives ; and, whatever crosses it, is not liberty, but a distemper thereof. This liberty is obtained in a way of subjection to authority; and the authority set over you will, in all administrations for your good, be quietly submitted to by all but such as have a dispo- sition to shake off the yoke, and lose their liberty by murmur- ing at the honour and power of authority." In these we de- tect the principles of persecution for conscience' sake ; yet it should be observed that Winthrop's views underwent material alteration before his death. In domestic affairs, Winthrop was unfortunate. After de- voting the greater portion of his substance to the colony, and suffering heavy losses, he was obliged to sell most of his estate to pay an accumulated debt. He buried three wives and six children ; and his varied afflictions so preyed upon his mind, that his faculties began to decay seven years before his death. He expired of fever, March 26, 1649. He left five sons, one of "^rhom became Governor of Connecticut. 142 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ROGER WILLIAMS. HE accounts transmitted to us of Roger Wil- liams are meagre and unsatisfactory. He was born in "Wales, of respectable parentage, edu- cated at Oxford, and admitted to orders in the cliurch of England. Soon after, he married, and for some time he laboured assiduously as an Episcopal minister. But the same spirit which was afterwards fruitful in subjecting him to difficulty, induced him to join the Puritans, and becoming obnoxious to the laws against non- conformists, he abandoned his country, and came with his wife to America. He reached Boston February, 1631, and in the following April he was invited by the congregation of Salem to address them occasionally, under the inspection of their pastor, Mr. Skelton. Here he remained until that minister's death, in 1634, when he was invited to fill his place. He now expressed more unreservedly his opinion on toleration and other points, in consequence of which he was speedily brought to account. The colonial government had never re- garded him in a very favourable light ; and his public assertion that the king's patent to them was void, because he had no right to dispose of the red men's soil, was not calculated to make them more lenient toward him. He also condemned the prac- tice of permitting "natural" men to take oaths, to pray, &c. ; and he insisted that magistrates had no right to deal in matters of conscience or religion. For entertaining such opinions he was accused of heresy and apostasy ; the cliurch of Salem was censured, and Williams was summoned to appear before the court. He was charged with writing two letters, — one to the churches, complaining of the magistrates' injustice and extreme oppression ; the other to his own church, persuading them to ROGER WILLIAMS. 14B renounce communion with all the churches in the Bay, because they were filled with error, pollution, &c. "Williams acknow- ledged the letters, and offered to defend the sentiments expressed in them, by a public dispute. A Mr. Hooker was chosen to confer with him ; Williams persisted in his opinions ; the court ordered him to leave its jurisdiction in six weeks. It being then autumn, (1635,) he was permitted to remain until the en- suing spring, on condition of not inducing others to join in his opinions. His popularity with the people caused the magis- trates to sacrifice mercy to justice ; a vessel was despatched, in January, to apprehend and carry him to England ; but Williams had previously gone to Rehoboth. In the spring he left the Plymouth colony, and went to Moonshausich, which, in humble reliance upon God, he named Providence. Here he founded a settlement, which has expanded into an independent state. By regarding the Indians as human beings, like himself, and en- titled to equal rights with himself, he won their friendship ; and his little colony soon became an asylum for the stranger and the oppressed of other lands. No greater proof of his worth can be given, than the fact that that strict, uncompro- mising government which banished him, were in no long time led to look upon him in a favourable light, and, in 1637, actually employed him as their agent among the Indians. His inter- course with Massachusetts was marked with disinterestedness, fidelity, and wisdom, so that ever after Governor Winthrop was his friend. About this time the religious opinions of Williams under- went considerable change ; he acknowledged the truth of some of the Baptist tenets, and in March, 1639, was baptised by immersion. During several months he preached to a society of this order, but finally separated from them, doubting, it is believed, the validity of all baptism, on the ground of a want of succession from the apostles. As these changes of opinion exposed him to much loss and danger, we must ascribe them only to sincere convictions of truth. In 1643, Williams appeared in England to solicit a charter of incorporation for the colonies of Providence, Rhode Island, and Warwick. Succeeding, he returned next year. Eight years after, a difficulty arising on account of the claims of Coddington, Williams, in company with Clark, was again sent to 144 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. England, whore, in 1652, he obtained a revocation of Codding- ton's authority over Narragansett Bay. After this he was several times elected governor of the colony, and in 1663 had the satisfaction of seeing it obtain a new and more ample charter. He died April, 1683, at the advanced age of eighty- five years. The materials for a biography of Roger Williams, though scanty, suffice to show that he was a man of unblemished cha- racter, ardent piety, an humble seeker after truth, and, in his opinions of right and duty, unyielding either through threats or flattery. He was among the first pioneers of religious free- dom in America. Though so grossly injured by the govern- ment of Massachusetts, he never resented the injury, and on one occasion gave his persecutors information of the Indian plot which would have destroyed their settlement. He was an author as well as a preacher. His Key to the Indian Languages of New England, printed in 1643, evinces considerable know- ledge and research. The " Dialogue between Truth and Peace" was printed in 1644. In this he discloses those sentiments of toleration and religious freedom which Milton and Locke after- wards delighted to dwell upon, and which were already advocated by the dissenters of New England. He was answered by Mr. Cotton of Massachusetts, who with great zeal, and no little bigotry, defended the right and enforced the duty of the civil magistrate to regulate church obligations. Williams replied in a treatise replete with powerful arguments. In August, 1672, he held a public dispute with them at Newport and at Provi- dence, and subsequently published an answer to a work by Fox. Many tracts are ascribed to him ; and his numerous letters to acquaintances and public men are said to have been curious and valuable. JOHN WINTHROP OF CONNECTICUT. 145 JOHN WINTHROP, GOVERNOR OF CONNECTICUT. INTHROP, eldest son of Grovernor Winthrop of Massachusetts, was born in Groton, in Suf- folk, Feb. 12, 1605. His fine genius was much improved by a liberal education, in the universities of Cambridge and Dublin, and by travelling through most of the European kingdoms, as far as Turkey. He came to New England with his father's family, Nov. 4, 1631; and though not above twenty-six years of age, was, by the unanimous choice of the free- men, appointed a magistrate of the colony, of which his father was governor. He rendered many services to the country, both at home and abroad, particularly, in the year 1634, when, returning to Eng- land, he was, by stress of weather, forced into Ireland ; where, meeting with many influential persons, at the house of Sir John Closworthy, he had an opportunity to pro- mote the interest of the colony by their means. The next year he came back to New England, with powers from the Lords Say and Brooke, to settle a plantation on Con- necticut river. But finding that some worthy persons from the Massachusetts had already removed, and others w^ere about removing to make a settlement on that river at Hartford and Weathersfield, he gave them no disturbance; but having made an amicable agreement with them, built a fort at the mouth of the river, and furnished it with the artillery and stores w^hich had been sent over, and began a town there, which, from the two lords who had a principal share in the undertaking, was called Saybrook. This fort kept the Indians in awe, and proved a security to the planters on the river. 146 LIVES OF ErillNENT CHRISTIANS. When thej had formed themselves into a body politic, they Honoured him with an election to the magistracy, and afterward chose him governor of the colony. At the restoration of King Charles 11. he undertook a voyage to England, on behalf of the people, both of Connecticut and New Haven ; and, by his pru- dent address, obtained from the king a charter, incorporating both colonies into one, with a grant of privileges, and powers of government, superior to any plantation which had then been settled in America. During this negotiation, at a private con- ference with the king, he presented his majesty with a ring, which King Charles I. had given to his grandfather. This present rendered him very acceptable to the king, and greatly facilitated the business. The people, at his return, expressed their gratitude to him by electing him to the office of governor, for fourteen years successively, till his death. Mr. Winthrop's genius led him to philosophical inquiries, and his opjiortunities for conversing with learned men abroad, furnished him with a rich variety of knowledge, particularly of the mineral kingdom; and there are some valuable communi- cations of his in the philosophical transactions, which procured him the honour of being elected a fellow of the Royal Society. He had also much skill in the art of physic ; and generously dis- tributed many valuable medicines among the people, who con- stantly applied to him whenever they had need, and were treated with a kindness that did honour to their benefactor. His many valuable qualities as a gentleman, a Christian, a philosopher, and a public ruler, procured him the universal respect of the people under his government; and his unwearied attention to the public business, and great understanding in the art of government, was of unspeakable advantage to them. Being one of the commissioners of the United Colonies of New England, in the year 1676, in the height of the first general Indian war, as he was attending the service at Boston, he fell Bick of a fever, and died on the 5th of April, in the seventy-first year of his age, and was honourably buried in the same tomb with his excellent father.* ♦ Mather's Magnalia. CATHERINE OF ARRAGON. 147 CATHERINE OF ARRAGON. EMARKABLE no less for her virtues than her misfortunes, this celebrated woman was born in Spain, in 1483. Her parents were Ferdinand and Isabella. In early life she was instructed in those principles of piety for Avhich her mother was remarkable ; and throughout life she, on every occasion, displayed sincere humility and devotion. When eighteen, she was united in marriage to Arthur, Prince of Wales, son of Henry VII., of England; but on the prince's death, five months afterward, the Eng lish king, unwilling to return her dowry, contracted her to his remaining son, Henry. Marriage with a ';^ sister-in-law being opposed to the doctrines of the church, a special dispensation, was in this case ob tained from the pope. The contract was not pleasing to Prince Henry. At the age of fifteen, he publicly protested against it, and was induced to ratify it only by the solicitations of the council, and the authority of his father. On his acces- sion, in 1509, he solemnly renewed his former consent, and crowned Catherine Queen of England. From the first, the queen appears to have been popular But to the prospect of a happy union with Henry there were two fatal objections. A young monarch notorious for his ad- miration of youthful bloom, was not like to regard with favour- able eyes, for any great length of time, a recent widow, consi- derably older than himself; but even had this obstacle not existed, Henry's temper was inimical to continued friendship. But, contrary to expectation, Catherine obtained a complete ascendancy over his affection, and maintained it without import- ant interruptions during nearly twenty years. This we can ascribe only to the amiable docility of her disposition, her fer- vid piety, which won the esteem even of enemies, and her well- cultivated intellect. 148 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. The constaD.cj of Henry was overcome by an introduction to Anne Boleyn ; his old scruples concerning the legality of his marriage revived ; and an application for divorce was laid before the pope. His holiness returned an encouraging answer ; and Henry prepared to cast away one, who of all others had been to him most faithful and affectionate. But Charles V., Empe- ror of Germany, and nephew to Catherine, interfered, and pre- vented the dispensation of the pope. The violent dispute and important consequences which resulted from the shuffling of the pontiff and the obstinacy of Henry, are known to every reader of English history. During the whole affair, Catherine con- ducted herself with gentleness ; but neither entreaties nor threats could induce her to consent to a divorce, and thereby not only render her daughter illegitimate, but virtually acknow- ledge that she had herself been guilty of incest. When cited, in 1529, before the papal legates, Cardinals Campeggio an I "Wolsey, she refused to abide by their decision, and appealed to the court of Rome. The appeal was declared contumacious. Henry's temper, never remarkable for moderation, gave way long before the dispute would naturally have terminated ; he summarily cut the cord which he could not untie ; and Cathe- rine's legal disgrace was completed by the accession of her maid of honour, Anne Boleyn, to her honours and her throne. With Henry's subsequent high-handed measures — the quarrel with the pope, the rupture with the church, the establishment of the religious protectorship in the person of the sovereign — Catherine had nothing to do. In 1532, she retired to Ampthill, in Bedfordshire, where she persisted in asserting her claims as Queen of England, nor was she intimidated by the act of Cran- mer, who on his accession to the primacy, publicly pronounced the sentence of divorce. But disease — the result of an inno- cent spirit abused and crushed — soon began to complete what Henry had commenced. Feeling her death approaching, she wrote a letter to the king, which is said to have drawn tears from his eyes. It recommended to his protection their daughter (afterwards queen) Mary, prayed for the salvation of his soul, and assured him that her affection toward him was still unabated. *Sbe died in 1536. KING EDWARD THE SIXTH. 149 KING EDWARD THE SIXTH. ON of Henry the Eighth by Jane Seymour, was born at Hampton Court on the 12th of October, 1587, and died at Greenwich on the 6th of July, 1553. The annals of this prince present little more to our view than the strange events which at- tended the struggle between Seymour and Dud- ley for the possession of his person and autho- rity. The bloody war with Scotland, and the dangerous insurrections which succeeded at home, occupied the ardent minds and employed the ta- ents of those chiefs during the first two years of his reign ; but the return of national peace gave birth to the bitterest discord between them ; and theii wisdom and bravery, which in the late public exigen cies had shone resplendently in the council and in the field, presently sank into the contracted cunning and petty ma- lice of factious politicians. The protector sought to intrench himself in the stronghold of popular favour, and was perhaps the first English nolBleman who endeavoured to derive power or security from that source : his antagonist, too proud and too artful to engage in an untried scheme, humiliating in its pro- gress and uncertain in its event, threw himself into the arms of a body of discontented nobles, lamenting the fallen dignity of the crown, and the tarnished honour of their order. He proved successful : the protector was accused of high treason, and suffered on the scaffold, and the young king was transferred to Dudley, together with the regal power. These circumstances, well known as they are, will be found to throw a new lustre on Edward's character. In this con- vulsed time, so adverse to every sort of improvement either in the morals or less important accomplishments of the youthful prince ; under the disadvantages of an irregular education, a 150 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. slighted authority, and a sickly constitution ; he made himself master of the most eminent qualifications. With an almost critical knoAvledge of the Greek and Latin language, he under- stood and conversed in French, Spanish, and Italian. He waa well read in natural philosophy, astronomy, and logic. He imitated his father in searching into the conduct of public men in every part of his dominions, and kept a register in which he Avrote the characters of such persons, even to the rank of justices of the peace. He was well informed of the value and exchange of money. He is said to have been master of the theory of military arts, especially fortification ; and was ac- quainted with all the ports in England, France, and Scotland, their depth of water, and their channels. His journal, record- ing the most material transactions of his reign from its very commencement, the original of which, written by his own hand, remains in the Cotton Library, proves a thirst for the know- ledge not only of political affairs at home and of foreign rela- tions, but of the laws of his realm, even to municipal and do- mestic regulations comparatively insignificant, which, at his age, was truly surprising. "This child," says the famous Cardan, who frequently conversed with him, " was so bred, had such parts, was of such expectation, that he looked like a mi- racle of a man ; and in him was such an attempt of Nature, that not only England but the world had reason to lament his being so early snatched away." With these great endowments, which too frequently produce haughty and ungracious manners, we find Edward mild, patient, beneficent, sincere, and affable ; free from all the faults, and uniting all the perfections, of the sovereigns of his family who preceded or followed him : courageous and steady, but humane and just ; bountiful, without profusion ; pious, without bigotry ; graced with a dignified simplicity of conduct in common affairs, which suited his rank as well as his years ; and artlessly obey- ing the impulses of his perfect mind, in assuming, as occasions required, the majesty of the monarch, the gravity of the states- man, and the familiarity of the gentleman. Such is the account invariably given of Edward the Sixth ; derived from no blind respect for the memory of his fiither, whose death relieved his people from the scourge of tyranny; without hope of reward from himself, whose person never pro- KING EDWARD THE SIXTH. 15J toised manhood ; with no view of paying court to his successor, who abhorred him as a heretic, or to Elizabeth, whose title to the throne he had been in his dying moments persuaded to deny; but dictated solely by a just admiration of the charming qualities which so wonderfully distinguished him, and perfectly free from those motives to a base partiality, which too often guide the biographer's pen when he treats of the characters of princes. Concerning his person, Sir John Hayward informs us that «< he was in body beautiful ; of a sweet aspect, and especially in his eyes, which seemed to have a starry liveliness and lustre in them/' 152 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. THE LADY JANE GREY. OR it is perhaps more prudent to adopt the inveterate absurdity, ahnost invariably used in this instance, of designating a married woman by her maiden surname, than to incur the charge of obscurity or aiFectation by giving her that of her husband. It is most difficult to guess in what motive this singular folly could have originated, more especially as her epheme- ral greatness, and its tragical termination, the only important circumstances of her public his- tory, arose out of the fact of her union with him. It is needless, however, and perhaps nearly useless, to attempt to solve that difficulty, and on this ques- tion between common sense and propriety on the one hand, and obstinate habit on the other, we are content to take the wrong side. This prodigy of natural and acquired talents, of innocence and sweetness of temper and manners, and of frightful and unmerited calamity, was born in 1537, the eldest of the three daughters of Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset, by the Lady Frances, daughter of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and of his illustrious consort, Mary, Queen Dowager of France, and youngest sister of Henry the Eighth. The story of her almost infancy, were it not authenticated by several whose veracity was as unquestionable as their judgment, would be wholly incredible. Her education, after the fashion of the time, which extended the benefits and the delights of erudition to her sex, was of that character, and was conducted by John Aylmer, a Protestant clergyman, whom her father entertained as his domestic chaplain, and who was afterwards raised by Elizabeth to the see of London. For this gentleman she cherished a solid esteem and respect, mixed with a childish affection which doubtless tended to forward the success of her studies. Those LADY JANE GREY. 153 Bentiments arose in some measure out of domestic circum- stances. That elegant and profound scholar, and frequent tutor of royalty, Roger Ascham, informs us in his " School- master," that, making a visit of ceremony on his going abroad to her parents at their mansion of Broadgate in Leicestershire, he found her in her own apartment, reading the Phsedon of Plato in the original, while her father and mother, with all their household, were hunting in the park. Ascham expressing his surprise that she should be absent from the party, she answered, to use his own words, " All their sport in the park I wisse is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in Plato — alas, good folk, they never knew what true pleasure meant." " And how," rejoined Ascham, '^ came you, madam, to this deep know- ledge of pleasure ; and what did chiefly allure you to it, seeing not many women, but very few men, have attained thereto ?" To this she replied, with a sweet simplicity, that God had blessed her by giving her sharp and severe parents, and a gentle schoolmaster; "for," added she, <' when I am in the presence either of father or mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go, eat, drink, be merry or sad, be sewing, dancing, or doing any thing else, I must do it, as it were, in such weight, measure, and number, even so perfectly as Grod made the world, or else I am sharply taunted, and cruelly threatened, till the time come that I must go to Mr. Aylmer, who teacheth me so gently, so pleasantly, with such fair allure- ments to learning, that I think all the time nothing whilst I am with him ; and thus my book hath been so much my plea- sure, and bringeth daily to me more pleasure and more, that in respect of it all other pleasures in very deed be but trifles and very troubles unto me." Whether Ascham's first knowledge of her extraordinary at- tainments occurred at this period is unknown, but he certainly gave soon after the strongest proofs of the respect in which he held them. A long letter remains, perhaps one of many which he addressed to her, in which he declares his high opinion of her understanding as well as of her learning, and requests of her not only to answer him in Greek, but to write a letter in the same language to his friend John Sturmius, a scholar whose elegant latinity had procured him the title of " the Cicero of Germany," that he might have an indiff*erent witness to the 20 154 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. truth of the report which he would make in that country of her qualifications. He speaks of her elsewhere with an actual en- thusiasm. "Aristotle's praise of women," says he, "is per- fected in her. She possesses good manners, prudence, and a love of labour. She possesses every talent, without the least weakness, of her sex. She speaks French and Italian as well as she does English. She writes elegantly, and with propriety. She has more than once spoken Greek to me, and writes in Latin with great strength of sentiment." Sir Thomas Chalo- ner, also her contemporary, not only corrolborates Ascham's particulars of her erudite accomplishments, but adds that "she was well versed in Hebrew, Chaldee, and Arabic ; that she ex- celled also in the various branches of ordinary feminine educa- tion ; played well on instrumental music, sung exquisitely, wrote an elegant hand, and excelled in curious needle-work, and, with all these rare endowments, was of a mild, humble, and modest spirit." Fuller, who lived a century after her, condensing, with the quaint eloquence which distinguished him, the fruit of all authorities regarding her with which he was acquainted, says that " she had the innocency of childhood, the beauty of youth,, the solidity of middle, the gravity of old age, and all at eigh- teen; the birth of a princess, the learning of a clerk, the life of a saint, and the death of a malefactor for her parents* offences." Her progress from this beautiful state of innocence and re- finement to that dismal end was but as a single step, and the events relative to her which filled the short interval were matters rather of public than of personal history. By a marvellous fatality this admirable young creature was doomed to become the nominal head and actual slave of faction, and a victim to the most guilty ambition. The circumstances of the great con- test for rule between the Protector Somerset and Dudley which, distinguished the short reign of Edward the Sixth, are familiar to the readers of English history. The latter, having effected the ruin of his antagonist, employed his first moments of lei- sure in devising the means of maintaining the vast but uncer- tain power which he had so acquired. Among these the most obvious, and perhaps the most hopeful, was the establishment of marriage contracts between his own numerous issue and the children of the most potent of the nobility, and thus, early in LADY JANE GREY. 155 the year 1553, the Lady Jane Grey, for whose father he had lately procured the dukedom of Suffolk, became the consort of his youngest son, Gruildford Dudley. He was secretly prompted however to form this union by the conception of peculiar views, not less extravagant than splendid. Edward, the natural deli- cacy of whose frame never promised a long life, had shown some symptoms of pulmonary disease, and the confusion and uncertainty which the brutal selfishness of his father Henry had entailed on the succession to the crown suggested to the ardent and unprincipled Northumberland the possibility of di- verting it into his own f^imily under such pretensions as might be founded on the descent of his daughter-in-law. The absurdity of this reverie, legally or indeed rationally considered, was self-evident. Not to mention the existence of the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth, who might indeed plausibly enough be said to stand under some circumstances of disinheri- son, Jane descended from a younger sister of Henry, and there was issue in being from the elder ; nay, her own mother, through whom alone she could claim, was living ; and the marriage both of her mother and her grandmother had been very fairly charged with illegality. Opposed to these disadvantages were the enor- mous power of the party which surrounded Northumberland ; his own complete influence over the mind of the young king; and the affection which an agreement of age, talents, tempers, and studies, had produced in Edward towards his fair kinswo- man, and which the duke and his creatures used all practicable artifices to increase. The nuptials were celebrated with great splendour in the royal palace, and the king's health presently after rapidly declined, insomuch that Northumberland saw no time w^as to be lost in proceeding to the consummation of his mighty project. Historians, with a license too commonly used by them, affect to recite with much gravity the very arguments used by him to persuade Edward to nominate Jane his successor, of which it is utterly impossible that they should have been in- formed. All that can be truly said is that he gained his point to the utmost of his hopes and wishes. The king was induced, apparently with little difficulty, to agree to certain articles, previously sanctioned by the privy council, declaring her next heir to the crown, and, for some reason long since forgotten, but probably because it was ex- 156 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. pected that he would be the most pliable, Sir Edward Montague, chief justice of the common pleas, was selected from the judges, to digest and methodize them, with the aid of the attorney and solicitor-general, into the strictest form that they could devise. Montague, however, whose own account of his share in the transaction is extant, demurred. Having at first vainly endea- voured to withdraw himself entirely from the task, he sought to gain time, perhaps in expectation of the king's death, by be- seeching to be allowed to consult the statutes, and all other au- thorities which might have any relation to so high a subject. Urged at length, with a vehemence no longer to be resisted, to proceed, he reported to the council that the proposed measure was not only contrary to law, but would, if he were to obey their command, subject themselves, as well as him, to the penalties of high treason. Northumberland at that moment entered the council-chamber in the utmost extravagance of fury ; called Montague a traitor ; swore that he would '' fight any man in his shirt" who might gainsay the king's inclination ; and was actually about to strike the chief justice, and Bromley, the at- torney-general. They retired, and when they were next sum- moned, the king, being present, reproved them sharply for de- laying the duty required of them. At length, overawed, they consented, on condition of receiving an authority under the great seal, and a general pardon; and the instrument being prepared, the rest of the judges were required to attend, and to sign it, which was accordingly done by all, except one, Sir James Hales, a justice of the common pleas, and a man other- wise unknown, who, to his endless honour, steadfastly refused to the last. The primate, Cranmer, with that unfortunate irreso- lution which formed the only distortion in the symmetry of his beautiful character, approved of Jane's succession, but objected to the mode of accomplishing it ; contended, perhaps with more vigour than might have been expected of him, but in the end submitted, and signed, with the rest of the council, not only the document which had been prepared by the lawyers, but also a second, by which they bound themselves in the strictest engagement on oath to support her title, and to prose cute with the utmost severity any one among them who might in any degree swerve from that obligation. The letters patent, confirming to Jane the succession to the LADY JANE GREY. 157 throne, were signed bj Edward on the twenty-first of June, 1553, and on the sixth of the next month he expired. Of these events, and even of the mere scheme for her fatal elevation, she is said to have been kept in perfect ignorance. The king's death indeed was sedulously concealed from all for a few days, which Northumberland employed in endeavouring to secure the support of the city, and to get into his hands the Princess Mary, who was on her way to London when it occurred. She was however warned of her danger, and retreated ; asserted without delay her title to the crown in a letter to the privy council ; and received an answer full of disdain, and professions of firm allegiance to her unconscious competitrix. While these matters were passing, Northumberland, and the duke her father, repaired to Jane, and having read to her the instrument which invested her with sovereignty, fell on their knees, and offered her their homao-e. Havino; someAvhat recovered from the asto- nishment at first excited by the news, she intreated with the ut- most earnestness and sincerity that she might not be made the instrument of such injustice to the right heirs, and insult to the kingdom, and that they would spare her, her husband, and themselves, from the terrible dangers in which it could not but involve them. Her arguments however were unavailing, and no means were left to her but a positive refusal, in which per- haps the strength of mind which she certainly possessed might have enabled her to persist, when the duchess, her mother, and the young and inexperienced Guildford, were called in, and to their solicitations she yielded. She was now escorted in regal state to the Tower, on her entry into which it is remarkable that her train was borne by her mother, and in the afternoon of the same day, the tenth of July, was proclaimed in London with the usual solemnities. In the mean tiine, Mary, who had retired to Kenninghall, in Norfolk, assumed the title of queen, and found her cause warmly espoused by many of the nobility, and nearly the whole of the yeomanry and inferior population of that and the adja- cent counties. Those who ruled in the metropolis, and who, having fondly considered her as a fugitive, had stationed some ships on those coasts to intercept her on her expected flight to Flanders, were now suddenly compelled to raise a military force to oppose to the hourly increasing multitude of her supporters. 0 158 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Eight thousand horse and foot were collected with surprising expedition, the command of which was assumed by Northum- berland, and it was agreed that Suffolk should remain in London to conduct the government, an unlucky transposition arising from Jane's anxiety for the personal safety of her father, whose best experience was in martial affairs, while Dudley, with all the arts of a statesman, possessed few of those qualities which win the hearts of soldiers, or bespeak success in the field. At the head however of this force he marched from London on the fourteenth of July, having taken leave of the council in a short address from which his doubts of their fidelity may be clearly inferred. They were in fact at that moment agreed to betray the extravagant and unjust cause which they had so lately sworn to support. Even on the following day their intrigues became so evident that Suffolk, in the barrenness of political invention, commanded in the name of the queen that the gates of the Tower should be kept constantly closed, to prevent the mischief which he apprehended from their communication with the ad- verse party. The lord treasurer with great diflSculty procured egress for a few hours, and returned with the news that the naval squadron, Avhich had been equipped with the view of seiz- ing the person of Mary, had revolted to her, and letters were received from Northumberland pressing for reinforcements, and reporting the gradual defection of his troops on their march. The council now affected the warmest zeal, and eagerly repre- sented the impossibility of raising such succours otherwise than by their personal appearance among their tenants and depend- ants, most of them offering to lead to the field such forces as they might respectively raise. Suffolk, deceived by these pro- fessions, and by the earnestness of their despatches to other powerful men in the country to the same effect, consented to release them from their imprisonment, for such it actually was. He did so, and they repaired, headed by the Earls of Shrews- bury and Pembroke, to Baynard's Castle, the house of the latter of those noblemen, who had but a few weeks before married his heir to a sister of the unfortunate Jane, where they determined to proclaim Queen Mary, which was done on the same day, the nineteenth of July, 1553. Jane received from her father the news of her deposition with the patience, the sweetness, and the magnanimity, which be- LADY JANE GEEY. 159 longed to her surprising character. She reminded him with gentleness of her unAvillingness to assume the short-lived eleva- tion, and expressed her hope that it might in some measure extenuate the grievous fault which she had committed by accept- ing it ; declared that her relinquishment of the regal character was the first voluntary act wdiich she had performed since it was first proposed to raise her to it ; and humbly prayed that the faults of others might be treated with lenity, in a charitable consideration of that disposition in herself. The weak and miserable Suffolk now hastened to join the council, and arrived in time to add his signature to a despatch to Northumberland, requiring him to disband his troops, and submit himself to Queen Mary, which however he had done before the messenger arrived. Jane, whose royal palace had now become the prison of herself and her husband, saw, within very few days, its gates close also on her father, and on his. The termination of North- umberland's guilty career, which speedily followed, is well known ; but Suffolk, for some reasons yet undiscovered, was spared. It has been supposed that his duchess, who remained at liberty, and is said to have possessed some share of the queen's favour, interceded successfully for him ; and why may we not ascribe this forbearance to the clemency of Mary, in whose rule we find no instances of cruelty but those whi'ch ori- ginated in devout bigotry, — a vice which while engaged in its own proper pursuits inevitably suspends the operation of all the charities of nature? There is indeed little room to doubt that she meditated ta extend her mercy to the innocent Jane and her youthful spouse. They were, it is true, arraigned and convicted of high treason on the third of November following the date of their offence^ and sentenced to die ; but the execution was delayed, and they were allowed several liberties and indulgences scarcely ever granted to state prisoners under their circumstances. The hopes however thus excited were cut short by the occurrence of Sir Thomas Wyat's rebellion, in which her father, while the wax was scarcely cold on his pardon, madly and ungratefully became an active party, accompanied by his two brothers. Thus Mary saw already the great house of Grey once nrore publicly in array against her crown. The incentives to this insurrection are somewhat involved in mystery, and have been 160 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. variouuly reported. The avowed pretence for it was an aversion to the queen's proposed marriage with Philip of Spain, but there is strong reason to believe that with this motive was mixed, at least in the breasts of the leaders, a secret intention to re- assert the claim of Jane ; and Bishop Cooper, a contemporary historian, tells us plainly in his Chronicle, that the Duke of Suffolk, ■" in divers places as he went, again proclaimed his daughter." • Be this however as it might, it was now resolved to put her to death without delay, and it is pretty well authen- ticated that the queen confirmed that determination with much reluctance and regret. Jane received the news without discomposure, and became even anxious to receive the final blow ; but here the bigotry of Mary interfered, and she commanded that no efforts should be spared to reconcile her to that church which arrogantly denies salvation to those who die not in its bosom. She suffered the importunities, and perhaps the harshness, of several of its most eminent ministers, with equal urbanity and firmness. At length she was left to Feckenham, Mary's favourite chaplain, and af- terwards Abbot of Westminster, a priest who united to a steady but well-tempered zeal an acute understanding, and great sweet- ness of manners, and by him, according to the fashion of the day, she was invited to a disputation on the chief points of difference between the two churches. She told him that she could not spare the time; ''that controversy might be fit for the living, but not for the dying ; and intreated him, as the best proof of the compassion which he professed for her, to leave her to make her peace with God." He conceived from these expressions that she was unAvilling to quit the world, and ob- tained for her a short reprieve, which when he communicated to her, she assured him that he had misunderstood her, for that, far from desiring that her death might be delayed, " she ex- pected, and wished for it, as the period of her miseries, and of her entrance into eternal happiness." He then led her into the prc'posed conference, in which she acquitted herself with a firm- ness, a power of argument, and presence of mind, truly asto- nishing. Unable to work the slightest impression, he left her, and she sat calmly down to make a minute of the substance of their discourse, which she signed, and which may be found in most of the ecclesiastical histories. She now addressed a fare- LADY Jane grey. 16i well letter to her father, in which, with much mildness of ex- pression, though certainly with less benignity of sentiment than is usually ascribed to her, she repeatedly glances at him as the author of her unhappy fate. She wrote also to her sister, the Lady Catherine Herbert, in the blank leaves of a Grreek Testa- ment, which she requested might be delivered as her legacy to that lady, an epistle in the same language, the translation of which, however frequently already published, ought not to be omitted here. " I have sent you, my dear sister Catherine, a book, which, although it be not outwardly trimmed with gold, or the curious embroidery of the artfullest needles, yet inwardly it is more worth than all the precious mines which the vast world can boast of. It is the book, my only best loved sister, of the law of the Lord. It is the testament and last will which he be- queathed unto us wretches and wretched sinners, which shall lead you to the path of eternal joy; and if you with a good mind read it, and with an earnest desire follow it, no doubt it shall bring you to an immortal and everlasting life. It will teach you to live and to die. It shall win you more, and endow you with greater felicity, than you should have gained by the possession of our woful father's lands ; for as if Grod had pros- pered him you should have inherited his honours and manors, so if you apply diligently this book, seeking to direct your life according to the rule of the same, you shall be an inheritor of such riches as neither the covetous shall withdraw from you, neither the thief shall steal, neither yet the moths corrupt. Desire, with David, my dear sister, to understand the law of the Lord thy God. Live still to die, that you by death may purchase eternal life ; and trust not that the tenderness of your age shall lengthen your life, for unto God, when he calleth, all hours, times, and seasons, are alike, and blessed are they whose lamps are furnished when he cometh, for as soon will the Lord be glorified in the young as in the old. My good sister, once again more let me intreat thee to learn to die. Deny the world, defy the devil, and despise the flesh, and delight yourself only in the Lord : be penitent for your sins : and yet despair not : be strong in faith, yet presume not : and desire, with St. Paul, to be dissolved, and to be with Christ, with whom even in death there is life. Be like the good servant, and even at midnight 21 o2 162 LTYES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. be waking, lest when death cometh, and stealeth upon you like a thief in the night, you be with the servants of darkness found sleeping ; and lest for lack of oil you be found like the five foolish virgins, or like him that had not on the wedding gar- ment, and then you be cast into darkness, or banished from the marriage. Rejoice in Christ, as I trust you do ; and, seeing you have the name of a Christian, as near as you can follow the steps, and be a true imitator of your master Christ Jesus, and take up your cross, lay your sins on his back, and always embrace him. " Now, as touching my death, rejoice as I do, my dearest sister, that I shall be delivered of this corruption, and put on incorruption ; for I am assured that I shall for losing a mortal life win one that is immortal, joyful, and everlasting, to which I pray God grant you in his blessed hour, and send you his all- saving grace to live in his fear, and to die in the true Christian faith, from which in God's name I exhort you that you never swerve, neither for hope of life nor fear of death ; for, if you will deny his truth to give length to a weary and corrupt breath, God himself will deny you, and by vengeance make short what you by your soul's loss would prolong ; but if you will cleave to him, he will stretch forth your days to an uncircumscribed comfort, and to his own glory : to the which glory God bring me now, and you hereafter when it shall please him to call you. Farewell once again, my beloved sister, and put your only trust in God, who only must help you. Amen. " Your loving sister, "Jane Dudley.'* This letter was written in the evening of the eleventh of .February, 1554, N. S., and on the following morning she was led to execution. Before she left her apartment she had beheld from a window the passage of her husband to the scaffold, and the return of his mangled corpse. She then sat down, and wrote in her tablets three short passages, in as many languages. The first, in Greek, is thus translated — " If his slain body shall give testimony against me before men, his blessed soul shall render an eternal proof of my innocence before God." The second, from the Latin — " The justice of men took away his body, but the divine mercy has preserved his soul." The third was in English — "If my fault deserved punishment, my youth and mv LADY JANE GREY. 163 imprudence were worthy of excuse ; God and posterity will show me favour." This precious relic she gave to the lieute- nant of the Tower, Sir John Brjdges, soon after created Lord Chandos. Endeavours had been incessantly used to gain her over to the Romish persuasion, and Feckenham embarrassed her by his exhortations even to the moment of her death, imme- diately before which, she took him by the hand, and thanked him courteously f i- his good meaning, but assured him that they had caused her n^ ^-e uneasiness than all the terrors of her ap- proaching fate. Kctving addressed to those assembled about her a short speech, less r.....vikable for the matter which it con- tained than for the total absence even of an allusion to her at- tachment to the reformed church, she was put to death, fortu- nately Vy a single stroke of the axe. 164 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. PIERRE RAMUS. ^MONG the many victims of the massarre of Saint Bartholomew was the celebrated Pierre de la Ramde, more generally known by the name of Ramus. Born in 1515, in a village in Normandy, his parents were of -^^ the poorest rank ; his grandfather being a sj. charbonnier, a calling similar to that of our coal- heaver, and his father a labourer. Poverty being his consequent inheritance, Ramus was early left to his own resources ; no sooner, therefore, had he attained the age of eight years than he repaired to Paris ; the difficulty he found there of obtaining com- mon subsistence soon obliged him to return home: another attempt which he afterwards made met with no better success. Early imbued with a strong love and desire for learning, he suffered every misery and privation In order to obtain the means necessary for its acquirement. Having received a limited aid from one of his uncles, he, for a third time, set out for Paris, where, immediately on his arrival, he entered the college of Navarre in the capacity of a valet, during the day fulfilling every menial task, but devoting his nights to his dear and absorbing study. This extreme per- severance and application, regardless of difficulties, obtained its consequent reward ; being admitted to the degree of master of arts, which he received with all its accompanying scholastic honours, he was enabled to devote himself with more intensity to study. He, by the opinions which he promulgated in the form of a thesis, respecting the philosophy of Aristotle, a doubt of whose sovereign authority at that time was considered a pro- fane and audacious sacrilege, attracted the attention of the scholars of the time, and ultimately their enmity. With the PIERRE RAMUS. 165 uncompromising hardihood of his character, he continued to deny the infallibility of the favourite code of philosophy, and published, in support of his opinions, two volumes of criticisms upon his works. Ramus was at first persecuted merely with scholastic virulence, but on his further irritating his opponents, a serious accusation was brought against him, before the parliament of Paris; and to such lengths had the matter gone as to call for the mediation of Francis the First. Ramus was found guilty, and sentenced, in 1543, to vacate his professorship, and his works interdicted throughout the kingdom. This severe sentence, however, did not produce the effect desired by the Sorbonne, for on the following year he was appointed to a professorship in the college of Presles, and, in 1551, received the further appointment of royal professor of philosophy and rhetoric. His opinions had, however, attracted the attention and enmity of ,a more powerful body than that of the Sorbonne. To contest the infallibility of Aristotle, at the same time that it attacked scholastic prejudices, was sufficient to provoke a revolution even in theology. The consequence to Ramus was implacable hatred from the ecclesiastical body, who seemed intent upon his destruction. The persecution of Ramus was carried to such an extent, that, according to Bayle, he was " obliged to conceal himself; at the king's instigation he for some time secreted himself at Fontainbleau, where, by the aid of the works he found in the royal library, he was enabled to prosecute his geometrical and astronomical studies. On his residence there being discovered, he successively concealed himself in different places, thinking by that means to evade his relentless persecutors. During his absence, his library at Presles was given up to public pillage. " On the proclamation of peace, in the year 1563, between Charles the Ninth and the Protestants, Ramus returned to his professorship, devoting himself principally to the teaching of mathematics. On the breaking out of the second civil war, in 1567, he was again obliged to quit Paris, and seek protection in the Huguenot camp, where he remained until the battle of St. Denis. A few months after this, on peace being again pro- claimed, he once more returned to his professional duties ; but foreseeing the inevitable approach of another war, and fearing 166 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. the consequent result, he sued for the king's permission of absence, under the plea of visiting the German academies, which being granted, he retired to German}^, in 1568, where he was received with every demonstration of honour. Ramus returned to France on the conclusion of the third war, in 1571, and perished in the hideous massacre of St. Bartholomew, as related by Moreri." The following is the passage in Moreri, alluded to by Bayle: — <« Ramus having concealed himself during the tumult of the massacre, he was discovered by the assassins sent by Charpen- tier, his competitor. After having paid a large sum of money, in the hopes of bribing his assassins to preserve his life, he was severely wounded, and thrown from the window into the court beneath ; partly in consequence of the wounds received and the effects of the fall, his bowels protruded. The scholars, en- couraged by the presence of their professors, no sooner saw this than they tore them from the body, and scattered them in the street, along which they dragged fhe body, beating it with rods by way of contempt." We cannot feel surprised at Ramus becoming one of the prin- cipal victims of this horrid massacre. By the means of so many foul and horrid murders the Catholic party had hoped to anni- nilate protestantism in France, or at least so to weaken its in- fluence as to render its party powerless. \Ye can easily conceive the reason why a man who, by the tendency and boldness of his opinions, had -become one of the powerful supporters of the Huguenot part}^, as well as one of its most powerful and per- suasive orators, should not be spared; but we are astonished and horrified when we see the effects of political or religious fanaticism falling on the poor and the simple, the meek and the peaceful women and children, the young and the beautiful, — all suffering equally with the strong and the powerful, the proud and the talented. One of the great subjects of reform attempted by Ramus, and which created the greatest animosity against him, was that which had for its object the introduction of a democratical government into the church. He pretended that the consistories alone ought to prepare all questions of doctrine, and submit them to the judgment of the faithful. The people, according to his tenets, possessed in themselves the right of choosing their PIERRE RAMUS 167 ministers, of excommunication, and absolution. We quote these opinions, inculcated by Ramus, to show in what spirit of contra- diction his opinions were with the prevailing faith of the six- teenth century. It is a subject of much too deep and serious a character to discuss here. The private life of Ramus was most irreproachable; entirely devoting himself to study and research, he refused the most lucrative preferments, choosing rather the situation of professor at the college of Presles. His temperance was exemplary : except a little bouilli, he ate little else for dinner. For twenty years he had not tasted wine, and afterwards when he partook of it, it was by the order of his physicians. His bed was of straw ; he rose early, and studied late ; he was never known to foster an evil passion of any kind ; he possessed the greatest firmness under misfortune. His only reproach was his obstinacy, but every man who is strongly attached to his conviction is subject to this reproach. 168 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JOHN MILTON. T may appear singular that of Milton's early life we have but a few meagre items. Such is the case. He was born in Bread street, London, December 9, 1608, and at an early period enjoyed the advantages of a good edu- cation. This is to be ascribed chiefly to the character of his father, who possessed an ar- dent love of knowledge, a fine taste, and a con- siderable knowledge of music. Milton's first teacher was Thomas Young, a Puritan, w^ho was afterwards chaplain to the English merchants at Hamburg. He next entered St. Paul's school, and afterwards Christ College, at Cambridge, where he studied the highest branches of learning. At the age of twenty-four, he took the degree of master of arts, quitted Cambridge, having, while there, given evidence of poetic genius as well as industry and general talent. The next five years of his life were spent on his father's estate^ in Buckinghamshire, where he studied the ancient classics and the great works of European literature. This was, perhaps, the golden period of Milton's life. iVmid the varying beauties of rural scenery, he indulged and developed the powers of his intellect, and imbibed that ardent love for the beauties of nature, which was afterwards displayed in the noble imagery of Paradise Lost. Then he composed the Mask of Comus, founded, it is said, on an incident in the life of Lady Alice Egerton, by whom, with the assistance of her brothers, it was performed at Ludlow Castle, on Michaelmas eve, 1634. Here, also, were composed Lycidas, Arcades, L' Allegro, and II Penseroso — poems whose expressions and thoughts have become household ivords in every land where the English language is spoken. In 1638, Milton obtained his father's consent to visit Europe. JOHN MILTON. 16& On reaching Paris, he was introduced by Lord Sendarnore to the celebrated Grotius, then ambassador from Christina, Queen of Sweden. But to a mind like his the French capital could have but few attractions, and, after a brief stay, he again pro- ceeded to the south. Nice, Genoa, Pisa, and Florence were successively visited. The language and manners of the Flo- rentines, and the circle of their literary men, to whom he was introduced, excited Milton's liveliest admiration. An impres- sion equally deep, but of a more melancholy nature, was occa- sioned by a sight of Rome. There, also, his fame as a poet had preceded him. He was welcomed as a brother by the learned, and derived high gratification from the rich stores of classical learning which were thrown open to him in the Vatican. These flattering prospects were clouded by news from home. His native country was on the brink of the first civil war — that great revolution in which the English people battled against bigotry, superstition, and intolerance, for those privileges which nothing can wrest from man but the injustice of his fellow-man, Milton was a republican ; he felt and lamented the miseries of his country, and he looked forward to the coming contest be- tween the two great parties with deep emotion. When on the point of embarking for Sicily, he learned that the contest had begun. He at once abandoned his plans of personal gratifica- tion, and resolved to return to England, " deeming it," says his nephew, '^ a thing unworthy of him to be diverting himself in security abroad, when his countrymen were contending with an insidious monarch for their liberty." After an absence of fifteen months, he arrived in England, about the time that Charles I. was setting out on his second expedition against the Scots. For a while he instructed the children of a few of his friends, engaging his leisure hours in the production of works tending to promote the republican cause. One of the most important of these was his vindicating the freedom of the press, by which he drew upon himself the united hatred of a tyran- nical king, of the loyalists in parliament, and of the cruel emissaries of the star-chamber. He escaped the consequences of his boldness, and was soon permitted to see the triumph of his party, the destruction of the star-chamber, and the death of the English king. Before describing the labours and sufferings of Milton in the 22 P 170 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. cause of liberty, it may not be inappropriate to glance at some events of his domestic life. That he had the most pure and elevated ideas of the marriage state, no one, who has read the Paradise Lost, is ignorant. It is a mournful fact, that he was never permitted to realize those ideas. At the age of thirty- five, he married his first wife, Mary, the daughter of a wealthy royalist and justice of the peace in Oxfordshire. The circum- stances which led to the union are not known. After being a month with her husband, the bride requested and obtained per- mission to spend the remainder of the summer with her rela- tives. Michaelmas was fixed upon for her return. She still remained, however, refusing to answer Milton's letters, and treating his messenger with contempt. Incensed at this con- duct, Milton declared that he no longer regarded her as his wife, and soon afterwards published his rigorous and too partial work on the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce. Time caused the banished one to repent her conduct, and, on hearing of Milton's intention to visit a common friend, she suddenly ap- peared before him, threw herself at his feet, and begged for- giveness. A cordial reconciliation took place, and the poet afterwards received her family into his own house. In this transaction, we should not condemn the lady's conduct too harshly. The merits of her disaifection are not well known; but it is certain that she was influenced principally by her friends. One fact is clear — she was no suitable wife for Milton. Meanwhile, the poet published his " Treatise on Education," in which he condemns the method of confining the studies of youth to one or two dead languages. In 1649, an event oc- curred which has been the occasion of much censure to Milton, and for which a great party, even at the present day, condemn his political career. This was the death of Charles I. Though Milton seems to have approved of that act, he was in no way implicated in it ; but, becoming disgusted with many who openly lamented it, while really rejoicing, he published his " Tenure of Kings and Magistrates," which, as he observes, " was not published till after the death of the king, and was written rather to tranquillize the minds of men, than to discuss any part of the question respecting Charles — a question the deci- sion of which belonged to the magistrate, and not to me, and which had now received its final determination." Soon after JOHN MILTON. 171 he became Latin secretary of state to Cromwell. At that time appeared a book called EikonBasilike, " The Royal Image." It professed to be a series of meditations drawn up by Charles during his captivity. Its effect was powerful. Fifty thousand copies were sold in a few months. All classes denounced the new government as guilty of the darkest crimes in their treat- ment of the royal martyr. To counteract this dangerous influ- ence, Milton drew up a commentary entitled Eiconoclastes, or " Image Breaker." Of course, as the popular feeling then was, the success of this commentary could be only partial. Not long after (1651) appeared his "Defence of the People of Eng- land," in reply to a work of Salmasius of Leyden, a tool of Charles's son. The reception of this work in all the countries of Christendom astonished Milton himself. The most eminent men of Europe hastened to present to him their encomiums. Queen Christina of Sweden specially marked her admiration of it. It was translated into Dutch for the benefit of the coun- trymen of Salmasius, but much to his own annoyance. Mean- while, it was publicly burned at Paris and Toulouse. This De- fence completely accomplished the purpose for which it was written ; and Salmasius, after labouring in vain to produce an answer, died in 1653, the victim, as is supposed, of wounded pride. On the 2d of May, 1652, Milton*s first wife died, leaving him with three daughters, the youngest a new-born babe ; andy to add to this affliction, the approach of blindness, which had long been dreaded, became rapid and inevitable. But he did not repine. It was while studying and writing in defence of liberty that his eye-sight first failed, and he regarded it more as a sacrifice in that great cause than as subject of lamentation. When taunted by the heartless scoffers of that age, he replied, 4^ It is not miserable to be blind. He only is miserable who cannot acquiesce in his blindness with fortitude ; and why should I repine at a calamity which every man's mind ought to be so prepared and disciplined for as to be able to undergo with patience — a calamity to which every man, by the condition of his nature, is liable, and which I know to have been the lot of some of the greatest and best of my species." The same calm- ness and Christian dignity breathe through the sonnet upon his blindness. His strength of mind and natural cheerfulness, 172 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. modified bj his unwavering confidence in an all-wise Providence^ were superior to every accident and to every misfortune. He still continued to dictate the most important correspondence of the commonwealth ; he took an active share in Cromwell's foreign policy ; he stayed the sword of Romish persecution in Piedmont, and caused even the Vatican to respect for a few years the rights of conscience ; he conducted the correspond- ence which set at defiance the haughty bigotry of Spain. Even while engaged in these severe duties, he found time to follow his favourite literary pursuits. The principal of these were a Latin Dictionary, a History of England, and one other work, which will be mentioned hereafter. Meanwhile, he married his second wife, Catherine, the daughter of Captain Woodcock, a zealous republican. Within a year she gave birth to a child, and soon after both died. It was to her memory that the poet dedicated the sonnet in which he represents " his late espoused saint" coming to him in such an appearance as afterwards he "trusted to have full sight of in heaven." After the Restoration, Milton was discharged from the office of Latin secretary. During the first outburst of loyal revenge, he secreted himself in a house at St. Bartholomew Close, while his friends spread a report of his death, and followed in mourn- ful procession his fictitious corpse to the grave. x\fter the scheme was discovered, the attorney-general was directed to commence a prosecution against him ; and his two books, the Eiconoclastes and the Defence of the People, were consigned to the flames. He was included in the general act of oblivion; but, on leaving his retirement, was arrested by parliament. He escaped their resentment by the payment of costly fees, and retired to his humble home, never again to mingle in the afi'airs of state. And now, cut off from society by the hatred of shamelesi enemies, and from outward communion with nature through the dearest of all the senses, worn down in the service of an un- grateful people, poor, despised, insulted, Milton retired to the humble dwelling where his future life was to be one dark, un- interrupted struggle with privation and sorrow. Other men would have employed that period in mourning for a few short months, and then sinking heart-broken into the grave. MiltoD •^.mployed it in writing Paradise Lost. JOHN MILTON. I73 It appears that very early in life he had formed the design of writing an epic poem. His first subject had been drawn from the life of King Arthur ; but his deep religious feelings and his intimate acquaintance with the beauties of the holy Scriptures, at length decided his choice. Paradise Lost was begun about two years before the Restoration, and finished three years after that event. It seems curious that the much larger portion of it was written during the winter seasons. Unable to write himself, the poet was obliged to compose and retain in his memory the successive passages until he could obtain some one to write them down. It might be supposed that, in this privilege, his daughters would vie with each other ; but they treated him with cruel neglect, and the poet was obliged to de- pend in a great measure upon the kindness of strangers. His youngest daughter atoned in some measure for her sisters' con- duct. She read to her father, solaced his lonely hours, and often assisted in penning his immortal words. In consequence, perhaps, of his loneliness, the poet entered for the third time into the matrimonial relation — a step which must strike us as rather strange under the circumstance. At the age of fifty- four he married Elizabeth Minshall, the daughter of a gentle- man of Cheshire. She proved an amiable companion, and con- tributed much to solace the remaining years of her husband's life. Amid the quiet seclusion of his little family, Milton de- voted all his energies to his poem. The remembrances of hap- pier days, the scenes of Rome, Florence, and Naples, the ex- tensive parks and quiet lawns of his own country, the hurrj; of political life, and the dissolute revel, which surrounded his later days, were all made sources of some image or description. It appears from Milton's writings, that, on some occasions, he be- lieved himself actually inspired, and, before we smile at such an opinion as presumptuous, it might be well to peruse afresh his descriptions of the spirit world, and of that state of primitive innocence for which the unhappy poet so ardently longed. These are treated with majesty and solemnity, at which criti- ijism is awe-struck, while the flow of noblest harmony seems to be not the voice of human genius, but the song of the seraphs whose devotions it records. The Paradise Lost was published in 1665. When prepared for the press, it narrowly escaped suppression through the p2 174 LIVES OP EMINENT CHRISTIANS. bigotry of the licenser, Thomas Tomkins, to whose judgment it Aad been committed, and who was, of course, prepared to de- tect treason in every line. For the first edition Milton re- ceived five pounds, and a stipulation of fifteen pounds more if it should reach a third edition ! Its sale was tolerably rapid, and, notwithstanding the false taste of the literary men of that age, it met with much admiration. But it triumphed over bad taste and worse criticism, prejudice, and bigotry; and now the great of all nations rank the poor blind bard of England with the few mighty intellects, which, either in ancient or modern times, have, in the highest department of literature, won for themselves immortality. In 1670, appeared Paradise Regained, and about the same time, Samson Agonistes. Previous to this, the office of Latin secretary had been tendered him by Charles II. ; but it was promptly declined, and the contemptuous manner in which he was afterwards treated by the royalists, shows they had not abated any portion of their malice toward him. The following anecdote, which is believed authentic, will serve to illustrate this opinion. The Duke of York, brother to the king, and afterwards his successor, expressed to Charles his desire to see " old Milton." The request was, of course, granted, and James was introduced to the great poet. A free conversation ensued, during which the duke asked Milton if he did not re- gard the loss of his eye-sight as a judgment for what he had written against the late king. «'If your highness," answered Milton, " thinks that the calamities which befal us here are in- dications of the wrath of heaven, in what manner are we to account for the fate of the king, your father ?" The duke left him. At the next interview of the royal brothers, James ex- horted the king to have Milton hanged. " Why," answered Charles, "is he not old, poor, and blind?" "Yes." " Then hanging him would be doing him a service ; it will be taking him out of his miseries ; now he is miserable enough, and by all means let him live." During the great plague in 1665, a young man named Ellwood, who had studied under Milton, displayed his gratitude toward the poet by removing him to a pleasant cottage at Chal- font, in Buckinghamshire. It was during the same year, as has already been mentioned, that the first edition of his great JOHN MILTON. 175 poem appeared ; but, before a second vras called for, the author was numbered Avith the dead. " With a dissolution so easy that it was unperceived by the persons in his bed-chamber, he closed a life clouded, indeed, by uncommon and various calamities, yet en- nobled by the constant exercise of such rare endowments as render his name, perhaps, the very first in that radiant and comprehensive list of which England has reason to be proud." His remains were followed to their resting-place in St. Giles's church, Cripplegate, by a large concourse, including many of the wealthiest and most learned individuals of London. A fine monument was subsequently raised to his memory by the mu- nificence of a private individual. In this sketch of Milton's life, we have enumerated only those works in prose and in verse on which his fame as a lite- rary man is founded. It is not our place to enter into an ex- amination of these ; but rather to show how, as a Christian, the great poet is entitled to our veneration. He is generally accused of harshness of temper, and a fondness for rancor- ous disputation. Sometimes he has transgressed on these points ; but, in that age, he who could have taken part in the defence of liberty without transgressing, must have been more than man. Then the great battle was fought which involved in its shock the liberty, the dearest rights, perhaps national existence, of the English people. He Avho led either party, had need of a commanding voice, and of an inflexibilitj of purpose which would stop at no half-way measures. Such was Milton's character ; and his very errors should be regarded with kind- ness and indulgence. But, in domestic life, he was the kind father, the affectionate husband ; in religious life, he was the humble follower of Jesus. He rose at four in the summer months, and at five in winter. Two 'hours were devoted to hearing the Scripture and to private meditation and devotion ; his meals were short and temperate ; and the remaining portion of the day, with the exception of other devotional duties and of occasional relaxation on the organ, was given to study. So rigid was his economy of time, that it may be said with truth, that few men ever lived longer than he, although he died at the age of sixty-six. 176 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ULEIC ZWINGLE. WINGLE was born at Wildhaus, on Lake Zu- . rich, January 1, 1484. His father had raised himself from a peasant to the chief magistracy of the district, and determined, when his son Avas quite young, to give him a learned edu- cation. Until ten years old, Ulric was edu- cated by an uncle ; afterward, he was taught at Basil, and then at Berne. Here, while stu- dying poetry and belles-lettres, he evinced such talent that the Dominicans endeavoured to draw him into their convent. His father opposed this, and ordered him to Vienna. Here, during two years, he studied philosophy. When returning to Basil, he entered upon a theological course under Thomas Wittembach. At the age of eighteen he be- came a teacher, and, in the four ensuing years, taught and studied with so much assiduity that he was created master of arts. He first preached at Rapersville, was soon after ordained priest, and became pastor of the town of Glaris. Zwingle now devoted himself to the study of the Scrip- tures, examining and elucidating them by the ancient fa- thers. Yet the Bible was to him a sealed book ; and he Beems to have clung to the errors of popery with blind tenar- city, until, out of mere curiosity, he commenced the reading of Wiclif 's writings and those of the Bohemian reformers. He perceived that those men, though denounced as heretics, were actually moral and pious ; that their doctrines were scriptural ; and that they were right in pronouncing the Romish church corrupt, the clergy ignorant and licentious. Every day his personal observation convinced him that the power which he had formerly regarded as supremely good, was sunk in corrup- ULKIC ZWINGLE. 17T tion and wickedness, and that it oppressed the souls of those whom it professed to make fit for the kingdom of heaven. But, as yet, Zwingle had no intention of being a reformer ; and, during his ten years' labour at Glaris, he confined himself to instructing his own congregation in the word of God and the practice of piety. Even in this comparatively humble occupa- tion, he excited the jealousy of Rome, and was accused of dwelling on the necessity of a holy life rather than the merits of fasts, miracles, pilgrimages, relics, and indulgences. While the dis- content of many was ripe against him, he was ordered by go- vernment to attend the Swiss soldiers to Italy as chaplain dur- ing their wars in favour of the pope against the French. Zwin- gle obeyed with reluctance. His countrymen were defeated at Marignano, and the chaplain seized the occasion to advise his government against the practice of hiring out their troops to foreign masters. In his letter we find the germ of his future opposition to popery ; but at the time it gained him few friends and many enemies. On returning from Italy, (1516,) Zwingle accepted the offer of the Baron of Geroldseck, to become abb^ in the convent of Einseindeln. Here he laboured to extend the truth which he had discovered. His patron. Baron Theobald, was among his first converts, and soon after was abolished the inscription over the entrance of the abbey, '• Here plenary remission of all sins is obtained," together with the relics and images. He re- formed the convent, permitted the nuns to return to the world if they chose, and endeavoured to convince the pilgrims who visited the abbey that bodily afflictions and performances did not entitle them to the approbation of God. These steps were the prelude to one more important. On the anniversary of the consecration of the abbey, the fearless priest proclaimed to the assembled crowds that, without a change of heart, none could be saved ; that adoration of images and of the queen of heaven was sacrilege ; that Jesus Christ was the sole mediator between God and man. A violent uproar ensued ; part of the congre- gation admired the preacher ; part called him a hypocrite. The neighbouring monks, finding the revenue of the day less than usual, clamoured unanimously against him. Yet Zwingle still regarded the Romish church as the true church ; and the pope and his legate, with a-blindness as injurious to their cause 28 178 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. US it was unusual, admired the talents of the reformer, and endeavoured to win him to their personal service. Notwithstanding the efforts of his enemies, Zwingle had se- cured to himself many friends and extensive popularity. In 1518, when the cathedral of Zurich was without a preacher, he accepted an invitation to supply it. His first step was to lay before those who had called him a statement of the plan of preaching which he intended to pursue. It was to make Scrip- ture explain Scripture, and to expound the word of God as it had been done by the apostles and earlier fathers. His first sermon in the cathedral (January 1, 1519) was in conformity with this plan, was similar in substance and style to the con- secration sermon in the abbey, and, like that sermon, gained him both friends and enemies. A new event gave a powerful impulse to the Swiss reforma- tion. A Franciscan monk, Bernardine Samson, entered the cantons as a vender of indulgences. At Berne he had great success ; but, at a small town near Zurich, he was opposed by Bullinger, the parish priest. Samson excommunicated him; Zwingle denounced the excommunication ; Samson declared that he had a special message from the pope to the Zurich Diet. When summoned to appear and deliver it, he was proven an impostor, and banished the country. His discomfiture enhanced the reputation of Zwingle. In 1522, some persons were imprisoned for refusing to ob- serve Lent. Zwingle seized the occasion to publish his tract <« On the Observation of Lent," in which he ridiculed its ob- servance and declared it an institution of the priests. The Bishop of Landenburg requested the council of Zurich to sup- press such attacks. They declined doing so. Zwingle replied to the bishop, censuring in severe language the vices of the clergy and their obstinacy in resisting truth. " I will now tell you," his letter says, " what is the Christianity that I profess, and which you endeavour to render suspected. It commands men to obey the laws and respect the magistrate ; to pay tri- bute and impositions where they are due ; to rival one another only in beneficence ; to support and relieve the indigent ; to share the griefs of their neighbour, and to regard all mankind as brethren. It further requires the Christian to expect salva* tion from God alone, and Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Ma. ULRIC ZWINGLE. 17^ ter and Saviour, who giveth eternal life to them who believe on him." His writings and his preaching drew upon him the odium of being a Lutheran, while parties were so divided tha. violent disputes happened among friends and relatives, in as- semblies, in the street, in the church during service. Grieved at this, Zwingle solicited of the great connci] a public confer- ence, where, in presence of the deputies of the Bishop of Con- stance, he might explain and defend his doctrines. If proved in error, he would retract ; if triumphant, he asked the protec- tion of government. The council agreed, and January 29 was appointed for the discussion. Meanwhile, the reformer pub- lished seventy-six propositions as the basis of the discussion, in which the axe was laid at the root of papal pretensions. At the day appointed the assembly met. The council, the nobility, the clergy, the bishop's deputies, and a crowd of spec- tators, were present. When the meeting had been opened by the burgomaster, Zwingle arose, and stated that, being accused of heresy, he was prepared to defend his opinions from Scrip- ture. Nobody attacked him. An effort was made to postpone the subject until December ; but Zwingle, setting the Bible be- fore them, called on any present to make good the charge of heresy. At length a minister rose to complain that he had been imprisoned by the Bishop of Constance for denying the neces- sity of worshipping Mary and the saints. Faber, a creatui e of the bishop, replied that, having visited the prisoner and quoted many passages of Scripture by Avhich the worship was esta- blished, he had caused him to retract. Zwingle immediately arose, and, after stating that this was one of the subjects in his propositions, called on Faber to produce the texts he had quoted to the prisoner. Faber concealed his irritation by a torrent of authorities from fathers, councils, monks, and miracle-mongers. Zwingle demanded the text which authorized image-worship. Faber gave a thorough history of miracles, enlivened by addi- tional flourishes from the fathers. Zwingle replied that fathers, councils, and popes had not only erred, but disagreed among themselves, while Scripture alone was infallible. Faber ex- claimed that he would some time prove the propositions of Zwingle heretical. " Prove it now," cried the reformer. Faber sat down. The Lutherans were wild with joy, and, imme- diately on adjourning the council, published a decree, " That 180 LIVES OF EMINENT CHAISTIANS. Zwingle, having neither been convicted of heresy nor refuted, should continue to preach the gospel as he had hitherto done ; that the pastors of Zurich and its territories should rest their discourses on the words of Scripture alone, and that both par- ties should abstain from all personal reflections." This affair gave a great impetus to the reformation. The people began to promote the work in their own way. Crucifixes were pulled down, images demolished, and the adherents to Rome violently denounced. Undecided as to the manner of treating those who participated, the council called a second assembly to ex- amine whether the worship of images was authorized by the gospel, and whether the ma-ss ought to be preserved or abolished. Nine hundred persons obeyed the call, (October 28, 1523,) and the discussion lasted three days. Zwingle triumphed ; the prisoners were released ; image-worship was declared unscrip- tural; the mass to be no sacrifice. The council postponed, for the present, their opinion respecting a change in the forms of worship. The change was effected, without disturbance, in the beginning of 1524. Meanwhile, Zwingle had married, and about the same time he published several works, among which was an exhortation to the Swiss cantons not to impede the re formation. This drew upon him the indignation and persecu- tion of the cantons other than Zurich. That canton steadily sustained him. In 1525, the adoration of the host and the mass were abolished. On the 13th of April, a white cloth was spread over the church-table, and bread and wine placed thereon. The account of the institution of the supper was read. Zwingle exhorted his congregation to examine themselves, and the peo- ple, for the first time in Switzerland, partook of the Lord's supper in both kinds. Then began the suppression of the mo- nasteries. The Dominican and the Augustine convents were converted into hospitals ; their revenues were appropriated to the sick ; young monks were put to trades ; old ones supported by government. A new academy was founded at Zurich, and Btrenuous efforts were made to spread the gospel through Swit- zerland. About this time Zwingle used his eflbrts to counteract the spread of the Anabaptists, who had become numerous in the cantons. The Catholiot now endeavoured to secure the re- former's person by ordering the council of Zurich to send him ULBXC ZWINGLE. 181 to Baden, under pretence of having a dispute with Dr. Eck. Zurich refusing to give him up, he was condemned, his books pro- hibited, and his adherents excommunicated. The injustice of this proceeding opened the eyes of several cantons to the merits of popery more than the preaching of Zwingle had done. At a great convocation held at Berne, (1527,) the reformed doctrines were discussed during eighteen sittings, and a majority of the clergy declared for the reformation. Afterwards, their jft'ospects were, in some measure, interrupted by Zwingle's dispute with Luther concerning the Lord's supper, the prospect of civil war, and the persecution waged by the Romanists against the sacra- mentarians, as the followers of Zwingle were called. The re- former's life was so embittered by these events that he resolved to leave Zurich and seek an asylum elsewhere ; but the entrea- ties of both friends and enemies induced him to remain. The storm, which had long been gathering over Zurich and the other Protestant cantons, burst at last. On the 6th of Octo- ber, 1531, the Romish cantons took the field, and stationed their forces at Cappel. Zurich hastily mustered a handful of men, and detached them against the enemy. Zwingle was ordered to join them. His friends trembled for his safety. *' Our cause is good," said the reformer, " but it is ill defended. It will cost me my life, and that of a number of excellent men who would wish to restore religion to its primitive simplicity and our country to its ancient manners. No matter. God will not abandon his servants ; he will come to their assistance when you think all is lost. My confidence rests upon him alone, and not upon men. I submit myself to his will." At Cappel the Protestants were attacked with fury, and de- fended themselves with bravery — overpowered by numbers and totally defeated. In the confusion of flight, Zwingle was thrice thrown down, but recovered himself. A stroke under the chin proved more serious. He sank on his knees, and then on the ground, exclaiming, " Is this a calamity ? They are able to kill the body, but they are not able to kill the soul." After lying insensible for some time, he revived, raised himself, and directed his eyes upward. Some Catholic soldiers approached ; among them a confessor. When the latter offered himself, Zwingle shook his head. He was asked to dedicate his soul to the Virgin, but refused. One of the soldiers ran him through 0 l!R2 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. with a sword, exclaiming, " Die, obstinate heretic." Next day his body was found by some Catholics, and exposed to view of the soldiers. An old colleague and opponent of the reformer gazed at it with emotion. "Whatever may have been thy faith," he said, '< I am sure that thou wast always sincere, and that thou lovedst thy country. May God take thy soul to his mercy." The soldiers clamoured for the burning of the body. A self-c(5nstituted tribunal acceded ; the remains wtre reduced to ashes, and the ashes scattered to the winds. Zwingle, at his death, was forty- seven years old. He left a number of useful works behind him, and his memory was re vered a,3 that of a spiritual and national father. SIR HENRY VANE. 183 SIR HENRY VANE. ANE was a man whose talents would adorn any cause and any age. A powerful orator, a profound statesman, a courteous gentleman, a true Christian, and the untiring champion of civil and religious toleration, he moved among the great spirits of his day with an effect which, while nerving the heart of every friend of mankind, struck terror into the ranks of tyranny. Yet, like Milton and Cromwell, his memory has been blackened by those who, blinded by servility and corrupted by vice, were unable to comprehend the principles for which he contended and suffered ; and not till the free spirit of our own day had established a standard of im- partial criticism in political and religious matters, was Vane regarded, by the readers of history, in any other light than that of a weak enthusiast. Henry Vane, the younger, was born in 1612. His ancestors were ennobled both by deeds and extraction. His father, called the elder Sir Henry, had taken a conspicuous part in the events of James's reign, and was, at his son's birth, the king's secretary of state. Being placed at Westminster, young Vane abandoned himself for a time to the frivolities then practised by the youth of that college ; but at the age of fourteen, according to his confession on the scaffold, '' God was pleased to lay the founda- tion or groundwork of repentance" in him, '* revealing his Son in me, for the bringing me home to himself, by his won- derful rich and free grace ; revealing his Son in m^, that by the knowledge of the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent, I might, even while here in the body, be made par- taker of eternal life in the first fruits of it." About tb'^ same 184 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. time were formed his opinions on civil freedom ; so that at at age in which the mind of most persons is but unfolding to re- ceive knowledge, Vane's had already sketched the outlines of character. When sixteen years old, Vane became a gentleman commoner of Magdalen College, Oxford ; but he terminated his member- ship at the university by refusing to take the oath of allegiance and supremacy. Quitting Oxford, he visited the continent, and spent some time at Geneva. From that city of free inquiry he returned to England, more confirmed in his opinions concerning religious tolerance and political freedom. As the age of Bishop Laud was not dull in perceiving symptoms of that nature, an outcry was speedily made against the young dissenter. Laud expostulated with him ; courtiers and divines frowned upon him ; his father commanded him. Henry, though modest, was firm ; but unwilling to expose his father to the resentment of a government which visited the sins of one relative on another, he determined to repair to America. " I was willing (he said afterwards, in a dark and bitter day) to turn my back upon my estate ; expose myself to hazards in foreign parts ; yea, nothing seemed difficult to me, so I might preserve faith and a good conscience, which I prefer before all things ; and do earnestly persuade all people rather to sufi'er the highest contradictions from man, than disobey God by contradicting the light of their own conscience." The resolution so suddenly taken, to abandon his own country, astonished and irritated his father ; but the king induced his secretary to consent. He reached Boston in the early part of 1635, was welcomed with enthusiasm by all classes of people, and on the third of March admitted to the freedom of the colony. In the following year he was elected governor of Massachusetts. We have elsewhere noticed the events which rendered his opponent, Mr. Winthrop, temporarily unpopular ; yet to Vane the administration was one stormy, harassing and unsuccessful. The whole colony was torn into factions; from the first a strong party opposed Vane; and the suddenness of his popularity, together with his youth, exposed him to the hatred or contempt of the baser kind. Had no other obstacles arisen, those were sufficient to embarrass his public acts. But others did arise, of a nature well calculated to derange not only politics, but society itself. The principal of SIR HENRY VANE. 185 these was the Hutchinson controversy, of which an account is given in another part of this volume. The part taken in it by Vane, will be seen in the sequel. The announcement of Yane's election was received by the people with enthusiasm. At this time there were in the port fifteen large vessels, a force sufficient to disturb the watchful jealousy of our New England fathers ; nor was the conduct of the crews, when on shore, calculated to overcome prejudice and gain esteem. No expedient could be contrived to get rid of them, until the young governor, by inviting the captains to a repast, and acquainting them in a friendly manner with the wishes of the people, obtained their ready assent to terms which removed all cause of dispute. Another dispute on a matter of mere form — the raising of the king's flag on the fort — was settled on the personal responsibility of the governor, who hung out the flag ; but as it contained a cross as well as the national ensigns, the Puritans were scandalized and a new impulse given to the opposition against Vane. But the governor's party was still strong, and his friends enthusiastic ; BO that in July, when he made a friendly tour through the towns on the northern and eastern part of the bay, he was received with many demonstrations of esteem and affection. His return to Boston is marked by the occurrence of the Pequot war, which for a time threatened to devastate the colony. Had all the neighbouring nations joined the Pequots, such a devas- tation might have happened ; that they did not, is to be ascribed to the efforts of Vane and Roger Williams. Five weeks after Endicott's expedition to Block Island, the Narragansett sachem came to Boston on the invitation of the governor, attended by twenty-two chiefs. Vane received them not as savages, but as human beings ; they dined with him, and in the afternoon were indulged in a long and friendly conference. It will not be hard to surmise the effect of such a reception. They concluded an amicable treaty with the governor, and on their return were escorted and saluted by a band of soldiers. In the summer of this year. Vane received letters from Eng- land, urging him to return to that country ; but he could not obtain permission from the council. The troubles of the colony were then verging toward a crisis; Mrs. Hutchinson, having lately arrived from England, was defending her opinions with a 24 q2 186 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. zeal and talent which demanded all the efforts of her opponents to counteract ; and in the violence of the conflict, every other interest and feeling was swept away or absorbed. Governor Vane could not remain indifferent to a controversy which in- volved the cause of religious truth. He deplored Mrs. Hutchin- son's imprudence, but he believed her to be sincerely pious ; he believed that she was labouring for religious tolerance, and believing so, he espoused her cause. The act drew upon him the united opposition of the anti-Hutchinsonians. As the yearly election approached, party spirit attained a height such as was never dreamed of before ; and on the day of voting, the grave and austere Puritan could with difficulty be induced to keep his hands off his neighbour. The Reverend Mr. Wilson, one of the pillars of orthodoxy, after climbing a tree, harangued the multitude in a style which at any other time would have secured him a seat in the pillory. Vane and all his frienda were signally defeated. Indignant at this result, the people of Eoston instantly elected him as their representative at the General Court. The dominant part of the assembly declared the election void ; a new election was held next day ; each party strained every nerve, and exhausted every effort, and Vane was again returned by a triumphant majority. When the "most extraordinary" law, forbidding any one to harbour an emigrant, was passed, Vane wrote in opposition to it ; and in reply to Winthrop's " Defence of an order of Court made in the year 1637," in his " Brief Answer," Vane contends that no government can be well founded, unless it be founded in accordance with the will of God ; that churches have no liberty to receive or reject members at their discretion, but at the dis- cretion of Christ: and that "heretics" should not be subject to the civil power, — " Ishmael (he says) shall dwell in the presence of his brethren." The controversy lasted until Vane's return to England, in August, 1637. On arriving in his native country, Vane married, and retired for some time to the seclusion of his paternal seat. Through the solicitations of his friends, he was again brought forward tc public life, and took his seat in parliament as representative of Kingston upon Hull, April 13, 1640. So great was the tJensation produced among all classes by his appearance, that Uf^twithstanding his known opinions, King Charles used every SIR HENRY VANE. 18^ effort to win him to his cause. The crown spoke condescend- ingly to him ; the office of navy treasurer was given him, and he received the honours of knighthood. But his religion and his political opinions were incorruptible. The dissolution of parliament found him what he had been at its assembling ; and when the memorable Long Parliament met, he was confidently looked upon as one of the most fearless opponents of oppres- sion. When the privy council and the star-chamber had been swept away. Lord Strafford was brought to trial for treason. The history of Vane's connection with that trial is most curious, but no more than a sketch of the principal items can here be given. One principle of the privy council — the source of its power and of its fall — was entire secresy ; and this was secured by the solemn oath of each member. When the Long Parlia- ment met, Mr. Pym arose in the house of commons, and ac- cused Strafford of having urged the king to measures unconsti- tutional, despotic, and treasonous. No one could ascertain whence he had obtained his information, since each of the council denied having ever broken his oath. When Sir Henry Vane the elder, himself a member of the council, was called upon for testimony, he confirmed Pym's accusation. As that nobleman was the mortal enemy of Strafford, it was believed by many that he had betrayed the secret ; but this Vane indig- nantly denied. The trial unravelled the mystery. By accident young Vane had obtained the key of a cabinet, in which were the proceedings of the council; ignorant of its contents, he unlocked it. A paper with Strafford's advice to the king was discovered. Astounded by such an exhibition of political wick- edness, he invited Pym to examine the paper ; Pym did so ; the paper was replaced in the cabinet, and, without the knowledge of the elder Vane, a foundation was laid for the death of his rival, and eventually the overthrow of the monarch. In the great acts of this parliament — the triennial bill, the constitutional settlement of taxation, the destruction of despotic courts, the abolition of the king's prerogative of dissolution — Vane was a distinguished participant. When the civil war commenced, he was reappointed treasurer of the navy by par- liament, the crown having deprived him of that office. On again resuming his duties, he devoted almost the entire emolu- ments of the treasury, amounting to be^.ween one hundred and 188 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, to the public service. When the power of the king was in the ascendant, and th< cause of liberty appeared almost lost, an embassy, numbering four persons, was sent to solicit a league with the Scotch ; of that embassy Vane was the soul ; it was entirely successful^ and to its success is owing, perhaps in a principal degree, the success of the republicans. On the 26th of October, Vane re- turned to England with the '« solemn league and covenant," political and religious, between the Scotch government and the parliament. He was afterwards, with Cromwell, the principal supporter of the self-denying principle and the new model, the acts which inspired the proceedings of parliament with a vigour hitherto unknown. On the field of Naseby the army of the new model, led by Cromwell and Fairfax, broke the power of royalty, and secured the dominance of parliament. The victory renewed the old dispute between the Presby- terians and the Independents, concerning church government. The former clamoured against all toleration, the remainder for it. Vane and Cromwell led the Independents, and their num- bers daily increased. The king, with his customary duplicity, pledged himself to Vane that he would join that party, and assist in "rooting out intolerance;" while at the same time he was corresponding with some of his creatures concerning his proposed treatment of the rebels. Vane returned no answer. During the stormy scenes which followed, he acted with his customary wisdom and influence ; but when the soldiery, in order to obtain a majority favourable to the king's execution, ^'purged the house" of the Presbyterians, Vane resented the act as gross injustice, and retired to private life. In 1649, after the king's death, he resumed his seat, and was made chairman of a committee of three, to whom were intrusted the afi"airs of the admiralty and the navy. It was under him that the English navy began the continued series of victories which has since rendered her a first-rate naval power. He opposed, with his whole energy, the encroachments of Cromwell upon the parliament ; and on that day when the protector dissolved the Long Parliament, he was conspicuous in his opposition to the measure. On again retiring to private life. Vane watched with patriotic eye; and the publication by Cromwell of a day of fast. SIR HENKY VANE. 189 (March 14, 1656,) for the purpose of «« applying themselves to the Lord, to discover the Achan who had so long obstructed the settlement of these distracted kingdoms," afforded him another opportunity of speaking for the republic. In his " Healing Ques- tion," he showed in the most satisfactory manner, that the Achan was Cromwell himself. For this, Vane was abruptly summoned before the council, and, after a tedious trial, or rather mockery of trial, was committed to Carisbrook Castle, in the Isle of Wight. He was released in December ; and from that time until Cromwell's death, in 1658, he wrote several treatises on government. On the accession of Richard Cromwell, he was re-elected to parliament. The managers of elections gave his certificate to another ; again he was returned from Bristol, and again rejected ; a third election disappointed his enemies, and on the 27th of January, 1659, he resumed his seat. He was the uncompromising opponent of Richard's government ; and when the Restoration occurred, though aware that his hopes of political and religious liberty were disappointed, he came up to his house in Hampstead, near London. Besides feeling uncon- scious " of having done any thing in relation to public affairs, for which he could not willingly and cheerfully suffer," he had received from Charles the promise of a merciful indemnity. The promise was redeemed, by assigning Vane to the Tower. Both houses, however, petitioned the king to spare his life ; and Charles pro- mised, that if Vane were attainted, the execution might be re- mitted. During more than two years, he was removed from prison to prison, and at length consigned to a solitary castle on the island of Scilly. He continued to write, in the spirit of a Christian philosopher, various treatises, on government, reli- gion, life, death, friends, &c. ; while, in the mean time, the king was using every effort to secure a majority in parliament that would consent to his death. In a letter to his wife, he says — • "It is no small satisfaction to me in these sharp trials, to expe- rience the truth of those Christian principles, which God of his grace hath afforded you and me the knowledge and emboldened us to make the profession of. Have faith and hope, my dearest ; God's arm is not shortened ; doubtless, great and precious pro- mises are yet in store to be accomplished, in and upon believers here on earth, to the making of Christ admired in them. And if we cannot live in the power and actual possession of them, 190 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. yet if wo die in the certain foresight and embracing of them by faith, it will be our great blessing. This dark night and black shade which God hath drawn over his work in the midst of us, may be, for aught we know, the ground colour to some beautiful piece that he is now exposing to the light." Soon after the writing of the letter from which this is ex- tracted, Vane was remanded to the Tower. On the 2d of June, he was brought to trial as a false traitor, &c. The indictment charged him with compassing and imagining the death of Charles I., of conspiring to subvert the ancient government of the realm, of associating with traitors, and like offences. He was refused counsel, and asked to plead guilty or not guilty. He denied any obligation to plead on the indictment, and in a speech of consummate ability, demanded, as a member of par- liament, a trial before his equals, and the benefit of counsel. He was assured that counsel would be granted him, if he con- sented to plead to the indictment. After long hesitancy, he consented, pleading not guilty. He was remanded to prison, where he remained four days. When the day of trial came, his demand to the judges for counsel was answered by the as- sertion, that they would be his counsel. The ensuing trial, whe- ther we consider the shameless injustice of the court, the de- fence of Vane, or the impression produced upon the people, is one of the most remarkable in English annals. The jury, after a secret consultation with Vane's bitter opponent, the solicitor- general, returned a verdict of guilty. On returning to his cell. Vane was visited by some friends. They found him cheerful, although during the ten hours he had passed in court he had not tasted any refreshment, and was most of the time engaged in intricate argument. After stating to them that he had anticipated all which had occurred, Vane blessed God that " he had been strengthened to maintain him- self at the post which Providence had assigned him ; that ar- guments had been suggested to his mind ; that he had not been left to overlook any means of defence ; that his lips had been clothed with more than their usual eloquence ; and that by His gracious help, he had been enabled to discharge, to his own entire satisfaction, the duty he owed to his country, and to the liberty of his countrymen. He had spoken that day, as he told his judges, not for his own sake only, but for theirs, and SIR HENRY VANE. 191 for posterity. He had done his best, and his utmost for him self, and for his fellow-men ; his conscience was discharged, his obligations to society were fulfilled, and his mind was therefore at peace with itself, at peace with the world, and full of satis faction, comfort, and joy." Charles had now an opportunity to redeem his promise. He did so, by writing a letter to Clarendon, in which he describes Vane as a man " too dangerous to let live, if we can honestly put him out of the way." Clarendon understood him ; and on the 11th of June, Vane was brought forward to receive sen- tence. He stated in a forcible manner many reasons for an arrest of judgment, but these were overlooked, and he was sen- tenced to die on the scaffold. During the short space of three days, he prayed with and exhorted his wife and children, who were permitted to remain with him. On the fatal morning, he kissed his children, and said, <•<■ The Lord bless you — he will be a better father to yoa — I must now forget that ever I knew you. * * * Be not you troubled, for I am going home to my father." In his prayer, occurred words almost prophetic. " I die in the certain faith and foresight that this cause shall have its resurrection in my death. My blood will be the seed sown, by which this glorious cause will spring up, which God will speedily raise. * * * As for that glorious cause which God hath owned in these nations, and will own, in which so many righteous souls have lost their lives, and so many have been en- gaged by my council and encouragement, shall I now give it up, and so declare them all rebels and murderers ? No ; I will never do it. That precious blood shall never lie at my door» As a testimony and seal to the justness of that quarrel, I leave now my life upon it, as a legacy to all the honest interest in these three nations. Ten thousand deaths rather than defile my conscience, the chastity and purity of which I value beyond all this world. I would not for ten thousand lives part with this peace and satisfaction I have in my own heart, both in holding to the purity of my principles, and to the righteousness of this good cause, and to the assurance I have that God is now fulfilling all these great and precious promises, in order to what he is bringing forth. Although I see it not, yet I die in the faith and assured expectation of it." He was drawn to the scaffold on a sled, and everywhere hailed 192 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. with demonstrations of sympathy by the people. After mount ing the scaffold, he attempted to address the crowds, but was interrupted by noise of trumpets, the paper snatched from his hands, and even his pockets were searched for papers. " As might have been expected, (says Upham in the American Bio- graphy,) and a;S the government had most seriously appre- hended, a great impression had by this time been made by the prisoner upon the vast multitude that surrounded him. The people remembered his career of inflexible virtue and patriot- ism. They had been roused to indignation by the treatment he had received at the hands of Cromwell, and of the restored monarch. His trial had revived the memory of his services and sufferings. The fame of his glorious defence had rung far and wide through the city and nation. The enthusiasm by which he had been welcomed by weeping and admiring thou- sands, as he passed from prison to Tower Hill ; the sight of that noble countenance ; the serene, and calm, and almost divine composure of his deportment ; his visible triumph over the fear of death, and the malice of his enemies — all these influences, brought at once to bear upon their minds, and concentrated and heightened by the powers of an eloquence that was the wonder of his contemporaries, had produced an effect which it was evi- dent could not, with safety to the government, be permitted to be wrought any higher." Finding that he could not be heard, Vane remarked, " It is a bad cause which cannot bear the words of a dying man," and kneeled down to pray. " I bless the Lord, (were his words,) who hath accounted me worthy to suffer for his name. Blessed be the Lord, that I have kept a conscience void of offence to this day. I bless the Lord, I have not deserted the righteous cause for which I suffer." " Father, (he said at the block,) glorify thy servant in the sight of men, that he may glorify thee in the discharge of his duty to thee, and to his country." With one stroke, the head was severed from the body. His death, considered merely as an act of policy, was the greatest blunder that the king could have com- mitted ; and it gave the Stuart dynasty a shock from which it never recovered. ^h ■■.Hl..i....,....„..,..n..,.m.„,»...^^ 7 j|jjjjjj|iiiiiiiiifa--»|"«i«aiiii liililjj 11 i^5^~ !j|lil:: mm \\ ■<'^^^x ^^M JOHN KNOX. 193 JOHN KNOX. NOX, the son of obscure parents, was born in 1505 ; there is some doubt respecting his birthplace, which was probably the village of GrifFord, in East Lothian, although it has been asserted that he was born at Haddington. His education was more liberal than was then common. In his youth, he was put to the grammar school at Haddington, and about 1524, removed to the University of St. Andrew's, where the learning principally taught was the phi- losophy of Aristotle, scholastic theology, civil and canon law, and the Latin language ; Greek and Hebrew were at that time little understood in Scot- land, and Knox did not acquire the knowledge of them until somewhat later in his life. " After he was cre^ ated master of arts, he taught philosophy, most proba- bly as an assistant or private lecturer in the university, and his class became celebrated." " He was ordained a priest before he reached the age fixed by the canons of the church, which must have taken place previous to the year 1530, at which time he had attained his twenty-fifth year, the canonical age for receiving ordination."* His first instruction in theology was received from John Major, the professor of theology in the uni- versity, but the opinions founded upon it were not long retained; the writings of Jerome and Augustin attracted his attention, and the examination of them led to a complete revolution in his sentiments. It was about the year 1535 that his secession from Roman Catholic doctrines and discipline commenced, but he did not declare himself a Protestant until 1542. The reformed doctrines had made considerable progress in 25 * M'Crie's Life, vol. i. R 12. 1 94 I^IVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Scotland before tins time. Knox was not the first reformer, there were many persons, " earls, barons, gentlemen, honest burgesses, and craftsmen," who already professed the new creed, though they durst not avow it ; it was to the avowal, extension, and establishment of the reformed religion that his zeal and knowledge so powerfully contributed. His reprehension of the prevalent corruptions made him regarded as a heretic ; for which reason he could not safely remain in St. Andrew's, which was wholly in the power of Cardinal Beaton, a determined sup- porte'r of the church of Rome, and he retired to the south of Scotland, where he avowed his apostasy. He w^as condemned as a heretic, degraded from the priesthood, and it is said by Beza that Beaton employed assassins to waylay him. He now for a time frequented the preaching of the reformed teachers, Williams and Wishart, who gave additional strength to opinions already pretty firmly rooted ; and having relinquished all thouo;hts of officiatinoj in the Roman Catholic church, he became tutor to the sons of Hugh Douglas, of Langniddrie, a gentle- man of East Lothian, who had embraced the reformed doctrines. After the murder of Cardinal Beaton, Knox removed with his pupils from Langniddrie to St. Andrew's, (1547,) where he con- ducted their education in his accustomed manner, catechising and reading to them in the church belonging to the city. There were many hearers of these instructions, who urged him, and finally called upon him to become a public preacher. Diffident and reluctant at first, upon consideration he consented to their request. In his preaching, far more than the reformed teach- ers who had preceded him, he struck at the very foundations of popery, and challenged his opponents to argument, to be delivered either in writing or from the pulpit, and so successful were his labours, that many of the inhabitants were converted to his doctrines. It was not long before an event took place, by which his efforts received a temporary check. The murder of Cardinal Beaton had given great offence, and created great excitement through the kingdom. It was a severe blow to the Roman Catholic religion and the French interest in Scotland, both of which he had zealously supported, and vengeance was loudly called for upon the conspirators by whom he had been murdered. These conspirat'jrs had fortified St. Andrew's, and the art of JOHN KNOX. 195 attacking fortified places was then so imperfectly understood in Scotland, that for five months they resisted the efforts of Arran, the regent. From their long wars in Italy and Ger- many, the French had become as experienced in the conduct of sieges as the Scotch were ignorant. The French were allies of Scotland ; to France, therefore, Arran sent for assistance. About the end of June, 1547, a French fleet, with a consider- able body of land forces, appeared before the town.* The gar- rison capitulated, and Knox, among many others, was taken prisoner, and conveyed to Rouen, where he was confined on board the galleys. After nineteen months' close imprisonment, he was liberated, with his health greatly injured by the rigour with which he had been treated, (1549.) Knox now repaired to England, and though he had never received ordination as a Protestant, Cranmer did not hesitate to send him from London to preach in Berwick. In Berwick and the north of England he followed his arduous undertaking of conversion until 1551, when he was made one of King Edward's chaplains, with a salary of 4-01 a year. While his friends in the English adminis- tration offered him further preferment, which he declined, his enemies brought charges against him before the council, of which he was soon afterwards acquitted. He was in London at the time of Edward's death, but thought it prudent to fly the kingdom as soon as Mary's policy towards the Protestants be- came apparent. In January, 1554, he landed at Dieppe; from Dieppe he went to Geneva ; and from Geneva to Frankfort, where Calvin requested him to take charge of a congregation of English refugees. In consequence of some disputes, he returned from Frankfort to Geneva, and, after a few months* residence there, to Scotland, where he again zealously promul- gated his doctrines. The English congregation at Geneva having appointed him their preacher, he thought right to make another journey to the continent, (1556,) which he quit- ted finally in 1559. During these, the quietest years of his life, he published " The First Blast of the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regiment of Women," in which he vehemently attacked the admission of females to the government of nations. Its first sentence runs thus : " To promote a woman to bear * Robertson vol. i. 314. ^96 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. rule, superiority, dominion, or empire above any realm, nation^ or city, is repugnant to nature, contumely to God, a thing most contrarious to his revealed will and approved ordinance, and finally it is the subversion of all equity and justice." This inflammatory composition, as might have been expected, excited fresh hostility against its author. At the time of its publica- tion, both England and Scotland were governed by females ; Mary of Guise, the queen-dowager of Scotland, was likewise regent of that kingdom, while the Princess Mary was heiress of its throne : and in England Mary was queen, and her sister Elizabeth the next in succession to the crown. It hardly ad- mits of wonder then that when, in 1559, Knox was desirous of returning to England, Queen Elizabeth's ministers would not permit him to do so, and he was compelled to land at Leith. The Protestants in Scotland Avere by this time nearl;y equal to the Roman Catholics, both in power and in number ; but their condition had lately been changed somewhat for the worse. The queen-regent, who, from motives of policy, had found it desirable to conciliate and uphold them, from similar motives had become their opponent and oppressor ; and many of the preachers of the '' Congregation" (the name by w^hich the body of Protestants was then called) were summoned for various causes to take their trial. It was on a day not long previous to these trials that Knox returned to his country to resume the labours of his ministry. Hearing of the condition of his asso- ciates, <'he hurried instantly," says Robertson, i. 375, "to Perth, to share with his brethren in the common danger, or to assist them in the common cause. While their minds were in that ferment, which the queen's perfidiousness (she had broken a promise to stop the trial) and their own danger occasioned, he mounted the pulpit, and, by a vehement harangue against idola- try, inflamed the multitude with the utmost rage.'* The indis- cietion of a priest, who, immediately after Knox's sermon, was preparing to celebrate mass, caused a violent tumult. The churches in the city were broken open, altars were overturned, pictures defaced, images destroyed, and the monasteries levelled with the ground. The insurrection, which was not the efi'ect of any concert or previous deliberation, was censured by the reformed preachers ; and it affixes no blame to the character of Knox. The queen-regent sent troops to quell this rebellion j JOHN KNOX 197 troops were also raised by the Protestants, but a treaty was entered into before any blood was shed. The promotion of the Reformation in his own country was now Knox's sole object ; he was reinstated in his pulpit at St. Andrew's, and preached there in his usual rough, vehement, zealous, and powerful manner, until the lords of the Congrega- tion took possession of Edinburgh, where he was immediately chosen minister. His efforts gave great offence and alarm to the Roman Catholic clergy, especially during a circuit that he made of Scotland. Armies were maintained and sent into the field by both parties, for treaties were no sooner made than they were violated; French troops again came to succour the Roman Catholic clergy ; and to oppose them, Knox entered into cor- respondence with Cecil, and obtained for his party the assist- ance of some forces from England. The "Congregation," how- ever, had many difficulties and disasters to struggle with. A messenger, whom they had sent to receive a remittance of mo- ney from the English, was intercepted and rifled ; their soldiers mutinied for want of pay, their numbers decreased, and their arms were unsuccessful. Under these circumstances, it required all the zeal and the courage of Knox to sustain the animation of his dispirited colleagues ; his addresses from the pulpit were continual and persevering. As the treaty by which the civil war was concluded made no settlement in religion, the reformers found no fresh obstacle to the continuance of their eftbrts ; and Knox resumed his office of minister in Edinburgh. In this year, (1560,) the queen-regent died, and in the following, Queen Mary took possession of the throne of Scotland ; her religious opinions were Roman Catholic, but she employed Protestant counsellors. The preaching of Knox and his denunciations of her religious practice attracted her attention. At different times, he had interviews with her, (which at first gave rise to much specula- tion,) but neither her artifices produced much effect, nor his arguments ; so stern was he, and so rough in his rebukes, that he once drove her into tears. At her instigation, Knox was accused of treason, and was tried, but the whole convention of counsellors, excepting the immediate dependants of the court, pronounced that he had not been guilty of any breach of the laws, (1563.) Knox '■•ontinued his exertions with difficulties of different b2 198 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. kin is constantly besetting him. At one time he was prohibited from preaching, at another he was refused entrance into Edin- burgh after a temporary absence ; but, on the whole, his influ- ence was little impaired, and his opposition to popery successful. His health, however, was affected by continual exertion : in 1570, he was struck with apoplexy, from which he so far reco- vered as to renew his labours for more than a year; but in 1572 his exhausted constitution gave way, and he died on the 24th of November. He was buried in Edinburgh, in the church then called St. Giles's, now the Old Church. Knox was twice married; first, in 1553, to Marjory, daughter of Sir Robert Bowes ; afterwards, in 1564, to Margaret Stew- art, daughter of Lord Ochiltree ; he had sons only by his first marriage ; they all died without issue. He had three daughters by his second wife ; the youngest, Mrs. Welch, appears to have been a remarkable person. The doctrines of Knox were those of the English reformers, impregnated to a certain extent with Calvinism. His opinions respecting the sacraments coincided with those of the English Protestants : he preached that all sacrifices which men ofi"ered for sin were blasphemous ; that it was incumbent to make an open profession of the doctrine of Christ, and to avoid idolatry, superstition, and every way of worship unauthorized by the Scriptures; he was altogether opposed to episcopacy. His views were more austere than those promulgated in England ; and it would be curious to trace in what degree the present greater severity of the Scotch Presbyterians, compared with that of the English Protestants, is attributable to this reformer. The opposition of Knox, as well to episcopacy as to papacy, has caused his reputation to be severely dealt with by many "writers of contrary opinions on these points. A most elaborate character of him has been drawn at some length by Dr. M'Crie, and, though it may perhaps be well to inform the reader that Dr. M'Crie was a rigid Presbyterian, we think it on the whole a just representation. We subjoin a brief summary of it: Knox possessed strong talents ; was inquisitive, ardent, acute, vigor- ous, and bold in his conceptions. He was a stranger to none of the branches of learning cultivated in that age by persons of his profession, and he felt an irresistible desire to impart his knowledge to others. Intrepidity, independence, and elevation JOHN KNOX. 199 of mind, indefatigable activity, and constancy which no disap- pointments could shake, eminently qualified him for the post which he occupied. In private life he was loved and revered by his friends and domestics : when free from depression of spirits, the result of ill health, he was accustomed to unbend his mind, and was often witty and humorous. Most of his faults may be traced to his natural temperament, and the character of the age and country in which he lived. His passions were strong, and as he felt he expressed himself, without reserve or disguise. His zeal made him intemperate : he was obstinate, austere, stern, and vehement. These defects, which would have been inexcusable in most other persons, may be more easily for- given in him, for they were among the most successful weapons in his warfare. 20C LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JACOB BOHME. PPER LUSATIA contained a small market town called Alt-Seidenberg, (Brucker writes Palseo-Seidenburgum,) distant from Gorlitz about a mile and a half, in which lived a man whose name was Jacob, and his wife's name was Ursula. They were poor, but sober and honest. In the year 1575 they had a son, Avhom they named Jacob. This was that Jacob Bohme who was afterwards called the Teutonic philosopher. His first em- ployment was the care of cattle, but when grown older he was placed at a school, where he learned to ead and to write, and was afterwards apprenticed to ^^ ^ shoemaker in Gorlitz. Having served his time, in tj^\^ the year 1594 he took to wife Catharine, the daughter of the butcher Johann Hunschmann, a citizen of Gorlitz, by whom he had four sons. His sons he placed to honest trades. He himself became master-shoemaker in 1595. Jacob Bohme relates that when a herdsboy he had a re- markable trial. In the heat of mid-day, retiring from his play-fellows he went to a stony crag called the Landskron, and, finding an entrance or aperture overgrown with bushes, he went in, and saw there a large wooden vessel full of money, at which sight, being in a sudden astonishment, he retired in haste with- out touching it, and related his fortune to the rest of the boys, who, coming with him, sought often an entrance, but could never find any. Some years after a foreign artist, as Jacob Bohme himself related, skilled in finding out magical treasures, took it away, and thereby much enriched himself; yet he perished by an infamous death, that treasure being lodged there and covered with a curse to him that should find and take it away. He also relates that when he was an apprentice, his master JACOB BOHME. 201 and his mistress being abroad, there came to the shop a stran- ger, of a reverend and grave countenance, yet in mean apparel, and taking up a pair of shoes, desired to buy them. The boy, being yet scarce promoted higher than sweeping the shop, would not presume to set a price on them ; but the stranger being very importunate, Jacob at last named a price Vv-hich he was certain would keep him harmless in parting with them. The old man paid the money, took the shoes, and went from the shop a little way, when, standing still, with a loud and earnest voice he called, '• Jacob, Jacob, come forth." The boy came out in a great fright, amazed that the stranger should call him by his Christian name. The man, with a severe but friendly countenance, fixing his eyes upon him, which were bright and sparkling, took him by his right hand and said to him: — "Jacob, thou art little, butshalt be great, and become another man, such a one as the world shall wonder at; therefore be pious, fear God, and reverence his word. Read diligently the Holy Scriptures, wherein thou hast comfort and instruction. For thou must endure much misery and poverty, and suffer persecution ; but be courageous and persevere, for God loves and is gracious unto thee ;" and therewith pressing his hand, with a bright sparkling eye fixed on his face, he departed. This prediction made a deep impression upon Jacob's mind, and made him bethink himself, and grow serious in his actions, keeping his^houghts stirring in consideration of the caution received. Thenceforward he frequented public worship much more, and profited thereby to the outward reformation of his life. Considering Luke xi. 13 — "My Father in heaven will give his Spirit to him that asks him," he desired that Comforter. He says that he was at last "surrounded with a divine light for seven days, and stood in the highest contemplation and in the kingdom of joys whilst he was with his master in the country about the affairs of his vocation." He then grew still more attentive to his duties, read the Scriptures, and lived in all the observance of outward ministrations. Scurrilous and blasphe- mous words he would rebuke even in his own master, who, being not able to bear this, set him at liberty with full permission to seek his livelihood as he liked best. About the year 1600, in the twenty -fifth year of his age, Jacob was again surrounded by the divine light, and viewing the herbs and gr-iss in the 2G 202 LI\ES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. fields near Gorlitz in his inward light, he saAY into their essences, use, and properties, which were discovered to him by their linea- ments, figures, and signatures. In like manner he beheld the whole creation, and from that fountain of revelation he wrote his book De Signatu7'a Rerum. In unfolding these mysteries he had great joy, yet he looked carefully after his family, and lived in peace and silence, scarce intimating to any these wonderful things, till in the year 1610, he wrote his first book, eaWe^ Aurora, or the Morning Redness. This manuscript he did not choose to intrust to any man, till a gentleman of rank, an intimate friend of his, having got sight of it, prevailed upon him to indulge him w4th the perusal of it. This gentleman immediately took it to pieces, and with his own hand, assisted by other transcribers, copied it with amazing des- patch. Thus, contrary to the author's intention, it became public, and fell into the hands of Gregory Richter, superinten- dent of Gorlitz, who making use of his pulpit for speaking with- out a gainsayer, to revile what and whom he pleased, endeavoured to stir up the magistracy to exercise their jurisdiction in rooting out this supposed church-weed. The senate convened Jacob Bohme, seized his book, and admonished him to stick to his last, and leave off writing books. The original manuscript of the Aurora, in Bohme's own hand- writing, was (after having been seven and twenty years in the custody of the senate at Gorlitz) on Nov. 26, 1641,4ii:esented by Dr. Paul Scipio, the then burgomaster or mayor there, to George Pflug, marshal to the court of the elector of Dresden. Pflug, who was well affected to Bohme, was then on a visit at Gorlitz. Pflug despatched this manuscript to Abraham Wilhelm van Beyerland, a citizen and merchant of Amsterdam. Upon the command of the senate he abstained from writing for seven years, after which he w^as moved again to write. The list of his Avorks stands as follows. The books which he left unfinished are put in parentheses. 1. Aurora. 2. Of the Three Principles, 1619. 3. Of the Threefold Life of Man, 1620. 4. Answers to the Forty Ques- tions of the Soul. 5. Of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. Of the Suffering, Death, and Resurrection of Christ. Of the Tree of Faith. 6. Of the Six Points, great and small. 7. Of the Hea\enly and Earthly Mystery. 8. Of the last times^ to P JACOB BOHME. iiOo K. 9. De Signatura Rerum. 10. A Consolatory Book of the Four Complexions. 11. An Apology to Balthasar Tilken, in two parts. 12. Considerations upon Isaias Stiefel's book. 13. Of true Repentance, 1622. 14. Of true Resignation. 15. A Book of Regeneration. 16. A book of Predestination and Election of God, 1623. 17. A Compendium of Repentance. 18. Mysterium Magnum, or an Exposition upon Genesis. 19. A Table of the Principles, or a Key of his Writings. 20. Of the Supersensual Life. 21. (Of the Divine Vision.) 22. Of the two Testaments of Christ, Baptism and the Supper. 23. A Dialogue between the enlightened and unenlightened Soul. 24. An Apology for the Book on true Repentance, against a Pamphlet of the Primate of Gorlitz, Gregory Richter. 25. (A Book of 177 Theosophick Questions.) 26. An Epitome of the Mysterium Magnum. 27. (The Holy Weeks, or the Prayer Book.) 28. A Table of the Divine Manifestation. 29. Of the Errors of the Sects of Ezekiel Meths and Isaias Stiefel, or An- tistiefelius II. 30. A Book of the Last Judgment. 31. Letters to divers Persons with Keys for hidden Words. The publication of his first book made many learned men visit him, v/ith whom much conversing, he got the use of those Greek and Latin words that are frequent in his works. Among the learned that conversed with him was a physician, Balthasar Walter, from Silesia, who had travelled in search of ancient magical learning through Egypt, Syria, Arabia, &c., where he found such small remnants of it, that he returned unsatisfied to his own country, where he became inspector of the chemical laboratory at Dresden. Having become acquainted with Bbhme, he rejoiced that at last he had found at home, in a poor cottage, that for which he had travelled so far in vain. Walter introduced the appellation of Philosoijlius Teutonicus. B. Walter went to the German universities, and collected such questions concerning the soul as were thought and ac- counted impossible to be resolved fundamentally, of which he made a catalogue, being forty in number, and sent them to Bohme, from whom he received answers to his satisfaction, (which answers are public in many languages.) Balthasar Walter came to Bohme and professed that he had received more solid answers than he had found among the best wits of those and more promising climates. ^204 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANAS. The translator of the said answers into English presented a oopy to King Charles I., who, a month after, said that if Bohme were no scholar, the Holy Ghost was now in men ; but if he were a scholar, he was one of the best. Doctor Weisner, after giving in a letter a curious account of the persecution of Bohme by Gregorius Richter, the primate of Gorlitz, of Jacob's banishment by the senate, of their repealing their absurd and unjust order, goes on to say, — " Yet still tired with the prelate's incessant clamour, they at length sent for him again, and entreated him that in love to the city's quiet he would seek himself a habitation elsewhere ; which if he would do they should hold themselves obliged to him for it, as an acceptable service. In compliance with this friendly request of theirs, he removed from thence. After this upon a citation, Jacob Bohme came to Dresden before his highness the prince elector of Saxony, where were assembled six doctors of divinity, Dr. Hoe, Dr. Meisner, Dr. Balduin, Dr. Gerhard, Dr. Leysern, and another doctor, and two professors of the mathematics. And these, in the presence of his highness the prince elector, began to examine him concerning his writings, and the high mysteries therein; and many profound queries in divinit}^ philosophy, and the mathematics they proposed to him. To all which he replied with such meekness of spirit, such depth of knowledge and fulness of matter, that none of those doctors and professors returned one word of dislike or contradiction. The prince his highness much admired him, and required to know the result of their judgments in what they had heard. But the doctors and examiners desired to be excused, and en- treated his highness that he would have patience till the spirit of the man had more plainly declared itself, for in many par- ticulars they could not understand him. " To Jacob Bohme's questions they returned answers with much modesty, being amazed to hear from a man of that mean quality such mysterious depths. "There were two astrologers present, to whom, having dis- coursed of their science, he said, <■ Thus far is the knowledge of ycur art right and good, grounded in the mystery of nature; but what is over and above are heathenish additions.' " The elector being satisfied with his answers, took him apart, JACOB BOHME 205 and discoursed with him concerning difficult points, and cour- teously dismissed him. " After this Dr. Meisner and Dr. Gerhard, meeting at Witten* berg, expressed how greatly they admired the continued har mony of Scriptures produced at his examination. Many learned men and preachers now taught those doctrines of regeneration and the means of attaining it against which they formerly ex- claimed as heretical. Bohme wrote in the albums of his friends, "Wem Zeit ist wie Ewigkeit Und Ewigkeit wie die Zeit Der ist befreit von allem Streit." <•' Soon after Bbhme's return to Grorlitz, died his adversary, the pastor primarius Gregorius Richter ; and Bohme himself died three months and a half later. " On Sunday, Nov. 18, 1624, early in the morning, he asked his son Tobias if he heard the excellent music ? The son replied, 'No.' ' Open,' said he, ' the door, that it may be better heard.' Afterward he asked what the clock had struck, and said, ' Three hours hence is my time.' "When it was near six he took leave of his wife and son, blessed them, and said, 'Now go I hence into Paradise;' and bidding his son to turn him, lie fetched a deep sigh and departed. The new primarius refused to preach at his funeral, feigning to be unwell, and his colleague, Magister Elias Theodorus, being compelled by the magistracy to preach on his death, began by saying he would rather have walked 100 miles than preach the funeral sermon. "The physician at Gorlitz, Dr. Kober, arranged his burial, which was performed with the usual ceremonies, to the due performance of which the clergy were compelled by the magis- trates. His friends placed a cross on his grave, but his enemies pelted it with mud, and broke it to pieces. Jacob Bohme's wife died of the plague two years later. One of his four sons was a goldsmith ; the others had learned other trades. All died soon after J. Bohme." He was lean, and of small stature; had a low forehead; his temples were prominent; was somewhat hawk-nosed; his eyes were gray and very azure ; his beard was thin and short ; hia voice low, but he had a pleasing speech, and was modest and S 206 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. humble in Ills conversation. He wrote very slowly but legibly, and seldom or never struck out and corrected what he had written. After Bbhme's death his opinions spread over Germany, Holland, and England. Even a son of his persecutor, Richter, being then a merchant's clerk at Thorn, edited at his own ex- pense an epitome of Bohme's works in 8 volumes, and arranged their contents in a sort of an index. The younger Richter became fond of Bohme's doctrines while he yet attempted to refute them. He printed of his extracts only about 100 copies; consequently they are now extremely scarce. The first col- lection of Bohme's works was published by Heinrich Betke, Amst. 1675, 4to. Bohme and his followers were especially persecuted by the clergy, who seemed to deem his writings on theosophical sub- jects an infringe?iient of the prerogatives of the clerical order. The ecclesiastics at Gbrlitz persecuted Bbhme during his life, and refused to bury his corpse until they were compelled by the magistrates not to disgrace the earthly remains of a man who had led a harmless life, and always been in strict communion with the Lutheran church. The admirers of Bbhme were for the greater part not professional divines, but noblemen, country gentlemen, courtiers, physicians, chemists, merchants, and in general, men who were eager in the pursuit of truth, and who did not stickle for modes of speech and established formalities. The persecutions raised against him brought Bbhme first into the notice of men of rank, who took delight in conversing with the poor shoemaker and his followers, while universities and ecclesiastical courts enacted laws against his opinions, and his persecuted disciples appealed even in England to the high court of parliament. Sir Isaac Newton, William Law, Schelling, and Hegel, were all readers of Bbhme. William Law, in the appendix to the second edition of his " Appeal to all that doubt or disbelieve the Truths of the Gos- pel," 1756, mentions, that among the papers of Newton were found many autograph extracts from the works of Bbhme. Law conjectures that Newton derived his system of fundamental powers from Bbhme, and that he avoided mentioning Bbhme, as the originator of his system, lest it should come into disrepute Bbhme's theosophy consists in the endeavour to demonstrate JACOB BOHME. 207 in every thing its necessity by tracing its origin to the attributes of God. Consequently some of Bohme's phrases sound like the doctrines of Manichsean emanation, and have been misinter- preted as being such. Bohme traces the parallelism between the visible physical, and the invisible metaphysical world. His comparisons and images are not the essence of his theosophy, but only illustrative of thoughts which have commanded the admiration and approbation of some of the deepest thinkers, while others are apt to neglect him entirely on account of his errors in subordinate non-essentials. Bohme forms undoubtedly an important link in the chain of thought, which connects the present state of philosophy with the beginnings of former ages. He often produces magnificent ideas, but he occasionally sup- ports his theory by false etymologies, and by chemical and astrological notions which have been long ago rejected. A specimen of false etymology is his derivation of the word qualitat (^. e. quality) from the German qual, i, e. pain, and quelle, i, e. well, fountain, source. He has now again many admirers in Germany, but perhaps no one woul^ approve of this mode f demonstration. 208 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. HUGO GROTIUS. UGO GROTIUS was born at Delft, 10th April, 1583, of which town his father, John de Groot, was burgomaster, and also curator of the then newly established University of Leyden. From his boyhood, Grotius mani- fested an extraordinary ability ; and he is said to have written Latin verses when he was only eight years old. At the age of eleven, he was sent to the University of Leyden, where his education was particularly superintended by the theologian Junius, with whom he lived, and by Joseph Scaliger. He remained three years at Ley- den, during which he applied himself to the study of divinity, law, and mathematics. Li 1597, he main- tained two public theses on philosophy, and wrote in praise of Henry IV., in Latin, a poem entitled " Tri- umphus Gallicus," which he dedicated to M. de Buzenval, the French ambassador in Holland. In 1598, he accompanied a Dutch embassy to Paris, where he was introduced to the king, who gave him a golden chain and presented him to his court as the miracle of Holland. After one year's stay in France, where he was treated with much distinction by many eminent pei^onages, he returned to Holland, whence he addressed a let- ter to Thuanus, (De Thou,) expressing his regret at having missed an opportunity of making his acquaintance when in France. This letter laid the foundation of a 'literary and friendly correspondence, which lasted till the death of Thuanus. In the same year, (1599,) he published an edition of Martianus Capella, with notes, which he dedicated to the Prince de Condd This edition is adorned, besides a portrait of the Prince de Cond^, with that of Grotius himself, aged fifteen, wearing the chain which he had received from Henry IV. Immediately on HUGO GROTIUS. 20d his return from France, Grotius was called to the bar, and pleaded with great success ; but his legal occupations did not prevent him from attending to other studies. In the same year, 1599, he published a Latin translation of a nautical work, written by Stevinus, at the request of the Prince Maurice of Nassau, for the use of naval officers. In 1600, appeared his edition of the "Phgenomena" of Aratus. The corrections he made in the Greek text are considered to be very judicious, and his notes show some knowled2:e of Arabic. Notwithstanding; these serious studies, Grotius found time for cultivating poetry, and with such success that he was considered one of the best Latin poets of his time. The " Prosopopeia" of the city of Ostend, which had sustained a siege of three years, was univer- sally considered a masterpiece, and was translated into French by Eapin, Pasquier, and Malherbe, and into Greek by Isaac Casaubon. Grotius was nominated advocate-general for the treasury of Holland and Zealand in 1607, and in the next year married Mary Reygersburgh, a lady of great family in Zealand. In 1613, he was made pensionary of Rotterdam, an important place, which gave him a seat in the assembly of the states of Holland, and afterwards in that of the states-general, and it was about that time that he contracted an intimate friendship with Olden Barneveldt, a connection which exercised the greatest influence on his life. In 1615, Grotius was sent to England, in order to arrange the difficulties arising from the claims of the- English to exclude the Dutch from the whale-fisheries of Green- land. During that negotiation, Grotius was by no means satis- fied with the English ministry ; but he was much pleased with his reception by King James. The most agreeable incident of his visit to England was, however, the opportunity which it afforded him of forming an intimate friendship with Isaac Casaubon, in common with whom he entertained a hope of uniting all Christians into one church. The 'intimacy of Grotius with Barneveldt, whose political and religious opi- nions he shared, involved him in the misfortune of his friend. He was condemned, on the 18th May, 1619, to perpetual imprisonment, and his property was confiscated. Pursuant to this sentence, he was conveyed, on the 6th Jane, in the same year, to the fortress of Loevestein, situated at the ex 27 8 2 210 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. tremit^ of an island formed bj the Maas and the Waal. Hia wife was allowed to share her husband's imprisonment ; but Grotius's father was refused permission to see his son. During the imprisonment of Grotius, study became his consolation and the business of his life. In several of his letters, addressed from Loevestein to Yossius, he gives an account of his studies, informing him that he was occupied with law and moral philo- sophy. He devoted his Sundays to reading works on religious subjects, and he employed in the same way the time which re- mained after his ordinary labours were over. He wrote, during his imprisonment, his treatise on the truth of the Christian re- ligion, in Dutch verse, (which he subsequently translated into Latin prose,) translated the " Phoenissas" of Euripides into Latin verse, wrote the institutions of the laws of Holland in Dutch, and drew up for his daughter Cornelia a kind of cate- chism in one hundred and eighty-five questions and answers, written in Flemish verse. After eighteen months' confinement, Grotius was at last released by the ingenuity of his wife, who had obtained permission to go out of the prison twice a week. He constantly received books, which were brought in and taken out in a large chest together with his linen. For some time this chest was strictly examined by the guards ; but, finding only books and foul linen, they at last grew tired of the search and gave it up. Grotius's wife, having observed this, persuaded her husband to get into the chest, which he did, and in this manner escaped from the fortress on the 21st of March, 1621 He made his way through Antwerp to France, where his wife, who had been detained for about a fortnight in prison, joined him a few months afterwards. Louis XIII. received Grotius very favourably, and granted him a pension of 3000 livres ; but it was paid with great irre- gularity. He was harshly treated by the Protestant ministers of Charenton^ who, having assented to the doctrines of the Synod of Dordrecht, refused to admit Grotius into their communion, and he was obliged to have divine service performed at home. At Paris (1622) he published his "Apology," which was pro- hibited in Holland under severe penalties. Having spent a year at Paris, he retired to a country-seat of the President De Mesmes, near Senlis, where he spent the spring and summer of 1623. It was in that retreat that he commenced his work HUGO GROTIUS. 211 " De Jure Belli et Pacis," which was published in the next year. During his residence in France, he was constantly annoyed with importunities to come over to the Roman Catholic religion ; but, though he was tired of the country and received invitations from the Duke of Holstein and the King of Denmark, he de- clined them. Gustavus Adolphus also made him offers, which, after his death, were repeated by Oxenstiern in the name of Queen Christina. In the mean time, the Stadtholder Maurice died, and his successor seeming less hostile to Grotius, he was induced, by the entreaties of his Dutch friends, to venture to return. He arrived at Rotterdam in September, 1631, and the news of his return excited a great sensation throughout all Holland. But, in spite of all the efforts of his friends, he was again obliged to leave the country, and went (in 1632) to Ham- burg, where he lived till 1634, when he joined the Chancellor Oxenstiern at Frankfort-on-the-Main, who appointed him coun- cillor to the Queen of Sweden and her ambassador at the court of France. The object of the embassy was to obtain the assist- ance of France against the emperor. Grotius arrived at Paris in March, 1635 ; and, although he had many difficulties to en- counter from Richelieu, and afterwards from Mazarin, he main- tained the rights and promoted the interests of his adopted sovereign with great firmness. He continued in his post till 1644, when he was recalled at his own request. Having ob- tained a passport through Holland, he embarked on his return at Dieppe, and, on his landing at Amsterdam, (1645,) was re- ceived with great distinction and entertained at the public ex- pense. From Amsterdam he proceeded by Hamburg and Lli- beck to Stockholm, where he vvas received in the most flattering manner by the queen. Grotius, however, was not pleased with the learned flippancy of Christina's court, and resolved on quit- ting Sweden. The climate also did not agree with him. The queen, having in vain tried to retain him in her service, made him a present of a large sum of money and of some costly ob- jects. She also gave him a vessel, in which he embarked for Lubeck on the 12th August ; but a violent storm, by which his ship was tossed about during three days, obliged him to land on the ITth in Pomerania, about fifteen leagues from Danzig, whence he proceeded towards Lubeck. He arrived at Rostock. 212 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. on the 26tli, very ill from the fatigues of the journey, and from exposure to wind and rain in an open carriage. He died on the 28th August, 1645, in the sixty-third year of his age. His last moments were spent in religious preparation, and he died expressing the sentiments of a true Christian. His body was carried to Delft and deposited in the grave of his ancestors, where a monument was erected to him in 1781. Two medals were struck in honour of him. Notwithstanding his stormy life, the works of Grotius are very numerous. They treat of divinity, jurisprudence, history, literature, and poetry. Many of them are become classical. I JOHN ELIOT. 213 JOHN ELIOT. LIOT is believed to have been by birth an Englishman, and was born in 1604. Little is known of his early history. His mind was from childhood deeply imbued with a sense of religious duty, and for this he appears to have been remarkable at Cambridge Univer- sity. But no real change of heart appears to have taken place until, after leaving the uni- versity, he became usher in the school of Little Baddow, which was under the care of the Rev. Thomas Hooker. Here a deep conviction of his own sinfulness was forced upon him ; he devoted lii« whole mind to an investigation of gospel truth ; and soon received a degree of light and truth, which he considered as a witness that he was accepted as a child of God. He resolved to devote himself henceforth to the service of heaven ; and, to do so more effectually, he adopted the resolution of becoming pastor to some of the emigrant congrega- tions which were at that time settling on the shores of New Eng- land. In November, 1631, he arrived at Boston, joined a newly arrived congregation, was elected their pastor, and assisted in founding the town of Roxbury. The purity of his life, and the forcible manner in which he proclaimed the gospel, soon spread his reputation to the surrounding settlements, and caused his congregation to increase rapidly. To the hardy settlers his kindness to children was especially pleasing ; and to their edu- cation, both on secular and religious subjects, he devoted many hours of his life. But Eliot merits our greatest esteem by his efforts as a missionary among the Indians. His first sermon to these benighted people was at a place about four miles from Rox- bury. It was attended with prayer and other exercises, and •214 LIVKS OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. appears to have produced a deep effect. Other meetings met with such success, that the Indian doctors at length forbade their countrymen to attend them. The prohibition was vain. Numbers flocked from every side; many abandoned their savage, life and became true converts to the gospel; Indian congrega- tions were formed ; and a town was built, where the new con- verts could assemble and adopt the modes of civilized life. It was in fact the foundation of an Indian Christian community, where the wild sons of the forest laid aside the habits of their ancestors, and became useful to themselves and their children. "My desire," says Eliot, "is to teach them all to write, and read written hand, and thereby v;ith painstaking, they may have some of the Scriptures in their own language. If once I had some of themselves able to write and read, it might further the work exceedingly, and will be the speediest way." Such efforts could not be barren of results. The Indian congregation soon began to assume the order and comfort of a Puritan colony ; and the warm support afforded by the government at V\y- raouth, enabled Eliot to proceed rapidly in his good work among other and more distant tribes. He journeyed from place to place, everywhere proclaiming the glad news of salvation; and some of the converts, sharing his zeal, assisted in these labours. "I have not been dry night nor day," is his language, <'from the third day of the week to the sixth, but have travelled from place to place in that condition. At night I pull off my boot&, wring my stockings, and on with them again, and so continue. The rivers also were deep, so that we were wet in riding through. But God steps in and helps me. I have considered the exhor- tation of Paul to his son Timothy, 'endure hardness as.a good soldier of Jesus Christ,' with many other such like meditations." News of the success of Eliot at length reached England. Parliament, in an act which does them credit, made provision to encourage those engaged in converting the Indians ; and com- missioners raised large sums throughout England, and appro- priated them to the Indian mission. This assistance Eliot knew how to appreciate; but he was still obliged to struggle with difficulties. He felt that knowledge and religion should go hand in hand; and his desire was to see schools established, where might hi taught to the different tribes the English lan- guage and the rudiments of an English education. "Sundry JOHN ELIOT. 215 in the country," he says, "in different places would gladly be taught the knowledge of God and Jesus Christ, and would pray unto God, if I could go unto them and teach them where they dwell ; but to come and live here, among or near to the English, they are not willing. A place must be found somewhat remote from the English, where they must have the word constantly taught, and government constantly exercised, means of good subsistence, and encouragements for the industrious provided. Such a project would draw many that are Avell minded together." The result of these representations and labours was a con- siderable grant of land on the Charles river. Here was built the Indian town Natick, in which a large number of the new converts formed themselves into a civil and religious com- munity, and in a solemn manner openly dedicated themselves to God. The nature of the change which had taken place among the Indians cannot be better described than by exhibit- ing the death-bed scene of one of the converted chiefs. It is in Eliot's own words. " He made so gracious an end of his life, embraced death with such holy submission to the Lord, and was so little terrified at it, as that he hath greatly strengthened the faith of the living. I think he did more good by his death than he could have done by his life. One of his sayings was, God giveth us three mercies in the world — the first is health and strength, the second is food and clothes, the third is sick- ness and death; and when we have had our share in the two first, why should we not be willing to take our part in the third ? His last words were ' 0 Lord, give me Jesus Christ.' When he could speak no more, he continued to lift up his hands to hea- ven, according as his strength lasted, until his last breath. When I visited him the last time, one of his sayings was this : f outward marks of respect. He sajs, in his journal for 1648, "When the Lord sent me forth into the world, he forbid me to put off my hat to any, high or low, and I was required to thee and thou all men and women, without any respect to rich or poor, great or small ; and as I travelled up and down, I was not to bid people good-morrow or good-evening, neither might 1 bow or scrape with my leg to any one ; and this made the- sects and professions to rage." Nothing probably conduced so much to the virulent persecution of the Quakers as their refusal of such tokens of respect, which persons in office interpreted into wilful contempt, except their conscientious refusal to take any oath, which involved them in the heavy penalties attached to the refusal of the oaths of allegiance and supremacy. We shall not enter on a detail of his religious tenets, labours, or sufferings; the latter are fully recorded in his journal, and noticed in most histories. It is necessary, however, to refer to his doctrine, that "It is not the Scriptures, but the Holy Spirit, by which opinions and religions are to be tried." By this test, each convert might believe himself possessed of a peculiar in- fallible internal guide ; and, in fact, it proved a v/arrant for any wild fancies which entered the minds of his followers, and led some into extravagances which gave a colour for the cruel treatment which all experienced. Into such extravagances Fox himself does not appear to have been betrayed. From 1648 till within a few years of his death, his life was made up of travel, disputation, and imprisonment. He visited the con- tinent of Europe several times, and, in 1671, made a voyage to the American colonies. Wherever he went, he seems to have left permanent traces of his preaching and presence. Quaker meeting-houses were first established in Lancashire, and the parts adjacent, in 1652, and in 1667, the congregations were organized into one body for purposes of correspondence, charity, and the maintenance of uniform discipline. The term Quaker arose at Derby, in 1650, on occasion of Fox being brought be- fore one Justice Bennet, " who was the first that called us Quakers, because I bid them Tremble at the W^y^d of the Lord.** In 1677, and again in 1681, he visited the Netherlands, where his tenets had taken deep root. After his return from the latter journey, his constitution being broken by tAe labours and hard 220 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ships of near forty jears, he desisted from travelling, but con tinned to preacn occasionally in London, till within a few days- of his death, which took place January 13, 1691. To Fox, and others among his associates, the praise of zeal^ patience, self-denial, courage, are amply due ; and their suffer- ings, under colour of law, are a disgraceful evidence of the tyranny of the government and the intolerance of the people. But there was one point in Fox's early conduct which justly exposed him to censure and punishment, his frequent interrup- tion of divine worship as performed by others. From thi& practice, in the latter part of his ministry, he seems to have abstained. His moral excellence and the genuineness of his devotion are unquestioned. Penn, a favourable w^itness, but a grave, sober, learned man, not likely to be caught by mere ranting, has left an elaborate tribute to Fox's virtues in the pre- face to Fox's Journal, from which we extract the following de- tached passages: " He had an extraordinary gift in opening the Scriptures, but above all he excelled in prayer. The inwardness and weight of his speech, the reverence and solemnity of his address and behaviour, and the trueness and fulness of his words, have often struck even strangers with admiration. The most awful living reverent frame I ever felt or beheld, I must say, was his in prayer. * * * He was of an innocent life, no busy-body, nor self-seeker, * * * a most merciful man, as ready to forgive, as unapt to give or take an offence, * * * an incessant labourer ; as unwearied, so undaunted in his services for God and his peo- ple ; he was no more to be moved to fear than to wrath, * * * civil beyond all forms of breeding, very temperate, eating little, and sleeping less, though a bulky person." Fox's writings were for the most part short, they are very numerous, and in the collective edition fill three volumes folio. INCREASE MATHER. INCREASE MATHER HIS distinguished divine was the fourth son of Richard Mather, a distinguished non-conform- ing preacher, of Lancaster, England, who emi- o-rated to Massachusetts in 1635. The son gra- duated at Harvard college in 1656, and became pastor of the North church at Boston in 1661. As early as 1681, he was invited to the presi- dency of the college ; but, as his congregation refused to part with him, the honour was confer- red upon Rogers. The new president died in 1684, and Mather was again elected. He accepted the office on condition of being permitted to comply, to a reasonable extent, with the requisitions of his con- gregation. He preached to them on Sundays without interfering with his collegiate duties, or even with the time which he devoted to the production of his volumi- nous works. His reputation for learning and integrity brought him into the notice of the colonial government, by which he was employed in several important and delicate duties. When Charles II. endeavoured to wrest the charter from Massachusetts, Mather used his influence to dissuade the peo- ple from complying with the royal wish. His great opponent on this subject was Edward Randolph, an individual not at all scrupulous in the choice of means to ruin an adversary. He forged Mather's signature to a letter addressed to Sir Lionel Jenkins, in which were numerous reflections on that nobleman'^ conduct, and praises of Lord Shaftesbury, the infamous Gates, and others. This being a weak as well as a bad effort, Li- onel treated it with contempt. Mather seems to have been ignorant of this affair until some years after ; but then he ex- pressed his conviction to Lionel that the letter had been writ- ten by Randolph. Randolph brought an action against him for t2 222 LIVES OF E-MIXENT CHRISTIANS, defamation. The case was decided for Mather. Randolph, being enraged at this unfortunate turn in his plans, brought a second action ; but, in the mean while, Mather had been ap- pointed by the general assembly to represent their condition in England, and to remonstrate against the arbitrary conduct of Andres. While the writ was still in force against him, he en- tered the vessel (April, 1688) at night, and sailed immediately for London. On arriving at London, Mather immediately procured an interview with James II., and made a statement to him of the grievances of the colony. James promised to redress them ; but the promise was perhaps a mere excuse for delay, originat- ing in the gloomy prospects which then disturbed the English monarch. A better day dawned Avith the accession of William and Mary. Mather was received favourably by the new sove- reigns; and soon after all the New England colonies petitioned for the restoration of their charters. The situation of affairs on the continent having obliged William to visit Holland, the consideration of these petitions was postponed. But Mather and the other colonial agents were indefatigable in their exer- tions for liberty. The language of Mather, during an inter- view with William on the 29th of April, 1691, is worthy of pre- servation by the side of the writings of our revolutionary fa- thers and the stirring appei-ls of the Continental Congress. "Your subjects," Mather exclaimed, "have been willing to venture their lives to enlarge your dominions. The expedition to Canada was a great and noble undertaking. May it please your majesty, in your great wisdom, also to consider the cir- cumstances of that people as you have considered the circum stances of England and Scotland. In New England they dif- fer from other plantations ; they are called Congregational and Presbyterian ; so that such a government will not suit with the people of New England, as may be proper for people in the other plantations." x\t length the new charter was granted. On its arrival, the general court appointed a day of thanksgiving, in which "his excellency, the governor, and the Reverend Mr. Increase Mather" were particularly distinguished. But Mather still found ene- mies in the colony. The charter had been granted under some restrictions. These were resolutely decried by some influential INCRE.ISE MATHER. 22it persons; and, as is usual in such case, a large portion of the blame was laid upon the commissioners. Some of Mather's old friends forsook him ; and his letters of this period contain many bitter reflections on the ingratitude of those whom he had laboured to serve. On the other hand, he received many testimonials of respect from honourable sources. His London friends were numerous and respectable. Lord Somers and other noblemen tendered him their friendship ; and, as a minis- ter, he was, with but slight exceptions, universally esteemed. The history of his controversies, principally concerning state matters, which he carried on at this time, would be tedious. Sometimes he was disposed to overrate the good he had done; but it must be recorded to his honour, that few, at that age, did as much as he did for colonial liberty, or acted with purer motives. Dr. Mather has usually been considered as the father of the New England churches. His name and character, together with those of his son, were long regarded with the highest veneration; and collections of his writings, together with me- moirs of his life, have been made by several men, some of them of no inconsiderable talent. At' his death, August 28, 1723, aged eighty-five, discourses were delivered, and afterwards widely circulated, by a number of eloquent men. His publica- tions w^ere numerous. In an octavo volume, entitled "Remark- ables ^n the Life of Dr. Increase Mather," eighty-five are enu- merated, besides '' the learned and useful prefaces which the publishers of many books obtained from him as a beautifuJ porch unto them, and which collected would make a considera- ble volume. * 224 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. COTTON MATHER. OTTON MATHER, the eldest son of Dr. Increase Mather, inherited his father's passion for learning, became, as his father had been, the most distinguished divine then in New England, and is considered superior to In- crease in knowledge of general literature. In his mental constitution there was one great defect : although both his memory and his im- Lgination were powerful, his judgment was weak ; id to this is to be ascribed most of the errors of his life. The accounts which we have concerning his actions and writings are much more confused and Dntradictory than might be expected from the dis- iguished part which both he and his father played in events of our earlier history. Cotton Mather was born at Boston in 1622. He was educated at Harvard College, where he graduated in 1678, and in May, 1684, was ordained colleague with his father. His reputation as a scholar soon attracted the notice of foreign universities. That of Glasgow created him doctor of divinity ; the Royal Society of London elected him one of its fellows. He is also styled a fellow of Harvard College, and was twice a candidate for the presidential chair. At the first time, in 1707, he was defeated through the influence of Governor Dudley, who persuaded a friend to accept it ; and again, in 1726, by the corporation. On this occasion the people were favourable to Mather; and, on account of the feeling evinced on the subject, two prominent men to whom it was first offered declined. Mather possessed less influence in public afi'airs than his father had ; nor was he so much revered by either pastors or people. One cause of this was, his inclination to wit and levity. His COTTON MATHER. 22h yauity was a little too great, his love of punning greater still , and his disposition, or rather passion for social merriment, greater than all. His book knowledge was very extensive, yet he was ignorant of human nature. He w^^ote too much to write well. It has been said that in a forenoon he could read a folio of several hundred pages, and then write a sermon. His mind was rather intuitive than studious; and his memory was so great as to be the wonder and admiration of his age. Notwith- standing his literary studies and his active pursuits, he never neglected his parochial duties or his private devotions. Dr. Mather died February 13, 1728. A large procession followed his remains to the grave. "After his relatives, pro- ceeded the lieutenant-governor, Mr. Dummer, his majesty's council and house of representatives, a large train of ministers, justices, merchants, scholars, and other principal inhabitants both of men and women. The streets were crowded Avith people, and the windows filled with sorrow^ful spectators all the way to the burying-place." The obituary of the Boston Newsletter de- scribes him as "tlie principal ornament of his country, and the greatest scholar that was ever bred in it. Besides his universal learning, his exalted piety and extensive charity, his entertaining wit and singular goodness of temper, recommended him to all who were judges of real and distinguished merit." Mather how^ever was not without his enemies, some of whom loaded him with the keenest and coarsest abuse. His works number three hundred and eighty-two — tracts, histories, biographical sketches, &c. In one year he preached seventy-two sermons, kept sixty fasts and twenty vigils, and wrote fourteen books. His principal work is an Ecclesiastical History of New England, from 1625 to 1698, in seven books folio. Each of his writings is a most singular mixture of benevolence, piety, erudition, his- tory, criticism, credulity, pedantry, and eccentricity. He was long considered the greatest scholar that New England had produced. 29 (26 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JOHN BUNYAN AS born in the village of Elstow, near Bed- ford, in 1628. His father was a poor tinker; but he managed to place his son at the vil- lage school, where he learned to read and write. When quite young, he was thrown among the vulgar and profane, and soon, as he himself informs us in his Grace Abound- ing, became the ringleader in all manner of lying, vice, and ungodliness. Yet, at the early age of ten or twelve years, an inward monitor warned him of the consequences of sin : " I was )ften much cast down and afflicted; yea, T was often then so overcome with despair of life and hea- ven, that I should often wish either that there had been no hell, or that I had been a devil, supposing that they were only tormentors ; that if it must needs be that I went thither, I might be rather a tormentor than tor- mented myself." Here we see the germ of that powerful ima- gination, excited by the first workings of conscience, which Bunyan subsequently personified by the man with a heavy bur- den on his back, crying, " What shall I do ?" As he became older, his conscience hardened, and he found more peace. The desire of heaven and fear of hell left him ; he mingled in wicked company; he was wild, boisterous, reckless. Yet it would be unfair to consider his subsequent denunciations of his life at this early period as proof that he was indeed the worst youth in his neighbourhood, or of his age. In proportion as Bunyan became humbled by the grace of God, he magnified his early crimes ; and he must be ignorant of true Christian feeling while under conviction for sin, to suppose that Bunyan's confessions in the Grace Abounding are to be taken literally as a comparison of himself with others. He was no drunkard, lOHN BUNYAN. 227 nor did his worst acts at that time bring him under cognisance of the magistrate. When seventeen, Bunyan entered the parliamentary army. When he was about marching to the siege of Leicester, one of the company volunteered to go in his stead. Bunyan con- sented. The man was shot as he stood sentinel ; and long after, Bunyan delighted to dwell upon this interposition of Provi- dence in his behalf. Soon after he left the army; and at the early age of nineteen, he married. The financial condition of the tinker at this time may be inferred from his assertion, that they had not a dish or a spoon between them. Yet the mar- riage was undoubtedly a blessing. His wife's dowry was two religious books ; these Bunyan sometimes read to her, and the impression upon his feelings was favourable. He became regu- lar in his attendance at church, and learned to adore the " high place, priest, clerk, and vestment ;" but he did not abandon the practice of swearing, until reproved by a woman, herself bad, who protested that his oaths, which made her tremble, were ca- pable of spoiling all the youth in the town. Bunyan was put to shame, and swore no more. About the same time, he was influenced by a poor, but pious man, to read the Bible, the re- sult of which was an outward conversion, which astonished all who knew him. It was only outward. " I thought," he says, <'no man in England could serve God better than I." From this self-righteous delusion, Bunyan was awakened by overhearing a conversation, on the power of real religion, among some poor women, who belonged to a Baptist denomination at Bedford. He also formed acquaintance with John Gilford, whose conversation was '< sweet and pleasant to him." He now became alarmed as to his condition ; he earnestly besought God for a new heart; he read the Bible with "new eyes;" and at last he was led to abandon his outward religion and cast him- self upon the mercy of God. But he had long and terrible conflicts to pass through. For more than a year, he was " tossed between the devil and his own ignorance," harassed with doubts about Scripture, conjectures concerning practical religion, and horrible phantoms of his imagination. An interview with the village pastor brought no relief; and for a long period Bunyan was subject to those fearful temptations, which made him be- lieve that he saw both worlds revealed before him — one of which. 228 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. the beautiful one, he was never to enjoy, while to the other he was rushing headlong. Just as he was beginning to emerge from this condition, an old translation of Luther's Commentary on the Epis- tle to the Galatians fell into his hands. In this he found his re- ligious experience so "largely and profoundly handled," that it seemed as though the book .had been '' written out of his own heart." He ever prized it next to the Bible, and for a while his spirit received consolation. Then came a dark and terrible temp- tation. During a whole year, he was haunted with a desire to sell Christ — " to exchange him for the things of this life — for any thing." It haunted him day and night; it was Avhispered to him, as he walked through the streets, or sat at table ; he trembled and wrestled, and cried out under it, as his own Chris- tian did, during the conjflict with Apollyon. Bunyan attributes this temptation to the immediate agency of the devil, and de- scribes the assaults to which he was exposed from the enemy of souls, with a vividness of language Avhich sometimes causes the reader to shudder. This state of mind led him to search the Scriptures w^ith more diligence, to "see more into the nature of the promises." But so violent had been the struggle, that, on escaping from it, his health was impaired, and he began to exhibit symptoms bordering on consumption. But peace was gradually restored to his mind ; and with it health returned. In 1653, Bunyan became a member of the Baptist church in Bedford. He had already attracted attention ; so that on join- ing the congregation, he was employed occasionally in exhort- ing or teaching, and in a short time was appointed itinerant preacher. In 1657, he was indicted for preaching at Eaton ; but the proceedings against him appear to have been arrested. The character of Bunyan's preaching, we may gather from his own words : " It pleased me much, to contend with great earn- estness for the word of faith, and the remission of sins by the death and sufferings of Jesus ; but as to other things, I would let them alone, because I saw they engendered strife." How admirably, in these words, is foreshadowed the spirit which per- vades the Pilgrim's Progress. His Christian meekness could not screen him, however, from persecution. In that age of bi- gotry and of wickedness, John Bunyan was regarded as a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman, a libertine. In 1660, a warrant was issued against him, and after being brought before a justice JOHN BUNYAN. 229 in Bedfordshire, he was offered a discharge on condition of leaving off preaching. On refusing, he was committed to jail. Seven wrecks after, he was brought before judges for examina- tion ; accusfd of neglecting the true church, and being pos- sessed with the devil ; and, without either trial or verdict from jury, sentenced to three months' imprisonment, " and at the three months' end," said the judge, " if you do not submit to go to church to hear divine service, and leave your preaching, you must be banished the realm ; and if you be found to come over again, without special license from the king, you must be stretched by the neck for it, I tell you plainly." Bunyan an- swered, that if he were out of prison to-day, he would preach the gospel again to-morrow, by the help of God. On the king's coronation, in 1661, a general pardon w^as proclaimed ; but in this Bunyan was not included. His wife made efforts to obtain his release before Judges Hale, Twisden, and others ; but though the former was disposed to clemency, he was over- ruled by his hardened associates, and Bunyan remained in jail. The jailer was, however, a compassionate man, and allowed his prisoner to depart occasionally through the day, on promise of returning at night. These opportunities he employed in preach- ing ; but of this his persecutors soon obtained information, and the jailer was notified to keep him close, or to leave his situa- tion. It is believed that he remained a close prisoner from 1661 to 1668. During this time, he laboured at making little articles for the support of his family. By the Act of Indul- gence to Dissenters, he was liberated for a short time ; but again incurring the persecution of the hierarchy, he was re- manded to prison, where he remained until 1672. It was du- ring this long period of confinement, that he wrote some of his most celebrated works — <' Of Prayer by the Spirit," " The Holy City's Resurrection," "Grace Abounding," "A De- fence of the Doctrine of Justification," — and one other, '' The Pilgrim's Progress, Part I." Of this great work — one which has no superior, and few equals in our language — so much is known by every class of readers, that it were superfluous to describe or analyze it. It is dated from prison, November 21, 1671, but the date of the first edition is unknown. The second edition was issued in 1678, after which one edition after another was rapidly called 230 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. for. At the same time counterfeit ones appeared, and imita- tions, purporting to be continuations. It was probably from these, that Bunyan received the idea of writing his second part, which appeared in 1684. Long before this, Bunyan had obtained his release, and entered upon the enjoyment of that long season of almost uninterrupted happiness with which his latter days were blessed. In 1672, his congregation observed a day of thanksgiving on account of his release. Shortly after, the voluntary contributions of his friends enabled him to build a meeting-house. Here he preached to large congregations with but little interruption. Scholars from college and con- ceited churchmen often came to argue with him, supposing that he was but an ignorant rustic ; but they generally went away with far different opinions. In London, his reputation was so great, that, says one, <' if but a day's notice were given, the meeting-house in Southwark, where he generally preached, would not hold half the people that attended. Three thousand persons have been gathered together for the purpose, in a re- mote part of the town ; and no fewer than twelve hundred on a dark winter's morning, at seven o'clock, even on week days." The Baptist congregation at Hitchin, in Hertfordshire, is sup- posed to have been founded by him. In a wood, near Preston, he frequently preached to a thousand people ; and five miles from Hitchin was a malt-house, in which he sometimes ad- dressed large congregations, and whose pulpit was carefully re- moved as an honoured relic, when, in 1787, the meeting was transferred to Coleman's Green. So eager was he to dispense the word of life, that it is affirmed, on good authority, he some- times passed at midnight through the town of Reading, dis- guised as a carter, Avith whip in hand, until he arrived at the secret meetings of his friends. The house in which the Bap- tists met for worship stood in a lane ; a bridge was thrown from the back door across a branch of the Kennett, by which, in case of alarm, they might escape. It was while visiting this place, that Bunyan contracted the disease which terminated his life. A young man, having incurred his father's displeasure, was threatened with loss of his inheritance. He implored Bunyan to act as his mediator. Bunyan complied, and was successful ; but his kindness to another proved fatal to himself While returning to London on horseback, he was overtaken wit^^ JOHN BUNYAN. i>31 heavy rains, which brought on cold, and a fever. Thu violence of the attack baffled his physician's skill ; and ten days after, August 12, 1688, he died at the house of Mr. Stradwick, a grocer on Snowhill. He was buried at Bunhill Fields, where a tomb has since been erected to his memory. Bunyan is described as being in " countenance of a stern and rough temper," but in his conversation mild and affa- ble, " not given to loquacity or much discourse in company, unless some urgent occasion required it ; observing never to boast of himself or his parts, but rather to seem low in his own eyes, and submit himself to the judgment of others, loving to reconcile differences and make friendship with all. He had a sharp, quick eye, accompanied with an excellent discerning of persons, being of good judgment and quick wit. As for his person, he was tall of stature, strong boned, though not corpu- lent ; somewhat of a ruddy face, with sparkling eyes ; wearing his hair on his upper lip, after the old British fashion ; his hair reddish, but, in his latter days, time had sprinkled it with gray ; his nose well set, but not declining or bending, and his moutli moderately large ; his forehead somewhat high ; and his habit always plain and modest." Bunyan married twice, and had many children, only four of whom survived him. His works are numer- ous, and as an instructor of the people he deserves to rank among the most powerful writers of his age. Perhaps, his most im- portant work, next to the Pilgrim's Progress and Grace Abound- ing, is The Holy War, an allegory in which he describes the conflict between God and Satan for the town of Mansoul. His great allegory has been translated into nearly all the lan- guages of Europe, and of countries much frequented by Euro- peans, and is adopted as a standard church-book by the various denominations of Protestants, as well as by Roman Catholics. It is in an especial degree the book of the common people ; and, with the Bible, and a volume of Hymns or the Prayer Book, forms a fountain of pure English, for which it were vain to look elsewhere in the same number of pages. 232 LIVES OF EMINENT CillllSTIANS. EICHARD BAXTER. AXTER, the renowned nonconformist divine, was born at Rowdon, a small village in Shrop- shire, on the 12th November, 1615. He re- sided until 1625 at Eaton Constantine's, five miles from Shrewsbmy. The contiguity of his birth-place to the seat of Lord Newport was probably the means of introducing him to the notice of that nobleman. His father's little property was so much encumbered as to prevent him from giving his son any education beyond what could be obtained from the .village schoolmasters, who were neither competent teachers nor moral men. To Mr. John Owen, who kept the- free grammar school at Wroxeter, Baxter acknowledges some obli- gations. Though he was at the head of the school, his attainments were very inconsiderable when he left it. His ambition was to enter one of the universities, to qualify himself for the ministry. Mr. Owen, his master, probably perceiving that he required more regular instruction than he could expect to receive from a college tutor, recommended him to Mr. Richard Wickstead, chaplain to the council at Ludlow, who had an allowance from government for a divinity student. Though the defects of his previous education were but ill sup- plied by this arrangement, his tutor being negligent, it gave him access to a good library, where he acquired a taste for those studies which he pursued with such indefatigable industry in after-life. Here he continued one year and a half, when he returned to his father's house, and supplied for a few months the place of his old master at Wroxeter grammar school. Finding his hopes of going to the university disappointed, he resumed his professional studies under Mr. Francis Garbet, a clergyman of some celebrity, who conducted him through a RICHARD BAXTER. 233 course of theology, and gave him much valuable assistance in his general reading. While he was thus engaged, he was sud- denly diverted from his pursuits by a proposition from his friend, Mr. Wickstead, to try his fortune at the court of his sovereign, Charles I. The project, singular as it was, seems not to have been unpalatable either to his father or the future Puritan divine. Theology was thrown aside, and Baxter went to Whitehall, spe- cially introduced to Sir Henry Herbert, master of the revels, as an aspirant to royal favour. His reception was courteous, nay even kind. For one month he mingled in the festivities of the palace, — a period which was sufficient to convince him of the unsuitableness of such a mode of life to his tastes, his habits, and his conscience, — he then returned home, and re- sumed his studies with a firm determination never again to be diverted from them. Before he went to London, his religious impressions were deepened by the perusal of Bunny's Resolu- tion^ Sibb's Bruised Meed, and other works of the same kind. Some books which he read after his return increased that habitual seriousness natural to him, and which was probably strengthened by the example of his father. A protracted ill- ness, probably, under which he now suffered, completed the preparation of his mind for the reception of those impressions of religious duty under which he acted during the remainder of his life. While he was in this declining state of health, his anxiety tc commence his ministerial labours overcame every other con- sideration. He applied to the Bishop of Worcester for ordina- tion, and obtained it, together with a schoolmaster's license, for he had accepted the mastership of the free grammar school at Dudley, just tnen founded by his friend, Mr. Foley, of Stour- bridge. He was now twenty-three years of age, and as yet entertained no scruples on the subject of conformity, not hav- ing examined with any nicety the grounds of subscription. His attention was soon draAvn to the debatable points of the controversy ; at first the bitter tone of the nonconformists gave him an unfavourable impression of their character, although he admired their fervent piety and their energetic efforts to stem the moral corruptions of their times. At the end of nine months, Baxter removed from Dudley to Bridgenorth, where he acted as assistant to the clergyman. 80 D 2 «{a4 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. This release from school engagements must, to a mind such as Baxter's, intent upon pastoral duties, have appeared a sufficient inducement for the change ; but in the then state of his mind, it was of still greater moment to him to be relieved from the prospect of having to renew his subscription. Here he expected to perform the humble duties of a curate without obstruction. But his hopes were soon frustrated by the ^'et cetera oath^'" as it was called, by which all who had taken orders were called upon to swear never to consent to any alteration in the cere- monial, or government of the church by archbishops, bishops, deans, archdeacons, &c. It does not appear that Baxter thought it necessary to observe the terms of this oath, for a complaint was laid against him for noncompliance with the ritual in various particulars. Baxter left Bridgenorth in 1640, on an invitation of the parishioners of Kidderminster to become the officiating minister at their parish church. The circumstances under which he settled at Kidderminster were favourable to his views ; but it Avas not without considerable opposition from one portion of the community, whose vices he publicly reproved, that he carried some of his reforms into effect. Not satisfied with correcting the more flagrant offences of the inhabitants, he visited them at their houses, became acquainted with their families, gave them religious instruction in private, and became their friend as well as their pastor. Though a strict disciplinarian, he won the hearts of all, except a few who were irreclaimable. His preaching was acceptable to all ranks. Wherever he went, large audiences attended him; and his energy was so unreraU- ting, that notwithstanding his feeble health, he preached three or four times in the week. Dui'ing the civil wars, which at the time prevailed, Baxtei' held a position by which he was connected with both the oppo- site parties in the state, and yet was the partisan of neither. His 'ittachment to monarchy was well known, though his ad- herence to the royalist party was not so certain : for the deep stream of his religious feelings drew his sympathies to the par- liamentarians, whose every-day conversations were imbued with the same feeling. The undisguised respect paid by him to the characters of some of the parliamentarians made him, with otliers, the object of jealousy and persecution. A clamour was RICHARD BAXTER. 235 raised against him, and the rabble, whose excesses had been checked by him, were eager to become the trumpeters of the charge. During one of these ebullitions of party excitement, he spent a few days among the parliamentary army, and was preaching within sound of the cannon while the battle was fought at Edgehill. His friends did not consider it safe for him to return to Kidderminster, and he retired to Coventry, where he resided two years, preaching regularly to the parlia- mentary garrison and to the inhabitants. After the battle of Naseby, in 1645, he passed a night on a visit to some friends, in Cromwell's army, and was offered the chaplaincy of CoL Whalley's regiment, which, after consulting his Coventry friends, he accepted. In this capacity he was present at the capture of Bridgewater, and the sieges of Exeter, Bristol, and Worcester. He lost no opportunity of moderating the temper of the champions of the commonwealth, and of restraining them within the bounds of reason ; but as it was known that the check proceeded from one who was unfriendly to the ulterior objects of the party, his interference w^as coolly received. Among the soldiers he laboured with unceasing zeal to diffuse a better spirit, and to correct those sectarian errors, as he considered them — anabap- tism, antinomianism, and separatism inclusive — which, in his view, were so productive of disputes and animosity. Illness compelled him to leave the army. After his recovery, he was to be found again at Kidderminster, exerting himself, with renewed vigour, to moderate conflicting opinions. At this time the class of men of whom Baxter may be said to be the type, were much perplexed by the conduct of Cromwell. For the sake of peace, however, they submitted to an authority which they deemed a usurpation ; but nothing could purchase their approbation of the means by which it had been attained, or by which it was supported. In open conference, Baxter did not scruple to denounce Cromwell and his adherents as guilty of treason and rebellion, though he afterwards doubted if he was right in so strongly opposing him. The reputation of Baxter was so great, that his countenance to the new order of things was highly desirable, and no pains were spared to obtain it. At the persuasion of some of his noble friends, he o?ice preached before the Protector, who afterwards invited him to in interview, and endeavoured to reconcile him to the political 236 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. changes that had taken phice ; but the preacher was not con- vinced by his arguments, and boldly told him that "the honest people of the land took their ancient monarchy to be a blessing, not an evil." The necessity of any alteration in the govern- ment did not come within the scope of his view. He looked with a single eye to the diffusion of a deeper spirit of religion by means of a purified church, beyond which he was not capable of carrying his views or lending his sanction. In the disputes which prevailed about this time on the subject of episcopal ordination, Baxter took the side of the Presby- terians in denying its necessity. With them he agreed, also, in matters of church government and discipline. He dissented from them in their condemnation of episcopacy as unlawful. On this great principle, namely, the sufficiency of the Scriptures to determine all points of faith and conduct, he wavered for some time ; but ultimately adopted it in its full extent. Occu- pying middle ground, as he did, between Episcopalians and Presbyterians, it was not very obvious with which of the two parties he was to be classed. Had all impositions and restraints been removed, there is strong reason to believe he would have preferred a moderate episcopacy to any other form of church government ; but the measures of the prelatical party were so grievous to the conscience, that he had no choice between sacri- ficing his opinions or quitting their communion. The views maintained by Baxter, blended as they were with the principles of monarchy, made them very popular towards the close of Cromwell's career, when men were beginning to find that they had only exchanged one tyranny for another, and as some thought for a worse. In the sermon which Baxter preached before the parliament the day before they voted the return of the king, he spoke his sentiments on this subject with manly resolution, and maintained, in allusion to the political state of the country, that loyalty to their king was essential to all true Protestants of every persuasion. It was expected that, on the restoration of the king, modera- tion would have prevailed in the councils of the nation, and that a conciliatory policy would be adopted with regard to religious opinions. Some indications of such a spirit appeared in the appointment of Presbyterian divines among the king's chaplains, ai)d Baxter along with the rest. Many who had access to the RICHARD BAXTER. 237 king urged conciliation, and for some time their advice prevailed against the intrigues of court influence. Among other measures, a conference was appointed, consisting of a certain number of Episcopalian and Presbyterian divines, to devise a form of eccle- siastical government which might reconcile the differences and satisfy the scruples of the contending parties. Baxter and the Presbyterians were extremely desirous of bringing this confer- ence to a satisfactory conclusion ; and Baxter himself drew up a reformed liturgy, which, with some alterations, he presented at the conference. The Presbyterians would have accepted Bishop Usher's scheme as a model, with any alterations which might be mutually agreed on ; but the bishops were secretly opposed to the arrangement, and finally frustrated it by carry-- ing a declaration to the effect that, although all were agreed upon the ends contemplated in the commission, they disagreed upon the means. Now began an exercise of power by the bishops ; having defeated the object of the conference, they next sequestrated the livings of all ministers who had been inducted during the protectorate. They then called for oaths and subscriptions, which had been suspended while there was an appearance of agreeing at the conference. In accordance with this demand, a law was passed in 1662, called the Act of Uni- formity, so strict in its requirements upon the debatable points of ceremonial worship, that it had the effect of banishing at once two thousand ministers from the pale of the English church. Of this number was Baxter. Previous to the passing of this measure, he had refused the bishopric of Hereford, and other preferments offered to him by Lord Clarendon, the chancel- lor, asking only one favour in lieu of them — to be allowed to return to Kidderminster : he even oJBfered to perform the pas- toral duties without remuneration ; but this modest request was refused. On the 25th of May, 1662, three months before the day on which the Bartholomew act, as the Act of Uniformity was called, from its coming into operation on St. Bartholomew's day, Bax- ter preached his last sermon in London, under a regular engage- ment in the church ; and finding his public duties at an end, he retired, in July, 1663, to Acton, in Middlesex, where he em- ployed the greater part of his time in writing for the press. Some of his larger works were the fruit of this seclusion. Hia 238 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS two most popular treatises, ' furtherance of every useful pursuit and every benevolent purpose. By the lover of science he is honoured as one of the first and most successful cultivators of experimental philosophy; to the Christian his memory is endeared, as that of one, who, in the most licentious period of English his- tory, showed a rare example of religion and virtue in exalted station, and was an early and zealous pro- moter of the difi"usion of the Scriptures in foreign Jands. Robert Boyle was the youngest son but one of a states- man eminent in the successive reigns of Elizabeth and the first James and Charles, and well known in Ireland by the honoura- ble title of the Great Earl of Cork. He has left an unfinished sketch of his own early life, in which he assumes the name of Philaretus, a lover of virtue ; and speaks of his childhood as characterized by two things, a more than usual inclination to study, and a rigid observance of truth in all things. He was born in Ireland, January 25, 1626-7. In his ninth year he was sent, with his elder brother Francis, to Eton, where he spent between three and four years ; in the early part of which, under the guidance of an able and judicious tutor, he made great progress both in the acquisition of knowledge and in forming habits of accurate and diligent inquiry. But his stu- dies were interrupted by a severe ague ; and while recovering. from that disorder he contracted a habit of desultory reading, which it afterwards cost him some pains to conquer by a labo- Y 254 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. rious course of mathematical calculations. During his abode at Eton, several remarkable escapes from imminent peril oc- curred to him, upon which, in after-life, he looked back with reverential gratitude, and with the full conviction that the direct hand of an overruling Providence was to be traced in them. Towards the close of 1637, as it should seem, his father, who had purchased the manor of Stalbridge, in Dorsetshire, took him home. In October, 1638, he was sent abroad, under the charge of a governor, with his brother Francis. They visited France, Switzerland, and Italy; and Philaretus's narrative of his travels is not without interest. The only incident which we shall mention as occurring during this period, is one which may be thought by many scarcely worthy of notice. Boyle himself used to speak of it as the most considerable accident of his whole life ; and for its influence upon his life it ought not to be omitted. While staying at Geneva, he was waked in the night by a thunder-storm of remarkable violence. Taken unprepared and startled, it struck him that the day of judgment was at hand; "whereupon," to use his own words, "the consideration of his uupreparedness to welcome it, and the hideousness of be- ing surprised by it in an unfit condition, made him resolve and vow, that if his fears that night were disappointed, all further additions to his life should be more religiously and watchfully employed." He has been spoken of as being a skeptic before this sudden conversion. This does not appear from his own account, farther than as any boy of fourteen may be so called, who has never taken the trouble fully to convince himself of those truths which he professes to believe. On the breaking out of the rebellion in 1642, the troubled state of England and the death of the Earl of Cork involved the brothers in consi- derable pecuniary difficulties. They returned to England in 1644, and Robert, after a short delay, took possession of the manor of Stalbridge, which, with a considerable property in Ireland, had been bequeathed to him by his father. By the in- terest of his brother and sister, Lord Broghill and Lady Rane- lagh, who were on good terms with the ruling party, he ob- tained protections for his property, and for the next six years made Stalbridge his principal abode. This portion of his life was chiefly spent in the study of ethical and natural philosophy ; ROBERT BOYLE. 256 and his name began already to be respected among the meii of science of the day. In 1652 he went to Ireland to look after his property, and spent the greater part of the next two years there. Returning to England in 1654, he settled at Oxford. That which espe- cially directed him to this place, besides it being generally suited to the prosecution of all his literary and philosophical pursuits, was the presence of that knot of learned men from whom the Royal Society took its rise. It consisted of a few only, but those eminent ; Bishop Wilkins, Wallis, Ward, Wren, and others, who used to meet for the purpose of conferring upon philosophical subjects, and mutually communicating and reasoning on their respective experiments and discoveries. At the Restoration, Boyle was treated with great respect by the king ; and was strongly pressed to enter the church by Lord Clarendon, who thought that his high birth, eminent learn- ing, and exemplary character might be of material service to the revived establishment. After serious consideration he de- s-»lined the proposal, upon two accounts, as he told Burnet ; first, because he thought that while he performed no ecclesias- tical duties, and received no pay, his testimony in favour of religion would carry more weight ; secondly, because he felt no especial vocation to take holy orders, which he considered in- dispensable to the proper entering into that service. From this time forward, Boyle's life is not much more than the history of his works. It passed in an even current of tran- quil happiness and diligent employment, little broken, except by illness, from which he was a great sufferer. At an early age, he was attacked by the stone, and continued through life subject to paroxysms of that dreadful disease; and in 1670 he \...s afflicted with a severe paralytic complaint, from which he fortunately recovered without sustaining any mental injury. On the incorporation of the Royal Society in 1663, he was named as one of the council in the charter ; and as he had been one of the orio-inal members, so throuo!;h his life he continued to publish his shorter treatises in their Transactions. In 1662 he was appointed by the king Grovernor of the Corporation for propagating the Gospel in New England. The diffusion of Christianity was a favourite subject of exertion with him through life. For the sole purpose of exerting a more effectual influ-^ 256 LIVES OF EMINENT CHBTSTTANS. ence in introducing it into India, he became a director of the East India Company; and, at his own expense, caused the Gos- pels and Acts to be translated into Malay, and five hundred copies to be printed and sent abroad. He also caused a trans- lation of the Bible into Irish to be made and published, at an expense of £700 ; and bore great part of the expense of a similar undertaking in the Welsh language. To other works of the same sort he was a liberal contributor ; and as in speech and writing he was a zealous, yet temperate advocate of reli- gion, so he showed his sincerity by a ready extension of his ample funds to all objects which tended to promote the religious welfare of his fellow-creatures. In the year 1666, he took up his abode in London, where he continued for the remainder of his life. During the years 1689-90, he gradually withdrew himself more and more from his other employments, and from the claims of society, to de- vote himself entirely to the preparation of his papers, ^e k q^q gjj \^[^ other virtues he added a large and diffusive charity ; and whoever compares his plentiful income with the inconsiderable estate he left at his death, will be easily convinced that charity was steward for a great proportion of his revenue. But the hungry that he fed, and the naked that he clothed, and the distressed that he supplied, and the father- less that he provided for, the poor children that he put to apprentice, and brought up at school, and maintained at the university, will now sound a trumpet to that charity which he dispensed with his right hand, but would not suffer his left hand to have any knowledge of it. <' To sum up all in a few words, this great prelate had the good humour of a gentleman, the eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the acuteness of a schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, the wisdom of a counsellor, the sagacity of a prophet, the reason of an angel, and the piety of a saint ; he had devotion enough for a cloister, learning enough for an uni- versity^, and wit enough for a college of virtuosi ; and had his parts and endowments been parcelled out among his poor clergy that he left behind him, it would perhaps have made one of the best dioceses in the world. But, alas ! ' Our Father ! our Father !• the horses of our Israel, and the chariots thereof!' he is gone, and has carried his mantle and his spirit along with him up to heaven ; and the sons of the prophets have lost ill their beauty and lustre which they enjoyed only from the reflection of his excellencies, which were bright and radiant enough to cast a glory upon a whole order of men." SIR MATTHEW HALE. 283 SIR MATTHEW HALE. ATTHEW HALE was born on the 1st of November, 1609, at Alderley, a small village situated in Gloucestershire, about two miles from Wotton-under-Edge. His father, Robert Hale, was a barrister of Lincoln's Inn, and his mother, whose maiden name was Poyntz, belonged to an ancient and respectable family which had resided for several generations at Ton Acton. Hale's father is represented to have been a man of such scrupulous delicacy of conscience, that he abandoned his profession, be- cause he thought that some things, of ordinary practice in the law, were inconsistent with that literal D and precise observance of truth which he conceived to be the duty of a Christian. " He gave over his prac- tice," says Burnet, in his Life of Hale, '^because he <5ould not understand the reason of giving colour in pleadings, which, as he thought, was to tell a lie." Hale had the misfortune to lose both his parents very early in life, his mother dying before he was three years old, and his father before he had attained his fifth year. Under the direc- tion of his father's will he was committed to the care of a near relation, Anthony Kingscote, Esq., of Kingscote in Gloucester- shire. This gentleman, being inclined to the religious doctrines and discipline of the Puritans, placed him in a school belonging to that party; and, intending to educate him for a clergyman, entered him in 1626 at Magdalen Hall, in Oxford. The strict- ness and formality of his early education seem to have inclined him to run into the opposite extreme at the university, when he became to a certain extent his own master. He is said to have been very fond at this time of theatrical amusements, and of fencing, an i other martial exercises ; and giving up the design 2h;4 lives of eminent CHRISTIANS. of becoming a divine, he at one time determined to pass over into the Netherlands, and to enlist as a volunteer in the army of the Prince of Orange. A providential circumstance diverted him from this resolution. He became involved in a lawsuit with a gentleman in Gloucestershire, who laid claim to part of his paternal estate ; and his guardian, being a man of retired habits, was unwilling to undertake the task of personally super • intending the proceedings on his behalf. It became necessary, therefore, that Hale, though then only twenty years old, should leave the university and repair to London, for the purpose of arranging his defence. His professional adviser on this occa- sion was Serjeant Glanville, a learned and distinguished lawyer; who, being struck by the clearness of his young client's under- standing, and by his peculiar aptitude of mind for the study of the law, prevailed upon him to abandon his military project, and to enter himself at one of the Inns of Court, with the view of being called to the bar. He accordingly became a member of the society of Lincoln's Inn in Michaelmas term, 1629, and im- mediately applied himself with unusual assiduity to professional studies. At this period of his life, he is said to have read for several years at the rate of sixteen hours a day. During his residence as a student in Lincoln's Inn, an inci- dent occurred which recalled a certain seriousness of demea- nour, for which he had been remarkable as a boy, and gave birth to that profound piety which in after-life was a marked feature in his character. Being engaged with several other young students at a tavern in the neighbourhood of London, one of his companions drank to such excess that he fell sud- denly from his chair in a kind of fit, and for some time seemed to be dead. After assisting the rest of the party to restore the young man to his senses, in which they at length succeeded, though he still remained in a state of great dangei, Hale, who was deeply impressed with the circumstance, retired into another room, and falling upon his knees prayed earnestly to God that his friend's life might be spared ; and solemnly vowed that he would never again be a party to similar excess, nor encourage intemperance by drinking a health again as long as he lived. His companion recovered, and to the end of life Hale scrupu- lously kept his vow. This was afterwards a source of much inconvenience to him, when the reign of licentiousness com- SIR MATTHEW HALE. 285 aenced, upon the restoration of Charles 11. ; and drinking the king's health to intoxication was considered as one of the tests of loyalty in politics, and of orthodoxy in religion. His rapid proficiency in legal studies not only justified and confirmed the good opinion which had been formed of him by his early friend and patron, Serjeant Glanville, but also intro- duced him to the favourable notice of several of the most dis- tinguished lawyers of that day. Noy, the Attorney-General, who some years afterwards devised the odious scheme of ship- money, and who, while he is called by Lord Clarendon " a vnorose and proud man," is also represented by him as an "able and learned lawyer," took particular notice of Hale, and advised and assisted him in his studies. At this time also he became intimate with Selden, who, though much older than himself, honoured him with his patronage and friendship. He was induced by the advice and example of this great man to extend his reading beyond the contracted sphere of his profes- sional studies, to enlarge and strengthen his reasoning powers by philosophical inquiries, and to store his mind with a variety of general knowledge. The variety of his pursuits at this period of life was remarkable : anatomy, physiology, and divi- nity formed part only of his extensive course of reading ; and by his (Subsequent writings it is made manifest that his know- ledge of these subjects was by no means superficial. The exact period at which Hale was called to the bar is not given by any of his biographers ; and in consequence of the non-arrangement of the earlier records at Lincoln's Inn, it can- not be readily ascertained. It is probable, however, that he commenced the actual practice of his profession about the year 1636. It is plain that he very soon attained considerable repu- tation in it, from his having been employed in most of the cele- brated trials arising out of the troubles consequent on the meet- ing of parliament in 1640. His prudence and political mode- ration, together with his great legal and constitutional know- ledge, pointed him out as a valuable advocate for such of the court party as were brought to public trial. Bishop Burnet says that he was assigned as counsel for Lord Strafi'ord, in 1640. This does not appear from the reports of that trial, nor is it on record that he was expressly assigned as Strafford's counsel by the House of Lords : but he may have been privately retained 586 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. by that nobleman to assist in preparing his defence. In 1643, however, he was expressly appointed by both Houses of Parlia- ment as counsel for Archbishop Laud : and the argument of Mr. Heme, the senior counsel, an elaborate and lucid piece of legal reasoning, is said, but on no certain authority, to have been drawn up by Hale. In 1647, he was appointed one of the counsel for the Eleven members : and he is said to have been afterwards retained for the defence of Charles I. in the High Court of Justice ; but as the king refused to own the jurisdic- tion of the tribunal, his counsel took no public part in the pro- ceedings. He was also retained after the king's death by the Duke of Hamilton, when brought to trial for treason, in taking up arms against the parliament. Burnet mentions other in- stances, but these are enough to prove his high reputation for fidelity and courage, as well as learning. In the year 1643, Hale took the Covenant as prescribed by the parliament, and appeared more than once, with other lay- men, in the Assembly of Divines. In 1651, he took the '< En- gagement to be faithful and true to the Commonwealth without a King and House of Lords," which, as Mr. Justice Foster ob- serves, «' in the sense of those wh'o imposed it, was plainly an engagement for abolishing kingly government, or at least for supporting the abolition of it." In consequence of his compli- ance in this respect, he was allowed to practise at the bar, and was shortly afterwards appointed a member of the, commission for considering of the reformation of tlie law. The precise part taken by Hale in the deliberations of that body cannot now be ascertained ; and indeed there are no records of the mode in which they conducted their inquiries, and, with a few excep- tions, no details of the specific measures of reform introduced by them. A comparison, however, of the machinery of courts of justice during the reign of Charles I., and their practice and general conduct during the Commonwealth, and immediately after the Restoration, will aff*ord convincing proofs that, during the interregnum improvements of great importance were ef- fected ; improvements which must have been devised, matured, and carried into execution by minds of no common wisdom, devoted to tlie subject with extraordinary industry and re- flection. It was unquestionably with the view of restoring a respect Sm MATTHEW HALE. 2§7 for the administration of justice, which had been wholly lost during the reign of Charles I., and giving popularity and moral strength to his own .government, that Cromwell determined to place such men as Hale on the benches of the diiferent courts. Hale, however, had at first many scruples concerning the pro- priety of acting under a commission from a usurper ; and it was not without much hesitation, that he at length yielded to the importunity of Cromwell, and the urgent advice and entrea- ties of his friends ; who, thinking it no small security to the nation to have a man of his integrity and high character on the bench, spared no pains to satisfy his conscientious scruples. He was made a serjeant, and raised to the bench of the Court of Common Pleas in January, 1653—4. Soon after he became a judge, he was returned to Cromwell's first parliament of five months, as one of the knights of the shire for the county of Gloucester, but he does not appear to have taken a very active part in the proceeding.^ of that assem- bly. Burnet says that ''he, with a great many others, came to parliaments, more out of a design to hinder mischief than to do much good." On one occasion, however, he did a service to his country, for which all subsequent generations have reason to be grateful, by opposing the proposition of a party of frantic enthusiasts to destroy the records in the Tower and other de- positories, as remnants of feudality and barbarism. Hale dis- played the folly, injustice, and mischief of this proposition, with such authority and clearness of argument that he carried the opinions of all reasonable members with him ; and in the end, those who had introduced the measure were well satisfied to withdraw it. That his political opinions at this time were not republican, is evident from a motion introduced by him. that the legislative authority should be affirmed to be in the parliament, and an individual with powers limited by the par- liament ; but that the military power should for the present remain with the Protector. He had no seat in the second par- liament of the Protectorate, called in 1656; but when a new parliament was summoned, upon the death of Cromwell, in January, 1658-9, he represented the University of Oxford. His judicial conduct, during the Commonwealth, is repre- sented by contemporaries of all parties as scrupulously just and nobly independent. Several instances are related of his !283 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. resolute refusal to submit the free administration of the law to the arbitrary dictation of the Protector. On one occasion of this kind, which occurred on the circuit, a jury had been packed by express directions from Cromwell. Hale discharged the jury, on discovering this circumstance, and refused to try the cause. When he returned to London, the Protector severely repri- manded him, telling him that " he was not fit to be a judge ;'* to which Hale only replied that "it was very true." It appears that at this period, he, in common with several other judges, had strong objections to being employed by Crom- well as commissioners on the trial of persons taken in open re- sistance to his authority. After the suppression of the feeble and ineffectual rebellion in 1655, in which the unfortunate Colonel Penruddock, with many other gentlemen of rank and distinction, appeared in arms for the. king, in the western coun- ties, a special commission issued for the trial of the offenders at Exeter, in which Hale's name was inserted. He happened to be spending the Lent vacation at his house at Alderley, to which place an express was sent to require his attendance ; but he plainly refused to go, excusing himself on the ground that four terms and two circuits in the year were a sufficient devo- tion of his time to his judicial duties, and that the intervals were already too small for the arrangement of his private affairs ; <' but," says Burnet, " if he had been urged to it, he would not have been afraid of speaking more clearly." He continued to occupy his place as a judge of the Common Pleas until the death of the Protector ; but when a new com- mission from Richard Cromwell was offered to him, he declined to receive it; and, though strongly urged by other judges, as well as his personal friends, to accept the office on patriotic grounds, he firmly adhered to his first resolution, saying that "he could act no longer under such authority." In the year 1660, Hale was again returned by his native county of Gloucester, to serve in the Parliament, or Convention, by which Charles II. was recalled. On the discussion of the means by which this event should be brought about. Hale pro- ])0sed that a committee should be appointed to look into the propositions and concessions offered by Charles I. during the war, particularly at the treaty of Newport, from whence they 7.»ig]it form reasonable conditions to be sent over to the king, SIR MATTHEW HALE. 289 The motion was successfully opposed by Monk, who urged the danger which might arise, in the present state of the army and the nation, if any delay should occur in the immediate settle- ment of the government. " This," says Burnet, " was echoed with such a shout over the House, that the motion was no longer insisted on." It can hardly be doubted that most of the des- tructive errors of the reign of Charles II. would have been spared, if express restrictions ha 1 been imposed upon him be- fore he was permitted to assume the reins of government. On the other hand, it has been justly said, that the time was criti- cal ; that at that precise moment, the army and the nation, equally weary of the scenes of confusion and misrule which had succeeded to Richard Cromwell's abdication, agreed upon the proposed scheme ; but that if delay had been interposed, and if debates had arisen in parliament, the dormant spirit of party would in all probability have been awakened, the opportunity would have been lost, and the Restoration might after all have been prevented. These arguments, when urged by Monk to those who were suffering under a pressing evil, and had only a prospective and contingent danger before them, were plausible and convincing ; but to those in after times who have marked the actual consequences of recalling the king without expressly limiting and defining his authority, as displayed in the misera- ble and disgraceful events of his <■' wicked, turbulent, and san- guinary reign," and in the necessary occurrence of another re- volution within thirty years from the Restoration, it will pro- bably appear that the parliament paid rather too dearly on that occasion for the advantages of an immediate settlement of the nation. Immediately after the restoration of the king, in May, 1660, Lord Clarendon, being appointed Lord Chancellor, sought to give strength and stability to the new government by carefully providing for the due administration of justice. With this view he placed men, distinguished for their learning and high judicial character, upon the benches of the different courts. Among other eminent lawyers, who had forsaken their profes- sion during the latter period of the Commonwealth, he deter- mined to recall Hale from his retirement, and offered him the appointment of Lord Chief Baron. But it was not without great difficulty that Hale was induced to return to the labours 37 2 B 290 LIVES 0P» EMINENT CHRISTIANS. of public lif-e. A curious original paper, containing his "rea sons whj he desired to be spared from any place of public em- ployment," was published some years ago by Mr. Hargrave in the preface to his collection of law tracts. Among these rea- sons, which were stated with the characteristic simplicity of this great man, he urged " the smallness of his estate, being not above £500 per annum, six children unprovided for, and a debt of .£1000 lying upon him ; that he was not so well able to en- dure travel and pains as formerly : that his constitution of body required some ease and relaxation ; and that he had of late time declined the study of the law, and principally applied himself to other studies, now more easy, grateful, and seasona- ble for him." He alludes also to two "infirmities, which make him unfit for that employment, first, an aversion to the pomp and grandeur necessarily incident to it ; and secondly, too much pity, clemency, and tenderness in cases of life, which might prove an unserviceable temper." "But if," he concludes, " after all this, there must be a necessity of undertaking an employment, I desire that it may be in such a court and way as may be most suitable to my course of studies and education, and that it may be the lowest place that may be, to avoid envy. One of his majesty's counsel in ordinary, or, at most, the place of a puisne judge in the Common Pleas, would suit me best." His scruples were, however, eventually overcome, and, on the 7th of November, 1660, he accepted the appointment of Lord Chief Baron ; Lord Clarendon saying, as he delivered his commission to him, that, " if the king could have found an honester and fitter man for that employment, he would not have advanced him to it, and that he had therefore preferred him, because he knew no other who deserved it so well." Shortly afterwards, he reluctantly received the honour of knighthood. The trials of the regicides took place in the October imme- diately preceding his appointment, and his name appears among the commissioners on that occasion. There is, however, no reason to suppose that he was actually present. His name is not mentioned in any of the reports, either as interfering in the proceedings themselves, or assisting at the previous consulta- tions of the judges ; and it can hardly be doubted but that, if he had taken a part in the trials, he would have been included, with Sir Orlando Bridgeman and several others, in the bitter SIR MATTHEW HALE. 291 remarks made by Ludlow on their conduct in this respect. It has been the invariable practice, from very early times to the present day, to include the twelve judges in all commissions of Oyer and Terminer for London and Middlesex ; and as, at the time of the trials in question, only eight judges had been appointed, it is probable that Hale and the other three judges elect were named in the commission, though their patents were not made out till the following term, in order to preserve as nearly as possible the ancient form. Sir Matthew Hale held the office of Lord Chief Baron till the year 1671, and, during that period, greatly raised the cha- racter of the court in which he presided by his unwearied pa- tience and industry, the mildness of his manners, and the in- flexible integrity of his judicial conduct. His impartiality in deciding cases in the Exchequer, where the interests of the crown were concerned, is admitted even by Roger North, who elsewhere charges him with holding "demagogical principles," and with the "foible of leaning towards the popular." "I have heard Lord Guilford say," says this agreeable but partial writer, " that while Hale was Chief Baron of the Exchequer, by means of his great learning, even against his inclination, he did the crown more justice in that court than any others in his place had done w^ith all their good-will and less knowledge." While he was Chief Baron, he was called upon to preside at the trial of two unhappy women who were indicted at the as- sizes at Bury St. Edmunds, in the year 1665, for the crime oC witchcraft. The Chief Baron is reported to have told the jury that " he made no doubt at all that there were such creatures as witches," and the women were found guilty and afterwards executed. The conduct of Hale on this occasion has been the subject of much sarcastic animadversion. It might be said in reply, that the report of the case in the State Trials is of no authority whatever ; but, supposing it to be accurate, it would be unjust and unreasonable to impute to Sir Matthew Hale, as personal superstition or prejudice, a mere participation in the prevailing and almost universal belief of the times in which he lived. The majority of his contemporaries, even among per sons of education and refinement, were firm believers in witch- craft, and, though Lord Guilford rejected this belief, Roger North admits that he dared not to avow b'S infidelity in this 292 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. respect in public, as it would have exposed him to the imputa- tion of irreligion. Numerous instances might be given to show the general prevalence at that time of this stupid and ignorant superstition, and therefore the opinion of Hale on this subject does not appear to be a proof of peculiar weakness or credulity. On the occurrence of the great fire of London, in 1666, an act of parliament passed containing directions and arrange- ments for rebuilding the city. By a clause in this statute, the judges were authorized to sit singly to decide on the amount of compensation due to persons whose premises Avere taken by the corporation in furtherance of the intended improvements. Sir Matthew Hale applied himself with his usual diligence and pa- tience to the discharge of this laborious and extra-judicial duty. "He was," says Baxter, "the great instrument for rebuilding London ; for it was he that was the constant judge, who for nothing followed the work, and, by his prudence and justice, removed a multitude of great impediments." In the year 1671, upon the death of Sir John Kelyng, Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench, Sir Matthew Hale was removed from the Exchequer to succeed him. The particular circumstances which caused his elevation to this laborious and responsible situation, at a time when his growing infirmities in- duced him to seek a total retirement from public life, are not recorded by any of his biographers. For four years after he became Chief Justice, he regularly attended to the duties of his court, and his name appears in all the reported cases in the Court of King's Bench until the close of the year 1675. About that time he was attacked by an inflammation of the diaphragm, a painful and languishing disease, from which he constantly predicted that he should not recover. It produced so entire a prostration of strength, that he was unable to walk up Westminster Hall to his court without being supported by his servants. " He resolved," says Baxter, " that the place should not be a burden to him, nor he to it," and therefore made an earnest application to the Lord Keeper Finch for his dismission. This being delayed for some time, and finding himself totally unequal to the toil of business, he at length, in February, 1676, tendered the surrender of his patent person- ally to the king, who received it graciously and kindly, and promised to continue his pen?-'n during his life. SIR MATTHEW HALE. 293 On his retirement from office, he occupied at first a house at Acton, which he had taken from Richard Baxter, who says " it was one of the meanest houses he had ever lived in. In that house," he adds, "he lived contentedly, without any pomp, and without costly or troublesome retinue of visiters, but not with- out charity to the poor. He continueth the study of mathe- matics and physics still as his great delight. It is not the least of my pleasure that I have lived some years in his more than ordinary love and friendship, and that we are now waiting which shall be first in heaven ; whither, he saith, he is going with full content and acquiescence in the will of a gracious God, and doubts not but we shall shortly live together." Not long before his death, he removed from Acton to his own house at Alderly, intending to die there ; and, having a few days before gone to the parish churchyard and chosen his grave, he sunk under a united attack of asthma and dropsy on Christmas-day, 1676. The judicial character of Sir Matthew Hale was without re- proach. His profound knowledge of the law rendered him an object of universal respect to the profession ; whilst his pa- tience, conciliatory manners, and rigid impartiality engaged the good opinion of all classes of men. As a proof of this, it is said that, as he successively removed from the Court of Com- mon Pleas to the Exchequer, and from thence to the King's Bench, the mass of business always followed him ; so that the court in which he presided was constantly the favourite one with counsel, attorneys, and parties. Perhaps, indeed, no judge has ever been so generally and unobjectionably popular. His address was copious and impressive, but at times slow and em- barrassed. Baxter says *' he was a man of no quick utterance, and often hesitant, but spake with great reason." This account of his mode of speaking is confirmed by Roger North, who adds, however, that " his stop for a word, by the produce al- ways paid for the delay, and on some occasions he would utter sentences heroic." His reputation as a legal and constitutional writer is in no degree inferior to his character as a judge. From the time it was published to the present day, his history of the Pleas of the Crown has always been considered as a book of the highest authority, and is referred to in courts of justice with as great confidence and respect as the formal records of 294 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. judicial opinions. His Treatises on the Jurisdiction of the Lord's House of Parliament and on Maritime Law, which were first published by Mr. Hargrave more than a century after Sir Matthew Hale's death, are w^orks of first-rate excellence as legal arguments, and are invaluable as repositories of the learn- ing of centuries, which the industry and research of the author had collected. After his retirement from public life, he WTote his great work called " The primitive Origination of Mankind, considered and examined according to the light of Nature."" Various opi- nions have been formed upon the merits of this treatise. Roger North depreciates the substance of the book, but commends its style ; while Bishop Burnet and Dr. Birch greatly praise its learning and force of reasoning. Sir Matthew Hale was twice married. By his first wife, who was a daughter of Sir Henry Moore, of Faley in Berkshire, he had ten children, most of whom turned but ill. His second wife, according to Roger North, was ''his own servant-maid;" and Baxter says, '' some made it a scandal, but his wisdom chose it for his convenience, that in his age he married a wo- man of no estate to be to him as a nurse." Hale gives her a high character in his will, as " a most dutiful, faithful, and lov- ing wife," making her one of his executors, and intrusting her with the education of his grand-children. He bequeathed his collection of manuscripts, wdiich he says had cost him much industry and expense, to the Society of Lincoln's Inn, in whose library they are carefully preserved. ISAAC BARROW. 295 ISAAC BARROW. 1630. EW of the divines and philosophers of the seven- teenth century were more eminent than Isaac Barrow. Of the many good and great men whom it is the glory of Trinity College, Cam- bridge, to number as her foster-sons, there is none more good, none, perhaps, after Bacon and Newton, more distinguished than he ; and he has an especial claim to the gratitude of all memb'ers of that splendid foundation as the pro- jector of its unequalled library, as well as a liberal benefactor in other respects. The father of Barrow, a respectable citizen of London, was linen-draper to Charles L, and the son was naturally brought up in royalist principles. The ate of his birth is variously assigned by his biogra- phers, but the more probable account fixes it to October, It is recorded that his childhood was turbulent and quarrelsome ; that he was careless of his clothes, disinclined to study, and especially addicted to fighting and promoting quarrels among his school-fellows ; and of a temper altogether so unpromising, that his father often expressed a wish, that if any of his children should die, it might be his son Isaac. He was first sent to school at the Charter House, and removed thence to Felstead in Essex. Here his disposition seemed to change : he made great progress in learning, and was entered at Trinity College in 1645, in his fifteenth year, it being then usual to send boys to college about that age. He passed his term as an under-graduate with much credit. The time and place were not favourable to the promotion of Roj^alists ; for a royalist master had been ejected to make room for one placed there by the parliament, and the Fellows were chiefly of tl-e same political persuasion. But Barrow's good conduct and Jatcii^jx- 296 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ments won the favour of his suueriors, and in 1649, the year after he took his degree, he was elected Fellow. It deserves to be known, for it is honourable to both parties, that he never disguised or compromised his own principles. His earlier studies were especially turned towards natural philosophy ; and, rejecting the antiquated doctrines then taught in the schools, he selected Bacon, Galileo, and Descartes as his favourite authors. He did not commence the study of mathe- matics until after he had gained his fellowship, and was led to it in a very circuitous way. He was induced to read the Greek astronomers, with a view to solving the difficulties of ancient chronology ; and to understand their works, a thorough know- ledge of geometry was indispensable. He therefore undertook the study of that science ; which suited the bent of his genius 80 well, that he became one of the greatest proficients in it of his age. His first intention was to become a physician, and he made considerable progress in anatomy, chemistry, botany, and other sciences subservient to the profession of medicine ; but he changed his mind, and determined to make divinity his chief pursuit. In 1655 he went abroad. His travels extended through France, Italy, and the Levant, to Constantinople ; and, after an absence of four years, he returned to England through Germany and Holland. During this period he lost no oppor- tunity of prosecuting his studies ; and he sent home several descriptive poems, and some letters, written in Latin, which are printed in his Opuscula, in the fourth volume of the folio edition of his works. In the voyage to Smyrna he gave a proof of the high spirit, which, purified from its childish unruliness and violence, continued to form part of his character through life. The vessel being attacked by an Algerine corsair, Barrow remained on deck, cheerfully and vigorously fighting, until the assailant sheered off. Being asked afterwards why he did not go into the hold and leave the defence of the ship to those whom it concerned, he replied, "It concerned no one more than my- self. I would rather have died than fallen into the hands of those merciless pirates." He has described this voyage, and its eventful circumstances, in a poem contained in his Opuscula. He entered into orders in 1659, and in the following year was made Greek Professor at Cambridge. The numerous offices J phich he was appointed about this time show that his mei-its ISAAC BARROW. 257 were generally and highly esteemed. He was chosen to be Pro- fessor of Geometry at Gresham College in 1662 ; and was one of the first Fellows elected into the Royal Society, after the incorporation of that body by charter in 1663 ; in which year he was also appointed the first mathematical lecturer on the foundation of Mr. Lucas, at Cambridge. Not that he made sinecures of these responsible employments, or thought himself qualified to discharge the duties of all at once ; for he resigned the Greek professorskip, on being appointed Lucasian professor, for reasons explained in his introductory oration, which is extant in the Opuscula. The Gresham professorship he also gave up in 1664, intending thenceforth to reside at Cambridge. Finally, in 1669, he resigned the Lucasian chair to his great successor, jSiewton, intending to devote himself entirely to the study of divinity. Barrow received the degree of D. D. by royal man- date, in 1670 ; and, in 1672, was raised to the mastership of Trinity College by the king, with the compliment, " that he had given it to the best scholar in England." In that high station he distinguished himself by liberality : he remitted seve- ral allowances which his predecessors had required from the col- lege ; he set on foot the scheme for a new library, and contri- buted in purse, and still more by his personal exertions, to its completion. It should be remarked that his patent of appoint- ment being drawn up, as usual, with a permission to marry, he caused that part to be struck out, conceiving it to be at variance with the statutes. He was cut off by a fever in the prime of life, May 4, 1679, aged forty-nine, cuing a visit to London. His remains were honourably deposited in Westminster Abbey, among the worthies of the land ; and in that noble -building a monument was erected to him by the contributions of his frienda. 38 298 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JOHN RAY, AY, whom Haller describes as the greatest botanist in the memory of man, and whose writings on animals are pronounced by Cuvier to be the foundation of all modern zoology, was born on the 29th of November, 1628, at Black Notley, near Braintree, in Essex. His father was a blacksmith, who availed himself of the advantages of a free grammar school at Black Notley to bestow upon his son a liberal education. John was designed for hply orders ; and was accordingly entered at Catherine Hall, Cambridge, in his sixteenth year. He subsequent- ly removed to Trinity, of which college he was elected a fellow in the same year Avith the celebrated Isaac Barrow. In 1651, he was appointed Greek Lec- turer of his college ; and afterwards Mathematical Lec- turer and Humanity Reader. In the midst of his professional occupations Ray appears to have devoted himself to that course of observation of the works of nature, which was afterwards to constitute the business and pleasure of his life, and upon which his enduring reputation was to be built. In 1660, he published his ' Catalogus Plantarum circa Cantabrigiam nascentiam,' which work he states to be the result of ten years of research. He must, therefore, have be- come a naturalist, in the best sense of the word — he must have observed as well as read — at the period when he was struggling for university honours, and obtaining them in com- pany with some of the most eminent persons of his own day. Before the publication of his catalogue, he had visited many parts of England and Wales, for the purpose chiefly of col- lecting their native plants; and his Itineraries, which were first published in 1760, under the title of 'Select Remains of JOHN RAY. 299 the learned John Ray,' show that he was a careful and diligent observer of every matter that could enlarge his understanding and correct his taste. His principal companion in his favourite studies was his friend and pupil, Francis Willughby. In December, 1660, Ray was ordained deacon and priest at the same time. But the chances of preferment in the church of England, which his admirable talents and learning, as well as the purity of his life and the genuine warmth of his piety, would probably have won for him, were at once destroyed by his honest and inflexible resolution not to subscribe to the con- ditions required by the Act of Uniformity of 1662, by which divines were called upon to swear that the oath entitled the Solemn League and Covenant was not binding upon those who had taken it. Ray was in consequence deprived of his fellow- ship. The affection of his pupil, Willughby, relieved him from the embarrassment which might have been a consequence of this misfortune. The two friends from this time appear to have dedicated themselves almost wholly to the study of natural his- tory. They travelled upon the Continent for three years, from 1663 to 1666 ; and during the remainder of Willughby's life, which unfortunately was terminated in 1672, their time was principally occupied in observations which had for their object to examine and to register the various productions of nature, upon some method which should obviate the difiiculty of those arbi- trary and fanciful classifications which had prevailed up to their day. In the preface to his first botanical attempt, the Catalogue of Cambridge Plants, Ray describes the obstacles which he found in the execution of such a work ; — he had no guide to consult, and he had to form a method of arrangement solely by his own sagacity and patience. At that period, as he says in his '-Wis- dom of God in the Creation," ''different colour, or multiplicity of leaves in the flower, and the like accidents, were sufficient to constitute a specific difference." From a conversation with Ray, a short time before his death, Derham has described the object which the two friends had in their agreeable but laborious pursuits. " These two gentlemen, finding the history of nature very imperfect, had agreed between themselves, before their travels beyond sea, to reduce the several tribes of things to a method ; and to give accurate descriptions of the several species, from a strict viqw of them." That Ray entered upon his task^ 800 LIV^ES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. however perplexing it might be, with the enthusiastic energy of a man really it love with his subject, we cannot doubt. "Wil lughby," says Derham, "prosecuted his design with as great application as if he had been to get his bread thereby." The good sense of Ray saw distinctly the right path in such an undertaking. There is a passage in his '* Wisdom of God," which beautifully exhibits his own conception of the proper character of a naturalist : " Let it not suffice us to be book-learned, tu read what others have written, and to take upon trust more falsehood than truth. But let us ourselves examine things as we have opportunity, and converse with nature as well as books. Let us endeavour to promote and increase this knowledge, and make new discoveries ; not so much distrusting our own parts or despairing of our own abilities, as to think that our industry can add nothing to the invention of our ancestors, or correct any of their mistakes. Let us not think that the bounds of science are fixed like Hercules's Pillars, and inscribed with a ne plus ultra. Let us not think w^e have done when we have learnt what they have delivered to us. The treasures of nature are inexhaustible. Here is employment enough for the vastest parts, the most indefatigable industries, the happiest opportu- nities, the most prolix and undisturbed vacancies." It is not difficult to imagine the two friends encouraging each other in their laborious career by sentiments such as these ; which are as worthy to be held in remembrance now that we are reaping the full advantage of their labours, and those of their many illustrious successors, as in the days when natural history was, for the most part, a tissue of extravagant fables and puerile conceits. In 1667 Ray was admitted a Fellow of the Royal Society ; and he executed, about that time, a translation into Latin of his friend Bishop Wilkins's work, on a philosophical and univer- sal language. In 1670 he published the first edition of his <' Catalogue of English Plants ;" and in 1672 appeared his <' Collec- tion of English Proverbs ;" which he probably took up as a relax- ation from his more systematic pursuits. In this year he suf- fered the irreparable loss of his friend Willughby. The history of letters presents us with few more striking examples of the advantages to the world as well as to the individuals themselves, of such a cordial union for a great object. The affection of JOHN RAY. 301 Ray for Willugliby was of the noblest kind. He became the guardian and tutor of his children ; and he prepared his post- humous works for publication, with additions from his own pen, for which he claimed no credit, with a diligence and accuracy which showed that he considered the reputation of his friend as the most sacred of all trusts. In 1673, being in his forty-fifth year, Ray married. Willughby had left him an annuity of ^60. He had three daughters. During the remainder of his long life, which reached to his 77th year, he resided in or near his native village, living contentedly, as a layman, upon very humble means, but indefatigably contributing to the advancement of natural history, and directing the study of it to the highest end, — the proof of the wisdom and goodness of the great Author of nature. The most celebrated of Ray's botanical publications is his "Synopsis Methodica Stirpium Britannicarum." Sir James Smith, in a memoir of Ray, in Rees's Encyclopaedia, declares that of all the systematical and practical Floras of any country, the second edition of Ray's Synopsis is the most perfect. The same writer, in the transactions of the Linnsean Society, vol. iv., says of this Synopsis, "he examined every plant recorded in his work, and even gathered most of them himself. He investigated their synonyms with consummate accuracy ; and if the clearness and precision of other authors had equalled his, he would scarcely have committed an error." Ray's "Methodus Planta- rum Nova," first published in 1682, has been superseded by other systems ; but the accuracy of his observations, the precision of his language, and the clearness of his general views, tended greatly to the advancement of botanical science. His " Historia Plantarum," in three vols, folio, a vast compilation, including all the botanical knowledge of his day, is still in use, as a book of reference, by those who especially devote themselves to this study. The zoological works of Ray have had a more direct and per- manent influence upon the advancement of natural history than his botanical. Among his zoological productions, the best authorities are agreed that we ought to include the greater part of those edited by him as the posthumous works of his friend Willughby. They are conceived upon the same principle as his own History of Plants, and are arranged upon a nearly 2C 302 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. similar plan ; while the style of each is undoubtedly the same. In the original division of their great subject, Ray had chosen the vegetable kingdom, and Willughby the animal; and Ray, therefore, may have felt himself compelled to forego some of his own proper claims, that he might raise a complete monument to the memory of his friend. The Ornithology appeared in 1676 ; the History of Fishes in 1686. Ray, however, prepared seve- ral very important zoological works, of his entire claims to which there can be no doubt. The chief of these are, " Synopsis Me- thodica Animalium Quadrupedum et Serpentini Generis," 1693, which he published during his life ; " Synopsis Methodica Avium," and <' Synopsis Methodica Piscium," edited by Derham, and pub- lished in 1713; and ''Historia Insectorum," printed at the ex- pense of the Royal Society, in 1710. "The peculiar character of the zoological works of Ray," says Cuvier, "consists in clearer and more rigorous methods than those of any of his pre- decessors, and applied with m.ore constancy and precision. The divisions which he has introduced into the classes of quad- rupeds and birds have been followed by the English naturalists, almost to our own day ; and one finds very evident traces of his system of birds in Linnaeus, in Brisson, in Buffon, and in all the authors who are occupied with this class of animals. The Ornithology of Salerne is little more than a translation from the Synopsis ; and Buffon has extracted from Willughby almost all the anatomical part of his History of Birds. Daubenton and Hauy have translated the History of Fishes, in great part, for their Dictionary of Ichthyology, in the 'Encyclopedia M^thodique.' " "The Wisdom of God in the Creation" is the work upon which the popular fame of Ray most deservedly rests. It is a book which perhaps more than any other in our language unites the precision of science to the warmth of devotion. It is delightful to see the ardour with which this good man dedicated himself to the observation of nature, entering into his views of another 3tate of existence, when our knowledge shall be made perfect, and the dim light with which we grope amid the beautiful and wondrous objects by which we are surrounded, shall brighten into complete day. "It is not likely," says he, " that eternal life shall be a torpid and inactive state, or that it shall consist only in an uninterrupted and endless act of love ; the other JOHN RAY. 803 faculties shall be employed as well as the will, in actions suitable to, and perfective of their natures ; especially the understanding, the supreme faculty of the soul, which chiefly diifers in us from brute beasts, and makes us capable of virtue and vice, of rewards and punishments, shall be busied and employed in contemplating the works of God, and observing the divine art and wisdom manifested in the structure and composition of them ; and re- flecting upon their Great Architect the praise and glory due to him. Then shall we clearly see, to our great satisfaction and admiration, the ends and uses of those things which here were either too subtle for us to penetrate and discover, or too remote and unaccessible for us to come to any distinct view of, viz. the planets and fixed stars ; those illustrious bodies, whose contents and inhabitants, whose stores and furniture we have here so longing a desire to know, as also their mutual subservi- ency to each other. Now the mind of man being not capable at once to advert to more than one thing, a particular view and examination of such an innumerable number of vast .bodies, and the great multitude of species both of animate and inanimate beings, which each of them contains, will afl"ord matter enough to exercise and employ our minds, I do not say to all eternity, but to many ages, should we do nothing else."* In addition to his " Wisdom of God," Ray published three <' Physico-Theological Discourses, concerning the Chaos, Deluge, and Dissolution of the World." " This last presents to us," to use the words of Cuvier, " a system of geology as plausible as any of those which had appeared at this epoch, or for a long time afterwards." He also printed a work expressly of a theo- logical character, " A Persuasive to a Holy Life." Ray died on the 17th of January, 1705, at his native place of Black Notley, whither he had retired, at Midsummer, 1679, as he himself expressed, " for the short pittance of time he had yet to live in this world." His memory has been done justice to by his countrymen. A most interesting commemoration of him was held in London, on the 29th of November, 1828, being the two hundredth anniversary of his birth. * «' Wisdom of God in the Creation," p. 199, fifth edition. tt04 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ARCHBISHOP FENELON RANCOIS DE SALIGNAC DE LAMOTHE- FENELON was born August 6, 1651, at the castle of Fenelon, of a noble and ancient family in the province of Perigord. Early proofs of talent and genius induced his uncle, the Marquis de Fenelon, a man of no ordinary merit, to take him under his imme- liate care and superintendence. By him he was placed at the seminary of St. Sulpice, then lately founded in Paris for the purpose of educating young men for the church. The studies of the young abb^ were not encouraged by visions of a stall and mitre. It seems that the object of his earliest ambition was, as a missionary, to carry the blessings of the gospel to the savages of North America, or to the Mohammedans and heretics of Greece and Anatolia. The fears, however, or the hopes of his friends detained him at home, and after his ordination he confined him- self for several years to the duties of the ministry in the parish of St. Sulpice. At the age of twenty-seven he was appointed superior of a society which had for its object the instruction and encourage- ment of female converts to the church of Rome ; and from this time he took up his abode with his uncle. In this house he first became known to Bossuet, by whose recommendation he was intrusted with the conduct of a mission charged with the duty of reclaiming the Protestants in the province of Poitou, in the memorable year 1685, when the Huguenots were writhing under the infliction of the dragonade, employed by the government to irive full eff'ect to the revocation of the edict of Nantes. Fene- 'on had no mind to have dragoons for his coadjutors, and re- ARCHBISHOP FENELON. 305 quested that all show of martial terror might bj removed from the places which he visited. His future proceedings were in strict conformity with this gentle commencement, and conse- quently exposed him to the harassing remonstrances of his superiors. His services in Poitou were not acknowledged by any reward from the government, for Louis XIV. had begun to look coldly upon him ; but it was not his fortune to remain long in obscurity. Among the visitors at his uncle's house, whose friendship he had the happiness to gain, was the Duke de Beauvilliers, a man who could live at the court of Louis without ceasing to live as a Christian. This nobleman was appointed, in the year 1689, governor of the Duke of Burgundy, the grandson of Louis, and heir, after his father the dauphin, to the throne of France. His first act was to appoint Fenelon preceptor to his royal charge, then in his eighth year, and already distinguished for the frightful violence of his passions, his insolent demeanour, and tyrannical spirit. The child had, however, an affectionate heart and a quick sense of shame. Fenelon gained his love and confidence, and used his power to impress upon him the Chris- tian's method of self-government. His headstrong pupil was subdued, not by the fear of man, but by the fear of God. In the task of instruction less difficulty awaited him ; for the young prince was remarkably intelligent and industrious. The pro- gress of a royal student is likely to be rated at his full amount by common fame ; but there is reason to believe that in this case it was rapid and substantial. In 1694 he was presented to the Abbey of St. Yalery, and two years afterwards promoted to the Archbishopric of Cambray, with a command that he should retain his office of preceptor, giving personal attendance only during the three months of absence from h'is diocese which the canons allowed. In resign- ing his abbey, which from conscientious motives he refused to keep with his archbishopric, he was careful to assign such reasons as might not convey an indirect censure of the numerous pluralists among his clerical brethren. Probably this excess of ielicacy, which it is easy to admire and difficult to justify, was hardly requisite in the case of many of the offenders. One of them, the Archbishop of Rheims, when informed of the con scienticus conduct of Fenelon, made the following reply: "M 39 2c 2 506 LI\'ES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. de Cambraj with his sentiments does right in resigning his benefice, and I with mj sentiments do very right in keeping mine." This mode of defence is capable of very general appli- cation, and is in fact very generally used, being good for other cases besides that of pluralities. This preferment was the last mark of royal favour which he received. Louis was never cordially his friend, and there were many at court eager to convert him into an enemy. An oppor- tunity was afibrded by Fenelon's connection with Madame Guyon. It is well known that this lady was the great apostle of the Quietists, a sect of religionists, so called, because they studied to attain a state of perfect contemplation, in which the soul is the passive recipient of divine light. She was especially noted for her doctrine of pure love; she taught that Christian per- fection consisted in a disinterested love of God, excluding the hope of happiness and fear of misery, and that this perfection was attainable by man. Fenelon first became acquainted with her at the house of his friend the Duke de Beauvilliers, and, convinced of the sincerity of her religion, was disposed to regard her more favourably from a notion that her religious opinions, against which a loud clamour had been raised, coincided very nearly with his own. It has been the fashion to represent him as her convert and disciple. The truth is, that he was deeply versed in the writings of the later mystics; men who, with all their extravagance, were perhaps the best representatives of the Christian character to be found among the Roman Catholics of their time. He considered the doctrine of Madame Guyon to be substantially the same with that of his favourite authors ; and whatever appeared exceptionable in her expositions, he attributed to loose and exaggerated expression natural to her sex and character. The approbation of Fenelon gave currency to the fair Quietist among orthodox members of the church. At last the bishops began to take alarm ; the clamour was renewed, and the ex- fimination of her doctrines solemnly intrusted to Bossuet and two other learned divines. Fenelon was avowedly her friend ; yet no one hitherto had breathed a suspicion of any flaw in his orthodoxy. It was even during the examination, and towards the close of it, that he was promoted to the Archbishopric of Cambray. The blow came at length from the hand of his most ARCHBISHOP FENLLON. 30T valued friend. He had been altogether passive in the pro- ceedings respecting Madame Guyon. Bossuet, who had been provoked into vehement wrath, and had resolved to crush her, was sufficiently irritated by this temperate neutrality. But when Fenelon found himself obliged to publish his " Maxims of the Saints," in which, without attacking others, he defends his own views of some of the controverted points, Bossuet, in a tumult of zeal, threw himself at the feet of Louis, denounced his friend as a dangerous fanatic, and besought the king to in- terpose the royal arm between the church and pollution. Fe- nelon offered to submit his book to the judgment of the pope. Permission was granted in very ungracious terms, and presently followed by a sentence of banishment to his diocese. Thi« sudden reverse of fortune, which he received without even whis paring a complaint, served to show the forbearance and meek- ness of his spirit, but it deprived him of none of his powers. An animated controversy arose between him and Bossuet, and all Europe beheld with admiration the boldness and success with which he maintained his ground against the renowned and vete- ran disputant ; and that, too, in the face of fearful discourage- ment. The whole power of the court was arrayed against him, and he stood alone, for his powerful friends had left his side. The Cardinal de Noailles and others, who had in private ex- pressed unqualified approbation of his book, meanly withheld a public acknowledgment of their opinions. While his enemy enjoyed every facility, and had Louis and his courtiers and courtly bishops to cheer him on, it was with difficulty that Fe- nelon could find a printer who would venture to put to the press a work which bore his name. Under these disadvantages, harassed in mind, and with infirm health, he replied to the deliberate and artful attacks of his adversary with a rapidity which, under any circumstances, would have been astonishing. He was now gaining ground daily in public opinion. The pope also, who knew his merit, was very unwilling to condemn. His persecutors were excited to additional efforts. He had already been banished from court ; now he was deprived of the name of preceptor, and of his salary, — of that very salary which some time before he had eagerly offered to resign, in consideration of the embarrassed state of the royal treasury. The flagging Beal of the f 3pe was stimulated by threats conveyed in -iters 308 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. from Louis penned by Bossuet. At length the sentence of con^ demnation was obtained; but in too mild a form to satisfy altogether the courtly party. No bull was issued. A simple brief pronounced certain propositions to be erroneous and dan- gerous, and condemned the book which contained them, without sentencing it in the usual manner to the flames. It is needless to say that Fenelon submitted. He published without delay the sentence of condemnation, noting the selected propositions, and expressing his entire acquiescence in the judg- ment pronounced; and prohibited the faithful in his diocese from reading or having in their possession his own work, which up to that moment he had defended so manfully. Protestants, who are too apt, in judging the conduct of Roman Catholics, to forget every thing but their zeal, have raised an outcry against his meanness and dissimulation. Fenelon was a sincere member of a church which claimed infallibility. We may regret the thraldom in which such a mind was held by an authority from which the Protestant happily is free ; but the censure which falls on him personally for this act is certainly misplaced. The faint hopes which his friends might have cherished, that when the storm had passed he would be restored to favour, were soon extinguished by an event which, while it closed against him for ever the doors of the palace, secured him a place in history, and without which it is probable that he would never have become the subject even of a short memoir. A manuscript which he had intrusted to a servant to copy was treacherously sold by this man to a printer in Paris, who immediately put it to the press, under the title of " Continuation of the Fourth Book of the Odyssey, or Adventures of Telema- chus. Son of Ulysses, with the Boyal Privilege," dated April 6, 1699. It was told at court that the forthcoming work was from the pen of the obnoxious archbishop; and before the im- pression of the first volume was completed, orders were given to suppress it, to punish the printers, and seize the copies already printed. A few however escaped the hands of the police, and were rapidly circulated. One of them, together with a copy of the remaining part of the manuscript, soon after came into the possession of a printer at the Hague, who could publish it without danger. So eager was the curiosity which the violent proceedings of ARCHBISHOP FENELON. 309 the French court had excited, that the press could hardly bo made, with the utmost exertion, to keep pace with the demand. Such is the history of the first appearance of Telemachus. Louis was persuaded to think that the whole book was in- tended to be a satire on him, his court, and government ; and the world was persuaded for a time to think the same. So while the wrath of the king was roused to the uttermost, all Europe was sounding forth the praises of Fenelon. The nume- rous enemies of Louis exulted at the supposed exhibition of hia tyranny and profligate life. The philosophers were charmed with the liberal and enlightened views of civil government ■which they seemed to discover. It is now well known that the anger and the praise were alike undeserved. The book was probably written for the use of the Duke of Burgundy, certainly at a time when Fenelon enjoyed the favour of his sovereign, and was desirous to retain it. He may have forgotten that it was impossible to describe a good and a bad king, a virtuous and a profligate court, without saying much that would bear hard upon Louis and his friends. As for his political enlightenment, it is certain that he had his full share of the monarchical principles of his time and nation. He wished to have good kings, but he made no provision for bad ones. It is diflacult to believe that Louis was seriously alarmed at his notions of political economy. That science was not in a very advanced state; but no one could fear that a prince could be induced by the lessons of his tutor to collect all the artificers of luxury in his capital, and drive ' them in a body into the fields to cultivate potatoes and cabbages, with a belief that he would thus make the country a garden, and the town a seat of the Muses. Nothing was now left to Fenelon but to devote himself to his episcopal duties, which he seems to have discharged with equal zeal and ability. The course of his domestic life, as described by an eye-witness, was retired, and, to a remarkable degree, uniform. Strangers were courteously and hospitably received ; but his society was confined for the most part to the ecclesiastics who resided in his house. Among them were some of his own relations, to whom he was tenderly attached, but for whose pre- ferment, it should be noticed, he never manifested an unbe- coming eagerness. His only recreation was a solitary walk in the fields, where it was his employment, as he observes to a 310 LIVES OF EMINENT C.TRISTl NP. friend, to converse with his God. If in his rambles he fell in with any of the poorer part of his flock; he would sit with them on the grass, and discourse about their temporal as well as their spiritual concerns ; and sometimes he would visit them in their humble sheds, and partake of such refreshment as they offered him. In the beginning of the 18th century we find him engage 1 at once in controversy and politics. The revival of the old dis- pute with the Jansenists, to whom he was strongly opposed, obliged him to take up his pen ; but in using it he never forgot his own maxim, that "rigour and severity are not the spirit of the gospel." For a knowledge of his political labours we are indebted to his biographer, the Cardinal de Bausset, who first published his letters to the Duke de Beauviliiers on the subject of the war which followed the grand alliance in the year 1701. In them he not only considers the general questions of the succession to the Spanish monarchy, the objects of the con- federated powers, and the measures best calculated to avert or soften their hostility, but even enters into details of military operations, discusses the merits of the various generals, stations the different armies, and sketches a plan of the campaign. Towards the close of the war he communicated to the Duke de Chevreuse heads of a very extensive reform in all the depart- ments of government. This reform did not suppose any funda- mental change of the old despotism. It was intended, doubtless, for the consideration of the Duke of Burgundy, to whose suc- cession all France was looking forward with sanguine hopes, founded on the acknowledged excellence of his character, which Fenelon himself had so htippily contributed to form. But among the other trials which visited his latter days, he was destined to mourn the death of his pupil. Fenelon did not long survive the general pacification. After a short illness and intense bodily suff'ering, which he seems to have supported by calling to mind the sufferings of his Saviour, he died February 7th, 1715, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. No money was found in his coffers. The produce of th^ sale of his furniture, together with the arrears of rent due to him, were appropriated, by his direction, to pious and chr itable purposes. The calumnies with which he was assailed during thf '^air ARCHBISHOP JENELON. Sll •of Quietism were remembered only to the disadvantage of theii authors. The public seem eventually to have regarded him as a man who was persecuted because he refused to be a persecutor; who had maintained, at all hazards, what he believed to be the cause of truth and justice; and had resigned his opinion only at that moment when conscience required the sacrifice. Universal homage was paid by his contemporaries to his talents and genius. In the grasp and power of his intellect, and in the extent and completeness of his knowledge, none probably would have ventured to compare him with Bossuet; but in fertility and brilliancy of imagination, in a ready and dexterous use of his materials, and in that quality which his countrymen call esprit^ he was supposed to have no superior. Bossuet himself said of him " II brille d'esprit, il est tout esprit, il en a bien plus que moi." It is obvious that his great work, the Adventures of Telema- chus, was, in the first instance, indebted for some portion of its popularity to circumstances which had no connection with its merits ; but we cannot attribute to the same cause the continued hold which it has maintained on the public favour. Those who are ignorant of the interest which attended its first appearance still feel the charm of that beautiful language which is mad( the vehicle of the purest morality and the most ennobling sen timents. In the many editions through which it passed, between its fir^t publication and the death of the author, Fenelon took no concern. Publicly he neither avowed nor disavowed the work, though he prepared corrections and additions for future editors. All obstacles to its open circulation ivere removed by the death of Louis ; and in the year 1717, the Marquis de Fenelon, his great nephew, presented to Louis XV. a new and correct edition, superintended by himself, from which the text of all subsequent editions has been taken. The best authority for the life of Fenelon accessible to the public is the laborious work of his biographer, the Cardinal de Bausset, which is rendered particularly valuable by the great number of original documents which appear at the end of each volume. Its value would be increased if much of the theological discussion tyere omitted, and the four volumes compressed into three S12 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. WILLIAM PENN. ILLIAM PENN was born in London, Octo- ber 14, 1644. He was the son of a naval officer of the same name, who served with dis- tinction both in the Protectorate and after the Restoration, and who was much esteemed by Charles II. and the Duke of York. At the age of fifteen, he was entered as a gentle- man-commoner at Christ Church, Oxford. He had not been long in residence, when he received, from the preaching of Thomas Loe, his first bias towards the doctrines of the Quakers ; and in con- junction with some fellow-students, he began to withdraw from attendance on the established church, and to hold private prayer-meetings. For this con- duct Penn and his friends were fined by the college for nonconformity; and the former was soon involved in more serious censure by his ill-governed zeal, in consequence of an order from the king, that the ancient custom of wearing surplices should be revived. This seemed to Penn an infringe- ment of the simplicity of Christian worship : whereupon he, with some friends, tore the surplices from the backs of those stu- dents who appeared in them. For this act of violence, totally inconsistent, it is to be observed, with the principles of tolera- tion which regulated his conduct in after-life, he and they were very justly expelled. Admiral Penn, who like most sailors possessed a quick tem- per and high notions of discipline and obedience, was little pleased with this event, and still less satisfied with his son's grave demeanour, and avoidance of the manners and ceremonies of polite life. Arguments failing, he had recourse to blows, and as a last resource, he turned his son out of doors ; but soon relented so far as to equip him, in 1662, for a journey to France, in hope PENN'S TREATY WITH THE INDIANS. WILLIAM PENN. S13 that the gayetj' of that country would expel his new-fashioned and, as he regarded them, fanatical notions. Paris, however, soon became wearisome to William Penn, and he spent a con- siderable time at Saumur, for the sake of the instruction and company of Moses Amyrault, an eminent Protestant divine. Here he confirmed and improved his religious impressions, and at the same time acquired, from the insensible influence of those who surrounded him, an increased polish and courtliness of de- meanour, which greatly gratified the admiral on his return home in 1664. Admiral Penn went to sea in 1664, and remained two years on Service. During this time the external effects of his son's residence in France had worn away, and he had returned to those grave habits, and that rule of associating only with re- ligious people, which had before given his father so much dis- pleasure. To try the effect of absence and change of associates. Admiral Penn sent William to manage his estates in Ireland, a duty which the latter performed with satisfaction both to him- self and his employer. But it chanced that, on a visit to Cork, he again attended the preaching of Thomas Loe, by whose ex- hortations he was deeply impressed. From this time he began to frequent the Quakers' meetings ; and in September, 1667, he was imprisoned, with others, under the persecuting laws which then disgraced our statute book. Upon application to the higher authorities, he was soon released. Upon receiving tidings that William had connected himself with the Quakers, the admiral immediately summoned him to England ; and he soon became certified of the fact, among other peculiarities, by his son's pertinacious adherence to the Quaker's notions concerning what they call Hat Worship. This led him to a violent remonstrance. William Penn behaved with due respect ; but in the main point, that of forsaking his associates and rule of conduct, he yielded nothing. The father confined his demands at last to the simple point, that his son should sit uncovered in the presence of himself, the king, and the Duke of York. Still William Penn felt bound to make not even this concession ; and, on this refusal, the admiral again turned him out of doors. Soon after, in 1668, he began to preach, and in the same year, he published his first work, "Truth Exalted," &c. We 40 2D 814 TJYES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. cannot here notice his very numerous works, of which the titles run, for the most part, to an extraordinary length : but " The Sandy Foundation Shaken," published in the same year, claims notice, as having led to his first public persecution. In it he was induced, not to deny the doctrine of the trinity, which in a certain sense he admitted, but to object to the language in which it is expounded by the English church ; and for this offence he was imprisoned for some time in the Tower. During this con- finement, he composed ^'No Cross, no Crown," one of his prin- cipal and most popular works, of which the leading doctrine, admirably exemplified in his own life, was, that the way to future happiness and glory lies, in this world, not through a course of misery and needless mortification, but still through labour, watchfulness, and self-denial, and continual striving against cor- rupt passions and inordinate indulgences. This is enforced by copious examples from profane as well as sacred history ; and the work gives evidence of an extent of learning very credit- able to its author, considering his youth, and the circumstances under which it was composed. He was detained in prison foi seven months, and treated with much severity. In 1669 he had the satisfaction of being reconciled to his father. William Penn was one of the first sufferers by the passing of the Conventicle Act, in 1670. He was imprisoned in Newgate, and tried for preaching to a seditious and riotous assembly in Gracechurch street ; and this trial is remarkable and celebrated in criminal jurisprudence, for the firmness with which he defended himself, and still more for the admirable courage and constancy with which the jury maintained the verdict of acquittal which they pronounced. He showed on this, and on all other occa- sions, that he well understood and appreciated the free principles of the British constitution, and that he was resolved not to sur- render one iota of that liberty of conscience which he claimed for others, as well as for himself. "I am far from thinking it fit," he said, in addressing the House of Commons, <' because 1 exclaim against the injustice of whipping Quakers for Papists, that Papists should be whipped for their consciences. No, for though the hand pretended to be lifted up against them hath lighted heavily upon us, and we complain, yet we do not mean that any should take a fresh aim at them, or that they should come in our room, for we must give the liberty we ask, and WILLIAM PENN. 315 would have none suifer for a truly sober and conscitLtious dis- sent on any hand." His views of religious toleration and civil liberty he has well and clearly explained in the treatise entitled "England's present Interest, &c.," published in 1674, in which it formed part of his argument that the liberties of Englishmen were anterior to the settlement of the English church, and could not be affected by discrepancies in their religious belief. He maintained that "to live honestly, to do no injury to another, and to give every man his due, was enough to entitle every native to English privileges. It was this, and not his religion, which gave him the great claim to the protection of the govern- ment under which he lived. Near three hundred years before Austin set his foot on English ground, the inhabitants had a good constitution. This came not in with him. Neither did it come in with Luther; nor was it to go out with Calvin. We were a free people by the creation of God, by the redemption of Christ, and by the careful provision of our never-to-be-for- gotten, honourable ancestors : so that our claim to these English privileges, rising higher than Protestantism, could never justly be invalidated on account of nonconformity to any tenet or fashion it might prescribe " In the same year died Sir William Penn, in perfect harmony with his son, towards whom he now felt the most cordial regard and esteem, and to whom he bequeathed an estate computed at 1500Z. a year, a large sum in that age. Towards the end of the year he was again imprisoned in Newgate for six months, the statutable penalty for refusing to take the oath of allegiance, which was maliciously tendered to him by a magistrate. This appears to have been the last absolute persecution for religion's sake which he endured. Religion in England has generally met with more toleration, in proportion as it has been backed by the worldly importance of its professors : and though his poor brethren continued to suffer imprisonment in the stocks, fines, and whipping, as the penalty of their peaceable meetings for Divine worship, the wealthy proprietor, though he travelled largely, both in England and abroad, and laboured both in writing and in preaching, as the missionary of his sect, both escaped injury, and acquired reputation and esteem by his self- devotion. To the favour of the king and the Duke of York he had a hereditary claim, which appears always to have been 3lQ LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. cheerfully acknowledged; and an instance of the rising cons* deration in which he was held, appears in his being admitted to plead, before a committee of the House of Commons, the request of the Quakers that their solemn affirmation should be admitted in the place of an oath. An enactment to this effect passed the Commons in 1678, but was lost, in consequence of a proroga- tion, before it had passed the Lords. It was on this occasion that he made that appeal in behalf of general toleration, of which a part is quoted in the preceding page. Penn married in 1672, and took up his abode at Rickmans- worth, in Hertfordshire. In 1677 we find him removed to Worminghurst, in Sussex, which long continued to be his place of residence. His first engagement in the plantation of America was in 1676 ; in consequence of being chosen arbitrator in a dis- pute between two Quakers, who had become jointly concerned in the colony of New Jersey. Though nowise concerned, by interest or proprietorship, (until 1681, w^hen he purchased a share in the eastern district in New Jersey,) he took great pains in this business ; he arranged terms, upon which colonists were invited to settle; and he drew up the outline of a simple consti- tution, reserving to them the right of making all laws by their representatives, of security from imprisonment or fine except by the consent of twelve men of the neighbourhood, and perfect freedom in the exercise of their religion : "regulations," he said, "by an adherence to which they could never be brought into bondage but by their own consent." In these transactions he had the opportunity of contemplating the glorious results which might be hoped from a colony founded with no interested views, but on the principles of universal peace, toleration, and liberty : and he felt an earnest desire to be the instrument in so great a work, more especially as it held out a prospect of deliverance to his persecuted Quaker brethren in England, by giving them a free and happy asylum in a foreign land. Circumstances fa- voured his wish. The crown was indebted to him 16,000Z. for money advanced by the late admiral for the naval service. It was not unusual to grant not only the property, but the right of government, in large districts in the unclearedpart of America, as in the case of New York and New Jersey respectively to the Duke of York and Lord Baltimore : and though it Avas hopeless to extract money from Charles, yet he was ready enough, in WILLIAM PENN. 317 acquittal of this debt, to bestow on Penn, \^hom he loved, a tract of land from which he himself could never expect any pecuniary return. Accordingly, Penn received, in 1681, a grant by charter of that extensive province, named Pennsylva- nia by Charles himself, in honour of the admiral : by which charter he was invested with tlie property in the soil, with the power of ruling and governing the* same ; of enacting laws, with the advice and approbation of the freemen of the territory as sembled for the raising of money for public uses ; of appointing judges, and administering justice. He immediately drew up and published "some account of Pennsylvania, &c. ;" and then " Certain Conditions or Concessions, &c.," to be agreed on be- tween himself and those who wished to purchase land in the province. These having been accepted by many persons, he proceeded to frame the rough sketch of a constitution, on which he proposed to base the charter of the province. The price fixed on land was forty shillings, with the annual quit-rent of one shilling, for one hundred acres : and it was provided that no one should, in word or deed, affront or w^rong any Indian with- out incurring the same penalty as if the offence had been com- mitted against a felloAV-planter ; that strict precautions should be taken against fraud in the quality of goods sold to them ; and that all differences between the two nations should be adjudged by twelve men, six of each. And he declares his intention " to- leave myself and my successors no power of doing mischief; that the will of one man may not hinder the good of a whole country." This constitution, as originally organized by Penn, consisted, says Mr. Clarkson, " of a Governor, a Council, and an Assem- bly; the two last of which were to be chosen by, and therefore to be the representatives of, the people. The Grovernor was to be perpetual president, but he was to have but a treble vote. It was the office of the Council to prepare and propose bills, to see that the laws were executed, to take care of the peace and safety of the province, to settle the situation of ports, cities, market-towns, roads and other public places, to inspect the public treasury, to erect courts of justice, to institute schools for the virtuous education of youth, and to reward the authors of useful discovery. Not less than two-thirds of these were necessary to make a quorum, and the consent of not less than 2d2 318 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANfc;. two-thirds of such quorum in all matters of moment. The As- sembly were to have no deliberative power, but when bills were brought to them from the governor and council, were to pass or reject them by a plain Yes or No. They were to present sheriffs and justices of the peace to the governor ; a double number, f^r his choice of half. They were to be chosen annu- ally, and to be chosen by se(?ret ballot." This groundwork was modified by Penn himself at later periods, and especially by removing that restriction which forbade the Assembly to debate, or to originate bills : and it was this, substantially, which Burke, in his '< Account of the European Settlements in America," de- scribes as " that noble charter of privileges, by which he made them as free as any people in the world, and which has since drawn such vast numbers of so many different persuasions and Buch various countries to put themselves under the protection of his laws. He made the most perfect freedom, both religious and civil, the basis of his establishment ; and this has done more towards the settling of the province, and towards the set- tling of it in a strong and permanent manner, than the Avisest regulations could have done on any other plan." In 1682, a number of settlers, principally Quakers, having been already sent out, Penn himself embarked for Pennsylvania, leaving his wife and children in England. On occasion of this parting, he addressed to them a long and affectionate letter, which presents a very beautiful picture of his domestic charac- ter, and affords a curious insight into the minute regularity of his daily habits. He landed on the banks of the Delaware in October, and forthwith summoned an assembly of the freemen of the province, by whom the frame of government, as it had been promulgated in England, was accepted. Penn's principles did not suffer him to consider his title to the land as valid, with- out the consent of the natural owners of the soil. He had in- structed persons to negotiate a treaty of sale with the Indian nations before his own departure from England ; and one of his first acts was to hold that memorable assembly, to which the history of the world offers none alike, at which this bargain was ratified, and a strict league of amity established. We do not find specified the exact date of this meeting, which took place under an enormous elm-tree, near the site of Philadelphia, and of which a ^e\\ particulars only have bc^n preserved by the un WILLIAM PENN. 319 certain record of tradition. Well and faithfully was that treaty of friendship kept by the wild denizens of the woods : " a friendship," says Proud, the historian of Pennsylvania, " which for the space of more than seventy years was never inter- rupted, or so long as the Quakers retained power in the govern- ment." Penn remained in America until the middle of 1684. Dur- ing this time much was done towards bringing the colony into prosperity and order. Twenty townships were established, con- taining upwards of seven thousand Europeans ; magistrates Avere appointed ; representatives, as prescribed by the constitu- tion, were chosen, and the necessary public business transacted.. In 1683, Penn undertook a journey of discovery into the inte- rior ; and he has given an interesting account of the country in its wild state, in a letter written home to the Society of Free Traders in Pennsylvania. He held frequent conferences with the Indians, and contracted treaties of friendship with nineteen distinct tribes. His reasons for returning to England appear to have been twofold ; partly the desire to settle a dispute be- tween himself and Lord Baltimore, concerning the boundary of their provinces, but chiefly the hope of being able, by his personal influence, to lighten the sufferings and ameliorate the treatment of the Quakers in England. He reached England in October, 1684. Charles II. died in February, 1685. Btit this was rather favourable to Penn's credit at court ; for besides that James appears to have felt a sincere regard for him, he required for his own church that toleration Avhich Penn wished to see extended to all alike. This credit at court led to the renewal of an old and assuredly most groundless report, that Penn was at heart a Papist — nay, that he was in priest's orders, and a Jesuit : a report which gave him much uneasiness, and which he took much pains in public and in private to contradict. The same credit, and the natural and laudable affection and grati- tude towards the Stuart family, which he never dissembled, caused much trouble to him after the Revolution. He was con- tinually suspected of plotting to restore the exiled dynasty; was four times arrested, and as often discharged in the total absence of all evidence ao-ainst him. Durino^ the vears 1691,. 1692, and part of 1693, he remained in London, living, to avoid offence, in great seclusion : in the latter year he was heard in 320 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. his own defence before the king and council, and informed that he need apprehend no molestation or injury. The affairs of Pennsylvania fell into some confusion during Penn's long absence. Even in the peaceable sect of Quakers there were ambitious, bustling and selfish men ; and Penn was not satisfied with the conduct either of the representative As- sembly, or of those to whom he had delegated his own powers. He changed the latter two or three times, without effecting the restoration of harmony: and these troubles gave a pretext for depriving him of his powers as governor, in 1693. The real cause was probably the suspicion entertained of his treasonable correspondence with James II. But he was reinstated in Au- gust, 1694, by a royal order, in which it was complimentarily expressed that the disorders complained of were produced en- tirely by his absence. Anxious as he was to return, he did not find an opportunity till 1699 : the interval was chiefly employed in religious travel through England and Ireland, and in the labour of controversial writing, from which he seldom had a long respite. His course as a philanthropist on his return to America is honourably marked by an endeavour to ameliorate the condition of Negro slaves. The society of Quakers in Penn- sylvania had already come to a resolution, that the buying, sell- ing, and holding men in slavery was inconsistent with the tenets of the Christian religion : and following up this honourable de- •claration, Penn had no difficulty in obtaining for them free ad- mission into the regular meetings for religious worship, and in procuring that other meetings should be holden for their parti- cular benefit. The Quakers therefore merit our respect as the earliest, as well as some of the most zealous emancipators. Mr. Chirkson says, " When Penn procured the insertion of this resolution m the Monthly Meeting book of Philadelphia, he sealed as assuredly and effectually the abolition of the slave trade, and the emancipation of the negroes within his own pro- vince, as when he procured the insertion of the minute relating to the Indians in the same book, he sealed the civilization of the latter ; for, from the time the subject became incorporated into the discipline of the Quakers, they never lost sight of it. Se- veral of them began to refuse to purchase negroes at all ; and others to emancipate those w^hich they had in their possession, f»,nd this of their own accord, and purely from the motives of WILLIAM PENN. 321 religion ; till at length it became a law ot the society that no member could be concerned, directly or indirectly, either in buying and selling, or in holding them in bondage ; and this law was carried so completely into effect, that in the year 1780, dispersed as the society was over a vast tract of country, there was not a single negro as a slave in the possession of an ac- knowledged Quaker. This example, soon after it had begun, was followed by others of other religious denominations." In labouring to secure kind treatment, to raise the character, and to promote the welfare of the Indians, Penn was active and constant, during this visit to America, as before. The legislative measures which took place while he remained, and the bickerings between the Assembly and himself, we pass over, as belonging rather to a history of Pennsylvania, than to the biography of its founder. For the same reason we omit the charges preferred against him by Dr. Franklin. The union in one person of the rights belonging both to a governor and a proprietor, no doubt is open to objection ; but this cannot be urged as a fault upon Penn ; and we believe that it would be difficult to name any person who has used power and privilege with more disinterested views. That he was indifferent to his powers, or his emoluments, is not to be supposed, and ought not to have been expected. He spent large sums, he bestowed much pains upon the colony : and he felt and stated it to be a great grievance, that, whereas a provision was voted to the royal governor during the period of his own suspension, not so much as a table was kept for himself; and that instead of contribut- ing towards his expenses, even the trivial quit-rents which he had reserved remained unpaid : nay, it was sought by the As- sembly, against all justice, to divert them from him, towards the support of the government. It is to be recollected that Frank- lin wrote for a political object, to overthrow the privileges which Penn's heirs enjoyed. The governor returned to England in 1701, to oppose a scheme agitated in parliament for abolishing the proprietary governments and placing the colonies immediately under royal control : the bill, however, was dropped before he arrived. He enjoyed Anne's favour, as he had that of her father and uncle, and resided much in the neighbourhood of the court, at Ken- sington and Koightsbridge. In his religious labours he conti- 41 822 LIVES OP EMINENT CHRISTIANS. nued constant, as heretofore. He was much harassed by a law- suit, the result of too much confidence in a dishonest steward : which being decided against him, he was obliged for a time to reside within the rules of the Fleet Prison. This, and the ex- penses in which he had been involved by Pennsylvania, reduced him to distress, and in 1T09 he mortgaged the province for £6,600. In 1712, he agreed to sell his rights to the govern- ment for £12,000, but was rendered unable to complete the transaction by three apoplectic fits, which followed each other in quick succession. He survived however in a tranquil and happy state, though with his bodily and mental vigour much broken, until July 30, 1718, on which day he died at his seat at Rushcomb, in Berkshire, where he had resided for some years. His first wife died in 1693. He married a second time in 1696 ; and left a family of children by both wives, to whom he bequeathed his landed property in Europe and America. His rights of government he left in trust to the Earls of Oxford and Powlett, to be disposed of; but no sale being ever made, the government, with the title of proprietaries, devolved on the sur- viving sons of the second family. Penn's numerous works were collected, and a life prefixed to them, in 1726. Select editions of them have been since pub- lished. Mr. Clarkson's "Life," Proud's «< History of Pennsyl- vania," and Franklin's " Historical Review, &c., of Pennsylva- nia," for a view of the exceptions which have been taken to Penn's character as a statesman, may be advantageously con- Bulted. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 323 SAMUEL JOHNSON. AMUEL JOHNSON was born September 18, 1709, in the city of Lichfield, where his father, a man well respected for sense and learning, carried on the trade of a bookseller, and realized an independence, which he after wards lost by an unsuccessful speculation. His mother also possessed a strong under- standing. From these parents Johnson de- rived a powerful body and a mind of uncommon force and compass. Unfortunately both mind Lnd body were tainted by disease : the former, by melancholy, of which he said that it had " made n mad all his life — at least not sober;" the latter, by that scrofulous disorder called the king's evil, for which, in compliance with a popular superstition, re- commended by the Jacobite principles of his family, he was touched by Queen Anne. By this disease he lost the sight of one eye, and the other was considerably injured — a calamity which combined with constitutional indolence to pre- vent his joining in the active sports of his school-fellows. Tardy in the performance of his appointed tasks, he mastered them with rapidity at last, and he early displayed great fond- ness for miscellaneous reading, and a remarkably retentive memory. After passing through several country schools, and spending near two years in a sort of busy idleness at home, he went to Pembroke College, Oxford, about the age of sixteen. There he made himself more remarkable by wit and humour, and negligence of college discipline, than by his labours for university distinction. His translation of Pope's Messiah into Latin hexameters was the only exercise on which he bestowed much pains, or by which he obtained much credit. But his high spirits, unless the recollections of his earlier years were 324 LIVES OF EMINENT CIIRTSTL-^NS. tinctured by. his habitual despondency, were but the cloak of a troubled mind. "Ah! sir," he said to Boswell, '< I was mad and violent. It was bitterness which they mistook for frolic. I was miserably poor, and I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit ; so I disregarded all power and all au- thority." His poverty, during this period, was indeed ex- treme ; and the scanty remittances by which he was supported, in much humiliation and inconvenience, were altogether stopped at last by his father's insolvency. He had the mortification to be compelled to quit Oxford in the autumn of 1731, after three years' residence, without taking a degree ; and his father's death, in the December following, threw him on the world Avith twenty pounds in his pocket. He first attempted to gain a livelihood in the capacity of usher to a school at Market-Bosworth, in Leicestershire. For that laborious and dreary task, he was eminently unfit, except by talent and learning, and he soon quitted a situation which he ever remembered with a degree of aversion amounting to horror. After his marriage, he tried the experiment of keeping a boarding-house near Lichfield, as principal, with little better success. From Bosworth he went to Birmingham, in 1733, where he composed his first work, a translation of the Jesuit Lobo's Voyage to Abyssinia, He gained several kind and use- ful acquaintance in the latter town, among Avhom was Mr. Porter, a mercer, whose widow he married in 1735. She was double his age, and possessed neither beauty, fortune, nor at- tractive manners, yet she inspired him with an affection which endured, unchilled by the trials of poverty, unchanged by her death, even to the end of his own life, as his private records fully testify. She died in 1752. In March, 1737, Johnson set out for the metropolis, in hopes of mending his fortunes, as a man of letters, and especially of bringing on the stage his tragedy of Irene. It was long be- fore his desires were gratified in either respect. Irene was not performed till 1749, when his friend and former pupil, Garrick, had the management of Drury-Lane. Garrick's zeal carried it through nine nights, so that the author, in addition to one hun- dred pounds from Dodsley for the copyright, had the profit of three nights' performance, according to the mode of payment th^n in use. The play, however, though bearing the stamp of SAMUEL JOHNSON. 326 a vigorous and elevated mind, and by no means wanting in poetical merit, was unfit for acting, through its want of pathos and dramatic eifect ; and Johnson, perhaps, perceived his defi- ciency in these qualities, for he never again wrote for the stage. Garrick said of his friend that he had neither the faculty to produce, nor the sensibility to receive the impressions of tra- gedy, and his annotations upon Shakspeare confirm this judg- ment. His first employment, after his arrival in London, was as a frequent contributor to the Gentleman's Magazine, from which, during some years, he derived his chief support. This was a period of labour, poverty, and often of urgent want. Some- times without a lodging, sometimes without a dinner, he became acquainted with the darker pha.ses of a London life ; and, among other singular characters, a similarity of fortunes made him acquainted with the notorious Richard Savage, whom he regarded with afi"ection, and whose life is one of the most pow- erful productions of Johnson's pen. In the thoughts suggested, and the knowledge taught, b}^ this rough collision with the world, we may conjecture his imitation of the third satire of Juvenal, entitled London, to have origi- nated. To the majority of the nation, it was recommended by its strong invectives against the then unpopular ministry of Sir Robert Walpole, as well as by the energy of thought and style, the knowledge of his subject, and the lively painting in which it abounds. It reached a second edition in the course of a week, and Boswell tells us, on contemporary authority, that " the first buz of the literary circles was, ' here is an unknown poet, greater even than Pope.' " Yet this admired poem pro- duced only ten guineas to its author, and appears to have done nothing towards improving his prospects, or giving a commer- cial value to his name. His chief employment was still fur- nished by the Gentleman's Magazine; and. in November, 1740, he undertook to report, or rather to write, the parliamentary debates for that publication. At that time the privileges of Parliament were very strictly interpreted, and the avowed pub- lication of debates would have been rigorously suppressed. Such a summary, however, as could bo preserved in the memory was earned away by persons employed for the purpose, and the task which Johnson undertook was to expand and adorn 2 E 326 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. their imperfect hints from the stores of his own eloquence. In doing which, he took care, as he afterwards acknowledged, that "the Whig dogs should not have the best of it.*' The speeches, of course, were referred to fictitious names, and were published under the title, Debates of the Senate of Lilliput ; but, in Feb- ruary, 1743, Johnson, on finding that they were esteemed ge- nuine, desisted from the employment, declaring that he would not be accessary to the propagatiop of falsehood. So scrupu- lous was he on this score, that forty years after, not long be- fore his death, he expressed his regret at having been the author of fictions that had passed for realities. For a detailed account of this early portion of Johnson's literary history, we refer the reader to Boswell's Life, and the list of Johnson's works thereto prefixed, and pass on at once to those greater performances to which he owes his eminent rank among British writers. Of these the earliest and most celebrated is his Dictionary of the English Language. How long the plan of this work had been meditated, before it was actually commenced, is uncertain. He told Boswell that his knowledge of our language was not the effect of particular study, but had grown up insensibly in his mind. That he un- derrated the time and labour requisite for such a work, is evi- dent from his promising in his prospectus, issued in 1747, to complete it in three years. He, probably, had also underrated the needful knowledge and amount of preparatory study. In fact it was not published till 1755. He received for it 1575Z., of which, however, a very considerable portion was spent in expenses. The prospectus was addressed to Lord Chesterfield, who expressed himself warmly in favour of the design, and from that time forward treated the author with neglect until the time of publication drew nigh, when he again assumed the character of a patron. Fired at this, Johnson repudiated his assistance in a dignified but sarcastic letter, which is printed by Boswell. The transaction merits notice, for it is character- istic of Johnson's independent spirit, and excited at the time much curiosity and comment. The Dictionary was justly esteemed a wonderful work. It established at once the author's reputation among his contem- poraries, and was long regarded as the supreme standard by which disputed points in the English language were to be tried SAMUEL JOHNSON. 827 Johnson's chief qualification for the task lay in the accuracy of his definitions and the extent of his various and well-remem- bered reading. His chief disqualification lay in his ignorance of the cognate Teutonic languages, the stock from which the bulk and strength of our own is derived ; and, in propor- tion as the history and philosophy of the English language have been more extensively studied, has the need of a more learned and philosophical work of reference been felt. The verbose style of his definitions is rather a fruitful theme of ridi- cule than an important fault. Shortly, before its publication, he received from the University of Oxford, which through life he regarded with great affection and veneration, the honorary degree of M. A., a mark of respect by which he was highly gratified. That his labour in composing this work was not severe, may be inferred from the variety of literary employments in which, during its progress, he found time and inclination to engage, among which we may select for mention the imitation of Juve- nal's tenth satire, entitled Vanity of Human Wishes, and the periodical paper called the Rambler, which was published twice a week, from March 20, 1750, to March 17, 1752. Of the whole series, according to Boswell, only four papers, and a part of a fifth, were contributed by other pens ; and it is remarka- ble, considering the general gravity of the subjects and the elaboration of the style, that most of them were struck off at a heat, when constitutional indolence could procrastinate no longer, without even being read over before they were printed. The circulation of the work was small ; for its merits, which lie chiefly in moral instruction and literary criticism, were of too grave a cast to ensure favour ; the lighter parts, and the attempts at humour, are the least successful. But its popu- larity increased as the author's fame rose, and fashion recom- mended his grandiloquent style, and before his death it went through numerous editions in a collected form. In 1756, he issued proposals for an edition of Shakspeare, a scheme which he had contemplated as long back as 1745, when he published Miscellaneous Observations on the Tragedy of Mac- beth, He promised to complete it before Christmas, 1757 ; but it did not appear until October, 1765. Imperfectly versed in the antiquities, literature, and language of the Elizabethan 328 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. era, the source from which almost all valuable comment on the early dramatists has been drawn, he has done little to elucidate difficulties or correct errors. His Preface has been esteemed among the most valuable of his critical essays. But the peru- sal of his notes, and especially of his summary criticisms on the several plays, will confirm Garrick's judgment as to his sensibility, and show that he wanted that delicate perception and deep knowledge of the workings of the passions which were necessary to the ' adequate fulfilment of his most difficilt task. From April 15, 1758, to April 5, 1760, Johnson wrote a second periodical paper, called the Idler. Twelve only, out of one hundred and three essays, were contributed by his friends ; the rest were generally written with as much haste, and are of slighter texture, than those of the Rambler. Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, he wrote in the beginning of 1759, to defray the expenses of his mother's funeral, and pay some trifling debts which she had left. He told Sir Joshua Reynolds that it was composed in the evenings of one week, and sent to the press in portions as it was written. This anecdote aifords a good in- stance of Johnson's facility and power, when an adequate sti- mulus was applied. From the rich imagery, and the varied, powerful strain of reflection which pervade it, and the elabo- rated pomp of its style, it would assuredly be taken for the product of mature consideration, labour, and frequent revision. For this he received one hundred pounds, and twenty-five pounds more at a second edition. It has been translated into most European languages. In 1762, Johnson accepted a pension of 300?., for which he underwent considerable obloquy. This was entirely unde- served, though in some sort he had brought it on himself by indulging his satirical bias and political predilections in a way- ward definition of the words pension and pensioner^ in his Dic- tionary, where other instances occur of his indulging the hu- mour of the moment, whether it prompted him to spleen or merriment. Why he should not have accepted the pension, no sound reason can be given. His elacobitical predilections, never probably so strong as he used to represent them in the heat of argument, were lost, like those of others, in the hopelessness of the cause, and his Toryism naturally led him to transfer hi- SAMUEL JOHNSON. 329 full respect and allegiance to the reigning king, who never was suspected of an undue bias towards Whigism. The sum bestowed was no more than an honourable testimony to his literary emi- nence and a comfortable provision for his declining age ; and, as far as it is possible to form an opinion on such matters, the gift was unstained by any compact, expressed or understood, for political support. Among the more important events of Johnson's life, we are bound to mention his acquaintance with Mr. Boswell. which commenced in 1763, not only because it formed an important article among the pleasures of the philosopher's declining ^^ears, but because it led to the composition and publication of the most lively and vivid picture ever given by one man of an- other, the Life of Johnson. By Boswell, Johnson was induced, in compliance with a wish that he had long before entertained, to undertake a journey to the Scottish Highlands and the Heb- rides ; and it is remarkable that the first English book of tra- vels (as we believe) into what, to the English, was then almost a terra incognita, should have been composed by^a man so care- less of natural beauty, and so little disposed to sacrifice his ease and habits to the cravings of curiosity, as Johnson. His desire to visit that country seems to have arisen rather from a wish to study society in a simple form than from any taste for the wild beauties of those northern regions, of which he saw not the most favourable specimen, and has given not a flattering account. His Journey to the Western Islands will be read with pleasure, abounding in acute observation, passages of lofty elo- quence and grateful acknowledgment of the kindness and hos- pitality which he received — kindness which his snappish railings against the Scotch in general never led him to undervalue or forget. His companion and disciple's account of their expedi- tion will, however, be read with more amusement, from present- ing such vivid pictures of the author himself, as well as of the subject which he painted, and of the varied characters to Avhich they were introduced, and scenes in which they intermingled. We may here add that Johnson was a resolute unbeliever in the authenticity of Macpherson's Ossian, against which, in his book, he pronounced a decided judgment. He thus gave considera- ble offence to national vanity. To the claims of second-sight he was more favourable. Throughout life he was influenced by 42 2e2 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. a belief, not only in the possibility, but in the occasional exer- tion of supernatural agencies beyond the regular operation of the laws of nature. # In 1775, Johnson received frojg the University of Oxford the honorary degree of D. 0. L. '^The same degree had been conferred on him some time before by the University of Dublin , but he did not then assume the title of Doctor. His only sub- sequent work which requires notice is the Lives of the English Poets, written for a collective edition of them, which the book- sellers were about to publish. To the selection of the authors praise cannot be given. Many ornaments to British literature are omitted, and many obscure persons have found a place in the collection ; this, however, probably was not Johnson's fault. The publication began in 1779, and was not completed till 1781. The lives have gone through many editions by them- selves. Though strongly coloured by personal and political predilections, they contain much sound criticism, and form a valuable article in British biography. Many incidents connected with Johnson's life, his places of residence, his 'domestication in Mr. Thrale's family, his connec- tion with The Club, and the like, have been made generally known by the amusing works of Boswell, Mrs. Piozzi, and others. Perhaps public curiosity was never so strongly directed towards the person, habits, and conversation of any man known only as an author, and certainly it never has been so amply gratified. Boswell's Life of Johnson is unique in its kind. His powers of conversation were very great, and not only ' commanded the admiration and deference of his contempora- ries, but have contributed in a principal degree to the uphold- ing of his traditionary fame. They were deformed by an as- sumption of superiority, and an intolerance of contradiction or opposition, which often betrayed him into offensive rudeness. Yet his temper was at bottom affectionate and humane, hig attachments strong, and his charity only bounded, and scarcely bounded, by his means. The latter years of Dr. Johnson's life were overshadowed by much gloom. Many of his old and most valued friends sank into the grave before him. His bodily frame was much shattered by disease, his spirits became more liable to depression, and his SAMUEL JOHNSON. 331 sincere and ardent piety was too deeply tinged by constitutional despondency to afford him steady comf'^rt and support under his sufferings. He was struck by palsy in 1783, but recovered the use both of his bodily and mental faculties. A compli- cation of asthma and dropsy put an end to his existence, De- cember 13, 1785. During his illness, his anxiety for a pro- tracted life was painfully intense ; but his last hours are described by the bystanders to have been calm, happy, and confident. He was buried in Westminster Abbey. A statue to his memory is erected in St. Paul's Cathedral. 832 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. NICHOLAS LOUIS ZINZENDORF. ,OUNT ZmZENDORF, the father of the later Moravians, was born at Dresden, in Saxony^ May 26, 1700. His father, who was state- minister to the elector, died when Nicholas was young ; and his education devolved upon his grandmother, the learned and pious Ma- dame Von Gersdorf. As she maintained a correspondence with many religious men, and favoured to a considerable degree the opinions of the Pietists, her house was the resort of those who ( delighted in religious conversation and instruction. At many of their meetings, Zinzendorf was present ; he listened with delight to expositions of the pure principles of the gospel and narratives of pious men ; and with the natural ardour of youth, he permitted his imagination to dwell upon what he almost, daily heard, until his mind bordered upon a state of fanaticism. Sometimes he threw out of his window little letters addressed to the Saviour, in the hope that the Divine being would actually find them. When, at the age often years, he entered the academy of Halle, these religious impressions, besides strengthening, had become so tinged with mysticism, that he instituted the secret, religious order of the Mustard Seed, and held among his fellow-pupils weekly religious meetings. His grandmother appears to have regarded this disposition with pleasure ; but his uncle and guardian, desiring to prepare his nephew for business, removed him from Halle to the University of Wittenberg. The change produced no effect upon the young man's mind. He still ad- hered to his faith in the Pietists ; and at the second centennial anniversary of the Reformation, in 1717, he lamented in the solitude of his room the degeneracy of the times. Without guidance from any one, or even the assistance of books, he com- NICHOLAS LOUIS ZINZENDORF. 333 menced at this time the study of theology, with the design of entering upon the minstry. In 1719, Zinzendorf abandoned the university, and set out on the tour through Holland and France, which he has described in his "Pilgrimage of Atticus through the World." Most of his time during this journey appears to have been occupied in conversations with different divines on the subject of religion. In 1721, after his return, he was appointed to ofSce under the government of Dresden. He retained it six years, devoting his time principally to the study of theology. In the ^^ear follow- ing this appointment, he married the young Countess of Reuss Von Ebersdorf. About this time, a considerable body of emigrant Moravians, driven by persecution from their own country, took refuge in Germany. The religious feelings of Zinzendorf naturally in- clined him to favour these people ; and he even appears to have previously entertained much esteem for their creed and charac- ter. Moved by their destitution, he gave them permission to settle on his estate of Berthelsdorf in Upper Lusatia, a place which they afterwards named Herrnhut, or " protection of the Lord." At first, the settlers w^ere few; but as persecution increased in other countries, their number enlarged by acces- sions from various denominations besides their own. Zinzendorf' and a Lutheran minister named Rothe laboured to instruct them and their children. In a short time, however, material difi'erences of opinion concerning forms and doctrine manifested themselves, thus demonstrating the propriety of a general agree- ment concerning faith and rules of conduct. Accordingly, Zin- zendorf proposed articles of union, whose object was to form a Christian society on principles similar to those which existed in the apostolic age. In these articles, the distinctive doctrines of the different Protestant denominations Avere omitted ; the fundamental truths of Scripture, upon which they all agreed, were adopted as articles of faith ; and a social compact and dis- cipline, similar to that of the apostolic family, formed the basis of union. After mature consideration, these articles were adopted under the title of the brotherly agreement ; and this adoption, wdiich occurred in 1727, was the ground of the modern society of United Brethren. The most \mportant principles of this denomination are, that the Scriptures are the only rule of 334 LIVES OF EMINENT CHUISTIA^S. faith ; that the Holy Spu'it is given to every behever to guide him into all truth ; that theological discussions should be avoided, while practical experience forms the basis of individual piety ; that the teachings, life, and example of Christ, as exhibited by the plain words of Scripture, are the sure rule of faith ; that temporal aflPairs should be regulated according to the will of God, so far as that will can be gathered from Scripture ; that their peculiar regulations, so far from being essential, should be altered whenever such alteration may promote the great object — the advancement of piety ; and that a member of any Christian denomination may join their society without renouncing his creed or church. Such was the pure and simple faith on which Zinzendorf based his new society, and to the promotion of which he after- wards sacrificed his entire estate. We cannot follow the self- denying labours of the new denomination any further than they are connected with the personal history of Zinzendorf; but it may be remarked in general, that the obstacles to the com- mencing of the society's operation, and the trials subsequently endured by its missionaries, would have discouraged one less energetic and less pious than Zinzendorf. Such was his anxiety to become a preacher, that, in 1734, he went under an assumed name to Stralsund, passed an examination as a theological can- didate, and preached for the first time in the city church. After visiting several countries, with a view to gain some to his society, he was, in 1736, banished from Saxony. Retiring to Berlin, he was created bishop of the Moravian church at that place, when, as he could not preach, he held weekly meetings, which were well attended. In 1739, he visited the Brethren's missions in the "West Indies, and two years later, those in North America. During this visit, he preached and wrote incessantly, and esta- blished missions among several of the Indian tribes. Among his books, written at this time, are many for the instruction of the Brethren, a number in defence of himself or his doctrines, against attacks from various quarters, and a variety of hymns, of which some are still used by the Moravians in their public worship. They are described as containing quaint or gross images, and as not evincing a great amount of inspiration. His writings are also tinged with mysticism and ambiguity, attri- NICHOLAS LOUIS ZINZENDORF. 835 butable in a great measure to the haste in which they were composed. Zinzendorf returned to Europe in 1743. TraveUmg to Livo- nia, he was stopped by command of the Russian government, and sent back under military escort. He then visited Holland and England, remaining in the latter country about four years, and under the countenance of Archbishop Porter, General Ogle- thorpe, and others, obtained an act of parliament for the pro- tection of the Moravians in Great Britain. In 1647, the order of his banishment from his country was repealed. From this time until his death, in 1760, he continued to preach, write, and travel, devoting all his labours to the interests of the society which he had founded. He established a Moravian academy ; obtained from a commission of investigation a declaration that the United Brethren were true adherents to the Confession of Augsburg; and though opposed by learned men of nearly every denomination, he had the satisfaction of seeing his followers increase, and of sending out missions to heathen countries. His followers have extended their benevolent eiforts to climes the most inhospitable and forbidding ; and hundreds of Chris- tian communities have, through his influence, been established amid the snows of Greenland, the rocks of Labrador, the forests of the Western World, and the glowing sands of the Eastern tropics. S36 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. DAVID BRAINERD. RAINERD has written his own biography, with a minuteness which renders some of its scenes painful. He was born at Haddam, Connecticut, in April, 1718, and was the son of Hezekiah Brainerd, one of the king's counsel. At an early age he lost his father, and a few years after, his mother. These bereavements seemed to have so powerfully affected his mind, that for six years he was haunted by thoughts of death, and a con- sciousness of his wickedness. He sought relief in a strict performance of religious duties, but his dis- tress remained, and this period of his life was one 'f constant struggling and mental affliction. At the ige of twenty, he resolved to devote himself to the ministry, and, as a preparatory step, entered the family of Mr. Fiske, pastor of the church at Haddam. Here the impotency of his self-righteous acts became apparent to him. "My former good frames," he says, «H1TEFIELD. 355 his discourse, and during the two months he continuod to offi- ciate in London, people came from all parts of the city to hear him, and the chapel was crowded whenever he preached. He returned to Oxford again, where the society grew under his care. After a while, Mr. Kinchin, the minister of Dummer, in Hampshire, wishing to come to Oxford to be a candidate for dean of Corpus Christi college, invited Whitefield to take charge of his parish during his absence. He found the people poor and illiterate, and felt at first like mourning for the loss of his Oxford friends, but when he came to engage in the same round of duties that Mr. Kinchin had followed, and thus learned how zealous he had been, and how his congregation had been trained, he found his time fully occupied, and he learned to love those he laboured for, and derived a greater improvement from their society than books could have given him. When Mr. Kinchin was elected dean, Mr. Hervey was ready to take his place in the curacy, and Whitefield, relieved of the charge, felt the heart-yearning he had long had of assisting the Wesleys in Georgia, ripen into a purpose of going thither. At Gloucester, he bade his friends farewell, and received the bless- ing of the good bishop. Thence he went to Bristol, where he was received in high honour. The mayor appointed him to preach before the corporation. Quakers, Baptists, Presbyterians, all denominations, flocked to hear him, and the church was crowded on week-days, while on the Sabbath day multitudes were disappointed of hearing him for want of room. At London he was accepted by General Oglethorpe and the trustees of the colony, and presented to the Bishop of London and the primate. The vessel in which he was to sail, being likely to be detained for some months, he went to serve the church of a friend at Stonehouse, in his native county ; thence he went to Bristol again, where multitudes came out of the city, on foot and in coaches, to meet him, and blessed him as he passed along the street. He preached five times a week to such congregations that he could hardly make his way along the crowded aisles to the desk Some hung upon the rails of the organ loft, others climbed upon the leads of the church, and altogether made the church so hot with their breath, that the steam would fall from the pillars like drops of rain. When he preached his farewell sermon, and said to the people that perhaps they would see 356 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. his face no more, high and low, young and old, burst into ■'.ears. He left Bristol in the middle of the night, to avoid the ceremony of an escort by horsemen and coaches out of the city. To London, whither he went, the popular regard followed him. When he administered the sacrament, fresh elements had to be consecrated two or three times. The churches were opened on week-days, and constables stood at the doors to pre rent too great multitudes from forcing their way into the building. On Sunday mornings, in the latter months of the year, the streets were filled with people with lanterns, going to secure a place to hear him. The nearer the time of his departure arrived, the more intense these feelings became. They stopped him in the aisles and embraced him ; they waited on him at his lodgings, entreating him to write their names with his own hand, and begging other mementos of him, and when he preached his fare- well sermon the whole audience was in tears. He resided three months in America, discharging his duty with fervour and plain- ness, happy in his exile, and contented to remain there. He was obliged, however, to return to England to receive priest's orders, and to collect contributions for founding and supporting an orphan house in the colony. His return voyage lasted nine weeks and three days. They had been long on short allowance, exhausted their last cask of water, and were in the extremes of distress and bewilderment, when the vessel made Limerick harbour. Whitefield came at once to London, waited on the bishop and primate, who received him favourably, and highly approved his designs respecting his charge in Georgia, hoping thus to fix him in America, where his enthusiasm could not in- terfere with their ease. The trustees presented him with the living of Savannah, and the good Bishop Benson, who had or- dained him deacon, now introduced him into priest's orders. The business of raising money for the orphan house, however, detained him in England, and he resumed the labours which had been broken off by his departure for America. His popu- larity was as great as ever. One day, preaching at Bermondsey church, he knew that nearly one thousand people stood outside, anable to obtain admittance, and he felt a strong inclination to go out and preach from the tombstones. This inclination led to a determination to adopt the system of preaching in the fields, vnd it was soon commenced in Kingswood, near Bristol, a tract GEORGE WHITEFIELD. S57 of country so abounding in low and degraded beings, principally colliers, in the most abject state of poverty and brutality, that when Whitefield first announced his intention of going to America to convert the Indians, many of his friends said, "What need of going abroad for this ? Have we not Indians enough at home ? If you have a mind to convert Indians, there are col- liers enough in Kingswood." To these benighted souls he had long yearned to open the light of heavenly truth, and they had no churches. He came among them and preached one day without notice. His audience then numbered about two hun- dred. The second time he preached, two thousand persons had assembled to hear him, the third audience numbered between four and five thousand, and they went on increasing until they were estimated at more than twenty thousand. Meanwhile the clerical authorities had taken offence at him, and would no longer permit him to preach in the churches, so that what he had adopted of choice, was now become a matter of necessity. "The sun," says Whitefield, alluding to one of these meetings, "shone very bright, and the people standing in such an awful manner around the mount in the profoundest silence, filled me with a holy admiration." On another occasion, "The trees and hedo'es were full. All was hushed when I beo;an : the sun shone bright, and God enabled me to preach for an hour with great power, and so loud, that all, I was told, could hear me. Blessed be God, Mr. spoke right ; the fire is kindled in the coun- try.'' The silence of these motley multitudes proved the power of the preacher over them, and gave him increased confidence, but when he saw the white gutters made by the tears that fell plentifully down their black cheeks, black as they came out of the coal pits, his thankful heart was full ; gratitude overcame him. Feeling the necessity of preparing for his return to America, AVhitefield sent for John Wesley and invited him to continue the system begun at Bristol. Wesley, after some hesitancy, con- sented, and Whitefield came to London, where he attacked Sa- tan in his stronghold, by preaching in the open air in the suburbs of Moorfields, then the great resort of the idle, the dissolute, the profligate, and the criminal. The same success attended his preaching here as elsewhere, and many souls were reclaimed from their evil ways. Amid all his success, Whitefield never 858 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. forgot that he was the pastor of a little parish in Georgia, and the raising of money to build an orphan house there, the prin- cipal business he had in England. This was so far accomplished, that he was able to set sail for America on the 14th of August, 1739. He arrived in Philadelphia early in November of that year, and was at once invited to preach in the churches. But no church could hold the crowds that assembled to hear him ; so he chose the gallery of the little court-house for a pulpit, and his audiences stood around in the open space in front. Leav- ing Philadelphia, he preached a while in New York, and then went south to Savannah, preaching continually, wherever he came, with the most happy efifect. He arrived at Sa- vannah, in January, 1740, and on the 25th of March he laid the foundation of his orphan house, which he called Be- thesda, the House of Mercy. He then set forth on a journey of solicitation, and came by sea to Philadelphia, where a paper of the day states, that he preached to an audience of fifteen thousand persons on a Sabbath, and gives appointments for his preaching in all the towns near that city. He returned to Georgia again before he went to New England, having collected in Pennsylvania and the neighbouring provinces about four hundred and fifty pounds for his orphans in Georgia. On his return he became involved in a controversy with Mr. Garden, the rector of St. Philip's church, at Charleston, who was the commissary or deputy of the Bishop of London for South Carolina. The dispute was carried on with great violence by Mr. Garden, who preached a sermon, when Whitefield was one of his hearers, in which he drew a parallel between him and all the Oliverians, Ranters, Quakers, French Prophets, till he came down to a family of Dutartes, who had lived some years before in South Carolina, and were guilty of the most notorious incests and murders. " Had some infernal spirit been sent to draw my picture," says Whitefield, "I think it scarcely possible that he could paint me in more horrid colours. I think, if ever, then was the time that all manner of evil was spoken falsely against me for Christ's sake." Whitefield was summoned to appear before the commissary, as the head of an ecclesiastical tribunal, to answer certain articles, '^to be objected and ministered unto him con- cerning the mere health of his soul, and the reformation and ^.orrectioa of his manners and excesses." He appeared on the lay named, and the first court of this kiod ever held in America GEOEGE WHITEFIELD. 359 commenced its proceedings. After committing several blunders on both sides, by way of showing their ignorance of the business, the court adjourned till nine o'clock next morning, to give Mr. Whitefield time to inform himself of the extent of the jurisdic- tion of the bishop and his commissary. How intently he studied the subject may be imagined from the fact that he preached twice during the remainder of the day. On the fol- lowing morning Mr. Graham appeared as prosecuting attorney, and Mr. Rutledge as counsel for the respondent. Whitefield made some mistakes, but hints from his quick-sighted counsel, and his own adroitness, saved him from their consequences. Once his indignation broke forth, and he read the court a severe lecture on their meanness in catching at a word as soon as it was out of his mouth, without allowing him time to correct it. He filed an objection to be judged by the commissary, who, he alleged was prejudiced against him. New questions arose upon this, and the court adjourned until the following morning. Whitefield went to James's Island, read prayers and preached. In court next day, he found that his exceptions were overruled, and then he appealed to the High Court of Chancery in Lon- don, declaring all further proceedings at Charleston to be null and void ; and then be read letters which refreshed his spirit, by informing him " how mightily the word of God grew and prevailed" at Philadelphia, and that Mr. Bolton, in Georgia, had near fifty negroes learning to read. The appeal was never tried. The dignitaries in London seemed to think it a profit- less business, and contrived to let it die of neglect. In the fall of this year he was engaged labouring in New England, preaching everywhere with success, particularly at Boston, and in the colleges at Cambridge and New Haven. Re- turning to New York and Philadelphia, he sailed from the Del- aware to Charleston, and reached Savannah on the 20th of December. On his way back, he thus sums up his labours. «4lt is the seventy-fifth day since I arrived at Rhode Island. My body was then weak, but the Lord has much renewed its strength. I have been enabled to" preach one hundred and seventy-five times in public, besides exhorting very frequently in private. I have travelled upwards of eight hundred miles, and gotten upwards of seven hundred pounds sterling in goods, provisions, and money for my poor orphans. Having arranged the affairs of the orphan house, he preached a farewell sermou, 360 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. and left Savannah for the purpose of embarking for England. On the twenty-fourth of January, 1741, he crossed Charleston bar, on the eleventh of March, arrived at Falmouth, whence he rode post to London, and on the next Sabbath preached Ln Ken- nington Common. Before sailing to America, he had become impressed with Calvinistic views, which had brought about a partial separation between him and Mr. Wesley, and subsequent occurrences tended to widen the breach. Whitefield had besought Wesley not to preach against election, as he, though he believed it, would not preach in favour of it, that they might not become divided among themselves. Wesley had recourse to sortilege, and the lot he drew was, '< preach and print." He preached at once, but did not print till after the departure of Whitefield, who answered his publication by a letter from Bethesda, in Georgia. This reply was written in very bad taste, and its publication made its author many enemies. The Wesleys, by their power- ful preaching and incessant exertions brought nearly the whole body of the Methodists over to their views, and this, with two ill-judged attacks made by Whitefield on England's greatest favourites— "The Whole Duty of Man" and Archbishop Tillot- son — left Whitefield nearly destitute of the popularity he had previously acquired. His whole work was to begin again, and he commenced it immediately, preaching at first to one or two hun- dred persons, but still preaching until his audiences were scarcely less numerous than formerly. At the invitation of some of his friends in Scotland, he went to Edinburgh, and thence to many places in that kingdom, preaching the gospel, without allying himself to any sect or clique, and always with power, commenc ing a revival, which was continued by zealous labourers after his departure with the most happy results. Leaving Edinburgh in October, he passed into Wales, where he was married, and thence to London, where he arrived early in December, 1741. Whitefield had previously determined to enter the married state in America, and wrote to the parents of the lady he was disposed to choose a characteristic letter, enclosing one to herself, in which she was invited'to partake of a way of life which nothing but devotion and enthusiasm like his could render endurable. He said that he much liked the manner of Isaac's marriage with Rebecca ; and thought no mar- GEORGE WPIITEFIELD. 861 riage could succeed well unless both parties were like-minded with Tobias and his wife. In conclusion, he requested that if she thought marriage would be prejudicial to her better part, to be so kind as to send him a denial. In reply, he was informed that she was in a seeking state only ; and surely, he said, that would not do ; he must have one full of faith and the Holy Ghost. Such a wife he thought he had now discovered in a widow, named James, at Abergavenny, who was between thirty and forty; neither rich nor beautiful, but having once been gay, was now a despised follower of the Lamb. His marriage, how- ever, was unhappy, and the interference of others so increased his domestic difficulties, that one of his friends says that the death of his wife "set his mind much at liberty." His popularity, meanwhile, increased steadily, and he was bold enough to attack Satan in his stronghold by preaching in Moorfields duriiig the Whitsun-holidays. It was a pitched bat- tle, and lasted until night. Whitefield displayed greit general- ship. He began at six in the morning, when some ten thousand people were assembled, waiting for the sports to commence. He was attended by a guard of praying people, and when he began the crowd flocked around his pulpit. Thus he had for once got the start of the devil, and he maintained his advantage all day, preaching three times, in spite of drummers, trumpeters, merry- andrews, puppet-show men, players, keepers of wild beasts, and their friends. Stones, dirt, rotten eggs, and pieces of dead cats and other animals were frequently thrown at him, and a recruit- ing sergeant marched his men through the midst of the audi- ence ill the hope of making a disturbance. Whitefield requested his people to fall back and make way for the king's officers, and then close up again. This manoeuvre baffled the enemy. An- other part of the preacher's tactics was very efiective. His voice was like a trumpet, but sometimes the uproar became so great that he could not be heard, and then he called the pray- ing people to his aid, and they all began singing ; and so singing, and praying, and preaching, he kept the field. In this strange warfare he produced a very great impression. More than a thousand notes were handed up to him by persons who were "brought under concern" by his preaching that day, and three hundred and fifty persons joined his congregation. On the next day he fought a similar battle with Satan in Mary-le-bone 46* 2 H 362 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. fields, a place of similar resort. On the third day he returned to Moorfields and preached, if possible, with greater effect than on the first. His regular place of preaching was at the Tabernacle, a build- ing so called from its temporary nature, erected soon after his separation from Wesley by his friends. Here he was assisted by Cennick and others, and the patronage and zeal of Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, made Calvinistic Methodism to be irabodied into a separate sect. She made Whitefield her chap- lain, and he induced her to become, what she was well-fitted to be, the head of the church he was founding. She built chapels in many places, and employed Calvinistic clergymen to officiate in them, and at length set up a seminary for educating such at Trevecca, in South Wales. These chapels were called Lady Huntingdon's chapels ; the preachers Lady Huntingdon's preach- ers; and the college Lady Huntingdon's college.. To crown the whole, the Calvinistic Methodists went by the name of Lady Huntingdon's connection. In 1762, Whitefield went again to Scotland, and with the able and willing co-labourers there, he set the country in a state of excitement such as the cool-blooded inhabitants had never dreamed of. ''Besides Edinburgh and Glasgow," says Gillies, "it is really wonderful to think how many places in the west of Scotland he visited within a few weeks, preaching at every one of them." In November he was again at London. During all this time, Whitefield had continued to correspond with the Wesleys, and they occasionally preached in each other's pulpits. Each did justice to what he knew was good and noble in the character of the other, and there was a rivalry between them in forgiving injuries committed in hot blood, and in oppo- sition to the promptings of the true heart within. When White- field returned from America to England, for the last time, Wesley visited him,. October, 1765, and gives an account of the interview in his journal. "I breakfasted," he observes, "with Mr. Whitefield, who seemed to be an old, old man, being fairly worn out in his Mas- ter's servi';e, though he has hardly seen fifty years. And yet it pleases God, that I, who am now in my sixty-third year, find no disorder, no weakness, no decay, no difference from what I was at five and twenty: only that I have fewer teeth, and more GEORGE WHITLr'IELD. 363 gray hairs:" Soon after, he adds, "Mr. Whitefield called upon me ; he breathes nothing but peace and love. Bigotry cannot stand before him, but hides its head wherever he comes." The history of Mr. Whitefield's labours is unparalleled. They continued till his death, and were always effective. He made many opponents, and these often convicted him of gross errors j but he thanked them so earnestly when they showed him his faults, acknowledged them, and endeavoured to avoid them in the future with so much success, that those most embittered against him learned to respect and love him. His death took place at Newburyport, while on a visit to New England, in 1770. He wished for a sudden death, and his desire was in some degree vouchsafed to him. His illness was but of few hours' duration. When he was first seized with it, one of his friends expressed a wish that he would not preach so often. He answered that he had rather wear out than rust out. He was buried in the Presbyterian church in Newbury port, before the pulpit. Every mark of respect was shown to his remains. All the bells in town tolled, and the ships in the har- bour fired mourning guns, and hung their flags at half mast. In Georgia, all the black cloth in the stores was bought up, and the church was hung in black ; the governor and the council met at the state-house in deep mourning, and went in a proces- sion to hear a funeral sermon. Funeral sermons were preached in all the tabernacles in England, and John Wesley preached several of them, wishing he said to show all possible respect to the memory of so great and so good a man. Of the sects which were benefited by his labours, the Presbyterians in America undoubtedly reaped the greatest advantages, if indeed their whole success is not to be attributed to his agency. But who shall attempt to estimate the number of those who were awakened by his burning words to a sense of their religious wants, and encouraged by him to come to Him, who gives us our daily bread, to have them supplied. Scores of men, who have since become shining lights in the Lord's ministry on earth, date their first religious impressions at the time of hearing Whitefield, and the name of those who have blessed his memory as they felt the benefits of a religious faith in the hour of death, is legion. 864 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS CHRISTIAN SCHWARTZ. UMEROUS able and good men have devoted themselves to the cause of missions, and none with more distinguished success than he who has been called the Apostle of the East, Chris- tian Schwartz. The saying of an eminent missionary, who preached to a far different people, the stern and high-minded Indians of North America, is exemplified in his life, — «' Prayer a.nd pains, through faith, will do any thing." For years Schwartz laboured in obscu- rity, with few scattered and broken rays of en- couragement to cheer his way. But his patience, his integrity, his unwearied benevolence, his sincerity and unblemished purity of life, won a hearing for his Avords of doctrine ; and he was rewarded at last by a more extended empire in the hearts of the Hindoos, both heathen and convert, than perhaps any other European has obtained. Christian Frederic Schwartz was born at Sonnenburg, in the Kew Mark, Germany, October 26, 1726. His mother died while he was very young, and, in dying, devoted the child, in the presence of her husband and her spiritual guide, to the ser- vice of God, exacting from both of them a promise that they would use every means for the accomplishment of this, her last and earnest wish. Schw^artz received his education at the schools of Sonnenburg and Custrin. He grew up a serious and well-disposed boy, much under the influence of religious im- pressions; and a train of fortunate circumstances deepened those impressions, at a time when the vivacity of youth, and the excitement of secular pursuits, had nearly withdrawn him from the career to which he was dedicated. When about twenty years of age he entered the University of Halle, where he ob- CHRISTIAN SCHWARTZ. 365 tained the fviendship of one of the professors, Herman Francke, a warm and generous supporter of the missionary cause. While resident at Halle, Schwartz, together with another student, was appointed to learn the Tamul or Malabar language, in order to superintend the printing of a Bible in that tongue. His labour was not thrown away, though the proposed edition never was completed ; for it led Francke to propose to him that he should go out to India as a missionary. The suggestion suited his ar- dent and laborious character, and was at once accepted. The appointed scene of his labours was Tranquebar, on the Coro- mandel coast, the seat of a Danish mission ; and, after repair- ing to Copenhagen for ordination, he embarked from London for India, January 21, 1750, and reached Tranquebar in July. It is seldom that the life of one employed in advocating the faith of Christ presents much of adventure, except from the fiery trials of persecution ; or much of interest, except to those who will enter into the missionary's chief joy or sorrow, the success or inefficiency of his preaching. From persecution Schwartz's whole life was free ; his difficulties did not proceed from bigoted or interested zeal, but from the apathetic subtlety of his Hindoo hearers, ready to listen, slow to be convinced, enjoying the mental sword-play of hearing, and answering, and being confuted, and renewing the same or similar objections at the next meeting, as if the preacher's former labours had not been. The latter part of his life was possessed of active in- terest ; for he was no stranger to the court or the camp ; and his known probity and truthfulness won for him the confidence of three most dissimilar parties, a suspicious tyrant, an op- pressed people, and the martial and diplomatic directors of the British empire in India. But the early years of his abode in India possess interest neither from the marked success of his preaching, nor from his commerce with the busy scenes of con- quest and negotiation. For sixteen years he resided chiefly at Tranquebar, a member of the mission to which he was first attached ; but at the end of that time, in 1766, he transferred his services to the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, with which he acted until death, and to which the care of the Danish mission at Tranquebar was soon after transferred. He had already, in 1765, established a church and school at Trit- chinopoly, and in that town he now took up his abode, holding 2h2 366 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. the offir^e of chaplain to the garrison, for which he received a sa- lary of ^100 yearly. This entire sum he devoted to the ser- vice of the mission. For several years Schwartz resided principally at Tritchino- poly, visiting other places, from time to time, especially Tan- jore, where his labours ultimately had no small effect. He was heard with attention; he was everywhere received with respect; for the Hindoos could not but admire the beauty of his life, though it failed to win souls to his preaching. ^' The fruit," he said, '< will perhaps appear when I am at rest." He had, how- ever the pleasure of seeing some portion of it ripen, for in more than one place a small congregation grew gradually up under his care. His toil was lightened and cheered in 1777, when another missionary was sent to his assistance from Tran- quebar. Already he had derived help from some of his more advanced converts, who acted as catechists, for the instruction of others. He was sedulous in preparing these men for their important duty. ''The catechists," he says, "require to be daily admonished and stirred up, otherwise they fall into indo- lence and impurity." Accordingly he daily assembled all those whose nearness permitted this frequency of intercourse ; he taught them to explain the doctrines of their religion ; he di- rected their labours for the day, and he received a report of those labours in the evening. His visits to Tanjore became more frequent, and he obtained the confidence of the Rajah, or native prince, Tulia Maha, who ruled that city under the protection of the British. In 1779, Schwartz procured permission from him to erect a church in his capital, and, with the sanction of the Madras government, set immediately to work on this task. His funds failing, he applied at Madras for further aid ; but, in reply, he was summoned to the seat of government with all speed, and requested to act as an ambassador, to treat with Hyder Ally for the continuance of peace. It has been said that Schwartz engaged more deeply than became his calling in the secular affiiirs of India. The best apology for his interference, if apology be needful, is con- tained in his own account : — " The novelty of the proposal sur- prised me at first : I begged some time to consider of it. At last I accepted of the offer, because by so doing I hoped to prevent evil, and to promote the welfare of the country." The CHRISTIAN SCHWARTZ. 367 reason for sending him is at least to 3 honourable to him to be omitted: it was the requisition of Ilyder himself. "Do not send to me," he said, "any of jour agents; for I do not trust their words or treaties : but if you wish me to listen to your proposals, send to me the missionary of whose character I hear so much from every one ; him I will receive and trust." In his character of an envoy, Schwartz succeeded admirably. He conciliated the crafty, suspicious, and unfeeling despot, with- out compromising the dignity of those whom he represented, or forgetting the meekness of his calling. He would gladly have rendered his visit to Seringapatam available to higher than tem- poral interests : but here he met with little encouragement. Indifferent to all religion, Hyder suffered the preacher to speak to him of mercy and of judgment; but in these things his heart had no part. Some few converts Schwartz made during his abode of three months ; but on the whole he met with little suc- cess. He parted with Hyder upon good terms, and returned with joy to Tanjore. The peace, however, was of no long con- tinuance ; and Schwartz complained that the British govern- ment were guilty of the infraction. Hyder invaded the Car- natic, wasting it with fire and sword ; and the frightened inha- bitants flocked for relief and protection to the towns. Tanjore and Tritchinopoly were filled with famishing multitudes. Dur- ing the years 1781, 2, and 3, this misery continued. At Tan- jore, especially, the scene was dreadful. Numbers perished in the streets, of want and disease ; corpses lay unburied, because the survivors had not energy or strength to inter them , the bonds of affection were so broken that parents offered their chil- dren for sale ; and the garrison, though less afflicted than the native population, were enfeebled and depressed by want, and threatened by a powerful army without the walls. There were provisions in the country; but the cultivators, frightened ani alienated by the customary exactions and ill-usage, refused to bring it to the fort. They would trust neither the British au- thorities nor the Rajah : all confidence was destroyed. " At last the Rajah said to one of our principal gentlemen, ' We all, you and I, have lost our credit : let us try whether the inhabit- ants will trust Mr. Schwartz.' Accordingly, he sent me a blank paper, empowering me to make a proper agreement witli the people. Here was no time for hesitation. The Sepoys fell 36S LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. down as dead people, being emaciated with hunger ; our streets were lined with dead corpses every morning — our condition was deplorable. I sent, therefore, letters everywhere round about, promising to pay any one with my own hands, and to pay them for any bullock which might be taken by the enemy. In one or two days I got nbove a thousand bullocks ; and sent one of our catechists, and other Christians, into the country. They went at the risk of their lives, made all possible haste, and brought into the fort, in a very short time, 80,000 kalams of grain. By this means the fort was saved. When all was over, I paid the people, even with some money which belonged to others, made them a small present, and sent them hom<> '' The letter from which this passage is extracted was writteii to the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, in conse- quence of an attack made by a member of parliament upon the character of the Hindoo converts, and depreciation of the labours of the missionaries. To boast was not in Schwartz's nature ; but he was not deterred by a false modesty from vin- dicating his own reputation, when it was expedient for his Mas- ter's service : and there has seldom been a more striking tribute paid to virtue, unassisted by power, than in the conduct of the Hindoos, as told in this simple statement. His labours did not cease with this crisis, nor with his personal exertions. He bought a quantity of rice at his own expense, and prevailed on some European merchants to furnish him with a monthly sup- ply ; by means of which he preserved many persons from pe- rishing. In 1784, he was again employed by the Company on a mission to Tippoo Saib ; but the son of Hyder refused to receive him. About this period his health, hitherto robust, began to fail ; and in a letter, dated July, 1784, he speaks of the ap- proach of death, of his comfort in the prospect, and firm belief in the doctrines which he preached. In the same year the in- crease of his congregation rendered it necessary to build a Malabar church in the suburbs of Tanjore, which was done chiefly at his own expense. In February, 1785, he engaged in a scheme for raising English schools throughout the country, to facilitate the intercourse of the natives with Europeans. Schools were accordingly established at Tanjore and three other places. The pupils were chiefly children of the upper classes — of Bra- mins and merchants ; and the good faith with which Schwartz CHKTSTTAN SCHWAKTZ. 369 conducted these establishments deserves to be praised as well as his religious zeal. " Their intention, doubtless, is to learn the English language, with a view to their temporal welfare ; but they thereby become better acquainted with good princi- ples. No deceitful methods are used to bring them over to the doctrines of Christ, though the most earnest wishes are felt that they may attain that knowledge which is life eternal." In a temporal view, these establishments proved very serviceable to many of the pupils : but, contrary to Schwartz's hopes and wishes, not one of the young men became a missionary. In January, 1787, Schwartz's friend, the Rajah of Tanjore, lay at the point of death. Being childless, he had adopted a boy, yet in his minority, as his successor ; a practice recognised by the Hindoo law. His brother, ximeer Sing, however, was supported by a strong British party, and it was not likely that he would submit quietly to his exclusion from the throne. In this strait Tulia Maha sent for Schwartz, as the only person to whom he could intrust his adopted son. "This," he said, 'Ms not my, but your son ; into your hands I deliver the child." Schwartz accepted the charge with reluctance : he represented his inability to protect the orphan, and suggested that Ameer Sing should be named regent and guardian. The advice pro- bably was the best that could be given : but the regent proved false, or at least doubtful in his trust ; and the charge proved a source of trouble and anxiety. But by Schwartz's care and influence with the Company, the young prince was reared to manhood, and established in possession of his inheritance. Nor were Schwartz's pains unsuccessful in the cultivation of his young pupil's mind, who is characterized by Heber as an '<• ex- traordinary man." He repaid these fatherly cares with a filial affection, and long after the death of Schwartz testified, both by word, and deed, his regard for his memory. We find little to relate during the latter part of Schwartz's life, though much might be written, but that the limits of this work forbid us to dilate upon a single biography. His efforts were unceasing to promote the good, temporal as well as spiri- tual, of the Indian population. On one occasion he was re- quested to inspect the water-courses by which the arid lands of the Carnatic are irrigated ; and his labours were rewarded by a great increase in the annual produce. Once the inhabitants o^ 47 870 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. the Tanjore country had been so grievously oppressed, that tnejr abandoned their farms, and fled the country. The cultivation which should have begun in June, was not commenced even at the beginning of September, and all began to apprehend a fa- mine. Schwartz says in the letter which we have already quoted, " I entreated the Rajah to remove that shameful oppression, and to recall the inhabitants. He sent them word that justice should be done to them, but they disbelieved his promises. He then desired me to write to them, and to assure them that he, at my intercession, would show kindness to them. I did so. All immediately returned ; and first of all the Collaries be- lieved my word, so that 7000 men came back in one day. The rest of the inhabitants followed their example. When I ex- horted them to exert themselves to the utmost, because the time for cultivation was almost lost, they replied in the following manner: — 'As you have showed kindness to us, you shall not have reason to repent of it : we intend to work night and day to show our regard for you.' " His preaching was rewarded by a slow, but a progressive effect ; and the number of missionaries being increased by the Society in England, the growth of the good seed, which he had sown during a residence of forty years, became more rapid and perceptible. In the country villages numerous congregations were formed, and preachers were established at Cuddalore, Vepery, Negapatam, and Palamcotta, as well as at the earlier stations of Tranquebar, Tritchinopoly, and Tanjore, whose chief recreation was the occasional intercourse with each other which their duty afforded them, and who lived in true harmony and union of mind and purpose. The last illness of Schwartz was cheered by the presence of almost all the missionaries in the south of India, who regarded him as a father, and called him by that endearing name. His labours did not diminish as his years increased. From the beginning of January to the middle of October, 1797, we are told by his pupil and assistant, Caspar Kolhoff, he preached every Sunday in the English and Tamul languages by turns ; for several successive Wednesdays he gave lectures in their own languages to the Portuguese and German soldiers incorporated in the 51st regiment ; during the week he explained the New Testament in his usual order at morning and evening prayer; and he dedicated an hour every day to the CHRISTIAN SCHWARTZ. 371 Histruction of the Malabar school children. In October, he who hitherto had scarce known disease, received the warning of his mortality. He rallied for a while, and his friends hoped that he might yet be spared to them. But a relapse took place, and he expired February 13, 1798, having displayed throughout a long and painful illness a beautiful example of resignation and happiness, and an interest undimmed by pain in the welfare of all for and with whom he had laboured. His funeral, on the day after his death, presented a most affecting scene. It was delayed by the arrival of the Rajah, who wished to behold once more his kind, and faithful, and watchful friend and guardian. The cofl&n lid was removed ; the prince gazed for the last time on the pale and composed features, and burst into tears. The funeral service was interrupted by the cries of a multitude who loved the reliever of their distresses, and honoured the pure life of the preacher, who for near fifty years had dwelt among them, careless alike of pleasure, interest, and ambition, pursuing a difficult and thankless task with unchanging ardour, the friend of princes, yet unsullied even by the suspicion of a bribe, de- voting his whole income, beyond a scanty maintenance, to the service of the cause which his life was spent in advocating. The Rajah continued to cherish Schwartz's memory. He commissioned Flaxman for a monument erected to him at Tan- jore ; he placed his picture among those of his own ancestors ; he erected more than one costly establishment for charitable purposes in honour of his name ; and, though not professing Christianity, he secured to the Christians in his service not only liberty, but full convenience for the performance of their reli- gious duties. Nor were the directors of the East India Company backward in testifying their gratitude for his services. They sent out a monument by Bacon to be erected in St. Mary's Church at Madras, with orders to pay every becoming honour to his memory, and especially to permit to the natives, by whom he was so revered, free access to view this memorial of his virtues. It is to be regretted that no full memoir of the life and labours of this admirable man has been published. It is understood that his correspondence, preserved by the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, would furnish ample materials for such a work. The facts of this account are taken from the only two memoirs of Schwartz which we know to be in print, — a short 372 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. one for cheap circulation published by the Religious Tract So cietj and a more finished tribute to his memory in Mr. Game's "Lives of Eminent Missionaries," recently published. We conclude in the words of one whose praise carries with it autho- rity, Bishop Heber : " Of Schwartz, and his fifty years' labour among the heathen, the extraordinary influence and popularity ■which he acquired, both with Mussulmans, Hindoos, and con- tending European governments, I need give you no account, except that my idea of him has been raised since I came into the south of India. I used to suspect that, with many admira- ble qualities, there was too great a mixture of intrigue in his character — that he was too much of a political prophet, and that the veneration which the heathen paid, and still pay him, (and which indeed almost regards him as a superior being, putting crowns, and burning lights before his statue,) was purchased by some unwarrantable compromise with their prejudices. I find I was quite mistaken. He was really one of the most active and fearless, as he was one of the most successful missionaries, who have appeared since the apostles. To say that he was dis- interested in regard of money, is nothing ; he was perfectly careless of power, and renown never seemed to affect him, even so far as to induce an outward show of humility. His temper was perfectly simple, open, and cheerful ; and in his political negotiations (employments which he never sought, but which fell in his way) he never pretended to impartiality, but acted as the avowed, though certainly the successful and judicious agent of the orphan prince committed to his care, and from attempting whose conversion to Christianity he seems to have abstained from a feeling of honour.* His other converts were between six and seven thousand, besides those which his companions and predecessors in the cause had brought over." * He probably acted on the same principle as in conducting the English Bchoois above mentioned, using " no deceitful methods." That he was earnest in recommending the fnea7is of conversion, appears from a dying conversation irith his pupil, Serf ogee Rajah. JOSEPH ADDISON. 378 JOSEPH ADDISON, ^ WRITER of surpassing elegance, was born at Milton, near Amesbury, in Wilt- shire, on the 1st of May, 16T2. In this town he received the rudiments of educa- tion, under the Rev. Mr. Naish, and was ?v^ afterwards removed to the Rev. Mr. Taylor's school, at Salisbury, and from thence to the Charter House, where he became acquainted with Steele. At the age of fifteen, he was en- tered of Queen's College, Oxford; and, shortly afterwards, a copy of some of his Latin verses fall- ing into the hands of Dr. Lancaster, Dean of Mag- dalen College, that gentleman was so pleased with the talent they displayed, that he procured the author's election into his own hall, where Addison took his de- grees of B. A. and M. A. In the course of a few years, he gained the applause of both universities, by his Latin com- positions, which were no less esteemed abroad, and are said to have elicited from Boileau the remark that he would not have written against Perrault, had he before seen such excellent pieces by a modern hand. His first publication, a copy of verses addressed to Mr. Dryden, appeared about 1694, who be- stowed great commendation both on this and the one that fol- loTved it, which was a translation of the fourth Georgic of Vir- gil, (omitting the story of Aristseus.) His next production was <' An Essay on the Georgics," prefixed to Mr. Dryden's transla- tion, an admirable piece of criticism ; and, about the same time, he wrote several small poems, one of which, dated April, 1694, was addressed to the famous Sacheverell, his intimacy with whom was subsequently broken off" by their disagreement in political principles. Mr. Addison had, it seems, been urged by his father, Dean 2 I 374 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Addison, to go into the church ; but either on account of his remarkable seriousness and modesty, as related by Tickell, or, according to Steele, at the suggestion of Lord Halifax, he de- dined taking orders, and, in 1699, commenced a tour to Italy, on a travelling pension of £300 per annum, obtained for him by Sir John Somers, whose patronage he had previously se- cured by addressing to him some verses on one of the cam- paigns of King William. In 1701, he wrote from Italy an epistolary poem to Lord Halifax, which was much admired both at home and abroad, and was translated into Italian verse by the Abbot Antonio Maria Saloini, professor of Greek, at Flo- rence. In 1702, he w^as appointed to attend Prince Eugene, who then commanded for the emperor, in Italy ; but the death of King William happening soon afterwards, which put an end to this aifair as well as his pension, he returned home and pub- lished an account of his travels, dedicated to Lord Somers. The work did not at first succeed ; but, by degrees, says the writer of his life in the Biographia Britannica, as the curious entered deeper and deeper into the book, their judgment of it changed, and the demand for it became so great that the price rose to five times its original value before a second edition was printed. In 1704, an opportunity was afforded to him of dis- playing his abilities with advantage from the following circum- stance : — Lord Godolphin, the treasurer, happening to com- plain to Lord Halifax that the Duke of Marlborough's victory at Blenheim had not been celebrated in verse as it deserved, the patron of our poet observed that he knew a person capable of writing upon such a subject, but that he would not name him — adding that he had long seen, with indignation, men of no merit maintained in pomp and luxury at the expense of the public, while persons of too much modesty, wdth great abilities, lan- guished in obscurity. Lord Godolphin took the hint, and, on Addison being named, sent the chancellor of the exchequer to wait upon him personally, when he, in consequence, undertook his celebrated poem of the campaign, which, being shown to the lord-treasurer when it was carried no farther than the famous simile of the angel, so pleased him that he immediately ap- pointed its author a commissioner of appeals. In 1705, Mr. Addison accompanied Lord Halifax to Hanover,^ and, in the following year, he was chosen under-secretary of JOSEPH ADDISO^s 375 •state to Sir Charles Hedges, and was continued in the same office by the Earl of Sunderland, who succeeded Sir Charles iu l>>ecember, 1706. About this time, a taste for operas begin- ning to prevail in England, the subject of our memoir was re- quested, by several persons of distinction, to try his skill in that species of composition, and he accordingly produced his Rosamond, which, had the music been equal to the poetry, would probably have met with success. In 1709, he accom- panied the Marquess of Wharton to Ireland as his secretary, and was, at the same time, appointed keeper of the records in that kingdom, with an increased salary of c£300 per annum. The publication of " The Tattler" having been commenced in the same year by Steele, Addison continued to be a principal sup- porter of that paper until its cessation, in January, 1711, when the establishment of " The Spectator," in the following March, again called into play his unequalled powers as an essayist. Of this publication we shall, at present, only observe that it was completed on the 6th of September, 1712, and that our author was careful to identify his papers throughout the whole by some letter in the name of the muse Clio. He also took a part in ''The New Spectator," which, however, failed, and to its suc- <3essor "The Guardian," he contributed several excellent papers, which are distinguished by a hand. In 1713, appeared his celebrated tragedy of Cato, which, with a prologue by Pope, and an epilogue by Dr. Grarth, was received, on its representation at the theatre, with the most extravagant applause. During a run of five-and-thirty nights, it received the unanimous applause of Whigs and Tories — the former lauding to the skies every line in which liberty was mentioned, as a satire on their opponents; and the latter echo- ing every clap, to show that the satire was unfelt. It would seeii., therefore, that party spirit, rather than the merit of the p'oce, was the source of its enthusiastic reception on the stage, whence it may now be considered as banished. As a poetical production, however, Cato afterwards raised its author to a very high rank in the literary world, and, besides being translated into French, Italian, and German, and acted by the Jesuit stu- dents at St. Omers, was attentively criticized by Voltaire, who, extravagant both in his praise and censure, declared the love- scenes contemptible, but the principal character superior to ,■^76 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. an J before brought upon the stage. Notwithstanding, however, the weight of authority in its favour, Cato is a composition- sufficiently bombastic and inflated to merit the fate of many of the performances which it has been fortunate enough to survive. Addison had already formed the design of composing an English Dictionary upon the plan of the Italian Delia Crusca : but, upon the death of Queen Anne, being appointed secretary to the lords justices, he had not leisure to carry on the work. On the Earl of Sunderland's becoming viceroy of Ireland, our author accompanied him to that country as secretary; and, on the removal of the earl, he was made one of the lords of trade. In 1715, he brought out "The Freeholder," a kind of political Spectator, in which he so successfully mingled reason with hu- mour, as to soften much of the party spirit which existed at the breaking out of the rebellion. About this time, he also pub- lished several poetical pieces — one of which was addressed to the Princess of Wales, with the tragedy of Cato, and another to Sir Godfrey Kneller, on the king's picture, in which he in- geniously adapted the heathen mythology to the English sove- reigns, from Charles the Second to George the First, inclusive. In 1716, he married the Countess of Warwick, to whose son he had been tutor ; but, although he had obtained her hand by a long and anxious courtship, this union, of which one daughter was the fruit, made no addition to his happiness, owing to the proud and jealous temper of the countess. In 1717, he at- tained his highest political elevation, being made one of the principal secretaries of state ; but, after holding the situation for some time, he solicited his own dismissal, and retired on a pension of X1500 a year. To the ill health under which he was labouring at this time, some have attributed his relinquish- ment of this office ; but the true cause was his unfitness for the details of business, and his senatorial deficiency as an orator — an objection to his preferment which he had himself previously started. After his retirement, he applied himself to the completion of 6ome religious works, in which he had been interrupted by his Dolitical duties ; but, before he could finish any of them, the asthmatic disorder, under which he had for some time suffered, increased with fatal symptoms and put an end to his life, at Holland House, Kensington, on the 17th of June, 1719. He JOSEPH ADDISON. 377 met his end with great calmness and resignation, and rendered his death-bed memorable by the solemn injunction which he delivered from it to his step-son, the young and profligate Lord Warwick. He had often before attempted to reclaim him, and now made a last effort by saying to him, as he approached his bed-side, " I have sent for you that you may see how a Christian can die. 49 378 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ELIZABETH ROWL. LIZABETH ROWE, the daughter of the Reverend Mr. Singer, a dissenting minister, was born at Ilchester, in Somersetshire, on the 11th of September, 1674. Music, paint- ing, and poetry, she cultivated at an earlj age ; and, in 1696, she published a volume of poems, "which gained some reputation, having previously composed a paraphrase on the thirty- eighth chapter of Job, at the request of Bishop Ken. She afterwards studied French and Italian, under the superintendence of the Honourable Mr. Thynne, son to Lord Weymouth, who was much cap- tivated with her person and abilities, which induced, among others, the poet Prior, to pay his addresses to her. She, however, in 1710, gave her hand to Mr. Thomas Rowe, but becoming a widow in 1715, retired to Frome, in Somersetshire, where she composed the most cele- brated of her works, " Friendship in Death, or Twenty Letters from the Dead to the Living." This was succeeded, in 1729, by '* Letters, Moral and Entertaining, in Verse and Prose;" and, in 1736, by her "History of Joseph, a poem ;" and, in the February of the following year, she died of apoplexy. Shortly after her death, Dr. Isaac Watts published her '' Devout Exercises of the Heart," with a preface, in which he highly commends them, for the sublime sentiments and elevated piety which they contain. In 1739, appeared her Miscellaneous Works, in Prose and Verse, in two volumes, octavo, with an account of her life and writings prefixed. The poetry of Mrs. Rowe is of a serious cast, and displays feeling, imagination, and taste; but, upon tlie whole, it is not deserving of a higher epithet than respectable. Her character was exceedingly estimable, and she enjoj^cd tht> friendship of some of the most eminent literati of her day GRANVILLE SHAPP. 379 GRANVILLE SHARP, OUNGEST son of Dr. Thomas Sharp, a pre- bendary of Durham, and grandson of Dr. J. Sharp, Archbishop of York, was born in 1734, and educated for the bar, but never practised his profession. He had a place in the Ord- nance office, till the commencement of the American war, when he took chambers in the Temple, and, soon afterwards, became known to the public by his philanthropic conduct and writings. A negro, named Somerset, who had been brought, by his master, from the West Indies, and turned into the streets, in consequence of illness, was placed, by Mr. Sharp, in Bartholomew's Hospi- tal ; and, on his restoration to health, established by his benefactor in a comfortable position. His former master, on ascertaining this, thought proper to seize him, and commit him to prison, as a runaway slave, when the subject of our memoir brought the case before the Lord Mayor, who decided in favour of the slave's freedom. His inhuman master, however, grasping him by the collar, and attempting to detain him, Mr. Sharp commenced an action against the former in the Court of King's Bench ; and the result was, by a decision of the twelve judges, that slavery could not exist in Great Britain. Thus encouraged, he continued his exertions in opposition to slavery, for the abolition of which he instituted a society ; and, about the same time, sent over, at his own expense, a number of negroes to Africa. Another instance of his public spirit was shown in his obtaining the release of a citizen of London, who had been impressed into the navy; to effect which, he procured a habeas ccrpus from the King's Bench, and himself addressed the court. He died, beloved and respected by all who knew him, July the 6th, 1813. 880 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. HUGH BLAIR. UGrH BLAIR, descended from Robert Blair, chaplain to Charles the First, and son of a merchant, who lost the greater part of his fortune in the South Sea scheme, was born at Edinburgh on the 7th of April, 1718. After having gone through a course of education at the high school, he, in 1730, entered the Uni- versity of Edinburgh, where he spent eleven years in the study of literature, philosophy and divinity. In the logic class he particularly ex- celled ; and his Essay on the Beautiful, a subject proposed by the professor, was highly applauded, and appointed to be publicly read. Having gradua- ted A. M. in 1739, he was, on the 23d of October, 1741, licensed to preach by the presbytery; and, in the September of the following year, he was presented t3 the living of Colessie, in Fifeshire. In July, 1743, he was elected minister of the Canongate Church at Edinburgh, from which he was translated, in 1754, in consequence of a call from the town council, to Lady Tester's Church, in the same city ; and, in 1758, to the first charge in the High Church, being the most honourable clerical situation in Scotland. In 1757, the University of St. Andrew created him D. D. ; at which time he had obtained great reputation as a preacher, but, as an author, had written nothing besides two sermons, and a few articles in a periodical work. In 1759, he prepared a course of lec- tures on composition, and delivered them with such success, that the university instituted a rhetorical class under his di- rection ; and the king founded a professorship of rhetoric and belles letters, in 1762, when Dr. Blair was appointed to the chair, with a salary of £10. About the same time he gave to the public his Dissertation on the Poems of Ossian ; in which^ HUGH BLAIR. 381 in one of the finest specimens of criticism ever produced, he zealously advocated their authenticity. In 1773, the first uni- form edition of the works of the British poets was published under his superintendence, and he also engaged in a new edition of the works of Shakspeare. In 1777, appeared the first volume of his Sermons, which Strahan purchased for <£100, on the recommendation of Dr. Johnson. They were succeeded by three additional volumes, for which he received .£1500, and he was further rewarded, at the request of Queen Charlotte, with a pension of £200 per annum. In 1783, he resigned his pro- fessorship, and published his Lectures on Composition, which contain an accurate analysis of the principles of literary com- position, in every species of writing, and an able digest of the rules of eloquence, as applicable to the oratory of the pulpit, the bar, and of popular assemblies. In the summer of 1800, he began to prepare an additional volume of his Sermons for the press, but did not live to publish them, his death taking place in the December of the same year. He had married, in 1748, his cousin. Miss Bannatine, by whom he had a son and a daughter, both of whom he survived, together with his wife. The Lectures and Sermons of Dr. Blair still continue to hold a high rank in public estimation, though the latter, from their general want of profundity, have been considered rather as treatises than sermons. They were, however, the first regular didactic orations that had been heard in Scotland, and have been justly described as occupying a middle place between the dry metaphysical discussions of one class of preachers, and the loose, incoherent ieclamation of another; and as blending together, in the happiest manner, the light of argument Avith the warmth of exhortation. The private character of Dr. Blair was, in every respect, that of the divine and the philanthropist: with eminent talents and inflexible integrity, he possessed a mind of the most unsuspecting simplicity; '^ which," says his biographer, Dr. Finlayson, "while it secured to the last his own relish of life, was wonderfully calculated to endear him to his friends, and to render him an invaluable member of every society to whiih he belonged." SS2 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. COLONEL GARDINER. AMES, the second son of Captain Patrick Gardiner, was born at Carriden, in Linlith- gowshire, on the 10th of January, 1688. Wlien fourteen years of age, he entered the army as ensign of a Scotch regiment in the Dutch service. At the battle of Ramillies, he ^^^' was one of those who composed the forlorn hope appointed to dislodge the French from a church- yard. On this occasion, he planted his colours on an advanced ground, and, while encouraging his men, received a shot in the mouth, which passed through his neck, without knocking out a tooth, or touching the fore part of his tongue. He remained on the field until the next morning, when a Cordelier mistaking him for a Frenchman, carried him to an adjoin- ing convent, where he was hospitably entertained and cured of his wound. He bore a share in almost ever}^ action fought by the Duke of Marlborough, in Flanders ; and, at the siege of Preston, in Lancashire, signalized himself by setting fire to the barricade of the rebels, in the face of their whole army, at the head of only twelve men, eight of whom were killed dur- ing the exploit. He was afterwards appointed master of the horse to the Earl of Stair, whom he accompanied to Paris ; where, fascinated by the temptations to which he was exposed, he gave himself up wholly to pleasure and sensuality. A strange circumstance, however, which befell him in 1719, although it was attended with no immediate effect, eventually changed the entire tenour of his conduct. After spending a Sabbath evening in gayety, he retired to his chamber at eleven o'clock, when his party broke up ; and, having an assignation with a married woman at twelve, he resolved to beguile away the intervening hour with a book. The work on which he COLONEL GARDINER SSg chancer! first to lay his hand, was entitled '' The Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm :" and he began to peruse it, under an idea that its contents would be amusingly absurd. Suddenly he thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall upon the book, which he attributed to some accident that had occurred to the candle ; but, on looking up, he believed that there was before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible representation of our Saviour on the cross, surrounded with. a glory; and he was impressed, at the sani^ time, with the idea that he heard words to this effect, "Oh I sinner, did I suffer this for thee, and are these thy returns ?" A faintness then came over him, and he fell into a chair, where he remained senseless, for a considerable time. This incident had so powerful an effect upon his mind, that at length he became as remarkable for sanctity of life as he had previously been notorious for debauchery and dissipa- tion. Religion, however, did not render him inattentive to his professional duties ; he was a strict disciplinarian, and watched over his men in the double capacity of a military as well as a spiritual director. In 1743, he was appointed colonel of Bland's dragoons, and commanded that regiment at the battle of Preston-Pans, in 1745. The day before the engagement took place, though much en- feebled by illness, he harangued his men in the most animat- ing manner ; and, on perceiving some timidity manifested by them, exclaimed, " I cannot influence the conduct of others as I could wish, but I have one life to sacrifice to my country's safety, and I shall not spare it." He continued all night under arms, Avrapped up in his cloak, and sheltered by a rick of bar- ley. At three in the morning he called his four domestic ser- vants to him, and addressing them in a pathetic tone of Christian exhortation, bade them farewell, as if for ever. " There is great reason to believe," says Doddridge, his spiritual friend and bio- grapher, " that he spent the little remainder of the time, which could not be much above an hour, in those devout exercises of the soul which had been so long habitual to him, and to which so many circumstances did then concur to call him." Early in the battle, which commenced before sunrise and con- tinued only a few minutes, he received a bullet in his left breast^ and soon afterwards another in his right thigh. He still, how- ever, though pressed to reti^eat, fought on, and some of 'he 384 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. enemy, it is said, fell by his hand. Deserted by his regiment, which he had in vain attempted to rally, he placed himself at the head of a party of foot, whom he had been ordered to sup- port, and who were bravely fighting near him, but without a commander. On riding towards them, he exclaimed, " Fire on my lads, and fear nothing !" These words were scarcely uttered, when a Highlander w^ounded him so severely in the right arm, with a scythe, that the sword dropped from his hand. While still entangled with his assailant's weapon, other insurgents came up and dragged him from his horse ; and one of these, the moment he fell, struck him a mortal blow, either with a broad- sword or a Lochaber axe, on the back of the head. He caught his hat as it dropped, with his left hand, and waved it to his servant as a signal to retreat, exclaiming, with his last breath, t' Take care of yourself!" Although the young Pretender, in going over the field, after the battle, is said to have gently raised this brave soldier's head, and to have exclaimed, '' Poor Grardiner ! would to God I could restore thy life !" yet, it is asserted, that the rebels treated his body with great indignity, and stripped his house, which ad- joined the scene of contest, of every article it contained. He was interred in the burial ground of Tranent, his parish church, at which he had been a constant attendant. By his wife, a daughter of the Earl of Buchan, he had eleven children, but only five survived him. His father died of fatigue at the battle of Hochstet ; his maternal uncle was killed at Steenkirk ; and his eldest brother, when only sixteen years old, fell at the siege of Namur. In person, Colonel Gardiner was strongly built, and well- proportioned; in stature, unusually tall; and in the expression of his countenance, intellectual and dignified. In calm heroism, he has never been excelled. He once refused a challenge ; but, so highly was he esteemed for courage, without any imputation on his character as a soldier. *'I fear sinning," said he, on this occasion, '^though you know 1 do not fear fighting!" The energy he displayed, notwithstanding his bodily infirmities, on the day preceding the fight, at Preston-Pans, his pious exhorta- tion to his domestics, his devotion before the battle, and his calm, unflinching bravery, during the contest, have thrown a vouiantic charm around his memory, by which it will, doubtless, COLONEL GARDINER. 385 be long and deservedly embalmed. In conversation he was cheerful, and eminently persuasive ; in disposition, exceedingly charitable ; and, in religious principles, though a strict dissenter, amiably tolerant to those who most materially differed from him in doctrinal points. The circumstance which led to his conver- sion from lewdness and impiety to enthusiastic devotion, may be easily explained without the intervention of supernatural agency. He had passed the evening amid the excitation of gay, and, per- haps, dissolute society ; he was about to transgress one of those holy ordinances, an obedience to which, the book that fell into his hands most probably enjoined; he had previously, at times, suffered most bitterly from the compunctions of conscience ; and, not long before, had been thrown from his horse with such vio- lence, that his brain, perhaps, was slightly affected by the fall : 'hese circumstances, acting on so susceptible an imagination as jrardiner appears to have possessed, may have produced that delusion of the senses, to which the happy amelioration of his conduct has been principally attributed. 388 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS ARCHBISHOP TENISON. HOMAS, son of the Reverend John Tenison, was born at Cottenham, in Cambridgeshire, on the 29th of September, 1636. He acquired the rudiments of education at the grammar- school of Norwich, w^hence, about the year 1653, he was removed to Corpus Christi Col- lege, Cambridge. He took the degree of B. xV. in 1657, and that of M. A. in 1660, during which year he obtained a fellowship. In 1662, he became tutor of his college ; and, in 1665, he vas chosen one of the university preachers, and •esented to the curacy of St. Andrew^ the Great. His conduct to the sick, when the plague broke out at Cambridge, was so exemplary and self-devoted, that, as a token of their admiration and gratitude, his parish- ioners presented him with a valuable piece of plate. In 1667, he took his degree of B. D., and became chaplain to the Earl of Manchester : from whom, about the same time, he ob- tained the rectory of Holywell, in Huntingdonshire. Shortly afterwards, he married Anne, the daughter of Dr. Love, master of his college. In 1674, he was appointed upper minister of St. Peter's Manscroft, Norwich. In 1680, he took the degree of D. D. ; became one of the royal chaplains ; and Avas presented by Charles IT. to the vicarage of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. In 1685, he attended the Duke of Monmouth to the scaffold ; on which occasion he deported himself, according to Burnet, with all the honest freedom of a Christian minister, and yet with such prudence as to give no offence. Although a zealous Protestant, he is said to have been much esteemed, on account of his integrity and abilities, by James II. ; to whose successors, William and Mary, he rendered himself particularly acceptable, by his moderation towards the dissent- . ARCHBISHOP TENISON. 387 ers. Soon after the Revolution, he was made archdeacon of London ; and, having displayed great zeal in a project, that was shortly afterwards brought forward, for reconciling the various Protestant sects to the established church, he was raised to the see of Lincoln, in 1691. It is related that Lord Jersey, then master of the horse, had endeavoured to prevent his eleva- tion to the episcopal bench, by reminding Queen Mary that he had preached a funeral sermon for the celebrated Nell Gwynn. <'I have heard as much," replied her majesty; "and it is a sign that the poor unfortunate woman died penitent ; for, if I can read a man's heart through his looks, had she not made a truly pious and Christian end, the doctor could never have been induced to speak well of her." In 1693, he was offered the archbishopric of Dublin ; which, however, he refused, because a measure, suggested by himself, and to which the king was favourable, of restoring to the respect- ive parish churches the impropriations of estates forfeited to the crown, could not be accomplished. In the following year, he was raised to the archbishopric of Canterbury ; a station for which, in the opinion of a majority of his contemporaries, he was eminently qualified. By her own desire, he attended Queen Mary during her last moments, and preached her funeral sermon. Taking advantage of the serious feelings, which the death of his consort produced in King William, Tenison boldly censured him for his immoralities ; and, in particular, protested with such energy against the monarch's illicit connection with Lady Vil- liers, that his majesty promised never to see her again. He officiated as primate at the coronation of Queen Anne, with whom he appears to have been by no means a favourite, although he had strenuously exerted himself to procure her a proper settlement in the preceding reign. He, doubtless, ren- dered himself obnoxious to her majesty, by his strong inclination for a Protestant succession ; which, in 1705, induced him to enter into a correspondence with the Electress Sophia. In 1706, he was chosen first commissioner for efi'ecting the union with Scotland ; and, on the death of Queen Anne, he was one of those who were appointed to take charge of the instrument, which gave the new monarch power to appoint a regency, until his arrival in this country. He did not long survive the coro- nation of George I., at which he officiated as primate; his death J88 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Dccurring on the 14th of December, 1715. He was buried in Lambeth church, by the side of his wife, who had died without fssue, in the preceding year. Archbishop Tenison published an able treatise, in opposition to the opinions of Hobbes; "Sir Thomas Browne's Tracts;" " The Remains of Bacon ;" "A Discourse on Idolatry;" a variety of ermons, and a number of tracts, in defence of the established church against popery. Of preferment, he appears to have been by no means ambitious. As a preacher, he was plain, but forcible ; and, as a writer, clear and argumentative, but never brilliant. The parish of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields is indebted to him for its library ; he rebuilt the chancel of Topcroft church, where his parents were buried ; and, after having been eminently beneficent throughout life, bequeathed at his death very con- siderable sums to charitable uses. Macky says that he was a plain, good, heavy man ; very tall; of a fair complexion ; and a great opponent of the progress of popery, in the reign of King James. Swift, doubtless under the influence of party rancour, terms him the most good-for-nothing prelate, and the dullest man he ever knew. The witty dean is also reported to have originated the saying, that " Tenison was as hot and heavy as a tailor's goose." On the other hand, Baxter regarded him with warm admiration; Burnet, ignorant of Swift's animosity towards him, declared that he had many friends, and no ene- mies ; Kennett speaks of him as having been exemplary in every station of life ; the anonymous author of his memoirs states that he was an exact pattern of that exemplary piety, charity, sted- fastness, and good conduct, requisite in a governor of the church ; and Garth, alluding to his elevation to the primacy, says: — Good Tenison's celestial piety, At last, has raised him to the sacred see. WILLIAM LAW 389 i WILLIAM LAW. ^ ARIOUS works of practical divinity were Q produced by this divine, but he is best known -i from having lived in the family of Mr. Gib- C bon, father of the historian Gibbon, which |7<' led to the introduction of some valuable III notices of his life, habits, and opinions, in the beautiful fragment of autobiography which the historian prepared. He was born in Northamptonshire, in 1686, went to Cambridge with a view of entering the If church, took the degrees of B. A. and M. A., was of Emanuel College, and in 1711 elected a Fellow. On the accession of King George I., he refused to take the oaths prescribed by act of parliament, and in consequence vacated his fellowship. It was soon after this that he entered the family of Mr. Gibbon, who resided at Putney. Here he continued several years, and his connection with the family became perpetuated to his death, in consequence of a design Avhich Miss Hester Gibbon, the sis- ter of the historian, formed, and executed, of retiring from the world in company with her friend Mrs. Elizabeth Hutcheson, and living a life of charity and piety, with Mr. Law for their chaplain. They fixed upon King's Cliff, the place of Mr. Law's birth, as the spot to which they retired, and there Mr. Law lived the last twenty years of his life, dying April 9, 1761. Mr. Law was the author of various works, in which he re- commends the exercises of a piety which approaches to the character of ascetic, and which it is almost impossible for any one to practise who is not in a great degree relieved from the necessity of attention to the ordinary business of life. The most popular of tbem is entitled "A Serious Call to a Devou' and Holy Life " 890 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JOHN HOWARD. HIS great philanthropist was born at Clap- ton, near London, in 1726. Of his earlj ife little is known ; but there is reason to believe that he received from his parents in- struction in the principles of the Christian religion. When quite young, he lost his mother; his days at school were limited, and he was apprenticed to a tradesman in London. The pursuits of commerce were not congenial to his taste ; nor was his health such as could sustain systematic confinement to the counting-house. The leath of his father aiforded him an opportunity to leave the situation, and, after taking possession of his patrimony, he entered upon a course of reading and travel, two things of which he was passionately fond. Having spent two years in France and Italy, he returned to England, and fixed his residence near by London. Here he married, and soon afterwards entered upon some schemes of benevolence, every way worthy the future philan- thropist. After a happy union of three years, his wife was parted from him by death, and, to divert his thoughts from the loss, he resolved on another tour upon the Continent. In No- vember, 1755, the month and year in which Mrs. Howard died, Lisbon was desolated by an earthquake, and thousands of the Inhabitants reduced to poverty. The heart of Howard was wrung by the accounts received concerning these unfortunate persons ; but, instead of driving the painful idea from his mind, he adopted the noble resolution of visiting Portugal to do what he coukl for the sufferers. Howard embarked for Lisbon (1756) in the Hanover. The vessel had scarcely cleared the Thames, when it was encoun- tered by a French vessel, captured, and its prisoners thrown JOHN HOWARD 391 into the hold. After much suffering, they were put ashore at Brest, imprisoned in the castle, and, during six days, exposed to the rage of thirst and hunger. At the end of that time, Howard, with several others, was sent to Morlaix, and thence to Carpaix ; but he bore his sufferings with so much fortitude as to enlist many Frenchmen in his favour, and thereby attained a considerable amelioration of his condition. The remaining prisoners at Brest and Morlaix w^ere meanwhile suffering every extremity of distress. These places were the receptacles foi the English captured by French vessels. Hundreds of them perished by want or pestilence, and from one prison thirty-six dead bodies were thrown into a pit in a day. Intelligence of this was conveyed by letter to Mr. Howard. His heart bled at the sufferings of his countrymen ; he implored leave to visit his country, and, after a lapse of two months, permission was granted, on condition of his returning to France if the English government refused to exchange for him one of the French officers. On arriving at London, Howard immediately gave the go- vernment information of the condition of his captive country- men. His representations awakened the sympathy and excited the indignation of the nation. He received for it the thanks of parliament, and the interference in behalf of the prisoners at Brest and Carpaix resulted in a mitigation of their condi- tion, and perhaps the saving of many lives. In 1758, Howard again married, his second wife being a daughter of Henry Leeds, of Cambridgeshire. He retired with her to Cardington, a small village fifty-six miles from London. There he spent seven years, surrounded by the various fascina- tions of a rural life, and devoting his time to reading, garden- ing, and the exercise of benevolence. This peaceful seclusion was broken upon by death. Howard wept over the grave of his second partner, and of the spell w^hich had bound him to the cottage-home of Cardington, no part remained save an infant son. On this boy Howard now concentrated his affections. He taught him to read, carried or led him to church, and in- structed him in the elements of religion. When the child was five years old, he was placed under the instructions of an aunt, and a few^ years later placed at school. During this time, his vacations were spent at Cardington, and, until the time of en- 392 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. tering college, he manifested for his father an affection as pleas- ing in himself as honourable to his parent. After his wife's death, and during the infancy of his son, Howard spent a large portion of his time in travelling upon the Continent. His journeys were not idle rambles, nor means of dissipation and folly. Everywhere he sought opportunities of doing good, and his soul appears to have been pervaded with a deep sense of unworthiness, and a desire to do good to others. "0 my soul," he wrote in Italy, ''keep close to God in the amiable light of redeeming love, and, amid the snares thou art particularly exposed to in a country of such wickedness and folly, stand thou in awe and sin not ; commune with thine own heart ; see what progress thou makest in thy religious journey. Art thou nearer the heavenly Canaan ? Is the vital flame burning clearer and clearer ? Or are the concerns of a moment engrossing thy foolish heart ? Stop : remember thou art a candidate for eternity ; daily fervently pray for wisdom ; lift up your heart and eyes to the Rock of Ages, and then look down on the glory of this world. A little while and thy journey will be ended." Never, perhaps, did uninspired pen approach nearer the style and spirit of St. Paul. In the same style he spoke of the corruption of his heart. ^'AYhen I consider and look upon my heart, I doubt, I tremble. Such a vile creature — sin, folly, and imperfection in every action — 0 dreadful thought I — a body of sin and death I carry about me, ever ready to depart from God, and, with all the dreadful catalogue of sins committed, my heart faints within me and almost de- spairs. * * =^ Shall I limit," he afterwards adds, " the grace of God ? Can I fathom his goodness ? Here,* on his sacred day, I once more, in the dust, before the eternal God, acknow- ledge my sins heinous and aggravated in his sight. I would have the deepest sorrow and contrition of heart, and cast my guilty and polluted soul on thy sovereign mercy in the Re- deemer. 0 compassionate and divine Redeemer, save me from the dreadful guilt and power of sin, and accept of my solemn, free, and, I trust, unreserved, full surrender of my soul, my spirit, my dear child, all I have and am into thy hands." These extracts exhibit the cause and the support of that spirit of phi- lanthropy which has excited the wonder of the civilized world. After returning to Enirland. Howard was, in 1778, rnado .TOHX HOWARD. 393 High SlierifF of Bedfordshire. He, in common with man}^ good men, had long believed that the inmates of the public prisons were exposed to extremes of want and suffering. His office en- abled him to inquire into the matter, and the result of the in- quiry must have shocked a mind framed as was his. Details of those dens of crime and lingering death, the prisons of Eu- rope, would sicken the attentive reader ; but a glance at some of the enormities perpetrated upon the victims, may impart a faint idea of their condition. Of the miserable pit'tance of bread they were, to a great extent, deprived by the rapacity of the jailors, who, being brutes in human form, could look with cold indifference upon the writhings of agony or the gaspings of hunger. Some lay on the damp ground ; some on straw, matted and baked with filth ; some in corners, whose loathsome- ness may not be mentioned ; all raging with the pangs of thirst and hunger. Jail fever, that boon to the wretched prisoner, swept them away by scores. The stench of corpses ; the dank, pestilential air ; the dampness of the dungeon walls ; deprived others of the use of their limbs and of reason. In some places the prison-grounds were saturated with stagnant water. In one prison it was customary to chain the prisoners on their backs upon the floor by an iron-spiked collar around the neck, and a heavy bar over the extremities. Men accused of murder, and men acquitted of all crime, the highway robber, and the debtor to five shillings ; those who had defrauded of millions, and those who could not pay the jailor a freedom-fee ; the dis- eased, the maniac, the broken-hearted ; were mixed and min- gled together. Such was the operation of the British prison system, when Howard became High Sheriff of Bedfordshire. He shuddered at the misery ; he resolved to ameliorate it, and in one year he visited the various prisons of the United Kingdom, consoling and aiding the captives, noting down faithful records of their sufferings, and forming a plan for a thorough reformation of the prison system. His attention was next directed to the Con- tinent. In April, 1775, he went to France, and thence to Flanders, Holland, and Germany, visiting in his route hundreds of prisons, and noting down his observations, as he did in Eng- land. '^With the utmost difficulty," he wrote from German}^ *' did I get access to many dismal "abodes, and, through the 60 394 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. hand of God, I have been preserved in health and safety. Though conscious of the utmost weakness, imperfection, and follv, I would hope my heart deceives me not when I say to my friend, I trust I intend well. The great example — the glo- rious and divine Saviour — the first thought humbles and abases ; yet, blessed be God, it exalts and rejoices in that infinite and boundless source of love and mercy." On his return to England, Howard prepared his great work oh '' Th*e State of the Prisons in England and AYales." In this book he describes, as Howard only could describe, the suffer- ings of the prisoners from want of food : the loss of health and life, through impure air and accumulations of filth ; the jail fever ; and the evils of the system which caused jailors to de- pend for a living on money extorted from the prisoners rather than a regular salary. He denounced the English prison sys- tem as a disgrace to the country, showed how it might be re- medied, and that its improvement would benefit the country in a pecuniary degree, as well as on the score of humanity. This work was printed in 1777. It produced a deep sensation throughout the kingdom, and to its appearance we may refer the commencement of the great reform in English prison dis- cipline. His book was scarcely issued, when the author began anotlier tour of benevolence through Great Britain, and, in the remain- ing thirteen years of his life, we find him repeating that journey several times, and making five different journeys to the Conti- nent. When the plague broke out with fearful violence in the countries around Turkey, he fearlessly entered the sphere of its ravages, studied in every place, amid scenes and dangers which would have appalled the courage of the boldest soldier, and, in the character of a physician, personally administered relief to thousands. He left Enorlaiid for the last time in July, 1789, his object being to ascertain, if possible, the real nature of the plague, with a view of applying a certain remedy. He landed in Holland, passed through Germany and Prussia, and reached Moscow in September. All the prisons and liospitals in his way were flung open to him. "The hospitals," he wrote from Moscow, " are in a sad state. UpAvards of seventy thou- sand sailors and recruits died in them last year. I labour to convey tlie torch of philanthropy into these distant regions, as JOHN HOWARD. 395 in God's hand no instrument is weak, and in whose presence no flesh must glory. * * * My medical acquaintance give me but little hope of escaping the plague in Turkey ; but my spirits do not at all fail me, and, indeed, I do not look back, but would readily endure any hardships and encounter any dangers to be an honour to my Christian profession." Soon after writing this letter, Howard travelled several hundred miles through Russia, and reached Cherson on the Black Sea. His fame as a physician and a philanthropist had preceded him, and, among the numerous visits that he was called upon to make, was one to a young lady ill of fever. Her residence was twenty-four miles from Cherson. Howard went ; his efforts to save her life were vain, and he himself fell a victim to the disease, among whose ravages he had so long moved unscathed. He was buried by his own request about eight miles from Cherson ; but, under the epitaph of his Henrietta at Cardington, is graven another written by himself. It reads, <^^ -was not to be found among the fathers of New \^\^^ EnL^land. He had been chosen Hebrew professor cit Cambridge, by the heads of both houses, and ex- changed this branch of instruction to oblige Dr. WiU lianis, vice-chancellor of the university. He was well skilled in many oriental languages, but especially the Hebrew, which he knew by very close study, and by conversing with a Jew, who resided at the same house. He was also an accurate Creek scholar, and was made pro- fessor of this language when he left the other professorship. In Leigh's "Critica Sacra," there is a Latin address to the author by a friend, C. C, who is called FzV doctissimus, &c. It is a commendation of the work in a handsome style. This uncom- mon scholar became a preacher, and was settled at Ware. He displeased Archbishop Laud, by opposing the Book of Sports, and reflecting upon the discipline of the church. In Rushforth's Collections, there is this passage: "Mr. Chauncy, using some expressions in his sermons which were construed to his disad- vantage, ex. g. That idolatry was admitted into the church ; that the preaching of the gospel would be suppressed ; that there is as much atheism, popery, Arminianism and heresy crept in, &c." This being viewed as a design to raise a fear among the 424 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. people, that some alteration of religion would ensue, he was questioned in the High Commission ; and, by order of that court, the cause was referred to the Bishop of London, being his ordi- nary, who ordered him to make a suhmissioyi in Latin. This worthy man came over to New England, in 1638, arriv- ing at Plymouth, Jan. 1st. He was soon after ordained at Scituate. One thing is worth mentioning, to show the spirit of the man, and the quaint manner of expression tlien in use. His text was, Prov. ix. 3; Wisdom hath sent forth her maidens, and alluding to his compliance . with the High Commission court, he said with tears, -'Alas! Christians, I am no maiden, my soul has been defiled with false worship ; how wondrous is the free grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, that I should stilt be employed among the maideiis of wisdom !'' When a stop was put to the Laudean persecution, he was invited back by his former people at Ware ; and it was his intention to spend the remainder of his life in his native country. At this time the chair of the president was vacant at Harvard College. He was requested to accept it ; and for a number of years he performed the duties of that office with honour to himself, and to the reputation of that seminary of learninof. " How learnedly he conveyed all the liberal arts to those that sat under his feet, how constantly he expounded the Scriptures to them in the college hall, how wittily he moderated their disputations and other exercises, ]lo^\ fluently he expressed himself unto them, with Latin of a Terentian phrase, in all his discourses, and how carefully he inspected their manners, will never be forgotten by many of our most worthy men, who were made such by their education under him." When he made his oration on his inauguration, he concluded it thus, "Doctiorem, certe prsesidem, et huic oneri ac stationi multis modis aptiorem, vobis facile licet invenire ; sed amantiorem, et vestri boni studi- osiorem, non invenietis." He was very industrious, and usually employed his morning hours in study or devotion. He constantly rose at four o'clock, winter and summer. In the morning he expounded a chapter, in the Old Testament, to the students assembled in the chapel ; and in the evening expounded a passage in the New Testament. Every Sunday he preached a sermon, instead of the morning exposition. Yet with all his zeal, attention to his business and CHARLES CHAUNCY. 425 to his private studies, with his amazing application to every thing that was before him, he lived to be famous, and preached to much acceptance, at an age to which few reach, and they complain, "their strength is labour and sorrow." When hi3 friends advised him to remit his public labours, he answered, ^' Oportet imperato mori stantem." At length, on the commencement of 1771, he made a solemn address, a kind of valedictory oration ; and having lived to some good purpose, he prepared to die in peace, like a good ser- vant who expected his reward. He died, the end of this year, aged 82, having been about sixteen years pastor of the church in Scituate, and seventeen years president of Harvard College. He was a man very hasty in his temper : of this he was sen- sible, and took great pains to govern it. President Oakes, who was minister of the church in Cambridge, and succeeded him as head of the same literary society, preached his funeral sermon, and makes some apology for the quickness of his temper, — -^^the mention thereof was to be wrapped up in Elijah's mantle." President Chauncy left six sons, all of whom were educated at Harvard College. They were all preachers. Some of them very learned divines. Dr. Mather says, they were all eminent physicians, as their father was before them. In a new country, where there are no physicians, a minister, who is a scientific man, may render himself eminently useful if able to practise physic ; but we are not of the opinion of this gentleman that there ought to be no distinction between physic and divinity. One man had better not be engaged in more than his own profession. He may be learned in one thing, and superficial in another — a learned theologian and a quack doctor, as we have seen in modern times. ^ * ^ia -hiA and the two following notices we are indebted to Eliot 54 2jii! 126 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISlxANS. CHARLES CHAUNCY. life ASTOR of the first church in Boston, was a great-grandson of President Chauncy, and" had much of the genius and spirit of his an- cestor. He was born, January 1, 1705. His father, the youngest son of the Rev. Isaac Chauncy, Berry street, settled in Boston, as a merchant. Charles was only seven years old when his father died ; but had friends, who were -^ disposed to give him every advantage of education. Sp At twelve years old he was sent to Harvard Col- ~ lege ; was graduated, 1721, and considered as one of ' ^^ the best scholars who had ever received the honours of that seminary. It afforded great pleasure to wise and good men of those times, to see a descendant gf that president who had done so much honour to New England come into with such high recommendations ; and their hopes were As soon as highly gratified when he made divinity his study. Mr. Wadsworth was removed from the first church, to preside at Cambridge, the eyes of the people were fixed upon this young man, and he was associated with Mr. Foxcroft in the work of the ministry. He was ordained, 1727. Mr. Foxcroft and he were colleague pastors for about forty years. After the death of his colleague, he performed the whole parochial duty nearly ten years. In June, 1778, the Rev. Mr. John Clark was settled with him, whom he treated as a son, and who was always sensi- ble of liis paternal regards. i>] . Chauncy was one of the greatest divines of New England; no one except President Edwards, and the late Dr. Mayhew, has been so much known among the literati of Europe, or printed more books on tlieological subjects. He took great delight in studying the Scriptures. Feeling the sacred obliga- CHARLES CHAUNCY. 427 tions of morality, lie impressed them upon the minds of others in the most rational and evangelical manner. When he preached upon the faith of the gospel, he reasoned of righteousness, tem- perance and a judgment to come. It was said that he wanted the graces of delivery, and taste in composition. But it was his object to exhibit the most sublime truths in simplicity of speech, and he never, therefore, studied to have his periods polished, or his style adorned with rhetorical figures. His favourite authors were, Tillotson of the Episcopal church, and Baxter among the Puritans. For he preferred the rich vein of sentiment in the sermons of the English divines, to that tinsel of French declamation so fashionable in our modern way of preaching. Upon some occasions, however. Dr. Chauncy could X'aise his feeble voice, and manifest a vigour and animation which would arrest the attention of the most careless hearer, and have a deeper effect than the oratory which is thought by many to be irresistibly persuasive ; at all times, he was argu- mentative and perspicuous, and made an admirable practical use of the sentiments he delivered. But it is as an author we are chiefly to view Dr. Chauncy in this biographical sketch. His clear head, his quick conception, and comprehensive view of every subject enabled him to write with ease and propriety. However quick, and sudden, and un- guarded in his expressions when discussing things in conversa- tion, he reasoned coolly in all his controversial writings. His ideas were so well arranged, and he had such a command of them, that he managed every subject with equal candour, liber- ality, fairness, and skill. In the episcopal controversy he obtained great celebrity. He first began this in a " sermon upon the validity of presbyterian ordination," preached at the Dudleian lecture, at Cambridge, 1762. In 1767. he wrote his remarks upon a sermon of the Bishop of Llandaff. In 1771 he printed a complete view of episcopacy in "the two first centuries." Besides these, he had a particular controversy upon the subject of the American episcopate. He wrote '« An Appeal to the Public answered in behalf of Non-episcopal Churches," when Dr. Chand- ler of Elizabethtown, offered his ''Appeal to the Public," in favour of episcopal churches. To this Dr. Chandler wrote an answer, styled, " The Appeal defended," kc. Dr. Chauncy made 428 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. a reply to ^' The Appeal defended," and to this Dr. Chandler also replied in another large pamphlet. In the Whitefieldian controversy, Dr. Chauncy discovered more zeal than in his other works. In 1742, and 1743, he published a <' sermon on the various gifts of ministers;" one upon "enthusiasm," and another on the "outpourings of the Holy Ghost;" he also printed an "account of the French pro- phets," and "Seasonable Thoughts upon the State of Keligion." At the time of the great revival of religion, there were certain things of a dangerous tendency mingled with it, which the Dr. saw fit to correct. It makes an octavo volume in five parts, and by the list of subscribers, we find he was encouraged by many worthy ministers who differed from him in their doctrinal senti- ments. His other large works are, " Twelve Sermons on Season- able and Important Subjects," chiefly on justification, in opposi- tion to the opinion of Robert Sandiman, 1765 ; the " Mystery hid from Ages, or the Salvation of all Men ;" and " Dissertations upon the Benevolence of the Deity;" these were printed in 1784, and the next year he printed a volume " On the Fall of Man and its Consequences." In 1742, he received his diploma from the university of Edin- burgh, the first from that seminary to an American divine. He was also one of the London board of commissioners for pro- pagating the gospel among the Indians ; and a corresponding member of the board in Scotland. His health, cheerfulness, activity and the powers of his mind continued to old age. He died February- 10, 1787. Mr. Clarke preached his funeral sermon. EZRA STILES. 120 EZRA STILES. ZRA Stiles, President of Yale College, was the son of the Rev. Isaac Stiles of North Haven, Connecticut. He entered college in 1742, and was distinguished among the stu- dents for his bright genius, his intellectual accomplishments, his moral virtues, and the suavity of his manners. When he received the honours of the seminary in New Haven, in 1746, he was esteemed one of the greatest scholars it had ever produced. He first commenced his course of life with the study and practice of the law. He afterwards thought it his duty to preach the gospel ; and settled at Newport, as pastor of the second church, where he continued from 1755 to 1776. During this, and several succeeding years, the enemy were in posses^ sion of Newport ; and the inhabitants of the town scat- Dr. Stiles was solicited to preach in several places, but he accepted the invitation from the church at Portsmouth to remove and settle with them. In this place he was universally admired. He has left acknowledgments of the kind attention of this people ; they indulged a pride in the relation which sub- sisted between them. They thought him the most learned man of the age, were willing to hear very long sermons, some of them very critical disquisitions ; because they flowed from the lips of Dr. Stiles. There were many polite families in the place. The doctor was a gentleman in his manners. His mildness, con- descension, fluency in conversation, entertaining and instructive mode of giving his opinion, endeared him to those who felt a reverence for his character. He had a kind of familiar inter- course which was very pleasing to all classes of people, especially the rising generation. He would excite their emulation and make them think favourably of themselves. Hence some have tered. 430 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. called him flatterer, which was not the case. His candid spirit, and a disposition to view every person in the best light, and to put the best construction upon every action, made him speak and act as though he coveted the good opinion of others, by addresses to th^ir vanity. But his acquaintance knew where to trace the cause. They had as high an opinion of his inte- grity as of his charity and affability. His private diary discovers his sincerity. In this he celebrates the virtues and accomplish- ments of persons who could make no return. He might betray want of judgment, in some instances, but cannot be accused of paying empty compliments ; he certainly had a greater know- ledo-e of books than of mankind. In 1778, he was chosen president of Yale College, to the great disappointment of the Portsmouth church. They wished to fix him as their pastor. But this election gave pleasure to the friends of science. The plain language of Dr. Chauncy ex- pressed the wish of the public, while it declared the opinion of the Boston association : <' I know of none," said he, *' but who rejoice at the election to the presidency, and unite in the opinion that you are loudly called to accept the appointment." On the 8th of July, 1778, he was inducted into the office. In this conspicuous orb he shone with uncommon lustre a number of years, Avas an honour to the college and his country, and left a name worthy of everlasting remembrance. He died on the 12th of May, 1795,- aged (38. His character is delineated in the public papers, and in seve- ral sermons ; memoirs have also been printed by Dr. Holmes, in an octavo volume, entitled " Life of President Stiles," which is a very interesting and very useful work, containing many en- tertaining anecdotes, biographical sketches, and much literary information, besides a minute and very just account of the presi- dent. Dr. Stiles had every literary honour which his country could bestow upon him, was a member of many learned societies abroad, and was the intimate friend and correspondent of the first characters in Europe and America. His publications are not numerous. They are known in the learned world, and con- sist of philosophical essays and historical narratives,* but chiefly sermons and theological tracts. * See Dr. Holmes's book. PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 431 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. HILIP DODDKIDGE, the twentiM child of an oilman, in London, whose father had been ejected from the rectory of Shepperton by the act of uniformity, was born on the 26th of June, 1702. For some hours after i his birth, he exhibited no signs of life ; and ^ his relatives doubted the possibility of his sur- viving the usual perils of infancy. His health continued to be so remarkably delicate through ife, that on every recurrence of his birthday, after he had arrived at years of discretion, he ex- pressed his astonishment at having been so long preserved. His mother taught him some portion of --^y Scripture history, before he could read, by means of the figured Dutch tiles which ornamented the chimney of her apartment. He became an orphan at an early age, and his guardian basely dissipated the little fortune which his father had bequeathed him ; so that, while yet a mere boy, he found himself utterly destitute. At this time, he was study- ing at a private school at St. Alban's; and, fortunately, his application and pious deportment had attracted the notice of Dr. Clarke, a dissenting minister of that place, who kindly charged himself with the conduct and expense of his further education. In 1716, he began to keep a diary, in which he regularly accounted for every hour of his time. It was his custom, at this period, although only fourteen years of age, to visit the poor, and discourse with them on religious subjects, occasionally administering to their necessities out of his own slender allow- ance. In 1718, he went to reside with his sister, at Ongar, in Essex ; and his uncle, who was steward to the Duke of Bedford, Roon afterwards procured him the notice of some members of 432 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. that nobleman's family. The duchess liberally offered to sup- port him at the university, and to procure him preferment in the church, if she should live until he had taken orders ; but Doddridge felt compelled to decline this kind proposal, on account of his scruples as to the thirty-nine articles. In the attainment of his favourite object, that of becoming a dissenting preacher, he met with serious obstacles. "I waited," he says, "on Dr. Edmund Calamy, to beg his advice and assistance, that I might be brought up a minister, which was always my great desire. He gave me no encouragement in it, but advised me to turn my thoughts to something else." He received this advice with great concern, but resolving "to follow Providence, and not to force it," he was soon after- wards about to embrace an advantageous opportunity of enter- ing upon the study of the law ; but before coming to a final resolution on the subject, he devoted one morning to earnest solicitation for guidance from the Almighty ; and while thus engaged, a letter was brought to him from Dr. Clarke, in which his benefactor offered to advance him to the pastoral office. Regarding this communication, to use his own words, "almost as an answ^er from Heaven," he hastened to St. Alban's; whence, after passing some time with his generous friend, he removed, in October, 1719, to a dissenting academy, kept by Mr. John Jennings, at Kibworth, and afterwards at Hinckley, in Leicestershire, where he pursued his studies with extraordi- nary diligence and success ; being not only ardent, but admi- rably methodical in his pursuit of knowledge. The notes which he made on Homer, it is said, would be sufficient to fill a very large volume ; and he enriched an interleaved copy of the Bible with a vast quantity of extracts and observations, elucidatory of the text, from the works of many eminent divines. While thus occupied, he found, as he states, " that an hour spent every morning in private prayer and meditation gave him spirit and vigour for the business of the day, and kept his temper active, patient, and calm." Among his private papers, written about this period, was a solemn pledge to devote himself, his time, and his abilities, to the service of religion, (which it appears he read over once a week, to remind him of his duty,) and a set of rules for his general guidance. By these, he enforced upon himself the PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 433 necessity of rising early ; of returning solemn thanks for the mercies of the night, and imploring Divine aid through the busi- ness of the day ; of divesting his mind, while engaged in prayer, of every thing else, either external or internal ; of reading the Scriptures daily ; of never trifling with a book with which he had. no business ; of never losing a minute of time, or incurring any unnecessary expense, so that he might have the more to spend for God ; of endeavouring to make himself agreeable and useful, by tender, compassionate, and friendly deportment ; of being very moderate at meals; and of never delaying any thing, unless he could prove that another time would be more fit than the present, or that some other more important duty required his immediate attention. In July, 1722, being then in the twentieth year of his age, he began his ministerial labours as preacher to a small congre- gation at Kibworth, where he describes himself, in answer to a friend who had condoled with him on being almost buried alive, as freely indulging in those delightful studies Avhich a favour- able Providence had made the business of his life. " One day,'* added he, ''passeth away after another, and I only know that it passeth pleasantly with me." In 1727, he was chosen assistant preacher at Market Har- borough, and received invitations to accept other more import- ant pastoral stations, which, however, he declined. In 1729, by the solicitation of Dr. Watts and others, but with some reluctance, he formed an establishment for the education of young men who were designed for the ministry. The dissenters of Northampton soon afterwards earnestly solicited him to be- come their pastor ; but he refused to quit his congregation, dreading, as he states, to engage in more business than he was capable of performing ; and, on a repetition of their request, preached a sermon to them from the following text : — " And when he would not be persuaded, we ceased, saying, the will of the Lord be done." (Acts xxi. 14.) On returning from chapel, he passed through a room of the house where he lodged, in which a child was reading to his mother. " The only words I heard distinctly,''* says Doddridge, "were these: — 'And as thy days, so shall thy strength be.' Still I persisted in my refusal." His resolution was, however, at length overcome, and he removed to Northampton on the 24th of December, 1729. His 55 2 0 434 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS ordination, uith the usual ceremonies, took place in March, 1730 , and, in the following December, he married a lady named Maris. On this occasion, he drew up the following rules for his conduct as a husband: — ' profess it, it will still be to him that they are indebted for the means whereby they have acquired it : and long, very • long,. ROBERT MORRISON. 561 will it be before there shall be found among them one whose knowledge of China and Chinese literature shall be as extensive and solid as his — one whose mind shall have been as thorough- ly saturated with Chinese lore ;" to which might have been added, "and one whose unfeigned piety and domestic and so- cial virtues were as conspicuous and indisputable as were those of the late estimable and lamented Dr. Robert Morrison." From his first appearance in China he seems to have availed himself of that most important means of acquainting the heathen with one of the elementary principles of Divine reve- lation— the observance of the Sabbath-day. As a servant of the company, he had only lodgings at Canton, where he spent the portion of the year devoted to trade, and a house at Ma- cao, where he resided generally for the larger portion of the year : both these residences were used by him as chapels, in which he performed religious worship, and preached usually four times in the day ; twice in English, to such of his country- men as Avould attend, and twice in Chinese, to his Chinese servants and others. The effect of his Chinese sermons appears to have been the conversion of a few natives of the empire to Christianity, who have been at different periods baptized by him into the Christian faith, and, inclusive of Leang-a-fa, five of them have been destined to the missionary service. He also kept a school for Chinese children in his house at Macao, em- ploying Chinese preceptors, and giving them presents to induce them to send their children. In 1832, he lent his powerful aid to the objects of the Tem- perance Society, and patronised a tea and coffee shop in Canton, to which the British sailors in the port were, by public adver- tisement, invited to resort, in preference to those houses where ardent spirits were sold, and used much to the prejudice of the morals of those who partook of them. In the same year he opened the floating chapel at Macao, which had been fitted up chiefly by the exertions of the Ameri- cans who frequented the port. There is a portrait of Dr. Morrison, from a painting made by Chinnery, at the request and expense of the company's ser- vants and others at the factory, which gives a very correct rep- resentation of his person. His face was remarkable for a 71 562 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. smiling aspect, a quick, full eye, and the abundance of dark- coloured hair with which it was surrounded. His engagements through life had been such as to induce a habit of economizing time, and to prevent much of that inter- course with society which he would otherwise have enjoyed. When in company, his address was mild and gentlemanly, but his desire that all his intercourse should tend to mental improve- ment, manifested itself in an utter disinclination to join in fri- volities; and when conversation appeared to take that turn, he usually availed himself of the earliest opportunity of withdraw- ing from it. From his own family, and among his children, he derived the greatest delight ; with them he was playful as a child, and embraced every occasion to instruct and to enlarge the sphere of their information. They were his companions and his correspondents, even at the very earliest age at which they were capable of becoming so, and their attachment to him was proportionably ardent.* ♦ For the above memoir we are indebted to the "Animal Biography." GEORGE LORD LYTTELTON 563 GEORGE LORD LYTTELTON. EORGE, the eldest son of Sir Thomas Lyttel- ton, of Hagley, in Worcestershire, was born in 1709. He received his education at Eton, where his early proficiency attracted notice, and his exercises were recommended as models. On leaving Eton, he was placed at Christ Church, Oxford. While at college, he first soli- cited public attention by a poem on the battle of Blenheim. He was, indeed, a precocious and verse. iter, both in prose His " Persian Letters," as well as his "Progress of Love," were composed in early youth, and they both exhibit the characteristics of juvenility ; the '< Persian Letters," however, are ingenious and amusing ; although, in after-life, he deemed them altogether unworthy of his name, and was opposed to their being inserted in any collections of his works. Lyttleton did not long remain at the university. In 1728, he commenced his travels, and made the usual tour of France and Italy. On his return, in 1730, he entered the House of Commons as member for Oakhampton ; and, although his father was a lord of the admiralty, evinced the most uncompromising hostility to the minister, Sir Robert Walpole. Frederick, Prince of Wales, being, in 1737, driven from the palace of his father, George the Second, kept a kind of rival court, and gave a warm reception to the opponents of the government. Lyttelton was appointed his secretary, and he appears to have made a judicious and liberal use of his influence. Through his recommendation, Mallet was appointed under-secretary, and Thomson obtained a pension of XI 00 a year from his royal highness. Pope classed him among the patriots of the day ; and, in return, Lyttel- ton, on being upbraided by Fox for his intimacy with Pope, 564 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. whom Fox designated as an unjust and malignant libeller, Lyt- telton replied, that he felt himself honoured in being received inro the friendship of so great a poet. To the enjoyments derivable from fame and influence, Lyttel- ton now added those of the most perfect connubial felicity. In 1741, he married Miss Lucy Fortescue, and became the father of a son and two daughters. On her death, in child-bed, about five years afterwards, he wrote a monody, which is, perhaps, the best of his poetical productions. With his second wife, the daughter of Sir Robert Rich, to whom he was united in 1749, Lyttelton passed a few years in domestic strife, and a separation between them eventually took place by mutual consent. On Walpole's defeat, Lyttelton was appointed a lord of the treasury ; the duties of office, however, by no means absorbed his attention. It appears that he had in his youth entertained doubts of the truth of Christianity ; but having now turned hia more matured intellect and information to the study of that important subject, the result was, that he became a firm believer, and, in 1747, gave the world his excellent '* Observations on hhe Conversion of St. Paul." This treatise attracted immediate attention and applause ; but, probably, the praise which gave its author the highest satisfaction, was conveyed in the follow- ing letter from his father : — " I have read your religious treatise with infinite pleasure and satisfaction. The style is fine and clear ; the arguments close, cogent, and irresistible. May the King of kings, whose glorious cause you have so well defended, reward your pious labours ; and grant that I may be found wor- thy, through tlie merits of Jesus Christ, to be an eye-witnes3 of that happiness which I do not doubt he will bountifully bestow upon you ! In the mean time, I shall never cease glorifying God for having endowed you with such useful talents, and giving me so good a son." On the death of his father, in 1751, Lyttelton succeeded to the baronetcy and an ample estate. The house and park, with which he adorned his patrimony, raised him a great reputatiiii for elegant taste and judicious munificence. His improvements at Hagley are commemorated by Thomson in the " Seasons." Lyttelton gradually rose to higher distinctions in the state. In 1754, he was made cofferer and privy-councillor ; and, in the following year, obtained the important office of Chancellor GEORGE LORD LYTTELTON. 5G5 of the Exchequer, which, however, he resigned within a year, and, on the dissolution of the ministrj, retired entirely from public employment, with the honourable reward of a peerage for his services. His " Dialogues of the Dead," which are, perhaps, better known at the present day than any of his other productions, were published in 1780. Though certainly not profound, they are lively, judicious, and evidently the production of a man anxious to give every support in his power to virtue and refined senti- ments. His "History of Henry the Second," a work of great labour, research, and considerable merit, was Lyttelton's last contribution to literature, and occupied a large portion of his declining years. His anxiety with regard to the correctness of this production, appears to have been remarkable, even among the most curious Instances of fastidious authorship. The whole work was printed twice over ; many parts of it were passed three times, and some sheets four or five times, through the press. Three volumes of the History appeared in 1764, a second edition of them in 1767, a third in 1768, and the con- clusion was published In 1T71. Lyttelton's life was now drawing to a close. His appearance never betokened strength of constitution ; he had a slender frame and a meagre face : he lived, however, until the age of sixty-four. Of the piety and resignation that cheered his las^ moments, an Instructive account has been given by his physician After detailing the progress of the patient's disease, the writei says, " On Sunday, about eleven In the forenoon, his lordship sent for me, and said he felt a great hurry, and wished to have a little conversation with me in order to divert it. He then proceeded to open the fountain of that heart from which goodness had so long flowed as from a copious spring. 'Doctor,' said he, ' you shall be my confessor. When I first set out in the world, I had friends who endeavoured to shake my belief in the Christian religion. I saw difficulties which staggered me, but I kept my mind open to conviction. The evidences and doctrines of Christianity, studied with attention, made me a most firm and persuaded believer of the Christian religion. I have made it the rule of my life, and it Is the ground of my future hopes. I have erred and sinned, but have repented, and never indulged any vicious habit. In politics and public life, I have made 3B 560 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS public good the rule of my conduct. I never gave counsels which I did not at the time think the best. I have seen that I was sometimes in the wrong, but I did not err designedly. I have endeavoured, in private life, to do all the good in my power ; and never for a moment could indulge malicious or unjust de- signs upon any person whatever.' " He died on the 22d of August, 1773, and was buried at Hagley. Although certainly not eminent in the highest sense of the term, the talents and virtues of Lyttelton entitle him to a place among the worthies of his era. Consistent in public conduct, benevolent in disposition, and elegant as a writer, he presents a character which the mind contemplates with pleasure, though not with high admiration. It is probable, however, that, had jis powers been exclusively confined to literature, they were capable, with industrious cultivation, of raising him to a height in the scale of merit, which, at present, he cannot be said to have attained. Lord Lyttelton's son and successor, a man of some talent, but profligate manners, asserted, shortly before his death, that an apparition had not only warned him of his approaching decease, but had indicated the precise time when it would take place. It is said that he expired within a few minutes of the hour which he had mentioned as having been indicated by his unearthly visitant ; and, for a considerable period, this was con- sidered the best authenticated modern ghost-story extant. But it has lately been stated, that Lord Lyttelton having resolved to take poison, there was no miracle in the tolerably accurate fulfilment of the prediction he had promulgated. "It was no doubt singular," says Sir Walter Scott, in one of his amusing Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft, '• that a man who medi- tated his exit from the world, should have chosen to play such a trick upon his friends ; but it is still more credible, that a whimsical man should do so wild a thing, than that a m^s>*enger should be sent from the dead to tell a libertine at wha/ •'^ ^aise hour he should expire." BEILBY PORTEUS. 667 BEILBY PORTEUS. HIS eminent English prelate was birn at York in 1731. He passed several years at a small school in his native city, and when he was thirteen years old he was removed to a school at Eipon. From this place he went at an earlier age than usual to Cambridge, where he was admitted a sizar of Christ's Col- lege. His personal worth, united with his su- )erior attainments, both classical and mathe- tical, soon procured him a fellowship in his College, and by the active exertions of his friends was made esquire-beadle of the University. This he did not long retain, but he chose rather to give his undivided attention to private pupils. In 1757, at the age of twenty-six, he was ordained deacon, and soon after priest. He first became known as a writer by obtaining Seaton's prize for the best English poem on a sacred subject. On this occasion the subject was "Death," and the production of Mr. Porteus was universally deemed one of great merit. In 1762, he was made chaplain to Archbishop Seeker. His first pre- ferments were two small livings in Kent, which he soon resigned, and took the rectory of Hunton in the same county. He was next appointed prebendary of Peterborough, and not long after- wards, in 1767, he became rector of Lambeth. In the same year he took the degree of D.D. at Cambridge, and in 1769 was made chaplain to King George III., and master of the hospital of St. Cross near Winchester. In 1773, Dr. Porteus, with a few other clergymen, applied to the bishops, requesting that they would review the Liturgy and Articles for the purpose of making some slight alterations. In taking this step they proceeded in a temperate and respectful manner, and the answer declining to entertain the application. 568 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. which Archbishop Cornwallis returned in his own name and m that of the bench in general, was marked with great kindness. Dr. Porteus and his friends acquiesced in the decision of the- bishops, and thus the affair ended. In 1776, Dr. Porteus, without the least solicitation on his part, was made Bishop of Chester ; and in 1787, on the death of Bishop Lowth, he was promoted to the diocese of London, over which he very ably presided till his death. In 1798, he began a course of lectures on St. Matthew's Gospel, which he delivered at St. James's church on the Fridays in Lent, and which he afterwards published. These lectures have been per- haps the most popular of all his works. He died May 14, 1808, in the seventy-eighth year of his age. Though Bishop Porteus cannot be called a profound scholar or divine, he was a man of considerable learning and ability; and he pursued through life a steady course of pious exertion for the benefit of his fellow-creatures which procured him a high reputation among men of all parties. His works, consisting of sermons and tracts, with a "Life of Archbishop Seeker," and the poem and lectures already mentioned, were collected and published in 1811, in five vols. 8vo, with his Life, making another volume, by his nephew, the R/^v. Robert Hodgson, now Dr. Hodgson, dean of Carlisle HENRY MARTYN. HENRY MARTYN. ARTYN, known as The Missionary^ born 1781, died 1812. The short life of this amiable and zealous man may thus in brief be delineated. His birth was obscure. He was the son of a person who had been a labourer in the mines at Gwennap in Corn- wall, but who was probably a person of talent and virtue, as he raised himself to the situation of clerk to a merchant at Truro, in which town Henry Martyn was born. He had his education the grammar-school of Truro, and having ac- quired a considerable share of grammar learning, he for a scholarship in Corpus Christi College, ford; but failing in this, in 1797, he entered Saint College, Cambridge. Here he pursued his studies with such energy, that in 1801. he came out senior wrangler. During this period also his mind became directed with more than common earnestness to the truths of revelation. The death of his father is thought to have affected him at this period of his life so deeply as to have had no small share in turning his thoughts into the channel in which from this time they continued to flow; and not less the intimacy which at this time began with the Rev. Charles Simeon, the celebrated evangelical preacher in the University of Cambridge. He was chosen Fellow of St. John's, in March, 1802 ; but out of zeal in the cause of religion, he finally determined to devote himself to the work in which many of his countrymen had by that time begun to engage themselves, of propagating Chris tianity in nations which had not received it. There had been, it is true, a society in England associated for the purpose of propagating the gospel in foreign parts, but a new impulse and a new energy were given to such operations by the establish 72 3 b2 570 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ment of Missionary Societies, supported by the Methodists, the Independent Dissenters, and by the Evangelical party in the church. Mr. Martyn was not content with supporting this object by his influence at home, but he proposed himself to the African and Eastern Missionary Society as a person willing to undertake the duties of a missionary in the East, and finally embarked for India in 1805. It now became necessary that he should make himself master of the languages of the countries which he was about to visit ; and with what success he studied them is evidenced by the fact that he had the superintendence of the translations of the New Testament made under the instructions of the Missionary So- ciety, both into Persian and Hindustanee. He made also some progress in an Arabic translation. In his capacity of missionary he traversed large tracts both of India and Persia. After above five years' labour in these countries, his health began to decline, and it soon became manifest that he would see his native shores no more. He did however make the attempt to return ; but his strength wholly failing him, he was obliged to halt at Tokat, in Asia Minor, about 250 miles from Constantinople, where in a few days he died. The regrets in England which this event occasioned were great. Much was expected from him, and much would probably have been done by him in the cause to which he had devoted himself. As it was, he brought not a few both Hindus and Mohammedans to make profession of the Christian faith, and he caused the Scriptures to be ex- tensively dispersed among a people who had not previously known them. An interesting account of his life, compiled from various elour- nals left by him, was published by the Rev. John Sargent, 1819. FELIX NEFF. 571 FELIX NEFF. ELIX NEFF was born in 1798, and brought up bj his widowed mother in a village near Geneva. Like many other excellent men, he ' owed his first strong impressions to the effect produced bj maternal vigilance, and to lessons taught by female lips.' She laid the founda- tion, and the village pastor instructed him in Latin, history, geography and botany. Of the few books within his reach, Plutarch's Lives, and some of the unobjectionable volumes of Rousseau, ire said to have been his favourites ; the former, be- cause they filled his mind with the exploits of great nen ; and the latter because they encouraged the de- ^ht Vr'hich natural scenery, whether beautiful or grand, uted in him. His boyish aspirations were for military fame or for scientific research. When it was time for him to enter upon some way of life in which he could earn a subsistence, he engaged himself to a nursery-man and florist- gardener : and at the age of sixteen published a little treatise on the culture of trees, which was much praised for arrange- ment, its accuracy, and the habit of careful observation that it evinced. At seventeen, however, he entered as a private into the military service of Geneva, and "exchanged the quiet and hum- ble walk of the florist's garden for the bustle of the garrison." Two years afterwards he was promoted to the rank of sergeant of artillery ; and having obtained notice by his knowledge of mathematics, he made that science his study during his continu- ance in the army. That continuance was not long. But this second change of pursuit was occasioned by no fickleness or in- firmity of purpose. It is said that his ofiicers were jealous of the influence which he obtained over his comrades ; that he was too religious for them, and that they wished him out of the ser- 572 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. vice; — the serious turn of his mind in fact became so marked, that he was advised to quit it, and prepare himself for holy orders. Accordingly he quitted the array, and placed himself under proper instruction, after due deliberation and frequent prayer^ That he might the better mark, learn, and inwardly digest, the Scriptures, he made a concordance for himself, and filled the margins of several Bibles with notes. '^ Some of these are stiD in possession of his friends, and are consulted as the voice of one who being dead yet speaketh." His powers of acquirement and his aptitude for abstracted study were remarkable, and his conversation not less so ; it was prompt, easy, and agreeable, but always to the point, in short sentences, and in few words. He first assumed the functions of a pastor-catechist, and was ultimately called to the duties which he was so anxious to un- dertake, b} one of those Independent congregations of England whose ministers are received in the Protestant churches of France. He was ordained in London, in 1823, and, within six months after, was appointed Pastor of the department of the High Alps. In order to visit his various flocks, the pastor had to travel from his fixed residence, twelve miles in a western di- rection, sixty in an eastern, twenty in a southern, and thirty- three in a northern ; and Nefi* persevered, in all seasons, in pass- ing on foot from one district to another, climbing mountains covered with snow, forcing a way through the valleys, choked up by the masses of rocks that were hurled down by the winter's storm, and partaking ol the coarse fare and imperfect shelter of the peasant's hut. His first attempt at improving his peo- ple was to impart an idea of domestic convenience. Chimneys and windows to their hovels were luxuries to which few of them had aspired, till he taught them how easy it was to make a pas- sage for the smoke, and to procure admittance for the light and air. He next convinced them that warmth might be obtained more wholesomely than by living together in stables, from which the muck of the cattle was removed but once during the year. He taught them, also, how to cultivate their lands to advantage, and the proper remedies to be used in cases of sick- ness. He improved their manners, which had been so savage that the women had not been permitted to sit at table with their husbands or brothers, but stood behind them, and received FELIX NEFP. 573. morsels from their hands. He laboured hard to diifuse know- ledge among them ; and, with a view of providing proper teachers for these isolated tracts, he persuaded a number of young persons to assemble, during the most dreary part of the year, when they could not labour in the fields, and to work hard with him in the attainment of knowledge, which they were after- wards to spread among their neighbours. His unremitting labours finally destroyed his health, and he was obliged to quit the inclement district in which he had accomplished so much good. He lingered for some time in a debilitated state, and at length died at Geneva, April 12, 1829.* ♦ Encyclopaedia AmericaniL 674 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. WILLIAM WILBERFORCE. ILLIAM WILBERFORCE, whose name a heartfelt, enlightened, and unwearied phi- lanthropy, directing talents of the highest ordei", has enrolled among those of the most illustrious benefactors of mankind, was born August 24, 1759, in Hull, where his ancestors had been long and successfully engaged in trade. By his father's death he was left an orphan at an early age. He received the chief part of his education at the grammar school of PocklinfTTton, in Yorkshi^'e, and at St. John's Col- ^ lege, Cambridge, of whicl. he became a fellow-com- moner about 1776 or 1777. When just of age, and iparently before taking his B. A. degree, he was re- turned for his native town at the general election of 1780. In 1784 he was returned again ; but being also chosen member for Yorkshire, he elected to sit fov that great county, which he continued to represent until the year 1812, during six successive parliaments. From 1812 to 1825, when he retired from parliament, he was returned by Lord Calthorpe for the borough of Bramber. His politics were in general those of Mr. Pitt's party, and his first prominent appearance was in 1783, in opposition to Mr. Fox's India Bill. In 1786, he intro- duced and carried through the Commons a bill for the amend- ment of the criminal code, which was roughly handled by the Lord Chancellor Thurlow, and rejected in the House of Lords "without a division. At the time when Mr. Wilberforce was rising into manhood, the iniquity of the Slave Trade had engaged in a slight degree the attention of the public. To the Quakers belong the high honour of having taken the lead in denouncing that unjust and unchristian traffic. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, "WILLIAM WILBERFORCE. 575 during the life of Penn, the Quakers of Pennsylvania passed a censure upon it, and from time to time the Society of Friends expressed their disapprobation of the deportation of negroes, until in 1761 the^^ completed their good work by a resolution to disown all such as continued to be eno-ao-ed in it. Occasion- ally the question was brought before magistrates, whether a slave became entitled to his liberty upon landing in England. In 1765, Granville Sharp came forward as the protector of a negro, who, having been abandoned and cast upon the world in disease and misery by his owner, was healed and assisted through the charity of Mr. Sharp's brother. Recovering his value with his health, he was claimed and seized by his master, and would have been shipped to the colonies, as many Africans were, but for the prompt and resolute interference of Mr. Sharp. In several similar cases the same gentleman came forward suc- cessfully ; but the general question was not determined, or even argued, until 1772, when the celebrated case of the negro Somerset was brought before the Court of King's Bench, which adjudged, after a deliberate hearing, that in England the right of the master over the slave could not be maintained. The general question was afterwards, in 1778, decided still more absolutely by the Scotch Courts, in the case of Wedderburn v. Knight. In 1783, an event occurred well qualified to rouse the feelings of the nation, and call its attention to the atrocities of which the Slave Trade was the cause and pretext. An action was brought by certain underwriters against the owners of the ship Zong, on the ground that the captain had caused 132 weak, sickly slaves to be thrown overboard, for the purpose of claiming their value, for which the plaintiffs would not have been liable if the cargo had died a natural death. The fact of the drowning was admitted, and defended on the plea that want of water had rendered it necessary; though it appeared that the crew had not been put upon short allowance. It now seems incredible that no criminal proceeding should have been instituted against the perpetrators of this wholesale murder. In 1785, the yice-Chancellor of Cambridge proposed, as the subject for the Bachelor's Prize Essay, the question. Is it allowable to enslave men Avithout their consent ? Thomas Clarkson, whc had gained the prize in the preceding year, again became a candidate Conceiving that the thesis, though 576 LIVES OP EMINENT CHKISTIANS. couched in general terms, had an especial reference to the Afri- can Slave Trade, he went to London to make inquiries on the subject. Investigation brought under his view a mass of cruel- ties and abominations which engrossed his thoughts and shocked his imagination. By night and day they haunted him; and he has described in lively colours the intense pain which this composition, undertaken solely in the spirit of honourable rivalry, inflicted on him. He gained the prize, but found it impossible to discard the subject from his thoughts. In the succeeding autumn, after great struggles of mind, he resolved to give up his plan for entering the Church, and devoted time, health and substance (to use his own words) to "seeing these calamities to an end." In sketching the progress of this great measure, the name of Wilberforce alone will be presented to view ; and it is our duty therefore, in the first place, to make honourable mention of him who roused Wilberforce in the cause, and whose athletic vigour and indomitable perseverance sur- mounted danger, difficulties, fatigues, and discouragements, which few men could have endured, in the first great object of collecting evidence of the cruelties habitually perpetrated in the Slave Trade. In the first stage of his proceedings, Mr. Clarkson, in the course of his application to members of Parliament, called on Mr. Wilberforce, who stated, that "the subject had often em- ployed his thoughts, and was near his heart." He inquired into the authorities for the statements laid before him, and became, not only convinced of, but impressed with, the para- mount duty of abolishing so hateful a traffic. Occasional meet- ings of those who were alike interested were held at his house ; and in May, 1787, a committee was formed, of which Wilber- force became Parliamentary leader. Early in 1788 he gave notice of his intention to bring the subject before the House ; but owing to his severe indisposition that task was ultimately undertaken by Mr. Pitt, who moved and carried a resolution, pledging the House in the ensuing session to enter on the con- sideration of the subject. Accordingly, May 12, 1789, Mr. Wilberforce moved a series of resolutions, founded on a report of the Privy Council, exposing the iniquity and cruelty of the traffic in slaves, the mortality which it occasioned among white as well as black men, and the neglect of health and morals by WILLIAM WILBEKFORCE. 577 which the natural increase of the race in the West India islands was checked ; and concluding with a declaration, that if the causes were removed by which that increase was checked, no considerable inconvenience would result from discontinuing the importation of African slaves. Burke, Pitt, and Fox supported the resolutions. Mr. Wilberforce's speech was distinguished by eloquence and earnestness, and by its unanswerable appeals to the first principles of justice and religion. The consideration of the subject was ultimately adjourned to the folk)wing session. In that, and in two subsequent sessions, the motions were renewed, and the effect of pressing such a subject upon the attention of the country was to open the eyes of many who would willingly have kept them closed, yet could not den)' the existence of the evils so forced on their view. In 1792, Mr. Wilberforce's motion for the Abolition of the Slave Trade was met by a proposal to insert in it the word *' gradually ;" and in pursuance of the same policy, Mr. Dundas introduced a bill to provide for its discontinuance in 1800. The date was altered to 1796, and in that state the bill passed the Commons, but was stopped in the Upper House by a proposal to hear evidence upon it. Mr. Wilberforce annually renewed his efforts, and brought every new argument to bear upon the j[uestion, which new discoveries, or the events of the times, produced. In 1799, the friends of the measure resolved on letting it repose for a while, and for five years Mr. Wilberforce contented himself with moving for certain papers; but he took an opportunity of assuring the House that he had not grown cool in the cause, and that he would renew the discussion in a future session. On the oOth of May, 1804, he once more moved for leave to bring in his bill for the Abolition of the Slave Trade, in a speech of great eloquence and effect. He took the opportunity of making a powerful appeal to the Irish members, before whom, in consequence of the Union, this question was now for the first time brought, and the greater part of whom supported it. The division showed a majority of 124 to 49 in his favour ; and the bill was carried through the Commons, but was again postponed in the House of. Lords. In 1805 he re- newed his motion, but on this occasion it was lost in the Com- mons by over-security among the friends of the measure. But when Mr. Fox and Lord Grenville took office in 1806, the 73 3 C 578 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Abolition was brought forward bj the ministers, most of whom supported it, though it was not made a government question, in consequence of several members of the cabinet opposing it. The Attorney-General (Sir A. Pigott) brought in a bill^ which was passed into a law, prohibiting the Slave Trade in the con- quered colonies, and excluding British subjects from engaging in the foreign Slave Trade ; and Mr. Fox, at Mr. Wilberforcc's special request, introduced a resolution pledging the House to take the earliest measures for effectuall}^ abolishing the whole Slave Trade: this resolution was carried by a majority of 114 to 15 ; and January 2, 1807, Lord Grenville brought forward a bill for the Abolition of the Slave Trade, in the House of Lords, which passed safely through both houses of parliament. As, however, the king v/as believed to be unfriendly to the measure, some alarm was felt by its friends, lest its fate might still be affected by the dismissal of the ministers, which had been determined upon. Those fears were groundless ; for though they received orders to deliver up the seals of their ofiSces on the 25th of March, the royal assent was given by commission by the Lord Chancellor Erskine on the same day; and thus the last act of the admin- ■stration was to conclude a contest, maintained by prejudice and interest during twenty years, for the support of what Mr, Pitt denominated "the greatest practical evil that ever afflicted the human race." Among other testimonies to Mr. Wilberforcc's merits, we are not inclined to omit that of Sir James Mackintosh, who in his journal, May 23, 1808, speaks thus of Wilberforce on the "Abolition." Tliis refers to a pamphlet on the Slave Trade which Mr. Wilberforce had published in 1806: — "Almost as much enchanted by Mr. Wilberforcc's book as by his conduct. He is the very model of a reformer. Ardent without turbu- lence, mild without timidity or coolness, neither yielding to diiliculties, nor disturbed or exasperated by them ; patient and meek, yet intrepid; persisting for twenty years through good report and evil report ; just and charitable even to his most malignant enemies; unwearied in every experiment to disarm the prejudices of his more rational and disinterested opponents, and supporting the zeal, without dangerously exciting the pas- sions of his adherents.". The rest of Mr. Wilberforcc's parliamentary conduct was WILLIAM WILBERFORCE. 579 consistent with his behaviour on this question. In debatea chiefly political he rarely took a forward part; but where re- ligion and morals were directly concerned, points on which few cared to interfere, and where a leader was wanted, he nevei- shrunk from the advocacy of his opinions. He was a supporter of Catholic Emancipation and Parliamentary Reform; he con- demned the encouragement of gambling, in the shape of lotteries established by government ; he insisted on the cruelty of em- ploying boys of tender age as chimney-sweepers ; he attempted to procure a legislative enactment against duelling, after the hostile meeting between Pitt and Tierney ; and on the renewal of the East India Company's charter in 1816, he gave his zealous support to the propagation of Christianity in Hindostan, in opposition to those who, as has been more recently done in the West Indies, represented the employment of missionaries to be inconsistent with the preservation of the British empire in India. It is encouraging to observe, that with the exception of the one levelled against duelling, all these measures, however violently opposed and unfairly censured, have been carried in a more or less perfect form. As an author, Mr. Wilberforce's claim to notice is chiefly derived from his treatise entitled "A Practical View of the pre- vailing religious system of professing Christians in the higher ^nd middle classes in this country, contrasted with Real Chris- tianity." The object of it was to show that the standard of life generally adopted by those classes, not only fell short of, but was inconsistent with, the doctrines of the gospel. It has justly been applauded as a work of no common courage, not from the asperity of its censures, for it breathes throughout a spirit of gentleness and love, but on the joint consideration of the unpopularity of the subject and the ^vriter's position. The Bishop of Calcutta, in his introductory essay, justly observes, that "the author in attempting it risked every thing dear to a public man and a politician, as such — consideration, weight, ambition, reputation." And Scott, the divine, one of the most fearless and ardent of men, viewed the matter in the same light; for he wrote, <' Taken in all its probable efi"ects, I do sincerely think such a stand for vital Christianity has not been made ia my memory. He has come out beyond my expectations." Of a work so genei ally known we shall not describe the tendency 580 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS, more at large. It is said to have gone through about twenty editions in Britain, since the publication in 1797, and more in America; and to have been translated into most European languages. In the discharge of his parliamentary duties Mr. Wilberforce was punctual and active beyond his apparent strength ; and those who farther recollect his diligent attendance on a vast variety of public meetings and committees connected with re- ligious and charitable purposes, will wonder how a frame na- turally weak should so long have endured the wear of such exertion. In 1788, when his illness was a matter of deep con- cern to the Abolitionists, Dr. Warren said that he had not stamina to last a fortnight. No doubt his bodily powers were greatly aided by the placid and happy frame of mind which he habitually enjoyed: but it is important to relate his own opinion, as delivered by an ear-witness, on the physical benefits which he derived from a strict abstinence from temporal affairs on Sundays. "I have often heard him assert that he never could have sustained the labour and stretch of mind required in his early political life, if it had not been for the rest of his Sab- bath ; and that he could name several of his contemporaries in the vortex of political cares, whose minds had actually given way under the stress of intellectual labour, so as to bring on a premature death, or the still more dreadful catastrophe of in- sanity and suicide, who, humanly speaking, might have been preserved in health, if they would but conscientiously have observed the Sabbath." (Venn's Sermon.) In 1797, Mr. Wilberforce married Miss Spooner, daughter of an eminent banker at Birmingham. Four sons survive him. lie died, after a gradual decline, July 29, 1833, in Cadogan Place. He directed that his funeral should be conducted with- out the smallest pomp; but his orders were disregarded, in compliance with a requisition addressed to his relatives by many of the most distinguished men of all parties, and couched in the following terms: — ''We, the undersigned Members of both Houses of Parliament, being anxious, upon public grounds, to show our respect for the memory of the late William Wilber- force, and being also satisfied that public honours can never be more fitly bestowed than upon such benefjictors of mankind, earnestly request that lie may be buried in Westminster Abbey, WILLIAM WILBERFORCB. 581 ftud that we, and others who may agree with us in these senti ments, may have permission to attend his funeral." The at- tendance of both Houses was numerous. Mr. Wilberforce was interred within a few yards of his great contemporaries Pitt, Fox, and Canning. Among the other honours paid to his memory may be men- tioned the York meeting, held October 3, 1833, at which it was resolved to erect a public memorial in testimony of the high estimation in which Mr. Wilberforce's character and services were held by men of all parties : and further, " that it is advisable (if the sum raised be adequate) to found a benevolent institution, of a useful description, in this county, and to put up a tablet to the memory of Mr. Wilberforce ; but should the subscriptions be insufficient to accomplish such an object, that they should be applied to the erection of a monument." An asylum for the indigent blind has in consequence been founded. At Hull a monument has likewise been erected to his memory by public subscription; and a statue by Joseph is about to be placed in Westminster Abbey, also by subscription, the surplus of the fund thus raised being reserved for founding an institution con- genial to his principles, as soon «^ it shall be sufficient for the purpose. In 1838 a complete life of this eminent man was published by his sons, in five volumes. The letters, and other original matter of these volumes, are of the highest interest. 582 LIVE.S OF EMliNENT CHRISTIANS JOHN FREDERICK OBERLIN. OHN FREDERICK OBERLIN was born on the thirty-first day of August, 1740, at Stras- burgh, in Germany. From his childhood he was remarkable for his thoughtful and amia- ble disposition, and many anecdotes are told -^' of his infancy illustrating these qualities. His ^. father was poor, but he every week gave each of his children a penny to spend as they choose. Little Frederick kept alLhe received in a box, and when he saw by his father's face on a Saturday light that he could not pay the shoemaker, or the tailor, he would bring his treasure to help to make up the amount. Once when the box was nearly full of savings, he saw some malicious boys knock down a basket of eggs, which a countrywoman carried on her head. Sorry for the poor woman's loss and trouble, he ran home to the box, and gave the woman all he had in it. At another time, he saw an infirm old woman in a shop trying to get an article at a few cents below its price, which was more than all the money she had. Frederick waited until she left the shop in disappointment, then put the sum she wanted into the merchant's hand, whispered to him to call her back, and then ran away before she had time to thank him. His pious mother improved this beautiful disposition to the utmost, and to her he always acknowledged himself indebted for the love of the " Things that are Excellent," and the desires he afterwards felt to be the instrument of doing good. In the evening she assembled the family round a table, and while they endeavoured to copy pictures their father had drawn for tliem, she read aloud an instructive book. When they were about to separate for the night, thev seldom failed to ask for a hymn from dear mamma, and in tiie nymn and the prayer which fol JOHN FREDERICK OBERLIN. 583 lowed It they were led to him who said ^^ Suffer little children to come unto me." His father had seven sons, and he used to teach them the mili- tary exercises, of which Frederick became very fond ; but his father did not wish him to become a soldier, so he gave these up and attended more closely to study. He entered the univer- sity as a theological student, and while there, the preaching of an earnest minister had so great an effect upon him, that at the age of twenty he solemnly devoted himself by a written cove- nant to the service of God. When his studies were finished he was ordained a minister, but did not for seven years undertake any particular charge in that character, employing himself as a private tutor in the family of a physician, where he learned much of the art of medi- cine that was very useful to him in his future life. An appoint- ment as chaplain in the French army was offered to him in 1766, which he determined to accept, and he commenced preparations for the situation, when Mr. Stouber came to ask him to take charge of the Ban de la Roche. He found Oberlin living in the greatest simplicity, in a little room up three pair of stairs with scarcely any furniture ; being in the habit of dining at his father's and bringing thence a piece of bread which served for his supper. He accepted Mr. Stouber's invitation, and removed to Waldbach on the 30th of March, 1767, being then in the twen- ty-seventh year of his age. The Ban de la Roche takes its name from the castle La Roche, the Rock, around which the Ban or district extends. It is a mountainous region in the north-east of France, consist- ing of two parishes, one called Rothau, the other comprising five hamlets called Waldbach. This village of Waldbach, at which Oberlin resided, is situated on a mountain at the height of eighteen hundred feet, and the Ban presents th'^ greatest variety of temperature and productiveness, the parts on the tops of the mountains being intensely cold while the delights of spring reign in the valleys below. The district contains only about nine thou- sand acres in all, one-third of which are covered with w^ood. The winter commences in September, and the snow remains on the high grounds without melting until the succeeding May or June. So little vegetation is there on these heights that the peasants gay that a \^ oman can carry home in her apron all that her hus- 584 LIASES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. band can mow in a day. In the 17th century, this district was laid waste by the wars which were carried on in this part of France, and the poor people who resided in it were reduced to a wretched state, there being no roads from one place to another, and but little land cultivated. Their condition, however, gave them an exemption from the persecution which the Roman Catholics maintained against their Protestant brethren in other parts of France. A compassionate Lutheran minister named Stouber was so kind as to leave Germany in 1750, and come among these poor people, with the design of improving their condition. An anec- dote he relates will serve to show the nature of the task he now commenced and which Oberlin continued. He asked on his arrival to be shown to the principal school-house, and was led to a miserable cottage where a number of children were crowded together without any occupation, and in so wild and noisy a state that it was a matter of difficulty to gain any reply to his inquiries for the master. " There he is," said one, after he had obtained a little silence, pointing to a withered old man who lay on a little bed in one corner of the apartment. "Are you the schoolmaster, my good friend?" inquired Stouber. "Yes, sir." " And what do you teach the children ?" <' Nothing, sir." " Nothing ! how is that ?" "Because I know nothing myself." " Why then were you made schoolmaster ?" " Why, sir, I had been taking care of the Waldbach pigs for a great number of years ; and when I got too old and infirm for that employment, they sent me here to take care of the children." The other schools were in a similar condition, and the best of them were taught by shepherds, who kept flocks in the summer *nd taught the schools in the winter, trying to educate the young while they could not gather the meaning of what they attempted to read themselves. Stouber set about reforming the Bchools ; but to his great surprise he could not get any of the better class of people to permit their children to assume the JOHN FREDERICK OBERLIN. 585 office of schoolmaster, which was wholly sunk in contempt. To obviate this difficulty he* invented a new name, and was pleased to find the most promising of the young men willing to become superintendents of the schools. Their salaries were very smalL but a benevolent individual at Strasburg gave him three hun- dred and fifty dollai's, that the interest might be expended in rewarding the teachers whose pupils made the most rapid progress. Stouber next attempted to build a school-house, and waited on the praetor of Strasburg for permission to take the ne- cessary timber gratuitously from the forests in the neighbour- hood. This request was refused absolutely. Then Stouber^ who was a man of great readiness and tact, desired permission to make a collection for this purpose among charitable indi- viduals. This was granted without a word of objection. " Yv^ell then," said Stouber, presenting his hat, ''you are, please your excellency, known as a charitable person, and I will make the beginning with you." The praetor, in great glee at the manoeuvre, immediately gave him liberty to cut down as much wood as he pleased, on condition that he should dine with him every time he came to Strasburg. Stouber next had a battle with the ignorance and prejudice of the people, who began to fear that they would soon have to pay higher salaries to the teachers for all this learning, but they became more reconciled when they found their children able to read to them, and finally some of them came forward and desired that they too might be taught. The good pastor complied, and established schools for adults in the long evenings of winter. He gave them the Bible to read, and as he could not get more than fifty copies, he divided each into three parts, that one hundred and fifty persons might have the benefit of some part of the Holy Word. Seventeen years had been passed in these efforts, and scarcely any thing more than a beginning was effected, when Stouber was called to be the pastor of a church in Strasburg, which was not far off. He resolved to accept the call, and, as we have seen, chose Oberlin to succeed him at Waldbach. When Oberlin came among them their language was barbarous , they were shut up in their mountain homes by the want of roads, the farmers were destitute of the most necessary implements, 74 586 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. and the quantity of provisions they raised was not tiuffic.ent foi the wants of the population. For more than half a century, Oberlin laboured among them with zeal and patience, and firm- iiess and discrimination. He made of his parish a heaven upon earth. The language from an unintelligible jargon was altered into pure French, the manners of the people were refined, and ignorance banished without injuring the simplicity of character. The good pastor was assisted in his labours by many of the young whom he trained for the purpose ; from all the country round, children were sent to his schools, and to be "a scholar of pastor Oberlin" was a sufficient testimonial. Everybody, maids, children, poor and rich, called Oberlin, their "dear papa,'* and there never was a more complete father of a large family. The poorest of them seemed nearest his heart, and in them the strangers who visited this parish were not more surprised than delighted, to trace a large share of the spirituality, humility, and cultivation of mind that distinguished him. He taught them many things besides religious knowledge. The minds of all were polished by music, drawing, botany, geography and other studies of an elevating character. He prepared leather gloves for them at one time while a stranger was making him a visit, and frequently put a word in with the teachings of his eldest son, who was giving a lesson to some of the little ones. In his workshop was a lathe, a complete set of carpenters' tools, a printing-press, and a press for book-binding. He gave scarcely any thing to his people but what had been in some measure prepared by his OAvn or his children's hands. One stranger oaw him surrounded by four or five families that had been burnt out of their houses. He was dividino- amono; them clothes, meat, books, knives, thimbles and coloured pictures for the children, whom he placed in a row according to their ages, and allowed them to choose for themselves. "The most perfect equality," says a visitor, 'M-eigns in his house; children, ser- vants, boarders — all are treated alike ; their places at tablo change, that each in turn may sit next to him, with the ex- ception of Louisa, his housekeeper, who of course presides, and his two maids who sit at the end of the table. As it is his custom to salute every member of his family, night and morning, these two little maid« come very respectfully courtesying to him, and he alwayo gives them his hand, and inijuires after their JOHN FREDERICK OBERLIN. 587 health with good wishes. All are happy and appear to owe much of their happiness to him. They seem to be ready to sacrifice their lives to save his." He taught them to look upon the Lord as their father, " our father," he would say, and the dear Bible was the source of all his instructions. On Friday evenings he would have a service for those who understood German better than French, when he would preach in the former language, using the simplest form of words that every one could under- stand. Occasionally he would ask them if they were tired, or if he had said enough, and the answers came up in a gentle remonstrance from loving lips, "No, papa, go on — we should like to hear a little more." And he would continue his explana- tions of the word, until they ended the meeting by general consent. A traveller states that as he had the highest regard for his people, so he had the best opinion of their skill, and wondered that any one should doubt it. One day, when they were driven by a man who seemed to go on in a hazardous manner, this gentleman happened to say, ''Take care." Oberlin felt hurt at the admonition, both on account of the stranger and the driver. He assured the one that all was safe ; and at the end of the ride took the greatest pains to prevent or remove any feeling of vexation from arising in the mind of his parishioner. His peo- ple emulated him in his virtues, and strangers were sorely puzzled who thought to reward services so cheerfully rendered them on every Jjand. They would take no money, they had all they wanted, and they served only for love. For Oberlin they all entertained the deepest love and veneration, and they never met him without some extremely affecting demonstration of regard. In 1818, the Count of Neufchateau, speaking of the improve- ments Oberlin had effected in the cultivation of the soil, in a report to the Agricultural Society of Paris, says, "If you would behold an instance of what may be effected in any country for the advancement of agriculture and the interests of humanity, quit for a moment the banks of the Seine, and ascend one of the steepest summits of the Vosges mountains. Friends of the plough and of human happiness, come and behold the Ban de la Roche." In the years 1812, 1816, and 1817, he averted the horrors of approaching famine from his parish by his ex- 588 LIVES OP EMINENT CHRISTIANS. traordinary efforts and unabated exertions ; the new crop of potatoes that he had introduced giving subsistence to his people when they could harvest no corn. As a testimony of their gratification, a gold medal was presented to him by the Agri- cultural Society, and Louis XVIII. honoured him with a badge of distinction. As pastor, physician, farmer, mechanic, and schoolmaster Oberlin found a most devoted and able assistant in his pruden: and judicious wife, a young lady of Strasburg whom he married in 1768. She was to the women of the parish a model, which they might imitate with as much advantage as the men could do that of her husband. On her death, in 1784, the care of his household devolved on Louisa Schepler, an orphan who had been eight years in his family, and was then twenty-three years of age. She had been one of the most active conductors of the infant schools in Waldbach from their commencement. She was adopted as a daughter by "papa Oberlin," and resolutely re- fusing all offers of marriage, she devoted her life to assisting him in his labours, refusing to receive any salary or money, but living in his family as a friend, rather than a servant. Oberlin died on the first of June, 1826, being nearly eighty- six years of age and in the sixtieth year of his residence in Waldbach. The number of those who attended his funeral was so great that the head of the procession reached the church where the burial was to take place, before the end of it had left the house, two miles distant. His remains were committed to the grave amidst the deepest lamentation of the multitude, and the oldest inhabitant of the ban placed over it a cross prepared by direction of Louisa Schepler, on which was the simple in- scription— "Papa Oberlin." HENRY KIRKE WHITE. 58d HENRY KIRKE WHITE, ON of a butcher, at Nottingham, was born there, on the 21st of March, 1785. At the age of three years, he was placed at a female seminary, and by his attachment to juvenile literature, attracted the particular notice of his school-mistress, whom he has celebrated in ^r^v\ his poem of " Childhood." Even in his infancy, ^O his thirst for knowledge was so extraordinary ^/ that it required the most affectionate solicitations, and sometimes a degree of austerity, to induce him to be less constant in his application to study. At seven years of age, he used to employ himself unknown to his parents, in teaching the servants to read and write, and his own desire of receiving in- struction was not less remarkable, on his being put to school, about this time, with the Rev. Mr. Blanchard, at Nottingham. Here he learned the rudiments of mathematics and the English and French languages, and in all respects dis- played wonderful powers of acquisition. " When about eleven," says Dr. Southey, in his life of White, " he, one day, wrote a separate theme for every boy in his class, which consisted of about twelve or fourteen ; the master said he had never known them write so well upon any subject before, and could not re- fi-ain from expressing his astonishment at the excellence of Henry's." His schoolfellows considered him as a particularly cheerful, amiable, and even sportive companion; but having lampooned one of the ushers, he, in revenge, told our author's mother " what an incorrigible son she had, and how unlikely he was to make any progress in his studies." He was, in con- sequence, removed to the academy of Mr. Henry Shipley ; and, about the same time, he is said to have derived great gratifica- tion at being released from the degrading occupation of a 3D 590 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. butcher's errand-boy, in which he had hitherto been employed every market-day, and at other leisure times. His family, also, having removed to a more commodious house in the town, he was allotted a small apartment to himself, which he called his study. On attaining his fourteenth year, he was placed in a Btocking-frame to prepare himself for the hosiery line ; but be- ing averse to the occupation, he was subsequently articled to Messrs. Coldham and Enfield, attorneys of Nottingham. He devoted himself with steadiness to his profession du]'ing the day, and passed his evenings in the acquirement of the Latin, Greek, and Italian languages; and afterwards, the Spanish and Portu- guese. His proficiency soon displayed itself, and caused him to be elected a member of the Nottingham Literary Society, who. shortly after his admission, appointed him their professor of literature, in consequence of his delivery of an admirable extempore lecture on Genius, of nearly two hours' duration. He might now, says one of his biographers, be called, " The Crichton of Nottingham ;" for chemistry, astronomy, drawing, music, and even practical mechanics, equally claimed his atten- tion ; and his attainments in each were considerable. At the age of fifteen, he obtained, from the Monthly Preceptor, two prizes, — a silver medal and a pair of twelve-inch globes, — for a translation from Horace, and a description of an imaginary tour from London to Edinburgh. In 1802, he had written a volume of poems called " Clifton Grove," and other pieces, in the hope that the publication of them would enable him to study at col- lege for the church, though feeling no dislike to his own profes- sion, in which he was ambitious of rising. <' A deafness, how- ever," says Southey, '>; to which he had always been subject, appeared to grow worse, and threatened to preclude all hope of advancement ; and his opinions, which had once inclined to deism, had now taken a strong devotional bias." After receiv- ing a polite refusal from the Countess of D^rby, for permission to dedicate to her his poems, he obtained the consent of the Dutchess of Devonshire to the use of her name, and they accord- ingly appeared, in 1804, inscribed to her Grace, who, however, took no farther notice of the author or his book. Some remarks upon it, in " The Monthly Review," describing it as being pub- lished under the discouragement of penury and misfortune, caused him much mortification, aa will be seen from the follow- HENRY KIRKE WHITE. 591 ing letter : — " The unfavourable review (in The Monthly) of my unhappy work, has cut deeper than you could have thought ; not in a literary point of view, but as it affects my respecta- bility. It represents me actually as a beggar, going about gathering money to put myself at college when my work ia worthless ; and this with every appearance of candour. They have been sadly misinformed respecting rne : this review, goes before me wherever I turn my steps ; it haunts me incessantly, and I am persuaded it is an instrument in the hands of Satan to drive me to distraction. I must leave Nottingham." Messrs. Coldham and Enfield having agreed to give up the remainder of his time, Henry now zealously devoted himself to the study of divinity ; and reading, among other books, Scott's Force of Truth, he remarked that it was founded upon eternal truth, and that it convinced him of his errors. The avidity of his search after knowledge increased daily, or rather nightly ; for it is said that he frequently limited his time of rest to a couple of hours, and, with a desperate and deadly ardour, would often study the whole night long. The night, he used to say, was every thing to him ; and that if the world knew how he had been indebted to its hours, they would not wonder that night images were so predominant in his verses. The result of this applica- tion was a severe illness ; on his recovery from which, he pro- duced those beautiful lines, written in Milford churchyard. In July, 1814, his long-delayed hopes of entering the univer- sity were about to be gratified: '^ I can now inform you,'* he writes to a friend, in this month, " that I have reason to believe my way through college is close before me. From what source I know not ; but through the hands of Mr. Simeon, I am pro- vided with <£30 per annum ; and, while things go on prosper- ously, as they do now, I can command £'20 or X30 more from my friends : and this, in all probability, until I take my degree. The friends to whom I allude are my mother and brother." In addition to this, an unknown friend offered him <£30 a year, which he declined, as also the assistance of the Elland Society, where he had been previously examined by upwards of twenty clergymen, who expressed themselves in terms of astonishment at his classical proficiency, and were well satisfied with his theo- logical knowledge. Mr. Simeon, who had promised him asizer- ahip at St. John's, noTi advised him to degrade for a year, whir' 592 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. he, in consequence, passed at Winteringham, in Lincolnshire, under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Grainger. Here intense ap- plication to his studies brought on a second fit of illness, from which he was scarcely recovered at the time of his return to Cambridge, in October, 1805. During his first term, he an- nounced himself a candidate for a university scholarship, but ill health compelled him to decline it : he, however, made great exertions to undergo the college examination, which he was enabled to do with the aid of strong stimulants and medicines ; and he was pronounced the first man of his year. The efforts he put forth on this occasion, probably, cost him his life, for he remarked to a friend, "that Avere he to paint a picture of Fame crowning a distinguished under-graduate, after the senate- house examination, he would represent her, as concealing a death's-head under a mask of beauty." After paying a visit to London, -he returned to Cambridge^ in January, 1806, and prepared himself for the great college examination which took place in June, when he was again pro- nounced the first man. The college now offered to supply him with a mathematical tutor, free of expense ; and exhibitions, to the amount of £6S a-year, being procured for him, he was enabled to dispense with further assistance from his friends. Logarithms and problems now engrossed the attention of his already overstrained mind ; but his feeble frame, not equally under his command, soon checked the rapid but destructive ad- vance of his mental powers. One morning his laundress found him insensible, bleeding in four different places in his face and head : he had fallen down in a state of exhaustion, in the act of sitting down to decipher some logarithm tables. Still he persisted to nourish "the wound that laid him low ;" but nature was at length overcome : he grew delirious, and died on the 19th of October, 1806, in his twenty-first year. Thus fell, a victim to his own genius, one, whose abilities and acquirements were not more conspicuous than his moral and .social excellence. " It is not possible," says Southey, " to con- ceive a human being more amiable in all the relations of life. He was the confidential friend and adviser of every member of his family ; this he instinctively became : and the thorough good- ness of his advice is not less remarkable than the affection with which it is always communicated." Good sense, indeed, at al' HENRY KIRKE WHITE. 59S times, and latterly, fervent piety, appear to have been his chief characteristics ; the latter enabled him to overcome a naturally irritable temper ; and it was impossible, says the above author- ity, for man to be more tenderly patient of the faults of others, more uniformly meek, or more unaffectedly humble. With regard to his poems, observes the laureate, " Chatterton is the only youthful poet whom he does not leave far behind him ;" and, in alluding to some of his papers, handed to him for perusal after the death of White, he observes, " I have in- spected all the existing manuscripts of Chatterton, and they excited less wonder than these." 594 LIVES OP EMINENT CHRISTIANS. THOMAS CHALMERS* HALMERS was born at Anstruther, in Fife- shire, in April, 1780. His parents were com- mon tradespeople, who, with that laudable desire to give their children education, for which the Scotch are distinguished, struggled hard to give Thomas a college education, that he might become a minister. He was, there- fore, educated in all the higher branches of science and philosophy at St. Andrew's College and University, having been previously rooted and grounded in the elements at the parochial school of his native town. Having taken out his degree of Master of Arts, he attended the divinity-hall, and was licensed to preach at the beginning of the present century. On becoming a licentiate of the Church of Scotland, and even after his ordination as a minister of that church, he entered on engagements of a more general kind than those usually filled in connection with the clerical pro- fession. He became a member of a yeomanry corps, and de- livered different courses of scientific lectures in the neighbour- hood of his native town. After officiating for about two years as assistant in the parish of Cavers, he obtained a presentation to the living of Kilmany, in Fifeshire. While there, he continued to prosecute his scientific studies ; and when the chair of mathe- matics in the University of Edinburgh became vacant by the translation of Professor Playfair to the chair of natural philoso- phy, he was one of the majiy candidates who competed with the late Sir John Leslie for the vacant honour. He withdrew, however, at an early stage of the protracted contest which ensued. At this period the French war was raging, and Chal- mers produced a volume on " The Extent and Stability of the * From «' The Britannia.' THOMAS CHALMERS. 595 National Resources." It was not reprinted in his collected works, afterwards published in twenty-five volumes. For some years he remained at Kilmany, enjoying little more than provincial reputation, till the publication of some isolated sermons, and his contribution of the article "Christianity" to the "Edinburgh Encylopsedia," edited by Sir D. Brewster, all of which were marked by evangelism of tone, and expressed in a style of rugged and original grandeur. The following anecdote of his first essay as a preacher before a metropolitan congregation is told by a mornirig paper: — "In 1814, he went to Edinburgh on private business, and having been requested to call on one of the city ministers, with a view to his preaching for him that day, he was disappointed to find that the reverend gentleman intended to preach for himself: but Mr. Fleming, for that was his name, gave him a note to Mr. Jones, of Lady Glenorchy's chapel, who was then in delicate health and in Avant of supply. Mr. Chalmers hurried to the chapel on Sunday morning, got into it as Mr. Jones left the vestry, and was about to ascend the pulpit, and with more zeal than discretion walked straight up to him at the foot of the pulpit stairs, and seizing him by the tails of his coat, held hir^ fast by one hand while he presented the note with the other. Mr. Jones, on seeing the tenor of the note, withdrew to the vestry, beckoning Chalmers to follow, and there placing on his shoulders his own gown, and putting round his neck his own bands, told him to 'mount the pulpit and preach like a man of God ' Chalmers took for his text the passage in John where Christ says, ' If thou hadst known who it was that said. Give me to drink, thou wouldst have asked, and he would have given thee living waters ;' from which he delivered a sermon so power- ful and impressive, that from that day forward he was set down as the giant of the age." In 1815, he got a call to the Tron Church of Glasgow, which he accepted, and soon after was ordained in that new and ex- tensive field of labour. He quickly proved himself equal to this larger trust, and by his indefatigable activity he did much for the spread of religion, the elevation of the poor, and social improvement in Glasgow. In 1810, Mr. Chalmers was translated to the new church and parish of St. John, where he pursued his course of social regeneration with increasing success ; 690 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. but ill 1823, the chair of moral philosophy in St. Andrew s having become vacant, he was unexpectedly elected to fill it, and soon raised the department of moral philosophy to a high eminence in the curriculum of that institution. From the time that he preached a sermon before the royal commissioner, at the meeting of the General Assembly in Edinburgh in 1816, the popular effect of which was great, he was repeatedly offered the pastorship of one or other of the Edinburgh churches, but, conceiving that his talents and acquirements were such as qualified him better for teaching than preaching, he refused them all. A course of astronomical sermons, also preached in Edinburgh, contributed much to establish his fame, and he became so much a favourite with the public wherever he ap- peared thereafter, that, to use his own words, he felt the burden of "a popularity of stare and pressure and animal heat." This remark had reference more particularly to some of his appear- ances in London, where Canning, Lord Castlereagh, Lord Eldon, the Duke of Sussex, with several branches of the royal family, and many others, elbowed their way into crowded churches to hear him, and were impressed, to use the words of Foster, with that eloquence which "strikes on your mind with irresistible force, and leaves you not the possibility of asking or thinking whether it be eloquence;" or, to adopt Lord Jeffrey's still more characteristic description, " He could not say what it was, but there was something altogether remarkable about the man. The effects produced by his eloquence reminded him more of what he had read of Cicero and Demosthenes than any thing he had ever heard." In 1828, the chair of divinity in Edinburgh became vacant, and the magistrates and town council, being the patrons, unani- mously elected Dr. Chalmers to the office. Here he had reached the highest object of his ambition, and devoted himself so assiduously to the duties of his appointment that his students increased in number to a vpry inconvenient extent. For four years he pursued his course in this chair with comparative ab- straction from pu))lic affairs; but in 1832, a variety of circum- stances combined to bring him on the stage of public life, where, as the leader of the evangelical party in the church, he com- menced a struggle for church extension, which ended in the iisruption of 1843, and tlie establishment of the Free Church. THOMAS CHALMERS. 597 No sooner had the doctor set himself to work out his great problem of church establishments, being the emanation from which Christianity might by an aggressive movement take possession of the strongholds of ignorance and vice, while dissent as an attractive institution would draw off some of those already religiously disposed, than he felt the dissenters more difficult to manage than he had expected, and the government less willing to build new churches, and give the ecclesiastical courts absolute power in the management of them, than he had been led to expect. But the great majority of the people of Scotland, although they could not agree to many of Dr. Chal- mers's notions of ecclesiastical government, yet sympathized with him in his non-intrusion doctrines, and backed him up in his efforts to retain for all the male communicants of the church, above twenty-one years of age, a right to a positive as well as a negative voice in the election of ministers. The doctor, in obedience to his convictions of duty, first proposed and carried in the Assembly an act called " The Veto Act," which professedly gave to male communicants in churches the power to say " Nu" when a patron presented a licentiate to a vacant charge, assign- ing no reasons for the negation. The well-known Auchterarder case arose out of this act, and the House of Lords having de <;ided that the Church of Scotland had thus overreached herself, an appeal on popular grounds was made to the Commons, but without effect. The Rev. Doctor now counselled a secession from the establishment, and on the 18th of May, 1843, no fewer than 474 ministers left the church. The New Assembly was opened by Dr. Chalmers on the even- ing of that day, and henceforward he threw himself heart and soul into the schemes of the Free Church. His last effort was to obtain sufficient funds for the erection of a college and uni- versity buildings, in the final act of which he was engaged, previous to the building being commenced, when he was struck down, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. Dr. Chalmers held both the degrees of D. D. and LL. D. ; and was the first Presbyterian minister who obtained an honorary degree from the University of Cambridge ; and one of the few Scotchmen who have been elected a corresponding member of the Institute of France. His collected works fill twenty-five ^nodec^rao volumes. 698 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ELIZABETH FRY. LIZABETH FRY was the third daughter of the late John Gurney of Earlhara Hall, near Norwich. When a child, she was remarkable for the strength of her affections, and the vivacity of her mind, and early learned the lesson of enhancing the pleasure and happi- ness, and soothing the cares and sorrows of all around her. As she grew up, philanthropy became a marked and settled feature in her character, and she took great delight in forming and superintending a school on her father's pre- mises, for poor children. The effect which her gentle uthority and kind instructions produced, in these jects of her care, was indicative of that remarkable ; of influencing others for good, which was so distin- guishing a feature in her character in after-life. Notwithstanding this and some similar pursuits, she was in no small degree attached to the vain pleasures of the world, and was herself peculiarly attractive to such as were making those pleasures their object. But infinitely higher and better things awaited her. In consequence of a complaint which appeared to be of a serious character, the instability of all temporal things became, unexpectedly, matter of personal experience; and soon afterwards, under the searching yet persuasive ministry of the late William Savery, she became deeply serious. Her affections were now directed into the holiest channel; the love of the world gave way to the love of Christ: and she evinced the reality of her change, by becoming a consistent member of the Society of Fi-iends. This change, however, was far from disqualifying her for those social endearments which a widowed father and ten beloved brothers and sisters claimed at her hands. On the contrary, ELIZ..BETH FRY. 599 «he became more than ever the joy and comfort of the home circle, until the year 1800 ; when at the age of twenty she married Joseph Fry of London, and settled in the heart of that metropolis. Here she became the mother of a numerous young family, over whom she exerted the tenderest maternal care: yet her domestic relations did not prevent her labouring w^ith constant zeal and assiduity for the benefit of her fellow-creatures. The poor found in her an unfailing friend, and numerous indeed were the instances in which cases of distress were first personally examined by her, and afterwards effectually relieved. She was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame, and the cause which she kneiv not^ she searched out. Deeply impressed with a sense of the incomparable value of that grace, of which she was herself so large a partaker, she found it to be her indispensable duty to declare to others what God had done for her soul, and to invite her fellow-men to come, taste, and see for themselves, how good the Lord is. The sweetness and liveliness of her communications, the clear- ness and force of her Christian doctrine, and the singular soft- ness, power, and melody of her voice, can never be forgotten by those who have heard her, whether in public or private. She was often engaged in gospel missions, to other parts of England, and subsequently, to a large extent, in Scotland, Ireland, and on the continent of Europe ; in the course of which, as well as at other times, she found abundant opportunities of putting forth her energies in the subordinate yet highly im- portant character of a Christian philanthropist. She visited hospitals, prisons, and lunatic asylums, and often addressed the inmates of these and other institutions, in a manner which was most remarkably adapted to the state of her hearers. Well did she know, in dependence on Divine influence, how to find her way to the heart and understanding of the child at school, the sufierer on a sick-bed, the corrupt and hardened criminal, and even the wild and wandering maniac; and thousands, both in her native land and in foreign countries, have risen up around her, and "called her blessed in the name of the Lord." The leading object, however, of her benevolent exertions, waa the melioration of prisons. Her long and persevering attention to this object, which continued to be dear to her until her end came, commenced with a circumstance, which is already well 600 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. known to the public, both at home and abroad. At an early period of her life in London, she was informed of the terrible condition of the female prisoners in Newgate. The part of thfr prison allotted to them was a scene of the wildest disorder. Swearing, drinking, gambling, and fighting were their only em- ployments; filth and corruption prevailed on every side. Not- withstanding the warnings of the turnkeys, that her purse and watch, and even her life, would be endangered, she resolved to go in without any protection, and to face this disorganized multitude. After being locked up with them, she addressed them with her usual dignitj;, power, and gentleness; soon calmed their fury, and fixed their attention, and proposed to them a variety of rules for the regulation of their conduct, to which, after her kind and lucid explanations, they all gave a hearty con- sent. Her visits were repeated again and again ; and with the assistance of a committee of ladies, which she had formed for the purpose, she soon brought her rules to bear upon the poor degraded criminals. Within a very short time the whole scene- was marvellously changed. Like the maniac of Genesareth, from whom the legion of devils had been cast out, these once wild and wretched creatures were seen neatly clothed, busily employed, arranged under the care of monitors, with a. matron at the head of them, and, comparatively speaking, in their right mind. In carrying on her measures of reform she was gene- rously supported, not only by the city authorities, but by Lord Sidmouth, the secretary of state for the home department, and his successors without exception. The attention of Elizabeth Fry, however, and of the other ladies, whom she had formed into a visiting committee, was by no means confined to Newgate. The female criminals in some other prisons of the metropolis soon came under their care, and after the successful formation of the "British Ladies Society, for the reformation of female prisoners," (which has now con- tinued its useful efforts and interesting annual meetings for mon! than twenty years,) a similar care was extended, by means of associated committees, to most of the principal prisons in Great Britain and Ireland. Subsequently the plans of Elizabeth Fry were adopted (chiefly in consequence of her own influence and correspondence) in many of the prisons of France, Holland Denmark, Prussia, &c. ; and have been acted on with much ELIZABETH FRY. 601 success at Philadelphia, and elsewhere in the United States. The great object of the British Society was to place the female inmates of these several prisons under the care of matrons and other officers of thei?- own sex; and to arrange a plan for their being constantly visited and superintended by benevolent ladies. Numerous and satisfactory were the instances of reform which took place under the immediate notice of Elizabeth Fry; but here it ought to be emphatically remarked, that she and her ^SwSociates uniformly held up to view, that Christianity, in its practical and vital power, was the only true source of a radical renovation of character. Thus, while they ever insisted on clear.liness, industry, and wholesome order and classification, their main dependence (under the blessing of Providence) was on the reading of the Holy Scriptures, and on kind, judicious, persevering j-eligious instruction. Elizabeth Fry did much to promote her great object, by the publication of a simple yet forcible pamphlet, explanatory of her views of a right prison discipline for females, and of the true principles of punishment in general. With punishment she would invariably connect a plan for reform and restoration ; and she regarded the penalty of death with strong disapprobation. Often had she visited the cells of condemned criminals, on the day or night preceding their execution ; often had she marked the agony of some and the obduracy of others; often had she traced the hardening effect of such punishments on the fellow-prisoners of the suf- ferers, as well as on the lower orders of the public in general. She was firmly convinced that such awful inflictions were opposed alike to an enlightened expediency and to sound Chris- tian principle, and cordially did she unite with her brothers-in-law, Fowell Buxton and Samuel Hoare, and other well-known friends of humanity, in bearing her testimony against them with persons in authority, and in taking every means in her power for hastening their abolition. It was a remarkable evidence of the confidence which suc- cessive governments reposed in her and her associates, that the convict ships for females about to be transported to New South Wales were placed under their especial care and superintendence. This was a most important part of cheir service, and the success of the admirable regulations which they introduced into these vessels, in order to insure the'maintenance of a truly Christian 76 3E (?02 LIVES OP EMINENT CHRISTIANS order during the voyage, was frequently acknowledged by thts colonial authorities. Elizabeth Fry visited Scotland and Ireland in 1818 and 1827, respectively, and there her exertions in forming District Societies, on behalf of the slave, in the Bible Society, and in the formation of libraries for ttte use of the Coast Guards, were of great importance. The law of love, which might be said to be ever on her lipSy was deeply engraven on her heart, and her charity, in the best and most comprehensive sense of the term, flowed freely forth towards her fellow-men of every class, of every condition. Thus she won her way with a peculiar grace, and almost uni^ formly obtained her object. There was, however, another quality, which powerfully tended to this result — patient and indomitable perseverance. She was not one of those wha warmly embrace a philanthropic pursuit, and then as easily for- sake it. Month after month, and year after year, she laboured in any plan of mercy which she thought it her duty to under- take— and never forsook it in heart and feeling, even when health failed her, or other circumstances not under her control closed the door, for a time, on her personal exertions. This perseverance was combined with a peculiar versatility and readiness in seizing on every passing occasion, and converting it into an opportunity of usefulness. She was not only always willing, but always prepared, always ready (by a kind of mental, sleight of hand) to do good, be it ever so little, to a child, a servant, a waiter at an inn, a friend, a neighbour, a stranger. There can, indeed, be no doubt that her natural endowments were peculiarly fitted, under the sanctifying influence of Divine grace, to her arduous vocations in life ; but it was this grace — or in other words it was t\e anointing of the Spirit of the Lord^ which was in fact her main qualification for every service in the gospel — for every labour of Christian love. This it was which imparted a heavenly loveliness to her countenance, brightness and clearness to her words, a sacred melody, in times of religious solemnity, to her voice, and a strength and facility to her actions. " Q'est le don de Dieu,'' cried a German prince, who mterpreted for her, while she was addressing a large company of orphans in a foreign land. It was, indeed, the gift of Gody. Bupernaturally bestowed from the fountain of his grace, by which ELIZABETH FRY. 603 she was enabled so to move, speak, and act .n his service, and by which her natural faculties — his gifts by creation — were purified, enlarged, and directed. No one could more fully enter than she habitually did, into the force and meaning of the apostle's words, «' I know that in me^ that is to say, in my flesh, there dwelleth no good thing ;" no one could more readily or rightly answer his question, "What hast thou, that thou hast not received?" and from her inmost heart could she adopt the prayer of the psalmist, "Not unto us, 0 Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory." During her latter years, she repeatedly visited the continent of Europe, being accompanied by her husband and two of her brothers in succession ; and on one journey of considerable length, her party was joined by her firm fi-iend and helper, the late William Allen. In the course of her travels in France, Holland, Denmark, Prussia, and other parts of Germany, she found an ample scope for her Christian and benevolent exer- tions. Numerous were the institutions of various kinds which she carefully inspected, and far too many to specify were the friendships which she formed with the better part of mankind, in the countries which she visited. One example may illustrate the effect of her Christian in- fluence. On visiting one of the state prisons in the kingdom of , in 1839, she found many hundred convicts working in chains, sorely burdened and oppressed. In unison with William Allen, she pressed the case, in the absence of the king, on the attention of the queen and crown prince. Soon afterwards the queen was seized by her mortal illness, but did not depart from this world, without obtaining the kind promise of her royal consort, that Elizabeth Fry's recommendations respecting the prisons should be at once adopted. When the same prison was again visited by her in 1841, not a chain was to be seen on any of the criminals. They were working with comparative ease and freedom ; not one of them, as the governor declared, had made his escape; and great and general was the joy with which they received and welcomed their benefactress. On several occasions, during her continental journeys, when in the presence of persons in authority, Elizabeth Fry was a warm and bold advocate for religious liberty. She was greatly afflicted by witnessing the persecutions which of late years (aa 604 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. well as formerly) have disgraced even Protestant kingdoms ir* Europe, as well as many of the small republics ; and her appeals on the subject were honest, forcible, and to a considerable degree, successful. In several of the royal persons with whom she communicated, she met with truly kindred hearts, and it is not too much to assert, that some of them were united to her in the bond not only of warm and constant friendship, but of Christian fellow- ship. When the King of Prussia was in England, he made a point of visiting her at her own abode, on which occasion she had the pleasure of presenting to him her children, and children's children, a goodly company, between thirty and forty in number [ She was also gratified by receiving a most affectionate and sympathizing letter from him in his own hand, within a few weeks of her death. The interest felt about her on the conti- nent of Europe, as well as in the United States of America, was indeed as warm, and nearly as general, as in her own country. After all, however, those loved her the best, who knew her the most in private life. Her love, which flowed so freely towards mankind in general, assumed a concentrated form towards the individuals of her own immediate circle. There was not one of them who did not live in her remembrance ; not one who could not acknowledge her as an especial friend — a helper and sustainer in life. She was an ardent lover of the beauties of nature, and observed them with delight, in their smaller as well as larger features. A shell by the sea-side, a feather, or a flower, would fill her heart with joy, and tune her tongue to praise, while she gazed on it as an evidence of Divine wisdom, skill, and goodness. It was, indeed, a remarkable fea- ture in her character, that she was as complete in the little as in the great things of life — as successful in matters of a sub- ordinate nature, as in those of higher moment. Those who are accustomed to observe the ways of Divine mercy and wisdom, will not be surprised that so beloved, so popular a being, should experience the full force of the Scripture declaration — "Whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth." Many and varied were her tribulations in the course of her pilgrimage ; and it wfs throuo^h no light measure of affliction that she was prepared for her fulness of sympathy with the sufferings of others. A delicate constitution, and many of the visitations of ELIZABETH FRY. 606 eickness, the unexpected death of some of her beloved children and grandchildren, as well as the loss of other near relations and connections, and some unexpected adverse circumstances, were among the close trials of faith and patience, with which her heavenly Father saw fit to prove her in this valley of tears. And, indeed, they served her purpose, for she was preserved in deep humility and in true tenderness of spirit before the Lord, under whose holy hand she quietly bowed in resignation of soul. She knew what it was to mourn and weep, but she never de- spaired. She was one who could truly sing the song of Habak- kuk: — "Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the Grod of my salvation." In the summer of 1843, she spent a few weeks in Paris, for the last time. Never, perhaps, did she manifest a greater brightness than during that period. Her numerous friends (of various classes) flocked around her with peculiar pleasure, and lively and precious indeed was her testimony among them, to the truth as it is in Jesus, and to its practical importance and efficacy. This was her last effort of the kind. Soon after her return home, her health was evidently enfeebled, and towards the close of that year, she became so alarmingly ill that the solicitude of her own family, and the multitudes who loved her and knew her value, was painfully awakened. Although she continued very infirm in body, the sufi'ering& which she had endured, from a painful irritation of the nerves,^ and spasms, gradually abated. She was again enabled, to a certain extent, and with occasional relapses, to enjoy the com- pany of her friends ; again united with them in the public worship of God ; again cheered and comforted the family circle ; again laboured, as far as health would permit, for the benefit of her fellow-men. It was a joy and a comfort to many that she was enabled to attend two of the sittings of the last yearly meeting, and the last annual meeting of the British Ladies^ Society, on which several occasions she addressed the company present, with all her usual sweetness, love, and power. In July, 1845, she went with her husband and family, for change of air and scene, to Ramsgate, wh^re she was sur- 3 E 2 606 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS rounded by several members of her family, and took peculiar pleasure in the company of some of her beloved grandchildren, who had lately lost an invaluable father. But she was far from forgetting to be useful to others beyond her own circle. Re- peatedly was she engaged in acceptable religious service at a Friends' meeting in a neighbouring village ; and she took great pains in disseminating Bibles and tracts among the crews of foreign and other vessels, which frequented the harbour. <'We must work while it is to-day," said she, «' however low the ser- vice we may be called to. I desire, through the help that may be granted me, to do it to the end;'' adding, "'Let us sow beside all waters ;' I so greatly feel the importance of that text, « In the mornino: sow thv seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand, for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good.' " While Buch was her earnest desire, she placed no dependence for sal- vation on any works of righteousness which she had done, or could do ; but only on the fulness and freeness of the pardoning love of God in Christ Jesus — the one great sacrifice for sin, her sure and certain hope of eternal glory. In the meanwhile there was a marked sweetness and loveli- ness in her conversation and demeanour, and a peculiar and increasing seriousness in her state of mind — a longing for a glorious eternity — which seemed to denote that she was rapidly ripening for a holier and brighter scene, a better and enduring inheritance. Speaking of her late afflictions, in a note to one of her brothers, she acknowledged that she did not count them strange, as though some strange thing had happened unto her, but rather rejoiced in being made a partaker in the sufferings of Christ, that when his glory should be revealed, she might be glad also with exceeding joy. <' Ah, dearest ," she added, <'may we, through our Lord's love and mercy, eventually thus rejoice with him in glory, rest and peace, when this passing scene shall close upon our view!" Her hour was indeed nearly come. In the afternoon of the 11th September, 1845, after a day or two of considerable suffering and debility, she was suddenly at- tacked with pressure on the brain, and while sinking under the Btroke, was heard to exclaim, " 0 my dear Lord, keep and help thy servant !" She soon fell into a deep slumber, and became totally ELIZABETH FRY. 60l unconscious ; which state, notwithstanding some sever«3 convul- Bions, continued ahnost without intermission, until, on the morning of the 13th, she quietly drew her last breath. On one occasion, however, she woke up for a few moments and said to a faithful attendant who was beside her bed, " This is a strife, but I am SAFE." Safe she then was, doubtless, in the holy bands of the Lord, Avho was with her in the valley of the shadow of death. Safe she now is for ever, as we reverently yet firmly believe, in the bosom of that adorable Redeemer, whom she ardently loved and faithfully followed. Although she was scarcely to be numbered with the aged, hers was a long life in the service of her God and Saviour. She died in her sixty-sixth year.* * From "The Friend," Philadelphia, September, 1846. SOS LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ROBERT HALL. EN of great talent are said seldom to have clever sons ; but to this rule the present in- stance furnishes an exception. The father of Robert Hall was a distinguished minister of the Baptist persuasion at Arnsby, a small village near Leicester; and the more than ordinary resemblance between them, both in the conformation of the head and features, and the order of their mental faculties, might afford some assistance to the dubious in the verification of ph3'siognomical science. Robert (born at Arnsby May 2, 1764) was the youngest of fourteen children, and, in infancy, the feeblest, though afterwards his 'ame and constitution bordered on the athletic. He was once given up for dead in the arms of his nurse; and it was long after the average time for children before he could walk or talk. In the former faculty he was never a proficient — in the latter he soon became remarkable. Even at a very early period, as we have been informed by those who had the means of knowing, he would frequently entertain the haymakers in the hours of toil, and during their meals, by a conversation rich in sensible observations and sportive sallies, which secured their admiration and love. Happily the pre- cocity of his talent was exempt from the usual fatality of premature extinction. Even at nine years of age he could not be restricted to the narrow limits of village school instruction, but had read and reflected on Butler's Analogy, and Jonathan Edwards' Treatises on the Affections and the Will. This meta- physical bias he himself attributed to an intimate acquaint- tince with an humble tailor at Arnsby, whom he represent- ed as a very well-informed, acute man. From his character in after-life, it would rather appear that the dialectical skill ROBERT HALL. 609 and tendencies were in the child, for ^Yhom it was sufficient to find a willing listener in the tailor; for it is often characteristic of great and generous minds, to attribute to others as native excellence what in fact is only seen as reflections of their own. His first tutor informed his father, when his son was only eleven years of age, that he was unable farther to instruct his pupil ; and accordingly, after a short interval, he was taken to the boarding-school of the Rev. John Ryland of Northampton, with whom he remained only a year and a half. The genius of Ryland (the father of the late Dr. Ryland) was of a kind well calculated to stimulate his son; nor was it unallied to it in bold conception and eccentricity. In the latter respect, however, his tutor was a meteor of wilder range and fiercer blaze. In September, 1778, he became a member of his father's church, and having given satisfactory proofs of piety and of predilection for the Christian ministry, he was soon after sent to the Bristol Academy, whence, after three years, he was transferred to King's College, Aberdeen. While at Bristol he was highl}^ appreciated both as a student and a speaker. What he did and wrote uniformly bore the stamp of originality; and his occasional eff'orts at Arnsby, Clipstone, and Kettering, during the vacations, excited great interest and won him much admiration. During his college pursuits at Aberdeen, the professors of that period gave the strongest testimonies to his proficiency in the various branches of classical, mathematical, and philosophical study. At the close of his fourth year, he delivered a Greek oration, which obtained for him much local celebrity, and this was followed with the honorary degree of Master of Arts. At Aberdeen he became associated, as well in intellectual pursuits as in close friendship, Avith Sir James Mackintosh. These emi- nent men ever after retained for each other sentiments of the highest consideration and attachment. They were so marked at college for their unanimity and attainments, that their class- fellows would often point to them, and say, "There go Plato and Herodotus." We have not in the present instance to contemplate genius struggling amidst counter-working agencies, and making its way notwithstanding the difficulties ; but rather the happy results of a combination of favourable circumstances eliciting much and 77 610 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. perfecting its powers. That Hall would have surmounted ob- stacles of no ordinary kind cannot be questioned ; but he was not called to the trial. Under the paternal roof he had the advantage of talent and experienced wisdom to guide his early way ; at the boarding-school he was still powerfully impelled forAvard by kindred genius and an exalted moral influence ; in the Bristol Institution he enjoyed the tutorship of Hugh and Caleb Evans, both of them distinguished in their day; at Aber- deen his mental habits were strengthened b}^ the companionship of Mackintosh. Having imbibed a taste for literature and a turn for metaphysical inquiries in these several schools of in- struction, not to forget the books he first read, and the inter- course he held with the celebrated tailor at Arnsby, he was providentially preparing for that literary and public career to which he was destined, and which he was by nature adapted to occupy. The bracing effect of that rivalship, and of those friendly discussions in which he and Sir James were wont daily to engage, in their wanderings by the shore or in the fields, was, to one of his order, like the tightening of the strings of a musical instrument, which, when wound up to the right pitch, was hereafter to pour forth strains of powerful and enchanting melody. Sir James declared of himself, in a letter to Hall, at a distant period, that " on the most impartial survey of his early life, he could see nothing which so much tended to excite and invigorate the understanding, to direct it towards high, and perhaps scarcely accessible objects, as his intimacy with his honoured friend." Examples of this description have a strong relation to the question, Avhether genius be an innate and original constituent of the mind, or whether it be only the calling forth, by means of proper cultivation, the rudiments of thought, or the seminal principles of mental superiority, wliich may be supposed inherent in all rational natures. It is hard to conceive, however, amidst innumerable failures, that mere diligence, attended by whatever advantages, would work out such stupendous results. At the close of 1783, Mr. Hall received an invitation to become assistant pastor with Dr. Caleb Evans, at Broadmead, Bristol. It was agreed, however, that he should return to his studies in Scotland, during the college session of 1784-5. On settling at Bristol, his preaching elevated him to the height of popularity, ROBERT HALL Gil being the evident product of a mind of extraordinary vigour and cultivation ; yet it was deficient in evangelical richness — a cir- cumstance which none afterwards so deeply deplored as himself. In August, 1785, he was appointed classical tutor in the Bristol Academy, a situation which he held with great reputation for more than five years. A painful misunderstanding with Dr. Evans, and some difi"erences of sentiment with the church, at length facilitated his removal to another sphere of labour. He was invited to succeed Robert Robinson at Cambridge, and went thither in July, 1791. From that period, we are informed by one of his hearers, the congregation gradually increased, till in a few years the enlargement of the place of worship became necessary. Members of the university frequently, and in con- siderable numbers, attended in the afternoons on his preaching. Several senators, as well as clergymen of the Established Church, received their first lessons in eloquence from his lips. The progress of the French Revolution, which shook the very foundations of society in England, by splitting it into political divisions of opinion, did not more violently agitate any place in the kingdom than Cambridge, which was prolific in contro- versial pamphlets and social conflicts. Hall's ardent mind became inflamed, and, urged on by a circle of intelligent and active friends, he was induced to resist his natural disinclination to writing, and produced a large pamphlet, under the title of ''An Apology for the Freedom of the Press," which, though composed with rapidity, was full of power, and secured for him much distinction as an author. This early essay is characterized by a manly avowal of liberal principles, communicated in lan- guage at once forcible and beautiful, thundering with energy, and lightening with flashes of brilliant eloquence. The next publication laid the basis of his lasting celebrity as an author — his discourse on "Modern Infidelity." Inde- pendently of its intrinsic excellence, there were several circum- stances which contributed to its popularity. It was remarkably vfoW-timedj and answered a pressing necessity. Between the years 1795 and 1799, many debating societies were formed in London, to which the lower classes were allured on the Sunday evenings, under various pretences, and which became in a short time the nurseries of infidelity. The leaven of impiety spread, and he had reason to fear that not only was the country be- 612 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. coming infected, but that the young among his own people wore tending to skepticism. This grieved his pious spirit, and roused into exertion his utmost talent. He first delivered this sermon at Bristol in 1800, and then at Cambridge. His own view of the case is thus expressed in a preface : — "To obliterate the sense of Deity, of moral sanctions, and a future world; and by these means to prepare the way for the total subversion of every institution, both social and religious, wliich men have been hitherto accustomed to revere, is evidently the principal object of modern skeptics — the first sophists who have avowed an attempt to govern the world without inculcating the persuasion of a superior power." He intimates that it is the immaculate holiness of the Chris- tian revelation which is precisely what renders it disgusting to men who are determined, at all events, to retain their vices. " The dominion of Christianity being, in the very essence of it, the dominion of virtue, we need look no further for thQ sources of hostility in any who oppose it, than their attachment to vice and disorder. This view of the controversy, if it be just, demonstrates its supreme importance, and furnishes the strongest plea Avith every one v/ith whom it is not a matter of indiflference whether vice or virtue, delusion or truth, govern the world, to exert his talents, in whatever proportion they are possessed, in contending earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints." Another circumstance which contributed to the popularity of this discourse was the extreme virulence of an attack in the " Cambridge Intelligencer," in several letters by Mr. Flower its editor, which were written, as was generally believed, in resent- ment for the friendly advice of Mr. Hall to alter the tone of his political disquisitions. About the same time, another attack of equal virulence was made by Mr. Anthony Robinson, in a separate pamphlet. On the other hand, it was lauded by the most distinguished members of the university, celebrated by Dr. Parr in his '< Spital Sermon," extolled by individuals of literary eminence, and especially praised by Sir James Mackintosh in the Monthly Review, and privately circulated by him, to some extent, among his parliamentary friends. All this, however, would have been unavailing to give it permanent influence, and U author superior fame, had it not possessed extraordinarv ROBERT HALL. 613 merits. In truth it can never be read without profit, and can never perish while the language lasts. Within a comparatively short period Mr. Hall published two other sermons, remarkable also for their display of talent and their critical adaptation to the times; namely, "Reflections on War," and "The Sentiments proper to the present Crisis." These will be lasting records of his genius, though the exciting occasions of them have passed away. The few other sermons from his pen, excepting that on the death of the Princess Char- lotte, had relation to more private events, though of the deepest interest and importance — as "The Discouragements and Sup- ports of the Christian Minister, a Funeral Sermon for Dr. Ryland," with some others. Besides these, he published many miscellaneous pieces, and some controversial writings; but it is not our design either to enumerate or analyze his works. There is not one of them, even the very earliest, that has not his pe- culiar stamp, the impress of his original mind ; and in general they exhibit a remarkable uniformity of excellence, arising, as we believe, from the nice balance of his intellectual powers, the discriminating accuracy of his taste, and the abundant labor lirtvje et mora which he invariably bestowed upon all his pro- ductions. Mr. Hall had always been a great sufferer from a pain in his back, which generally compelled him to recline on sofas, benches, or two or three chairs united, for hours together in a day. This affliction very much increased in 1803, so as frequently to de- prive him of sleep, and produce very serious depressions of spirits. He was advised to reside some miles out of Cambridge, and only repair thither when officially required. This plan of .alleviation was not, however, altogether successful, and the mental malady placed him in November, 1804, under the care of Dr. Arnold of Leicester. In April, 1805, he was so fully restored as to be able to resume his ministerial labours at Cam- bridge, but he lived nine miles from the town. This procedure was injudicious; the seclusion was too entire; and in twelve months another eclipse of reason rendered it necessary to obtain a second course of medical superintendence at the Fish Ponds, near Bristol. It also compelled his resignation of the pastoral charge at Cambridge. These severe visitations were instru- mental in perfecting his religious sentiments and his religious 3 F 614 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. cbaiACter. His own impression was that he had not undergo ne a thorough renewal of heart till the first of these seizures. We should hope it was otherwise, and are disposed to believe that his habitual low estimation of himself deceived him on this subject. After this second recovery, he resided for some time at En- derby, a retired village in the neighbourhood of Leicester. While there, the author of the article which is our authority saw striking displays of his peculiarities both of body and mind. With regard to the former, his temperament was sin gularly cold and impenetrable to the elements. While sitting together for some hours in a very small parlour, which he had heated by a heaped up fire, and filled to suffocation with the smoke of his favourite tobacco, he suddenly exclaimed — " Well, sir, perhaps you would like a little air." Then throwing open the window, he deliberately walked round the garden several times without his hat, though he was entirely bald, and while the keen blast of a November afternoon was cutting the flesh like a knife. At an expression of surprise at this endurance both of the heat and the cold, he said, " Why, sir, as to the weather, I am not at all affected; I could undertake to walk both uncovered and barefoot from here to Leicester, (five or six miles,) without taking cold. As to the fire, sir, I am very fond of it. I should like to have a fire before, and a fire behind, and a fire on each side." Whether the yet unsubsided irritability of his mind might not have exercised some peculiar influence over the physical nature to produce these phenomena, must be left to physiologists to determine ; it is certain they existed. On the ensuing morning, he referred with great interest and emotion to the celebrated article against missions which had recently appeared in the Edinburgh Eevieto, and said that Mr. Fuller had very much urged him to undertake a reply. — "With some difficulty, I yielded, sir, to the solicitations of such a man, and for sucli a cause. I have, in fact, written about twelve pagesj I should like your opinion thus far: will you permit me to read them to you?" He did so; and if memory do not deceive, the power of the argument, the brilliancy of the wit, and the elegance of the diction equalled, if not surpassed, any of his compositions. Yet with all characteristic humility he said — "I think, however, Andrew Fuller would have succeeded better in his way. I wish he had done it himself; but I could ROBERT HALL. 515 hot persuade him. I think I can't finish it now." So it proved. The document is lost, and prob:xbly shared the fate of some of the finest productions of his intellect — that of lighting his pipe ! During his residence at Enderby, Mr. Hall frequently preached in the surrounding villages, and occasionally at Harvey Lane, Leicester, the scene of Dr. Carey's former labours. With the people of this congregation he ultimately associated himself as minister in 1807, and this connection continued unbroken for nearly twenty years. These were probably the happiest of his life, for in addition to his domestic enjoyments, (he married in 1808,) the attendance on his ministry increased from three hundred to a thousand, with manifest tokens of public useful ness. Without abating in his direct pastoral exertions, he was excited to increased activity in promoting Bible, Missionary, and other important societies. It was here the great luminary rose to its meridian splendour, and diifused abroad its most benignant radiance. " Churchmen and Dissenters ; men of rank and influence ; individuals in lower stations ; men of simple piety, and others of deep theological knowledge ; men who ad- mired Christianity as a beautiful system, and those who received it into the heart by faith; men in doubt, others involved in un- belief: all resorted to the place where he was announced as the preacher." During this period, also, were issued several brief but beautiful publications. On the death of Dr. Ryland, he was invited to succeed him in the pastoral ofiice at Broadmead, Bristol, to which request, after frequent and painful revolutions of feeling, he finally yielded, believing that he was providentially called to the change of his ministerial sphere. Here he attracted great attention, aa in other places, though his powers were perhaps a little enfeebled by advancing years ; while the happy association into which he was introduced with ministers and laymen of all denominations, and the stimulating effect of those delightful reminiscences which sprung up among a few remaining friends of his early life, tended to re-excite his energies, and to shed sunshine over the descending path to the tomb. He still gladdened society by his visits, and pursued his own pleasure and improvement by read- ing. His favourite classical writers were his frequent resort, while his devotional spirit renewed its vigour by enlarged draughts at the fountain of inspiration. Of the commentators. 616 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Matthew Henrj was most prized, and daily read in considerable portions. He continued also to practise occasional fasting, which he had begun at Leicester, according to his own testi- mony, with the greatest advantage. His religion seemed to run parallel with the increase of his personal sufferings, which were progressively severe, especially as he became plethoric, and his old complaint in the back strengthened with his decline. A temporary absence at Coleford, in the forest of Dean, appeared to recruit his health, but the effect was of transient duration. He had frequent spasmodic affections of the chest, and immediate dissolution was threatened on the 1st of January, 1831, but it passed off, leaving apparently on his mind more impressive sen- timents of the coming eternity. With these, all his subsequent public addresses were deeply imbued; till he engaged in his last service, which was a church meeting, on the 9th of Feb- ruary. On the next day, he had just retired to his study to prepare his usual monthly sermon, in anticipation of the ap- proaching Sabbath of communion, Avhen he was seized with the first of the series of paroxysms which terminated in his death. This solemn event took place on the 21st of February, 1831, at the age of sixty-six. In some of the more private virtues of life Robert Hall was unsurpassed. Of these we do not recollect having seen his humanity particularly noticed, though it was in reality a very striking feature of his character. It resulted alike from the benevolence of his affections and the extreme sensibility of his mind. Two specimens of this are in our recollection at this moment: — the one in the way of resentment, the other of com- passion. A certain popular minister in his circle occupied a piece of pasture-land attached to his house, in the fence of which a poor sheep had entangled its head, having obtruded it between the rails, without the power of extricating itself. This man, who was excessively choleric, beat the animal until it expired; for which barbarity Hall never could forgive him; and no efforts at reconciliation, though repeatedly attempted by mutual friends, could ever succeed. While the barbarity would doubtless have prejudiced most minds, his acute sensibility for the speechless sufferer led him to treat it as a kind of personal offence to his nature. The other instance was one in which be was endangered by the fall of a horse. The friend with whom he was travelling ROBERT HALL. 617 expressed much anxiety as to any injury he might have sustained, but could elicit no other answer to his repeated questions than — " Poor animal ! is he hurt, sir ; is he hurt ? I hope, sir, the poor horse is not hurt." This was no affectation of kindness; he had too much genuine simplicity of character to render that possible : it was the outpouring of an exquisite sensibility. To the same general principle may be referred his politeness ; which was not m him an obedience to the conventional laws of society, but the dictate of a mind alive to the circumstances of others, and a heart full of feeling. He had learned of the apostle to be '< courteous," in the most exalted sense of the term; and always repaid the smallest offices of kindness with exuberant expressions of gratitude. Consider aten ess was a remarkable trait of his character. In fact, it was sometimes almost ludicrously punctilious. Among many proofs of this with which the writer who is our authority was familiar, he mentions what occurred on one occasion when he had accompanied him on a journey to the North. The travellers had taken up their abode at an inn, and while dis- charging the account the next morning, he said, with some earnestness — "Pay that man a penny, sir, for me." The as- tonishment and the smile may easily be conceived. He per- sisted ; adding, '< I will tell you how it is, sir. I usually burn a rushlight, but forgot to mention it, and being late, I did not choose to disturb any one. So I burnt out the cj^ndle, which. I am sure was at least worth an extra penny, upon which the landlord could not calculate." This might seem to be a trifling incident, but as indicative of character, deserves to be recorded. Another of a different kind was connected with it. When approaching the town in question, he said — ''Now, sir, a very excellent Independent minister resides here, but he is poor. He cannot afford to entertain us, but we should be pleased with his company, and ought, I think, sir, to show him respect. Besides, he would be grieved to hear that we had been in town, and never thought of seeing him. With your permission, we will secure our beds, order what we should like, and then send to invite him to sup with us at the inn. And there, sir, it is not* improbable, some of his friends will have found us out, and we will •^-ccept any invitation to breakfast in the morning, wher« 78 3 F 2 618 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. the worthy man will, no doubt, be invited to meet us, and thus he will be spared, and we shall all be gratified." The humility of Hall has been expatiated upon by all who have attempted to describe him. It was, however, humility unallied with ridiculous self-depreciation, and totally remote from every thing like cringing sycophancy. It cannot be sup- posed that such a man was insensible to his own mental supe- riority; and in truth the consciousness of it was at times dis- played incidentally, but never pompously. Though he would in general repudiate applause, yet there were occasions when he would receive it with an apparent satisftiction. He would frequently inquire of his intimate friends what they thought of his discourses immediately after their delivery; but his manner of doing so would rather indicate an inward sense of un worthi- ness and insufficiency, than a desire to obtain approbation. In addition to his own experience, the writer has often heard the late Mr. William Hollick of Cambridge, state, that he usually walked with him to his lodging in St. Andrew Street, on the Sunday morning after service; when Mr. Hall scarcely ever failed to put the question — "Well, sir, what did you think of my sermon ?" Mr. Hollick soon discovered, that he almosi invariably disagreed in opinion ; and often expressly put him to the test, by veiling his own real sentiments. Thus, if Mr. Hollick expressed a high estimate of the discourse, he would say, "No, sir, I don't think you are right. I thhik nothing of it; I was nof so much at liberty as I could have wished." If the contrary sentiment were uttered, he would say in a half- jesting manner — "Pretty well, sir, I think." These conversa- tions evinced considerable sensitiveness; they also showed that he had made a tolerable estimate of his own powers ; but, con- nected as they were with evident manifestations of piety, they also proved that he was intensely concerned, not so much about his personal reputation, as for the moral and spiritual efi*ects of his ministry. A little incident that has come to our knowledge affords a further display of this part of his character. A brother minister had on one occasion heard him preach with peculiar satisfaction. A considerable time afterwards he met him ; and having a vivid remembrance of the discourse in which he had been so interested, took an opportunity of adverting to it in terms of ardent eulogy. Instead of receiving this approbation ROBERT HALL. 619 Tith a self-suflBcient air, he replied — "Yes, sir, yes; the Lord was with me on that day." But whatever he might occasionally seem before man, (and then even in his most unbent and joyous moments a person must have had a keen eye indeed who could have detected the little arts of vanity and self-exaltation,) his humility appeared to be perfect before God. The simplicity of his expressions, the evident prostration of his spirit, and the fervour of his pleadings in prayer, furnished extraordinary proofs of this characteristic. So habitually devout and vigorous was his mind, that he was capable of the most sudden and singular transitions from inter- course with man to intercourse with Heaven. The following is a curious instance of this. Mr. Hall had been indulging in that species of innocent merriment and jocularity to which he sometimes yielded ; and in the midst of a very humorous story, the clock struck twelve — in an instant he laid down his pipe, exclaiming, " Sir, it is midnight, and we have not had fimily prayer." The next moment he was on his knees, absolutely absorbed in devotion, and pouring forth the most solemn and reverential petitions at the footstool of mercy. Another instance at once of his religious ardour and filial tenderness occurred at Arnsby on a visit. It was related to the present writer by one of the witnesses. On his way from Leicester he had expatiated on his father's excellences, and the scenes of his earliest days. As soon as he entered the house in which his father had resided, he hastened into the parlour, fell on his knees, and poured forth the most devout and fervent sup- plications. The two or three individuals who were near speed- ily withdrew, that they might not interrupt his feeling. Soon afterwards he went into the burial-ground, and dropping on his knees at his father's grave, with his hands extended over the monumental stone, and his eyes closed, he offered up an extra- ordinary series of petitions. Among these he breathed forth an impassioned desire to "join the blessed company above ;" and entreated that he might be " permitted to know his departed father in the heavenly world; and that their united prayers, often presented on earth, might be then turned into praise, while they beheld their 'Redeemer face to face together.' " His writings sufficiently attest the liberality of his religious views. In some instances, indeed, he has expressed himself in C20 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. terms which will be deemed severe ; but he was <' a lover of all good men," while he firmly maintained his sentiments as a dis- senter and a Baptist. He cultivated much intercourse with many who differed from him in both respects, and never, it is believed, gave them any real occasion of offence. Sometimes he would indulge in a little sarcasm and raillery at their pe- culiarities; but his wit was the flash of the innocuous summer lightning, attracting rather by its beauty and playfulness, than injuring by its stroke. He was greatly distinguished for his conversational powers, and was generally very communicative. In this respect a parallel might be instituted between him and Coleridge, pre- senting, however, some striking diversities. Coleridge was more studied in his conversations ; Hall more free and spon- taneous. Coleridge was frequently involved and metaphysical; Hall simple, natural, and intelligible. Coleridge usurped and engrossed conversation ; Hall never did so voluntarily. Cole- ridge could and would talk upon any thing ; Hall required to be more invited and brought out by the remarks or inquiries of others. Coleridge was more profound; Hall more brilliant. Coleridge did not deal in polished sentences, but would con- tinue to talk for hours in a plain and careless diction ; Hall was invariably elegant and classical, commonly vivacious and sparkling with wit. Coleridge was sure to be heard ; Hall to be remembered. Coleridge had the advantage of a more uni- versal knowledge ; Hall of a more unencumbered and clearly perceptive intellect. Each was in his day the first of his class, rarely equalled, and probably never surpassed. The conversations of Robert Hall abounded in wit, fine dis- criminations of character, and profound estimates of eminent authors.* * We are indebted for thia sketch of Robert Hall to the " North British Review." THOMAS CLARKSON. 621 THOMAS CLARKSON. HOMAS CLARKSON, whose labours for the suppression of the slave trade entitle him to a place among philanthropists beside Howard and Eliot, was born in England, in 1761. Originally designed for the ministry, he studied at St. John's College, Cambridge, and at an early age gave promise of great talents. He several times triumphed in competition for college prizes ; and in 1785 obtained the first prize for a Latin essay on the subject "Is it Just to make men Slaves against their Will ?" Up to this time Clarkson indulged hopes of enter- ing the ministry. Providence had appointed him to another work. The researches necessary to the com- position of his essay seem to have left deep impressions upon his mind ; and thenceforth he directed his atten- tion to the subject of the amelioration of the African race. In 1786 he published an " Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, particularly the African," which was a translation of his prize paper. It produced a great sensation ; and reacting through public opinion upon the author, fired him with an enthusiasm which, in a less important cause, might have been named madness. Although already possessed of deacon's orders, he resigned them, abandoned his former intentions, joined Mr. Wilberforce and other philanthropists, and devoted every energy of his mind to his new subject. In 1787, a small society was formed with a view to the suppression of the slave trade ; in 1788 appeared his book " On the Impolicy of the African Slave Trade ;" in 1789 his «' Comparative Efiicacy of the Regulation or Abolition as applied to the African Slave Trade." But his labours were not confined to the pen. Though ex- 022 LIVES OP EMINENT CHRISTIANS. posed to the scorn of merchants and dealers, he visited Bristol, Liverpool and other large cities, with a view to the formation of anti-slave-trade societies ; he endeavoured to win the co-opera- tion of Mr. Pitt ; he appeared before the privy-council, with a box of various articles manufactured in Africa by Africans, in order to prove that the free negroes were capable of becoming valuable auxiliaries to commerce. In 1791 he published " Let- ters on the Slave Trade," and in 1807, " Three Letters to the Planters and Slave Merchants." His zeal aroused the exertions of many good men in Great Britain and on the Continent ; but while Pitt remained in power, circumstances prevented any mea- sure of importance on the subject in parliament. With the ministry of Mr. Fox daw^ied a better day ; and acts of abolition were speedily passed by large majorities. The great work for which Clarkson had sacrificed and toiled so much was now^ accomplished ; and after a warfare of twenty years, against prejudice, bigotry, and high-handed iniquity, sup- ported by the strong arm of power, it is refreshing to see him retiring victoriously from the field, and passing in well-deserved repose the remainder of his life. His pursuits during this re- tirement were chiefly literary. His " Portraiture of Quaker- ism," and his "Life of John Penn " exhibit the many virtues and the few errors of the Friends, with rare historical justice. He had found the members of t,hat sect of great assistance to him during his contest with the slave dealers. In 1808, ap- peared his " History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade," the most valuable perhaps of his works. The labour of love which he accomplished, in the face of so many difiiculties, forms an important era in the history of human advancement. He died SeptenJber 26, 1846. THOMAS ARNOLD. 623 DR. THOMAS ARNOLD. nOMAS ARNOLD, late professor of History at Oxford, was born June 13, 1795, at West Clowes, Isle of Wight. He began his student's course at Warminster, was transferred to Win- chester, and finally to Corpus Christi College, Oxford. The strong home and local attach- ments, the quick historical fancy and memory, the love of poetry, and the remarkable fondness for geography, which were such leading qualities of his mature mind, all showed themselves in his childhood. At Winchester he read and re-read with increased avidity Gibbon, Mitford, Russell, and *riestley ; and though but fourteen years old, devoted himself to the extermination of half the Roman history, which he verily believed is, 'ed humanity. "The ^Vanderer of Switzerland," is consecrated ti 544 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. the cause of freedom and oppressed patriotism. In many of his principal poems he breathes that longing for the dawning over the world of a better dispensation, the thoughts of which were so much in conformity to his disposition. In the *' West Indies," he describes, with deep fervour, the abolition of the African slave-trade, the efforts of Clarkson, Wilberforce, and other champions in that cause, and the prospective introduction of Christianity among the negroes. *' The World before the Flood " is a somewhat singular production, originating from a passage in Milton concerning Enoch, and describing the prim- eval world and its inhabitants. The subject is entirely epic„ The '*Sons of Cain," enemies of God and his people, make an assault upon Eden, and, together with a .race of giants, make prisoners of the believers or patriarchs, the children >of Shem. While the wicked king is about to sacrifice the latter to his demon gods, Enoch, suddenly prophesies his overthrow by a de- luge, and is translated to heaven. His garment falls upon tho believers, and enables them to escape. The giants are then destroyed by a host of cherubims from heaven. This is one of Mr. Montgomery's most popular poems, and contains many fine and tender passages. The poem on " Greenland," which de- scribes the discovery, history, and appearance of that island, and its colonization by Moravians, has also enjoyed much popu- larity. The " Thoughts on Wheels " are little poems, rather whimsical, describing the different purposes to which the wheel has been applied. The names — " Combat," " Inquisition," " State Lottery," " Car of Juggernaut," &c. will suggest the subject of each poem. The " Songs of Zion " are an imitation of many of the Hebrew Psalms, and contain many hymns not unworthy the worship of Jehovah, by the heart moved to holy joy. Some of them are now included in the hymn collections :)f all Christian denominations, and bear comparison Avith simi- lar productions by Watts, Newton, Doddridge and Heber. We may close the biography of Mr. Montgomery by the following quotation from the Edinburgh Review. " There is Bomething in all his poetry which makes fiction the most im- pressive teacher of truth and wisdom, and by which, while the intellect is gratified and the imagination roused, the heart, if it retains any sensibility to tender or elevating emotions, cannot fail to be made better." JANE TAYLOK. 645 JANE TAYLOR. N the 23d of September, 1783, Miss Taylor '^ was born in London. She was the daughter of an engraver, who also acted as pastor to a dissenting congregation at Colchester, where the subject of our memoir was educated, and learned the rudiments of her father's business. Her poetical talents, which she developed at a very early age, were first made known to the public in a work called '' The Miner's Pocket Book," where her poem of " The Beggar Boy " appeared, in 1804. The approbation it met with encouraged her to proceed, and she produced, in succession, several other poems, among which '« Ori- ^7^ ginal Poems for Infant Minds," and " Rhymes for the Nursery," in both of which she was assisted by her sister, are still popular. In 1815, she produced a work, in prose, entitled "Display;" which was shortly afterwards followed by her last work, entitled " Essays, in Rhyme, on Morals and Manners;" written with taste, elegance, and feeling. Having removed, with her family, to Ongar, in 1810, she died there, of a pulmonary complaint, in April, 1823. Miss Taylor's works are almost all composed with a view to the mental and moral improvement of youth, and, as such, are deservedly reckoned among the first and most useful of their class. There is in them that simple earnestness and that appearance of every-day life which never fail to fascinate the youthful reader ; while her frequent intermixture of the quiet rural scenes of England, with the mental condition of the lower classes, caused by the poverty and oppression which they experience in great cities, affords descriptions which leave indelible impressions upon the mind, and teach in the most effectual manner the moral which it is her lim to convey. 646 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ELIZABETH CAETER. LIZABETH CARTER, the daughter of a cler- gyman, at Deal, in Kent, was born there on the 16th of December, 1717, and was educated by her father, who at first, from the slowness of her faculties, despaired of her progress in intellectual attainments. She, however, pur- sued her studies with such perseverance, that, in a short time, she overcame all her difficulties, nnd became mistress, successively, of Latin, Greek, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Por- tuguese, and Hebrew. As early as 1736, some of her poems had appeared in "The Gentleman's Magazine ;" and, in 1738, a quarto pamphlet of her poetical productions was published by Cave. In 1739, be gave a translation of " The Critique of Crousaz on Pope's Essay on Man, and of Algarotti's Explanation of Newton's Philosophy, for the Use of the Ladies," which pro- cured her a high reputation among the literati, both at home and abroad. About 1741, she became acquainted with Miss Catherine Talbot, and Seeker, (afterwards Archbishop of Can- terbury,) under whose encouragement she composed her cele- brate 1 translation of Epictetus, which appeared in quarto, in 1752. It was published, by subscription, at the price of one guinea, and is said to have produced to the authoress cfilOOO. Her great acquisitions and intellectual powers had already pro- cured for her the friendship and admiration of some of the most eminent men of letters of the day, and, in 1763, she accompanied Lord Bath, Mrs. Montague, and Dr. Douglas (afterwards Bishop of Salisbury) on a tour to Spa. In the space of ten years from this time, she lost, succe-ssiveiy, her friends. Lord Bath Archbishop Seeker, Miss Talbot, and her father ; having ar 4ved, says her biographer, " at a time of h^c, uhcn everj y»ai ELIZABETH CARTER. ^47 was stealing from her some intimate friend or dear relation." In 1782, at the request of Sir William Pulteney, who allowed her an annuity of £150 per annum, she accompanied his daughter to Paris ; and, in 1791, she had the honour, by her majesty's express desire, of an interview with Queen Charlotte. She also, subsequently, received visits from several of the royal family, and continued to be held in great reputation, long after she had ceased to attract public notice as a writer. She lived to the age of eightj^'-eight, and died, highly respected and es- teemed by a numerous circle of friends, on the 19th of Feb- cuary, 1806. In 1807, were published " Memoirs of her Life, with a new edition of her poems, &c., together with Notes on the Bible, and Answers to Objections concerning the Christian Religion, by the Rev. Montague Pennington ;" and, in 1808, her correspondence with Miss Talbot was published, in two volumes, octavo. The intellectual qualities of Miss Carter were neither dazzling nor commanding; but she possessed sound sense, vigour of thought, and indefatigable application. Elegance of style and purity , of sentiment, which sometimes rises to the sublime, are the chief characteristics of her poetry ; for which, however, she is less celebrated than for her learn- ing. 648 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. WILLIAM ALLEN. PITALFIELDS, London, was the birth-piace of this distinguished Christian and philan- thropist. He was born August 29, 1770, and both his parents were members of the So- ciety of Friends. His mind was early imbued with feelings of piety, and with a belief that the Spirit of Grod might one day rest upon him, to direct his thoughts and actions. At an early age he was placed at a boarding-r^chool in Rochester, where the taste which he afterwards cultivated for philosophical studies soon developed itself. Many of his youthful experiments in chemistry are on record ; and at the age of fourteen he had, at the expense of fourteen pence, constructed a rude telescope, with which he could see the moons of Jupiter. After leaving school, he engaged with his father in the silk business; but as this ill accorded with his philosophical taste, he in a little while entered the chemical establishment of Joseph Gurney Bevan at Plough Court. Here he advanced from one grade to another until he finally became the proprietor. For several years he was much occupied with the executive parts of business, and the prosecution of studies connected with it ; yet in no instance does it appear that he allowed secular concerns to interfere with sacred duties. From his diary, which he kept after entering his eighteenth year, we learn that he was dilgent in attending his week-day meetings, and set apart a portion of each day for prayer and religious meditation. The Scriptures were his constant study; and his life was a living evidence of the efficacy of their teachings, to elevate and purify the character of man, and enlarge his capa- bilities for extensive usefulness. In 1796, William Allen was united in marriage to his first WILLIAM ALLEN. 649 wife, Mary Hamilton, whom he lost in less than a year. The state of his feelings, at that afflicting event, are exhibited with painful vividness in his diary. He was eminently fitted for the enjoyment of domestic and social pleasures ; and the feeling he evinces at each of the many calamities which he endured, do honoui#to his heart and his creed. In proportion as he prospered in business, he became ac- quainted with persons eminent either from character or station. Intercourse with them gradually drew him into association with many scientific or benevolent projects, by which his sphere of usefulness as a man and a Christian was greatly enlarged. When delivering public lectures on chemistry, he seized every opportunity to impress upon his audience the proofs of reli- gion afforded by that science, and the wonderful manner in which it exhibits the workmanship of an infinitely wise Creator. Amid the success which attended these lectures, it is edifying to observe how carefully he guards against vanity and love of ap- plause. At one time, he fears that philosophy has drawn his attention from religion; at another, that it may lead him into hurtful society ; and again, that the time devoted to science is not occupied so profitably as it might be. He acquires know- ledge, not as a philosopher, but a Christian : not by way of self- aggrandizement, but to benefit his felloAv-men. After his second marriage with Charlotte Hanbury, in 1806, he remained in the office of overseer of the Friends' Society until 1813, when he was appointed elder. His labours in this Capacity Avere many and arduous ; besides which, he was engaged with Wilberforce and others, in efforts to abolish slave labour, to christianize Africa, to relieve the distressed manufacturers of England, and to promote the project for the institution of Bible Societies. He was appointed by the Society of Friends to present to the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia, during their visit to London in 1814, petitions and plans for establishing Bible Societies in their dominions. At the same time, he corresponded with dis- tinguished men in diftereut parts of Europe, with a view to effect the same object. In 1816, he was sent on a religious tour through France, Netherlands, and Germany, during which jour- ney he lost his wife, who died near Geneva. He again visited France in the following year ; and in 1818, went to Scotland, f )r the double purpose of promoting the immediate objects of 82 650 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. his eldership and ameliorating the condition of destitute labour- ers. During the same year, and the following, he travelled through the north of Europe, and obtained an interview with the Russian emperor, in order to lay before him a plan for establishing schools in his dominions, a part of the instruction in w^hich would be courses of scriptural readings. The project met with great success. A similar plan for girls' schools was submitted to the empress. Leaving Petersburg, Allen jour- neyed through Russia, visiting Moscow and other places, and en- tered Turkey, everywhere directing his efforts to the great cause ever uppermost in his mind. Returning, he sailed down the Archipelago, touching at Greece, then through the Mediterra- nean to Italy, and then homeward by Switzerland and France. In a subsequent journey, he exerted himself with the emperors of Russia and Austria, in behalf of the oppressed Greeks, and used his influence for the abolition of slavery in different colo- nies and for ameliorating the condition of the Waldenses. <' Remedy (he writes to the Russian emperor in behalf of these oppressed mountaineers) in cases of great oppression is here almost hopeless, because the government will receive nothing that does not come through the regular channel, which is, through the constable and judge of the place, and these are almost al- ways their bitter enemies." During this and later visits to the Continent, he obtained interviews with nearly all the crowned heads, and with the most distinguished men of all professions, using his cfiurts with all for furthering his plans of benevo- lence. In 1827, Allen married his third wife, Grizell Birkbeck, and in 1832 made another tour to the Continent. During this, and his last journey, in 1840, he travelled over nearly all the west and middle of Europe, including Spain, and held religious meet- ings throughout almost all the route. It is wonderful to con- tt-mplate with what energy this man of many 3^ears engaged in distant enterprises and laboured for the good of his fellow-men. *' His engagements in the ministry (his friends remarked after his death) were peculiarly attended with the unction of hea- venly love ; they were marked by great simplicity, and a fer- vent desire that all might be attracted to the Fountain of life, and be made experimental partakers of that refreshing which comes from the presence of the Lord. lie was often led to WILLIAM ALLEN. 661 dwell upon the spiritual nature of true worship, and of thai < bap- tism which now saveth,' and was frequently concerned to bear testimony to the infinite value of the propitiatory sacrifice of the Lord Jesus, dwelling on the redemption that was thereby purchased for fallen man, and on the consolation to be de- rived from the application of this doctrine. The preservation of the youth among us, and their establishment in the truth as it fs in Jesus, were especially the objects of his fervent concern, and he frequently and affectionately exhorted them to attend to the monitions of the Holy Spirit, and to yield obedience to all that was manifested to be consistent with the Divine will. He was a man of prayer, and in his private retirements often poured forth his spirit in earnest supplications at the throne of grace. So great was his sense of the awfulness of publicly calling on the name of the Lord in the congregations of the people, that when he ventured on this solemn engagement he manifested much holy fear and brokenness of spirit, and a bap- tizing power was often sensibly felt to accompany the off'er- ing." _ During the latter part of his life, William Allen resided near Lindfield in Sussex, where he had established schools of indus- try. Here he devoted himself to plans for improving the con- dition of the labouring classes. In 1842, he was attacked with severe illness, which obliged him to withdraw from many of his most useful avocations. " I believe, (he wrote,) this illness is Bent in mercy to me, to wean me more and more from all things below, and to make me look more steadily to the end of time." He recovered sufficiently to unite with his friends in their reli- gious meetings, and occasionally to officiate in ministerial duties. The calmness of his spirit testified that his mind was stayed on God ; but while expressing conviction that his work here was nearly accomplished, he would not wish that his time was either longer or shorter. His final illness lasted nearly eleven weeks, during which time his religious sensibility was lively, his thoughts Lmbracing absent friends as well as those present. When capa- ble of reflection, his mind seemed steadily turned toward hea- venly things ; and Avhen nearly exhausted, he ejaculated " Come Lord, dear Lord." He died at Lindfield, December 30, 1843, in his seventy-third year. He was interred six weeks after, at Stoke Newington, in pi-esence of a large assembly. 652 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. JOSEPH LANCASTER, HO invented the Lancasterian School system, was born in Kent Square, Southwark, (Lon- don,) November 27, 1778. His father had been a soldier in the American war, but, being a man of rare pietv, he took much pains, in conjunction with his wife, to inculcate on his children the principles of piety. "My first impressions," says Lancaster, " of the beauty of the Christian religion were received from their instructions." As a most singular instance of the eifect of these instructions upon his mind, be relates, that when a child he frequently retired to a corner, where he repeated again and again the name of Jesus, bowing each time reverently to it. I seemed to feel," he afterwards said, " that it was the name of one I loved, and to whom my heart performed reverence. I departed from my retirement well satisfied with what I had been doing, and I never remembered it but with delight." The enthusiasm and ardent longing after the good and beautiful in character, which distinguished him when a child, form prominent features in his subsequent history. When eight years old, with a heart "filled with love and devo- tion to God," and "breathings of good-will to the human race," he studied the Gospels, unassisted and in retirement. Six years after, he read " Clarkson's Essay on the Slave Trade." And now a change came over his feelings and his desires. Hitherto he had studied alone and for himself; now he must study and labour for others. Hitherto his enthusiasm had fed upon and gistained itself; henceforward, it must have one mighty object to attain, the struggle for which filled his mind with burning thouglits, which, when wrought into action seemed to other men madness. At fourteen — a boy — friendless and unknown — he adopted the resolution of going to Jamaica to teach the negroes to read the Bible. JOSEPH LANCASTEK. 653 The narrative of his attempted journey to the West Indies is worthy of perusal; displaying, as it does, how genius rightly directed will overcome all difficulties. Young Lancaster left home for Bristol without the knowledge of his parents, and carrying nothing with him except a Bible, the Pilgrim's Pro- gress, and a few shillings. The first night he slept under a hedge, the second under a hay-stack. When his money was exhausted he was sustained by a mechanic whom he met on the road, and who was also travelling to Bristol. Pennyless and almost shoeless, he there engaged as a volunteer, and was sent to Milford Haven, where he embarked. On board he gained from the sailors the title of parson, and occasionally warned them of the temptations incident to their profession. He was soon, how- ever, restored to his parents, through the kindness of a friend From this time, until he was eighteen, he assisted at two schools, one a day the other a boarding-school, where he had an opportunity of examining the defects of the then prevalent school system. He then commenced teaching for himself on the "free" system; taking all children wlio came, and clothing those Avho needed clothing. Soon a new school-room became ne- cessary. One was provided through the benevolence of the Duke of Bedford and Lord Sommerville, and the children "came in for education like flocks of sheep." In a little while they num- bered a thousand. He was the companion, the playmate, the benefactor, as well as the instructor of his pupils ; and as such jie was adored by them. From this state of real happiness he was brought upon the arena of the world to suffer trial, mortifi- cation, applause uncongenial to his feelings, and finally neglect. He became an object of public attention. The facility with which he managed hundreds of rude boys became food for curiosity and speculation. First came the neighbouring gentry on visits; then schoolmasters and professors from some distance ; then speculators and political economists ; then foreign princes, ambassadors, peers, commoners, ladies of distinction, bishops, and archbishops. His writings were dragged to light and passed through edition after edition, each larger than its predecessor. He abandoned the school-room to youths trained under his eye. and was placed on the lecture stand before crowded audi- ences. Even the monarch admitted him to his presence ; and while the humble tutor stood, with hat on head, the monarch 654 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. applauded and remunerated him. A subscription, headed b;jf the names of the royal family, was opened, and money began to pour upon him from every quarter. But with this prosperity came trials to which Lancaster had hitherto been a stranger. He was naturally enthusiastic, now his enthusiasm was heightened to delirium. Then, and years after, his mind was almost constantly in a state of excitement which seemed almost too great for the human frame to endure It seems wonderful that he survived it. Yet from this worldly tumult, for which he was unfitted, he found refuge in the quie* moments of meditation and prayer. At one time the " iroi: hand of affliction and sorrow is upon him;" at another, he it telling the liigh and mighty ones that the decree of heaven hath gone forth, that the poor youth of these nations shall be edu- cated, and it is out of the power of man to reverse it." Now he feels "peaceful and resigned," and that he is '59 THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. HOMAS FOWELL BUXTON was born, xVpril 1, 1786, at Castle Hedingham. His ancestors were of honourable extraction ; and his father at the time of his birth was high- sheriff of Essex county. This parent Thomas { lost when six years old, and the education of himself and two younger sisters devolved upon the mother. <' She was," he says, "a woman of a very vigorous mind, and possessing many of ;he generous virtues in a very high degree. She as large minded about every thing ; disinterested Qost to excess ; careless of difficulty, labour, dan- ger, or expense in the prosecution of any great object. With these nobler qualities were united some of the imperfections which belong to that species of ardent and resolute character." Her management of her children was peculiar. She maintained absolute authority, yet rarely threatened to enforce it. In her system was much liberty but little indulgence. With Thomas she spoke and associated rather as a companion than a mother, so that he began early to think much for himself and of himself. He became, as he himself says, "of a daring, violent, domineering temper;" but after- wards, when time had worn off the asperities of such a character, he often thanked his parent for her training of him, attributing to it that strength of mind and will for which he was ever re- markable. Before he was five years old, Buxton was placed at a school in Kingston, where he learned little and suffered much. His subsequent career of eight years under Dr. Charles Burney of Greenwich was equally brilliant. Burney was kind but injudi- cious. Buxton learned little under him save mischief; and of that he learned so much that he became the dread of well-dis- 660 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. posed boys, and an object of melancholy presentiment concern- ing the future. The means by which Providence roused him from this critical condition was a visit of Mr. Gurney, then near Norwich. The charms of intellect and goodness, so abun- dantly possessed by the family of that man, fascinated him. He was surprised to find even the youngest of eleven children occu- pied in self-education, and inspired with energy in every pur- suit, whether of amusement or knowledge. Henceforward life appeared to him under a new aspect, and his character under- went a complete change. " They were eager for improvement," he subsequently wrote: "I caught the infection. I was resolved to please them ; and in the college of Dublin, at a distance from all my friends and all control, their influence, and the desire to please them, kept me hard at my books, and sweetened the toil they gave." So strong was this "desire to please," that while preparing for the University, he studied morning, noon, and night ; abandoned all misceUaneous reading, and embraced only twice in five years the privilege of engaging in a shooting-match. In 1803, Buxton entered the Dublin University, obtaining the second place at the entrance examination, and the premium at the folloAving one. In the Historical Society connected with the University he won several premiums, and was awarded the society's silver medal. Finally, he received from Trinity College its highest honour, a medal of gold. In 1807, his fel- low students invited him to represent them in Parliament ; but this invitation he declined, in consequence of his engagements with Miss Hannah Gurney, whom, in May of that year, he married. In 1808, he engaged in business in Trueman's brewery, of which he subsequently became partner. During ten years he devoted himself almost exclusively to its afi"airs, until he was relieved gradually of the necessity of attending to it personally, ■and introduced into new scenes and associations. Having be- come acquainted with the distinguished Friend, William Allen, he was induced to take part in the movements favourable to the Bible Society and the poor weavers of England. A long course of silent but earnest meditation on the subjects of religion and philanthropy had prepared him for this new work. The Bible had long been his theological creed ; his perusal of it was habitual and prayerful: and, since 1811, he appears to hav« THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. 661 had powerful convictions of his condition as a sinner. When, in connection with these feelings, we associate his character by nature — his strong love of truth, his integrity and conscientious- ness, his dislike of pomp or empty forms, his practical devotion to whatever cause he took up — the importance of his agency in a work of moral reform may be easily divined. In November, 1816, Mr. Buxton made his first public speech. It was in behalf of the Spitalfields weavers, then in great dis- tress, and resulted in raising for them more than forty-three thousand pounds. In the following year he visited Paris, for the purpose of establishing in that city^ a branch of the Bible Society. About the same time appeared liis work on prison discipline, containing painful exposures of the barbarous treatment of criminals in the British jails. It passed through six editions, was praised by Sir James Mackintosh in the House of Commons, and found its way through Europe as far as* Turkey. Next year he was sent to Parliament for Weymouth. While there he made several speeches, and was unwearied in his opposition to capital punishment, except in cases of murderers, and the abolition of slavery. For his efforts in the latter course he w^as, in 1823, chosen one of the vice-presidents of the Anti-Slavery Society established in that year. On the 15th of May, of the same year, he moved in Parliament, " That the House take into consideration the state of slavery in the British colonies." An animated debate ensued ; but we may remark, as fruit of this early effort, that circulars were addressed to the West Indian planters, requiring them to provide the means of religious instruction for their slaves ; to stop Sunday markets and Sunday labour ; to allow slaves to have property by law ; to legalize their mar- riages ; to abolish the corporal punishment of females ; to re- strain the power of arbitrary punishment, &c. These circulars produced frightful commotions among the planters ; sei I'ous thoughts were entertained of opposing by open force the ugent.s of the parent government ; and, by way of satisfaction, humireds of slaves who had rejoiced at the doings of the " great king " in their favour, were shot, lashed to death, or executed after mock trials. Government shamefully retreating from the position it had taken, Buxton suddenly found himself the most unpopular man in London, and the whole affair was necessarily suspended. On the ly^ of June, 1824, the subject was again introduced 3 K 662 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS to the House by Mr. Brougham, who, in a speech of four hours* length, brought forward the case of the martyr missionary, Smith, and of the suffering negroes. This turned the tide of popular opinion, which from that day ran strongly against slavery. To a petition which Mr. Buxton presented in 1826, seventy-two thousand names had been signed by residents in London alone. In the following year he collected evidence on the shive trade, in connection with Mauritius. The horrible cases of suffering examined by him during this investigation threw him into such a state of feeling as brought on fever and apo- plexy, from which he narrowly escaped with his life. But his labours in this instance were crowned Avith success. Government still inclined to lenient measures. It trusted to the honour of the planters for accomplishing needful changes of character, and gradual emancipation of person. But in the British islands tke slave population decreased in a ratio of one- eighth in twenty-three years ; each slave worked from fifteen to nineteen hours a day ; and the rancour of tlie planters incj'eased up to the hour of abolition. The negroes had passed the limit of human endurance ; a general revolt was near at hand ; already turaults were taking place in Jamaica; and the planters, as though inviting the vengeance of government, destroyed seven- teen chapels, insulted and abused pastor and congregation, and avowed their determination to extirpate Christianity from their midst. Then Parliament took up the matter in earnest; and, in August, 1838, the glorious bill was passed, abolishing slavery in the British West Indies. With like earnestness did this benevolent man labour for the abolition of the African slave trade; and in 1828 he had the satisfaction of seeing the Hottentots liberated along the shores of South Africa. In 1829, he voted for the "Emancipation" Bill — an action which evinces that, though firmly convinced of the errors of Popery, he Avas ever ready to vindicate the rights^ of Catholics as citizens and Christians. Ho likewise voted with the Whigs for the Appropriation clause of the Irish Tithe Bill. *'How has it been," he remarked on that occasion, ''that truth itself — backed by a Protestant establishment, by a Protestant, king a Protestant army, a Protestant parliament — that truth- Itself, 80 far from advancing, has not kept her ground against^ '^rror? My solution of the question is, that we have resorted THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. « . to force where reason alone could prevail. We have forgotten that though the sword may do its work — mow down armies and subdue nations — it cannot carry conviction to the understanding of men; nay, the very use of force tends to create a barrier to the reception of that truth which it intends to promote. We have forgotten that there is something in the human breast, no base or sordid feeling, the same which makes a generous mind cleave with double affection to a distressed and injured friend, and which makes men cleave with ten-fold fondness — deaf to reason, deaf to remonstrance, reckless of interest, prodigal of life — to a persecuted religion. I charge the failure of Protes- tants in converting the Irish upon the head of Protestant as- cendancy." In 1837, Mr. Buxton lost his election for Weymouth, and embraced the opportunity to retire to private life, although twenty-seven offers were made to him to stand for other districts. In 1839 he visited France and Italy, inspecting the prisons in his route. In 1840, Queen Victoria bestowed on him the rank of Baronet. His health was now much shattered, and during the three succeeding years steadily grew worse. His last days were spent in exercises of devotion. When near his departure, he replied to a remark that he had a firm hold on Christ, "Yes, indeed, I have, unto eternal life." He quietly expired on the 19th of February, 1844. He was buried in the ruined chancel of the church at Overstrand, where a monument was subsequently erected to commemorate his virtues. It is a pleasing evidence of the manner in which his labours were regarded by the negroes, that four hundred and fifty pounds of the subscription money was contributed by them, chiefly in pence and half-pence. On the monument a full length statue is yet to be erected. 664 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, UTHOR of "The Ancient Mariner," and the transhitor of " Wallenstein," was born on the 20th of October, 1772, at Otter j St. f>/-^wio)p^^^ Mary, in Devonshire; the elei^enth and ^Sba^^JW^ youngest chikl of the Rev. John Coleridge, ' Vicar of that Parish. His father having pro- cured a presentation to Christ's Hospital for lim, he was placed there in 1782, in the same year with his friend Charles Lamb, who was three years younger than himself. Here, under the jare of the Rev. James Bowj^er, head-master cf the ^rammar-school, he was early distinguished for the scholarship, and it may be added, for those peculiari- ;ies of mind and personal habits that marked his after ireer. Mr. Bowyer, we are told in Mr. Coleridge's interesting and singular ''Biographia Literaria," was not only a zealous and clear-sighted guide for him to the riches of the Greek and Roman poets, but a searching and sarcastic critic of the metrical school exercises, in which his pupil gave his first tokens of possessing oi-iginal genius. Thus it happened that young Coleridge's taste was cultivated and rendered fastidious before his powers were at all developed ; and, apart from the peculiar physical orgatiizaticn which throughout after-life ope- rated on his mind as a burden and a hinderance in the work of production and accomplishment, this very circumstance of hia education, at first sight seeming so advantageous, may have contributed to indispose him to attempt any continuous effort, or to complete it if attempted. Other studies, which even then exercised over him a master- influence, were not lesa unfavourable to his yielding wholly to poetical iu pulses. " At a very premature age," says he, "even before my fifteenth year, I h'ad bewildered myself in raetaphy- SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 666 sics and in theological controversy. History and particular facts lost all interest in my mind. * * * j^ ^nj friendless wanderings en our leave days^ (for I was an orphan, and had scarcely any connections in London, J highly was I delighted if any passenger, especially if dressed in black, would enter into conversation with me, for I soon found the means of directing it to my favourite subjects — Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate- Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute," From the perplexities of these momentous topics, so dispro- portionate with his mental strength at that period, the boy metaphysician was for a time diverted, by his making friendship with the sonnets of the Rev. Mr. Bowles. So ardently did he adopt these, that his funds not warranting purchases, "he made," he tells us, "within less than a year and a half, no less than forty transcriptions, as the best presents I could offer to those who had in any way won my regard." The freshness of their imagery, the healthy simplicity of their language, not only enchanted their enthusiastic admirer, but invited him to attempt something of his own, which should possess similar excellencies. It was not, however, till the year 1794, that he ventured into print. In the interim, his fortunes had undergone strange vicissitudes. He had remained at Christ's Hospital till he was nineteen, when having, as grecian or captain of the school, won an exhibition to the university, he entered Jesus College, Cam- bridge, on the 7th of September, 1791. But the discipline of a college was no less uncongenial, whether to the man or to his mind, than they subsequently proved to the gentle-hearted Shelley. From his cradle to his grave, Mr. Coleridge was marked by singularity of habits, amounting to the most entire non-conformity with the ways and calculations of men. In the common relations of life he was undecided and inconsiderate, — loving better to sit still and discuss some knotty point, than to rise up and act. The same languor of spirit which prevented him from ever advancing his worldly fortunes, and which ero long took the form of bodily disease, — the same perverseness which made him, when travelling to solicit subscriptions for a periodical (The Watchman) which he was about to establish, choose for the subject of an harangue, in the house of one whose pat/onage in his undertaking he was seeking, the unprofitable- 84 3 k2 666 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. ness and unlawfulness of all periodicals, — rendeiod him desul- tory and capricious in his college studies, allowed him to fall into pecuniary difficulties, and finally contributed to his- quitting- college without having taken his degree. Like some others of his friends, too, he had disqualified himself for a university career, by having caught the Jacobinical spirit of the time, as " Robespierre," a hastily produced drama, which he wrote in conjunction with his friend Southey — as that tremendous phi- lippic, ''Fire, Famine, and Slaughter," sufficiently attest. The history of mind would contain few more curious chapters than that which should trace the changes in opinion of those young authors, who entered the world together so fiercely resolved to stand or fall under the banner of liberty and equality ! On leaving Cambridge, Mr. Coleridge -was exposed to the severest privations, and after a few days of distress and perplexity in London, took the desperate step of enlisting himself as a private soldier, in the fifteenth regiment Elliot's Light Dragoons, under the assumed name of " Comberback," with the view of retrieving his fortunes. But he was as unapt and unready in all bodily exercises as he was rich in recondite learning. Though orderly and obedient, he could not rub down his horse ; and being detected by his commanding officer, Cap- tain Ogle, as the scrawler of a Latin quotation upon the wall of the stables at Reading, where the regiment was quartered, the circumstance led to his discharge. It may be added, on the authority and in the words of the Rev. W. L. Bowles, that "by far the most correct, sublime, chaste, and beautiful of his poems, 'Religious Musings,' was written non inter sylvas Acadevii^ but in the tap-room at Reading." The date of Mr. Coleridge's first publication, which took place shortly after this period, has been given. The work was favour- ably received by a few, and cried down only by such superficial and overweening critics as welcomed Mr. Wordsworth's first poetical essays with -d. fatal " This will never do !" In the win- ter of 1794-5, having joined the Pantisocratians, (to whom fuller allusion is made elsewhere,) we find him lecturing at Bristol on the French Revolution, but without much method or regularity, and it was eminently characteristic of the man, (who must always, be considered separately from the poet and the metaphysician,) •ihat he rushed into the scheme without any worldly substance* SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 667 and even considered himself as furthering its purp^/ses by his early marriage with Miss Fricker, which took place in the same year. The scheme of Pantisocracy was soon found to be but a broken reed to lean upon, and the poet having settled himself at Nether Stowey — where many of his most delicious verses were written, — was obliged to endeavour to make his literary attainments available for his maintenance. A periodical, devoted to the utterance of liberal opinions, was planned, " by sundry philan- thropists and anti-polemists." This was the "Watchman,'* whose ill-success might be augured from the anecdote mentioned awhile since ; and having lingered through its short and sickly life, no one will wonder at finding it presently used as waste paper for the lighting of fires in its editor's cottage. Mr. Cole- ridge also eked out his means, at this time, by contributing occasional poems to a morning paper. In the year 1797, his volume of poetry went to a second edi- tion, and, at Sheridan's request, he wrote his beautiful tragedy of "Remorse," which, however, was not performed till the year 1813, and then with but moderate success. About this time, Mr. Wordsworth was resident at Nether Stowey ; with this gen- tleman Mr. Coleridge contracted a close and affectionate intimacy. Each of the two was anxious to do his part in what they con- ceived might prove the revival of true poetry, and between them the " Lyrical Ballads" were planned. In the execution of this joint work, Mr. Coleridge was " to direct his endeavours to per- sons and characters supernatural, or at least romantic, yet so as to transfer from our inward nature a human interest, and a resemblance of truth sufiicient to procure for these shadows of imagination, that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith." In fulfilment of this intention, the "Ancient Mariner," (that marvel among modern legends,) the " Genevieve," — in itself the most exquisite of love-tales, and yet but thrown off as the introduction to a story of mystery never completed; — and the first part of "Christabel" were writ- ten. The second part of this fragment, whose fate it has been to be first more scorned, next more quoted, lastly more admired, than most contemporary poems, was not added till after its author's return from Germany. It was while Mr. Coleridge was residing at Nether Stowey, that he occasionally officiated as a 668 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. Unitarian i minister, at Taunton ; and he might probably havt been promoted to the regular charge of a congregation at Shrewsbury, had not the liberality of his friends, the Mr. Wedg- woods, offered him the alternative of the means wherewith he might proceed to Germany and complete his studies according^ to his own plan. The latter he was sure to accept. Mr. Haz- litt has left a delightful record among his literary remains, — uf Mr. Coleridge's trial sermon at Shrewsbury, and of his fasci- nating powers of eloquence and conversation ; this is followed by a no less interesting picture of the poet's manner of life at Nether Stowey. Had it been possible these should have been quoted here, together with Mr. Coleridge's own anecdote from the '< Biographia," telling how he was dogged by a government spy for many weeks together, while he was wandering among the Quantock hills, and dreaming of one of the thousand works, of which ** His eyes made pictures, when they were shut — " but which his hand never executed — a contemplative and descrip- tive poem, to be called <•' The Brook." It was on the 16th of September, 1798, that Mr. Coleridge set sail for Hamburgh, from Yarmouth. The details of this voyage, of his interview with Klopstock, of his subsequent resi- dences at Ratzeburg and Gottingen, were journalized in his own delightful letters : it is enough for us to say, that he returned to his own country in 1801, imbued with the best spirit of Ger- man literature ; his researches into its philosophy having wrought for him the somewhat unforeseen result of a change from the Unitarian to the Trinitarian belief. That he continued a stanch disciple of the latter faith for the remainder of his days, his prose works and his will afford ample evidence. On his return to England, Mr. Coleridge took up his residence- at Keswick, in the neighbourhood of his friends Wordsworth and Southey ; there he translated Schiller's Wallenstein, which was published immediately ; and though, for its wonderful spirit and fidelity, — the latter not a dry closeness of words, but a len- dering of thoughts by thoughts, — it was, on its appearing, felt to be a remarkable work — unique in our language, and raising the translator to an equality with the original author — it was long and strangely neglected, a second edition not being called for till the year 1828. JVow, could ve call up " the old man SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 6i59 eloquent," as Sir Walter Scott threatened might be done of " Christabel," we should be tempted (could only one wish be granted) to demand of him a version of the untranslatable "Faust," secure that in his hands, that wonderful drama would be as admirably naturalized into our literature as the master- woik of " Schiller." Shortly after his return from Germany, Mr. Coleridge joined himself as a literary and political contributor to the " Morning Post," stipulating, in the first instance, "that the paper should be conducted on certain fixed principles, these being anti-minis- terial, and with greater earnestness and zeal, both anti-jacobin and anti-gallican." He laments over the time and talent ex- pended in this compulsory toil, which would have been easily discharged, nor felt burdensome by any one more happily con- stituted, or self-trained for diligent effort. And, in afterwards speaking of literature as a profession, he would, like too many besides him, do reason and justice wrong by describing its drudgery in gloomier colours than are used with reference to the uninteresting labour necessary to every other profession. But his mind was always teeming and pregnant, rather thac- active ; and it was enchained in a feeble body, to the wants of which, perhaps, self-indulgence had given too much mastery. Mr. Coleridge could move others by his inspired conversation, by a few words crowded into the margin of a book, or let drop in conversation ; he could clear up a dark point in literature, or illustrate a principle in philosophy, or open an avenue for his disciples to advance along in the pursuit of truth ; but work himself, save in a fragmentary manner, he seems to have been positively unable. We find him in 1804, at Malta, appointed as Secretary to Sir Alexander Ball; with a superior whom he loved, as may be seen by the elaborate and grave panegyric he has left in "The Friend," — and a liberal salary. But lie Avas incapable of performing the duties of ofl5ce even under such favourable circumstances ; and after a ramble through Italy and Rome, he returned to England, again to prove the precarious- ness of the life of those whose sole dependence is upon thoughts which they cannot, or will not, take the labour and patience to work out in a complete and Available form. In writing Mr. Coleridge's life, this feature of his character should be fully displayed and dwelt upon : even in this brief 670 LIVES OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS. sketch it claims a distinct mention, though with reverence -and sympathy. On his return to England, we find him lecturing on poetry and the fine arts, at the Royal Institution, in the year 1808 ; next sojourning at Grasmere, where he planned and pub- lished " The Friend," a periodical which was dropped at the twenty-eighth number. Nor is this Avonderful : there was a want of variety in the topics embraced in this miscellany; and the metaphysical and philosophical subjects on which its contriver delighted principally to dwell, were grave and involved; nor by their manner of treatment likely to be rendered accept- able to a public large enough to support a periodical, had he been regular enough to have continued it. '<■ The tendency of his mind," writes one who understood him well, '^to speculations of the most remote and subtle character, led him into regions where to follovr was no easy flight. To read his philosophical discourses is a mental exercise which few are now willing to un- dertake ; and it is surpi-ising that many will describe him as vague, intricate, and rhapsodical. For those, however, who study his writings as they deserve and demand, they are highly suggestive, and full of no common instruction, as excursions of a mind which, in compass and elevation, had certainly no peer among his English contemporaries. Of the peculiar character of his philosophy, as applied to various branches of knowledge, whether in ethics, criticism, history, or metaphysical science, it would be impossible to aff'ord even the most imperfect sketch in this place. He may be said to have finally adopted an eclectic system of his own, strongly tinctured with the academic doc- trines, and enriched with ideas gathered from the eminent Ger- man teachers of philosophy, to which he added a certain devout mysticism resting upon revealed religion. In the uttering of his tenets, circumstance no less than choice directed him to the dogmatic method ; which, indeed, to be fixed in tlie conviction of certain positive and supreme truths, he must in any case na- turally have followed. * * * His age was chiefly devoted to the verbal exposition of his scheme of a Christian philosophy, in which his mind had found a calm and satisfied refuge: his * Aids to Reflection' can but be considered as prolusions to the longer discourse, the 'Magnum Opus,' in which he meant to un- told his system in all its fulness." The above pafc^sage, as containing in some wise a general SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 371 cliaractcr of tlie prose works of this extraordinary man, has been permitted to break the fragile thread of our biographical notice. But there is little more to be told. After living for a short time at Grasmere, he came again to London, and finally set up his rest at Highgate, in the house of Mr. and Mrs. Gil- man. With these faithful friends he continued to sojourn during the remainder of his life. In 1816, (to complete the list of his works,) " Christabel" was published; then followed his '. Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 1 1012 01218 2855