IHI 
 
 POWER 
 
 RELIGION ON THE MIND, 
 
 RETIREMENT, AFFLICTION, 
 
 AND 
 
 AT THE APPROACH OF DEATH; 
 
 EXEMPLIFIED IN 
 
 The Testimonies and Experience 
 
 or PERSON'S DISTINGUISHED SY THEIR 
 
 GREATNESS, LEARNING, OR VIRTUE. 
 
 'tis immortality, 'tis that alonr, 
 
 amidst life's pains, abasements, emptinesf, 
 
 tub ioul can comfort, elevate, and fill. rouxo. 
 
 Br LINDLEY MURRAY, 
 
 A'JTHQR Or AN ENGLISH GRAMMAR, $C. t$C. 
 THE .FIFTEENTH EDITION. 
 
 Printed by Thorats Wiion indSoa, High-Omegate, 
 
 M LOVOV.'N, HURST, REKS, ORVE, AND BROWN J AND FUR DARTON AND 
 
 U'lVl.V, LONDON: FOR WIISON AND SON, YORK: AND 
 
 FOR CONSTAUIE AND CO. IP! NBt'RCK.
 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 To excite serious reflections on the un- 
 satisfying and transitory nature of temporal 
 enjoyments ; and to promote a lively concern 
 for the attainment of that felicity, which will 
 be complete and permanent ; are the objects 
 of the present publication. 
 
 Piety and virtue, abstractedly considered, 
 are truly amiable, and appear worthy of our 
 earnest pursuit. But when recommended by 
 
 A2
 
 iv INTRODUCTION, 
 
 the lives and testimonies of eminent persons, 
 .who have known the world, and experienced 
 the emptiness of its honours, wealth, and 
 pleasures, they derive additional importance; 
 and constrain us to acknowledge, that the 
 greatest happiness of man is to be found in 
 religion. 
 
 Among the most important blessings, which 
 the Divine Being has conferred upon man* 
 kind, may be numbered, the happy display 
 of good and pious examples. In every age 
 and country, perhaps in almost every little 
 district throughout the earth, he has placed 
 some of his faithful servants, or returning 
 prodigals, to bear witness of his power and 
 goodness, and to encourage others to a life 
 of purity, piety, and beneficence.
 
 INTRODUCTION. Y 
 
 The following pages exhibit a few of those 
 striking examples. In the quiet hour of re- 
 flection, they may contribute to arrest the 
 careless and wandering ; to animate the sin- 
 cere and virtuous j and to alarm those who 
 have rejected the most important truths, and 
 
 who contemn the restraints of religion and 
 virtue. 
 
 A number of our felIow T - creatures, of dif- 
 ferent periods, countries, and conditions in 
 life, standing on the confines of mortality, 
 and bearing a uniform and undisguised testi- 
 mony to the power and excellence of religion, 
 presents a solemn and interesting spectacle. 
 With the prospect of immortality before them, 
 and no longer influenced by those concerns 
 
 and passions which obscure the undersland- 
 
 A3
 
 VI INTRODUCTION". 
 
 ing and harden the heart, they must be sup- 
 posed to view their objects through a proper 
 medium, and to speak the language of truth 
 and soberness. 
 
 May the important testimonies of these 
 preachers of righteousness, lead us to just 
 and seasonable reflections on the state of our 
 own minds ; and produce a reverent appli- 
 cation to our heavenly Father, for the aid 
 of his Holy Spirit, to enlighten and animate 
 us, and to conduct us safely through the 
 paths of life ! May his gracious protection 
 be witnessed at the close of our day, when 
 the shadows of the evening shall approach, 
 the glittering vanities of the world be ob- 
 scured, and all its friendships and resource:? 
 be found unavailing.
 
 introduction. vii 
 
 In that awful hour, this Divine support will 
 preserve us from being distressed with mourn- 
 ful retrospects on the past, or with gloomy 
 apprehensions of what is to come. It will 
 also afford true peace and resignation of mind ; 
 and enable us to look forward, with animating 
 hope, toward those happy regions, which 
 shall then be allotted to us for an eternal 
 inheritance, 
 
 A 4
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO THE TENTH EDITION. 
 
 The tenth edition of this book has under- 
 gone considerable alterations. Twenty two 
 characters, comprising near a hundred pages, 
 have been added to the work; and a few 
 passages of inferior importance, or not im- 
 mediately connected with the design of it, 
 have been omitted. Almost every former piece 
 has been augmented by explanatory matter; 
 and the language, throughout, carefully cor- 
 rected. The work is regularly divided; and 
 the pieces are arranged according to the order 
 of time. In its present state, the compiler 
 trusts the book will prove more acceptable 
 to persons of mature years, and be found
 
 X ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 calculated for the benefit of many in younger 
 life. As it contains striking and animating 
 views of piety and virtue, and strongly re- 
 commends the Christian religion, he hopes 
 that instructers of youth will deem it a suit- 
 able book to be read, occasionally, by the 
 higher classes of their pupils. It is of the 
 greatest importance, to impress young minds 
 with favourable sentiments of religion and 
 goodness ; and to make them feel, that every 
 other attainment ought to be subordinate to 
 a preparation for future happiness. 
 
 To render the work more instructive, as 
 well as more interesting, the compiler has 
 introduced into this edition, many impor- 
 tant moral sentiments, and a considerable 
 portion of useful, biographical information, 
 These introductory narratives will, he trusts, 
 be found intimately connected with the chief 
 design of the work. They gratify curiosity,
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. Kl 
 
 respecting the general character of the per- 
 sons whose solemn sentiments are exhibited; 
 they confer additional importance on the tes- 
 timonies in favour of religion; and they re* 
 lieve the mind from the effect, which a suc- 
 cession of deeply serious matter would occa- 
 sion. 
 
 Holdcate, near York, 1801,
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter r. 
 
 JOB SOLOMON CYRUS CONFUCIUS 'SOCRATES . 
 
 STEPHEN THE FROTOMARTYR ' THE APOSTLE PAUL 
 
 IGNATIUS POLYCARP THE VENERABLE BEDE LOUIS IX. 
 
 KING OF FRANCE POPE EUGEN1US CARDINAL BEAWFORT 
 
 CESAR BORGIA Pag 1 
 
 Chapter ii. 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY SIR JOHN MASON EMTEROR CHARLES T. 
 
 SIR THOMAS SMITH BERNARD GILPIN JANE, QUEEM 
 
 Or NAVARRE SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM LADY JANB 
 
 GREY SIR WALTER RALEIGH RICHARD HOOKER 55 
 
 Chapter hi. 
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY SIR CHRISTOPHER. HATTON LORD BACOS 
 
 SIR HENRY WOTTON PETER DU MOULIN DR. DONNK 
 
 PHILIP III. KING OF SPAIN CATHAIUNE BUETTERG 
 
 OXENSTIERN, CHANCELLOR OK SWEDEN- HUGO GROT1VS 
 
 JOHN SELDEN CARDINAL RICHELIEU LORD HARRINGTON 
 
 SALMASIU J 1 V
 
 XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter iv. 
 
 CARDINAL MAZARIKE BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE ANN* 
 
 MARIA SCHURMAN SIR MATTHEW HALE DU RENTI 
 
 PRINCESS ELIZABETH WILLIAM MOMPESSON ADMIRAL 
 
 PEjiN Page 15* 
 
 Chapter v. 
 
 PASCAL V1LLIERS, DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM- 
 
 BOYLE JOHN LOCKE JOHN JANEWAY EARL P 
 
 MARLBOROUGH ,.. 195 
 
 Chapter vi. 
 
 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL JANE RATCLIFFE SIR ISAAC 
 
 NEWTON BISHOP BURNET JOHN, EARL OF EO- 
 
 CHESTER * 231 
 
 Chapter vii. 
 
 QUEEN MARY HERMAN BOERHAAVE JOSEPH ADDISON 
 
 ANNE BAYNARD ELIZABETH ROWE DOCTOR 
 
 WATTS 27 3
 
 CONTENTS. XV 
 
 Chapter viii. 
 
 COLONEL GARDINER LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS- 
 
 H. HOUSMAN DOCTOR DODDRIDGE,,.., Page 311 
 
 Chapter ix. 
 
 LOUIS, DUKE or ORLEANS SOAMK JENYNS LORD 
 
 LYTTELTOJ* JONAS HANWAY ANTHONY BENEZET 
 
 JAMES HERVEY ALTAMONT, OR THE DEATH OF THE 
 
 LIBEHTJNE 347 
 
 Chapter x. 
 
 BARON HALLER JOHN HOWARD NEWTON's LETTERS 
 
 ZIMMERMAN JAMES HAY BEATTIE SIR WILLIAM 
 
 JONES 401 
 
 CONCLUSION 4-55 
 
 ALPHABETICAL INDEX i mHtHtiiii i "J
 
 CBntcreD at gtfationettf lpa\U
 
 THE 
 
 POWER OF RELIGION* & c , 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 JOB SOLOMON CYRUS CONFUCIUS SOCRATES STEPHEN 
 
 THE PROTOMARTVR THE APOSTLE PAUL IGNATIUS 
 
 POLYCARP LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCK POPS EUGENtVS 
 
 CARDINAL BEAUFORT CESAR BORCM. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 THE PATRIARCH JOB. 
 
 X His venerable patriarch was so eminent an 
 instance of the power of religion on the mind, 
 under the most trying afflictions, that a short 
 account of him may properly introduce these 
 memoirs. 
 
 In the first part of his days, this distinguished 
 person was the greatest of all the men of thr
 
 2 JOB. 
 
 East." His possessions were large ; his family 
 was numerous and flourishing ; his own cha- 
 racter was fair and blameless: yet this person it 
 pleased God to visit with extraordinary reverses 
 of fortune. He was robbed of his whole sub- 
 stance. His sons and daughters all perished; 
 and he himself, fallen from his high estate, child- 
 less and reduced to poverty, was smitten with 
 sore disease. His friends came about him, seem- 
 ingly with the purpose of administering comfort j 
 but, from a harsh and ill-founded construction of 
 the intention of Providence, in his disasters, they 
 only added to his sorrows, by unjust upbraiding. 
 
 In distress so poignant, what was the temper 
 of this good man ? Fully persuaded that all bless- 
 ings come from God, who has a right to with- 
 hold or distribute them, as he sees best, he 
 piously exclaims: " The Lord gave, and the 
 Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of 
 the Lord!" 
 
 To his other calamities, this domestic affliction 
 was added, that his wife, who ought to have 
 soothed and alleviated his sorrows, provoked his
 
 JOB. 
 
 S 
 
 indignation, by an impious speech. What firm- 
 ness and resignation are marked in his answer 
 to her ! " Thou speakest as one of the foolish 
 women speaketh. What! shall we receive good 
 at the hand of God, and shall we not receive 
 evil ?" Though he forcibly felt the deplorable 
 condition to which he was reduced, and most 
 pathetically described and bewailed it, yet no 
 doubt of Divine Goodness, no murmur against 
 Providence, was suffered to rise in his mind. 
 " In all this Job sinned not with his lips, nor 
 charged God foolishly." 
 
 At length, the goodness of that God whom he 
 served, and who had secretly supported him 
 under all his sufferings, broke forth upon him 
 with increased energy; and, like a cheering sun 
 dispersing the surrounding gloom, again glad- 
 dened his heart with returning peace and pros- 
 perity. His riches were restored to him two- 
 fold. The loss of his former children was re- 
 paired by a new offspring. His name became 
 again renowned in the East; "and the latter 
 end of Job was more blessed than the begin- 
 ning." 
 
 Ba
 
 ( * ) 
 
 SECTION It. 
 
 SOLOMON. 
 
 SOLOMON is one of the most interesting and 
 extraordinary characters mentioned in the sacred 
 Scriptures. The advice which this prince re- 
 ceived from his father David, a short time before 
 his decease, is very remarkable; and doubtless 
 made a deep impression on his mind: " Thou, 
 Solomon, my son, know thou the God of thy 
 father ; and serve him with a perfect heart, and 
 with a willing mind : for the Lord searcheth all 
 hearts. If thou seek him, he will be found of 
 thee: but if thou forsake him, he will cast thee 
 off for ever." 
 
 This king having made a great and solemn 
 offering to God, soon after his accession to the 
 throne, the Lord was well pleased with his piety 
 and zeal; and desired him to " ask what he 
 should give him," Humbled under the sense of 
 the goodness of God to hi m ana " of his incapa-
 
 SOLOMON. 5 
 
 city to govern so numerous a people, he de- 
 clared that " he was but a little child :" and, 
 instead of riches, and honour, and length of 
 days, he desired that God would bestow upon 
 him wisdom and knowledge, that he might pru- 
 dently and happily rule tne nation over which 
 he had placed him. This choice was so much 
 approved by the Almighty, that he gave him a 
 wise and understanding heart, and added riches 
 and honour to the gift. 
 
 Solomon was directed by God to build hitn a 
 temple at Jerusalem ; and this order he faith- 
 fully executed. The prayer which he made at 
 the dedication of this grand edifice, breathes the 
 most devout and humble disposition, and the 
 most ardent desire for the true happiness of his 
 people. One can scarcely ever peruse it, with- 
 out feeling a degree of that pious ardour, which 
 pervaded and animated the breast of the royal 
 supplicant, on this solemn occasion. 
 
 This illustrious prince, at one period of his 
 life, flattered himself with great enjoyments from 
 the world. lie sought for, and obtained, all the
 
 6 SOLOMON. 
 
 means of pleasure ; but found himself, in the 
 end, greatly disappointed. The result of this 
 search and experiment, he gives us, in these 
 memorable lines. " I said to my heart, I will 
 prove thee with mirth ; therefore enjoy pleasure : 
 and, behold ! this also is vanity. I made great 
 works, built houses, planted vineyards, made 
 gardens and orchards, and planted trees in them 
 of all kinds of fruits. I procured servants and 
 maidens ; I gathered silver and gold, and the 
 peculiar treasure of kings. I obtained men and 
 women singers, and the delights of the sons of 
 men, as musical instruments, and those of all 
 sorts. So I was great, and increased more than 
 all that were before me in Jerusalem : and what- 
 ever my eyes desired, I kept not from them; 
 I withheld not my heart from any joy. Then I 
 looked on the works which my hands had 
 wrought ; and, behold! all was vanity and vex- 
 ation of spirit." 
 
 After this full persuasion, that real happiness 
 was not to be found in sensual pleasure or 
 worldly honours, he concludes with solemnly 
 recommending piety and virtue, as the great
 
 SOLOMON. 7 
 
 objects for which we were brought into being; 
 and which will not only yield the best enjoy- 
 ments of life, but will support us in that day, 
 when we must make up our final account. 
 " Fear God, and keep his commandments. 
 This is the whole duty of man. For God will 
 bring every work into judgment, whether it be 
 good or whether it be evil." 
 
 " When we reflect," says Dr. Blair, " on the 
 character of him who delivered these sentiments, 
 we cannot but admit that they deserve a serious 
 and attentive examination. For they are not 
 the declarations of a pedant, who, from an ob- 
 scure retirement, declaims against pleasures 
 which he never knew. They are not the in- 
 vectives of a discontented man, who takes re- 
 venge upon the world, by satirising those enjoy- 
 ments which he sought in vain to obtain. They 
 are the conclusions of a great and prosperous 
 prince, who had once given full scope to his 
 desires; who was thoroughly acquainted with 
 life in its most flattering scenes; and who now, 
 reviewing all that he had enjoyed, delivers to us 
 the result of long experience, and tried wisdom." 
 
 Bi
 
 ( 8 ) 
 
 section in: 
 
 CYRUS. 
 
 CYRUS may justly be considered as the most 
 accomplished prince that we read of in profane 
 history. He was possessed of wisdom, modera- 
 tion, magnanimity; a genius for forming, and 
 prudence for executing, the greatest designs. 
 Of this extraordinary person, the Almighty said,; 
 " He is my shepherd, and shall perform all my 
 pleasure:" and he was accordingly made use of 
 as an eminent instrument to punish wicked na- 
 tions^ and to promote the Divine will respecting 
 the children of Israel. 
 
 When this great prince perceived the ap- 
 proach of death, he ordered his children, and 
 the chief officers of state, to be assembled around 
 him. On this occasion, the influence of religion 
 on his heart was very conspicuous. He solemnly 
 thanked the Supreme Being for all the favours 
 fie had conferred upon him, through the course
 
 CYRUS. 9 
 
 of his life ; implored the same care and protec- 
 tion for his children, his country, and his friends; 
 and declared his eldest son, Cambyses, his suc- 
 cessor, leaving the other several very consider- 
 able governments. He gave excellent instruc- 
 tions to both of them. He observed, that the 
 chief strength and support of the throne, were 
 not vast extent of country, number of forces, 
 nor immense riches, but just veneration towards 
 God, good understanding between brethren, and 
 the acquisition of true and faithful friends. " I 
 conjure you, therefore," said he, " my dear 
 children, in the name of Heaven, to respect and 
 love one another, if you retain any desire to 
 please me for the future. For I do not think 
 you will judge me to have no existence, because 
 you will not see me after my death. You have 
 never yet seen my soul : you must, however, 
 have known by its actions, that it really existed. 
 Can you believe, that honours would still be paid 
 to persons, whose bodies are now but ashes, if 
 their souls had no longer any being or power? 
 No, no, my sons ; I could never believe that the 
 soul lived only whilst in a mortal body, and died 
 when separated from it. But if I mistake, and
 
 10 CYRUS. 
 
 nothing of me shall remain after death, fear the 
 Deity, who never dies, who sees all things, and 
 whose power is infinite. Fear him; and let that 
 fear prevent you from ever doing, or deliberating 
 to do, any thing contrary to religion and virtue. 
 Next to him, fear mankind, and the ages to 
 come. You cannot be buried in obscurity: you 
 are exposed upon a grand theatre to the view of 
 the world. If your actions are upright and bene- 
 volent, be assured they will augment your power 
 and glory. With regard to my body, my sons, 
 when life has forsaken it, enclose it neither in 
 gold nor silver, nor in any other matter what- 
 ever. Restore it immediately to the earth.'* 
 Perceiving himself to be at the point of death, 
 he concluded with these words: "Adieu, dear 
 children ! May your lives be happy ! Carry my 
 last remembrance to your mother. And you, 
 my faithful friends, those absent as well as those 
 that are present, receive this last farewell! May 
 you live in peace!" After he had said this, he 
 covered his face and died, greatly lamented by 
 the nations over whom he had reigned.
 
 ( 11 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 Confucius, the celebrated Chinese philosopher, 
 was born in the kingdom of Lou, 55 1 years before 
 the Christian era. When a child, he had a grave 
 and serious deportment, which gained him re- 
 spect, and plainly foretold what he would one 
 day be. But he was most distinguished by his 
 unexampled and exalted piety. He honoured his 
 relations ; he endeavoured in all things to imitate 
 his grandfather, who was then alive in China, 
 and a very pious man : and it was observable, 
 that he never eat any thing, but he prostrated 
 himself upon the ground, and offered it first to 
 the Supreme Lord of heaven. One day, while he 
 was a child, he heard his grandfather fetch a deep 
 sigh ; and going up to him with much reverence, 
 " May I presume," said he, " without losing the 
 respect I owe you, to inquire into the occasion of 
 your grief? Perhaps you fear that your posterity 
 will degenerate from your virtue, and dishonour
 
 12 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 you by their vices." " What put this thought into 
 your head," said the old man to him ; "and where 
 have you learned to speak after this manner ? " 
 " From yourself," replied Confucius j " I attend 
 diligently to you every time you speak ; and I 
 have often heard you say, that a son, who does 
 not by his virtue support the glory of his ances- 
 tors, does not deserve to bear their name." 
 
 At twenty-three years of age, when he had 
 gained a considerable knowledge of antiquity, 
 and acquainted himself with the laws and customs 
 of his country, he projected a scheme for a general 
 reformation of manners. Wisely persuaded that 
 the people could not be happy, so long as ava- 
 rice, ambition, voluptuousness, and false policy, 
 reigned amongst them, he thought it incumbent 
 upon him to recommend a severe morality \ and, 
 accordingly, he began to enforce temperance, 
 justice, and other virtues j to inspire a contempt 
 of riches, parade, and splendour ; and to excite 
 such an elevation of mind, as would render men 
 incapable of dissimulation and insincerity. In 
 short, he used all the means he could think of, to 
 redeem his countrymen from a life of pleasure to a
 
 CONFUCIUS. 13 
 
 life of reason. He was every where known, and 
 as universally beloved : his extensive learning and 
 great wisdom, soon made him known; his integrity 
 and the splendour of his virtues, made him beloved. 
 Kings were governed by his counsels, and the 
 people reverenced him as a saint. The good 
 effects of his example and admonitions were, 
 however, but temporary. He lived in times 
 when rebellion, wars, and tumults, raged through- 
 out the empire. Men had little leisure, and 
 less inclination, to listen to his philosophy ; for, 
 as we have observed, they were ambitious, ava- 
 ricious, and voluptuous. Hence he often met 
 with ill-treatment and reproachful language; 
 and it is said that conspiracies were formed 
 against his life : to which may be added, that his 
 neglect of his own pecuniary interests had re- 
 duced him to extreme poverty. Some philoso- 
 phers among his contemporaries were so affected 
 with the sad state of things, that they retired 
 into the mountains and deserts, thinking that, 
 happiness could no where be found, but in seclu- 
 sion from society. In vain they endeavoured to 
 persuade Confucius to follow their example : " I 
 am a man/' said lie, " and cannot separate my-
 
 14 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 self from the society of men, and consort with 
 beasts. Bad as the times are, I shall do all I 
 can to recall men to virtue; for in virtue 
 are all things. If mankind would but embrace- 
 it, and submit themselves to its discipline and 
 laws, they would not want me or any body else, 
 to instruct them. It is the duty of a teacher 
 first to perfect himself, and then to perfect others. 
 Human nature came to us from Heaven pure 
 and without defect ; but in process of time, 
 ignorance, the passions, and evil examples, cor- 
 rupted it. Reformation consists in restoring it 
 to its primitive beauty : to be perfect, we must 
 re-ascend to the point from which we have fallen. 
 Let us obey Heaven. Let our reason, and not 
 our senses, be the rule of our conduct : for rea* 
 son will teach us to think wisely, to speak pru- 
 dently, and to behave ourselves worthily upon all 
 occasions." 
 
 Confucius did not cease to travel about, and do 
 all the good in his power. He gained many dis- 
 ciples, who became strongly attached both to his 
 person and his doctrine. These he sent into 
 different parts of the empire, to promote reforma-
 
 CONFUCIUS. la 
 
 lion of manners amongst the people. All his 
 instructions were enforced by his own example. 
 He was remarkable for his gravity and sobriety, 
 his rigorous abstinence, his contempt of riches, 
 and what are commonly called the goods of this 
 life ; for his continual attention and watchfulness 
 over his actions; and, above all, for his unaffected 
 modesty and humility. lie is said to have lived 
 three years in retirement ; and to have spent the 
 latter part of his life in sorrow. A few days be- 
 fore his last illness, he told his disciples, with tears 
 in his eyes, that he was overcome with grief at 
 the sight of the disorders which prevailed in the 
 empire: " The mountain," said he, "is fallen; 
 the high machine is demolished, and the sages 
 are all fled." His meaning was, that the edifice 
 of perfection, which he had endeavoured to raise, 
 was entirely overthrown. He began to languish 
 from that time ; and a few days before his death 
 expressed himself thus : " The kings reject my 
 maxims ; and since I am no longer useful on the 
 earth, I ought not to regret leaving it." After 
 these words he fell into a lethargy; an J, at the 
 end of seven days, expired in the arms of his dis- 
 ciples, in the seventy-third year of his age. Upon
 
 16 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 the first hearing of his death, the prince who then 
 reigned in the kingdom of Lou, could not refrain 
 from tears : " God is not satisfied with me," cried 
 he, " since he has taken away Confucius." 
 
 "Wise and good men are indeed precious gifts, 
 with which heaven blesses the earth ; and their 
 worth is seldom justly appreciated till after their 
 decease. Confucius was lamented by the whole 
 empire. He was honoured as a saint ; and so 
 high a veneration was entertained for his memory, 
 that it will scarcely ever be effaced in those parts 
 of the world.
 
 ( 17 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 SOCRATES. 
 
 Socrates, the greatest of the ancient heathen 
 philosophers, was born about 467 years before 
 the Christian era. His sentiments and conduct 
 were, in many respects, very excellent, and com- 
 mand our admiration. lie was blessed with ex- 
 traordinary talents, which were improved by all 
 the learning that the a^e in which he lived could 
 afford: and he appeared at Athens under the 
 respectable character of a good citizen, a true 
 philosopher, and a wise instructer. 
 
 Convinced that philosophy is valuable, not as 
 it furnishes curious questions for the schools, but 
 as it provides men with a law of life, Socrates cen- 
 sured his predecessors for spending all their time, 
 in abstruse researches into nature, and taking no 
 pains to render themselves useful to mankind. 
 His favourite maxim was, " Whatever is above 
 us, does not concern u>." His great object in 
 
 C
 
 18 SOCRATES. 
 
 all his conferences and discourses, was, to lead 
 men into an acquaintance with themselves ; to 
 convince them of their errors; to inspire them 
 with the love of virtue ; and to furnish them with 
 useful moral instructions. In these benevolent 
 labours, he was indefatigable. He communi- 
 cated his instructions, not only when he was in 
 the chair, and at set hours of discourse, but even 
 in his amusements ; when he was at his meals ; 
 in the camp or market ; and, finally, when he 
 was in prison : thus making every place a school 
 of virtue. 
 
 Through his whole life, this good man dis- 
 covered a mind superior to the attractions of 
 wealth and power. Contrary to the general 
 practice of the preceptors of his time, he in- 
 structed his pupils, without receiving from them 
 any gratuity. He frequently refused rich pre- 
 sents. The chief men of Athens were his 
 stewards : they sent him provisions, as they 
 apprehended he wanted them. He took what 
 his present necessities required, and returned the 
 rest. Observing, at a particular time, the nume- 
 rous articles of luxury which were exposed to
 
 SOCRATES. 19 
 
 sale at Athens, he exclaimed ; " How many 
 things are here which I do not want I" 
 
 His intrepid virtue, and the severity with 
 which he reproved vice, produced the hatred of 
 men whose principles and conduct were the re- 
 verse of his own. lie was maliciously accused 
 of corrupting the youth, and of despising reli- 
 gion ; and was, with singular injustice, con- 
 demned to die. Before the trial, his chief 
 accuser sent him a private message, assuring 
 him that if he would desist from censuring his 
 conduct, the accusation should be withdrawn. 
 But Socrates refused to comply with so degra- 
 ding a condition ; and, with his usual integrity, 
 replied ; " Whilst I live I will never disguise 
 the truth, nor speak otherwise than my duty 
 requires." 
 
 After the sentence was passed, he was sent to 
 prison, where he lay in fetters thirl y days. In 
 this long interval, with the prospect of death 
 continually before him, he did not cease to 
 enjoy that profound tranquillity of mind, which 
 his friends had always admired in him. lb. 1 
 
 C 2
 
 HO SOCRATESi 
 
 entertained them with the same cheerful temper, 
 which he had ever manifested: and Crito ob- 
 serves, that the evening before his death, he 
 slept as peacefully as at any other time. On 
 the day assigned for him to die, his friends re- 
 paired early to the prison. They found him, 
 with his chains off, sitting by his wife, who 
 held one of his children in her arms. As soon 
 as she perceived them, she made the prison 
 resound with her cries. Socrates, that the tran- 
 quillity of his last moments might not be dis- 
 turbed by unavailing lamentations, requested 
 that she might be conducted home. With the 
 most frantic expressions of grief she left the 
 prison. 
 
 An interesting conversation then passed be- 
 tween Socrates and his friends, which chiefly 
 turned upon the immortality of the soul. In the 
 course of this conversation, he expressed his dis- 
 approbation of the practice of suicide ; and 
 assured his friends that his chief support, in his 
 present situation, was an expectation, though 
 not unmixed with doubt, of a happy existence 
 after death. " It would be inexcusable in me,"
 
 SOCRATES. 21 
 
 said he, " to despise death, if I were not per- 
 suaded that it will conduct me into the pre- 
 sence of the gods, who are the most righteous 
 governors, and into the society of just and good 
 men : but I derive confidence from the hope, 
 that something of man remains after death ; and 
 that the condition of good men will then be 
 much better than that of the bad." 
 
 Towards the close of the day, he retired into 
 an adjoining apartment to bathe ; his friends, in 
 the mean time, expressing to one another their 
 grief at the prospect of losing so excellent a 
 father, and being left to pass the rest of their 
 days, in the solitary state of orphans. After a 
 short interval, during which he gave some neces- 
 sary instructions to his domestics, and took his 
 last leave of his children, the attendant ot the 
 prison informed him, that the time for drinking 
 the poison was come. The executioner, though 
 accustomed to such scenes, shed tears as lie pre- 
 sented the fatal cup. Socrates received it with- 
 out change of countenance, or the least degree 
 of perturbation. Then offering up a prayer, 
 that he might have a prosperous passage injo 
 
 C3
 
 22 SOCRATES. 
 
 the invisible world, with perfect composure he 
 swallowed the poisonous draught. His friends 
 around him burst into tears. Socrates alone 
 remained unmoved. He upbraided their pusil- 
 lanimity; and entreated them to exercise a 
 manly constancy, worthy of the friends of virtue. 
 " What are you doing?" said he to them; " I 
 wonder at you. Of what is become of your 
 virtue ? was it not for fear of their falling into 
 these weaknesses that I sent away the women ? 
 I have always heard that we ought to die peace- 
 ably, and blessing the gods. Be at ease, I beg 
 of you ; and show more firmness and resolution.'* 
 He continued walking till the chilling operation 
 of the hemlock obliged him to lie down upon 
 his bed. After remaining a short time in this 
 situation, he covered himself with his cloak, and 
 expired. Such was the fate of the virtuous 
 Socrates! "A story," says Cicero, "which I 
 never read without tears." 
 
 It was not till some time after the death of 
 this great man, that the people of Athens per- 
 ceived their injustice, and began to repent of 
 it. Their hatred being satisfied; their pre-
 
 SOCRATES. 23 
 
 judices removed , and time having given them 
 an opportunity for reflection ; the notorious 
 iniquity of the sentence appeared in all its 
 horrors. Nothing was heard, throughout the 
 city, but discourses in favour of Socrates. The 
 Academy, the Lyceum, private houses, public 
 walks, and market places, seemed still to re- 
 echo the sound of his loved voice. " Here," 
 said they, " he formed our youth ;, and taught 
 our children to love their country, and to honour 
 their parents. In this place, he gave us his 
 admirable lessons; and sometimes made us sea- 
 sonable reproaches, to engage us more warmly 
 in the pursuit of virtue. Alas! how have we 
 rewarded him for those important services !" 
 Athens was in universal mourning and con- 
 sternation. The schools were shut up, and 
 all exercises suspended. The accusers were 
 punished for the innocent blood they had 
 caused to be shed; and the regard and grati- 
 tude of the Athenians towards this excellent 
 man, rose to the highest degree of veneration. 
 
 C i
 
 24 SOCRATES. 
 
 Many other instances might have been given, 
 of heathens who, by their actions and discourses, 
 appear to have been under the influence of re- 
 ligion ; but, in paganism, we find light so mixed 
 with darkness, religion and truth so blended with 
 superstition and error, that the minds of Christ- 
 ians will be less edified by examples of this kind, 
 than by those which exhibit piety and virtue, 
 enlightened by the rays of the Gospel, and ani- 
 mated by the assurance it gives of a happy 
 immortality. We shall therefore confine our- 
 selves, in the succeeding pages of this work, to 
 instances of the power of religion on the minds 
 of persons, who have lived under the Christian 
 dispensation, 
 
 It is, however, to the serious and benevolent 
 mind, a source of thankfulness, to believe that 
 the Divine Goodness extends itself towards the 
 upright in heart of every age and every country. 
 All mankind are, indeed, the children of one 
 beneficent Parent, who will judge them by the 
 degree of light, and the law, which it has pleased 
 him to afford them. But whilst we indulge this
 
 SOCRATES. 25 
 
 charitable sentiment, it behooves us, who, as 
 Christians, are distinguished by pre-eminent 
 advantages, to improve them faithfully, to the 
 honour of the Great Giver, the good of mankind, 
 and the edification of our own souls.
 
 ( 26 ) 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR. 
 
 THIS excellent man lived in the Apostolic age ; 
 and was remarkable for his faith, his wisdom, 
 and an eminent portion of the Holy Spirit, which 
 it had pleased God to bestow upon him. De- 
 voted to the service of his Divine Master, and 
 anxious to promote the eternal happiness of 
 men, he laboured fervently to extend the belief, 
 and the blessings, of the Gospel. These endea- 
 vours were rendered successful, by the support 
 f his Lord ; who enabled him to confirm his 
 Divine mission, by the miracles which he per- 
 formed among the people. 
 
 But the pious exertions of this upright and 
 benevolent man, for the happiness of others,, 
 could not secure him from the malice and oppo- 
 sition of his enemies, who were influenced by a 
 far different spirit. When these adversaries of 
 true religion, found themselves unable to resist
 
 STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR. 27 
 
 " the wisdom and the spirit by which Stephen 
 spake," they suborned witnesses to declare false- 
 hoods, and to charge him with blasphemy, before 
 the council. On this occasion, his innocence, 
 and the sustaining power of his Lord and 
 Master, were eminently conspicuous : for whilst 
 " they who sat in council looked steadfastly on 
 him, they saw his face as it had been the face 
 of an angel," 
 
 In a speech of great simplicity and energy, 
 and which marked the undaunted firmness of 
 his mind, he defended the sacred cause which 
 he had espoused. He gave a concise, but com- 
 prehensive history of the dealings of God with 
 the Jewish nation ; and set forth their repeated 
 provocations, disobedience, and ingratitude, and 
 the unmerited goodness and mercy of their 
 Divine Lawgiver : and concluded with observing, 
 that they themselves had been the betrayers and 
 murderers of the Just One, the Lord and Saviour 
 of the world. This faithful remonstrance, instead 
 of affecting them with humiliation and sorrow, for 
 their heinous transgression, excited the bitterest 
 resentment against this firm and zealous Christian.
 
 28 STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR. 
 
 " They were cut to the heart, and gnashed on 
 him with their teeth." At this moment, Stephen 
 was animated by an extraordinary interposition 
 of Divine power. " Full of the Holy Spirit, he 
 looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the 
 glory of God, and Jesus standing an the right 
 hand of God." This miraculous vision he com- 
 municated to the council and people j which 
 so enraged these unhappy creatures, " that they 
 stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one 
 accord, and cast him out of the city, and stoned 
 him." Whilst they were employed in this 
 murderous deed, the faith of Stephen remained 
 unshaken. " He called upon God, and said, 
 ' Lord Jesus receive my spirit!'" Far from 
 feeling the least resentment towards these violent 
 and wicked men, " he kneeled down, and cried 
 with a loud voice, c Lord, lay not this sin to their 
 charge !' " What a glorious triumph was this 
 of religion, the pure and benign religion of 
 Christ, over the passions of human nature, and 
 the malevolence of evil spirits !
 
 ( 29 ) 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 THE APOSTLE PAUL. 
 
 This eminent apostle is supposed to have 
 been born about two years before our Saviour. 
 He was a native of Tarsus in Cilicia, and a 
 pharisee by profession. The strong powers of 
 mind which he possessed, were greatly improved 
 by education. His parents sent him early to 
 Jerusalem, where he studied the law, at the 
 feet of Gamaliel, a doctor of high reputation ; 
 under whose directions he made a great progress 
 in his studies ; and afterwards became very 
 zealous for a strict observance of the law of 
 Moses. But his zeal carried him to great ex- 
 cesses. He persecuted the church of Christ 
 in the most violent manner. He entered into 
 the houses of the Christians, and drew out by 
 force both men and women, loaded them with 
 chains, and sent them to prison. He searched 
 for them even in the Synagogues ; where he 
 caused them to be beaten with rods, and com-
 
 30 THE APOSTLE PAUL. 
 
 pelled them to blaspheme the name of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 In the midst of this mad and destructive career, 
 he was arrested by a miraculous appearance of 
 that gracious Being, whose religion he wished 
 to extirpate ; and who addressed him in these 
 alarming expressions : " I am Jesus of Nazareth, 
 whom thou persecutest." Struck to the ground, 
 and humbled under a deep sense of the enor- 
 mity of his conduct, he cried out, " Lord, what 
 wouldst thou have me to do ?" 
 
 From this period, he became sincerely and 
 earnestly devoted to the service of his Divine 
 Redeemer ; who, in his unsearchable wisdom 
 and mercy, made him an eminent instrument 
 in establishing his church among the Gentiles. 
 The same zealous and ardent temper, by which 
 he had been distinguished when attached to 
 Judaism, being now influenced and directed by 
 Divine grace, was entirely converted to the holy 
 purpose of propagating the Gospel of peace and 
 salvation.
 
 THE APOSTLE PAUL. 81 
 
 In this most benevolent work, he was indefa- 
 tigable. No labour or fatigue discouraged him : 
 no enemies or danger appalled him. Having 
 been assured of the mercy and forgiveness of 
 his Lord; and animated by the sense of his love, 
 and of the unmerited honour of being employed 
 in his service ; Paul devoted all his powers, and 
 made every sacrifice, to promote the blessed 
 cause in which he had engaged. He thought 
 that he could never sufficiently serve a Master, 
 who had been so gracious and bountiful to 
 him. 
 
 The enmity of his open and secret opposers, 
 the various distresses and afflictions he encoun- 
 tered, served only to increase the ardour of his 
 pious pursuits. The strong faith with which he 
 was endued, raised him above all temporal con- 
 siderations. " We are (said he) troubled on 
 every side, yet not distressed j we are perplexed, 
 but not in despair ; persecuted, but not for- 
 saken; cast down, but not destroyed." " I am 
 filled with comfort ; lam exceedingly joyful in 
 all our tribulation." Supported by Divine 
 grace and future prospects, he seems to have*
 
 $2 THE APOSTLE PAUL. 
 
 considered all the labours and sorrows of this 
 rife, but as a drop of the ocean, as a grain of 
 6and on the sea shore, compared with that ex- 
 alted state of happiness which awaited him, and 
 which would last for ever. " Our light affliction, 
 (says he,) which is but for a moment, worketh 
 for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight 
 of glory." 
 
 The life and writings of this distinguished 
 apostle, exhibit numerous instances of his humi- 
 lity, self denial, patience, resignation, and for- 
 titude , of his love to God, and love to man. 
 His epistles contain a clear display of the doc- 
 trines of Christianity, and an ample detail of its 
 precepts. They have been read, with comfort 
 and edification, by the truly pious, in every age 
 of the Christian church. 
 
 The nature and design of this work, will 
 not allow us to recite many of the interesting 
 occurrences in the life of this Apostle. We 
 have, however, in addition to those already men- 
 tioned, selected the following, as striking proof- 
 of the power of religion on his mind.,
 
 THE APOSTLE PAUL. S3 
 
 After having long acted as the Apostle of the 
 Gentiles, his mission called him to sro to Jeru- 
 salem, where he knew that he Was to encounter 
 the utmost violence of his enemies. Just before 
 he set sail, he called together the elders of his 
 favourite church at Ephesus; and, in a pathetic 
 speech, which does great honour to his character,- 
 gave them his last farewell. Deeply affected by 
 their knowledge of the certain dangers to which 
 he was exposing himself, the whole assembly 
 was filled with distress, and melted into tears. 
 The circumstances were such as might have 
 conveyed dejection, even' Into a resolute mind ; 
 and would have totally overwhelmed the feeble. 
 " They all wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck, 
 and kissed him ; sorrowing most of all for the 
 words which he spoke, that they should see his 
 face no more." What were then the sentiments, 
 what was the reply, of this faithful servant of 
 God ? His firm and undaunted mind expressed 
 itself in these words : " Behold, I go bound in 
 the spirit, to Jerusalem, not knowing the things 
 that shall befall me there ; save that the I Ioly 
 Spirit vvitnesscth in every city, saying, that bonds 
 
 1)
 
 54 THE APOSTLE PAUL. 
 
 and afflictions abide me. But none of these 
 things move me; neither count I my life dear 
 to myself, so that I might finish my course with 
 joy, and the ministry which I have received of 
 the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the 
 grace of God." Here we perceive the language, 
 and the spirit, of a truly great and religious man. 
 Such a man knows not what it is to shrink from 
 danger, when conscience points out his path. In 
 that path he will resolutely walk, let the con- 
 sequences be what they may. 
 
 This was the magnanimous behaviour of the 
 Apostle, when he had persecution and distress 
 full in view. Let us attend to his sentiments, 
 when the time of his last sufferings approached; 
 and observe the majesty, and the ease, with 
 which he looked on death. " I am now ready 
 to be offered, and the time of my depart- 
 ure is at hand. I have fought the good fight. 
 I have finished my course. I have kept the 
 faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a 
 crown of righteousness." How many years of 
 life does such a dying moment over-balance !
 
 THE APOSTLE PAUL. 35 
 
 Who would not choose, in this manner, to go 
 off the stage, with such a song of triumph in 
 his mouth, rather than prolong his existence 
 amidst cares and anxieties, and even amidst the 
 honours and enjoyments of the world ? 
 
 D3
 
 ( 36 ) 
 
 SECTION V11L 
 
 IGNATIUS. 
 
 Ignatius, one of the ancient fathers of the 
 church, was born in Syria, and brought up under 
 the care of the apostle John. About the year 
 67, he became bishop of Antioch. In this im- 
 portant station, he continued above forty years, 
 both an honour and a safeguard to the Christian 
 religion ; undaunted in the midst of very tem- 
 pestuous times, and unmoved with the prospect 
 of suffering a cruel death. He taught men to 
 think little of the present life ; to value and love 
 the goorl things to come; and never to be deterred 
 from a course of piety and virtue, by the fear 
 of any temporal evils whatever; to oppose only 
 meekness to anger, humility to boasting, and 
 prayers to curses and reproaches. 
 
 This excellent man was selected by the em- 
 peror Trajan, as a subject whose sufferings might 
 be proper to inspire terror and discouragement 
 in the hearts of the Christians at Home. lie was
 
 IGNATIUS. 37 
 
 condemned to die for his faith in Christ; and 
 ordered to be thrown amongst wild beasts, to be 
 devoured by them. This cruel sentence, far from 
 weakening his attachment to the great cause he 
 had espoused, excited thankfulness of heart, that 
 he had been counted worthy to suffer for the sake 
 of religion. " I thank thee, O Lord," said he* 
 " that thou hast condescended thus to honour 
 me with thy love ; and hast thought me worthy, 
 with thy apostle Paul, to be bound in chains." 
 
 On his passage to Rome, he wrote a letter to 
 his fellow Christians there, to prepare them to ac- 
 quiesce in his sufferings, and to assist him with 
 their prayers. " Pray for me," said he, "that 
 God will give me both inward and outward 
 strength, that I may not only say, but do well ; 
 that I may not only be called a Christian, but be 
 found one." Animated by the cheering prospect 
 of the reward of his sufferings, he said : " Xow, 
 indeed, I begin to be a disciple ; I weigh neither 
 visible nor invisible things, in comparison of an 
 interest in Jesus Christ." With the utmost Christ- 
 ian fortitude, he met the wild beasts assigned for 
 his destruction; and triumphed in dealli. 
 
 1)3
 
 ( 38 ) 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 POLYCARP. 
 
 POLYCARP, an eminent Christian father, was 
 born in the reign of Nero. Ignatius recom- 
 mended the church at Antioch to the care and 
 superintendence of this zealous father ; who ap- 
 pears to have been unwearied in his endeavours 
 to preserve the peace of the church, and to pro- 
 mote piety and virtue amongst men. 
 
 During the persecution which raged at Smyrna, 
 in the year 167, the distinguished character of 
 Potycarp attracted the attention of the enemies 
 of Christianity. The general outcry was, " Let 
 PoJycarp be sought for." When he was taken 
 before the proconsul, he was solicited to reproach 
 Christ, and save his life : but he nobly replied ; 
 '* Eighty and six years have I served Christ, who 
 has never deserted or injured me : how then can 
 I blaspheme my King and Saviour ?"
 
 POLYCARP. 39 
 
 When he was brought to the stake, the execu- 
 tioner offered, as usual, to nail him to it j but he 
 said : " Let me alone as I am : He who has given 
 me strength to come to the fire, will also enable 
 me to stand unmoved in the pile, without being 
 fastened with nails." 
 
 Part of his last prayer, at his death, was as 
 follows : " O Lord God Almighty, the father 
 of Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the 
 knowledge of thyself; O God of angels and prin- 
 cipalities, and of every creature, and especially 
 of all the just who live in thy presence ; I thank 
 thee, that thou hast graciously vouchsafed, this 
 day and this hour, to allot me the glorious privi- 
 lege of suffering for thee. I praise and adore 
 thee, through thy beloved Son ; to whom with 
 thee, and the Holy Spirit, be glory, both now 
 and for ever. Amen." 
 
 Di
 
 ( 40 } 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 THE VENERABLE BEDE. 
 
 BEDE, surnamed the Venerable, was born about 
 the year 673, in the neighbourhood of Wear- 
 mouth, in the bishopric of Durham. Losing 
 both his parents, at the age of seven years, he 
 was, by his relations, placed in the monastery of 
 Wearmouth. He was educated there, with 
 much strictness ; and it appears that, from his 
 youth, he was devoted to the service of religion. 
 He was ordained deacon, in the nineteenth, and 
 presbyter, in the thirtieth year of his age. 
 
 He applied himself entirely to the study of the 
 Holy Scriptures, the instruction of disciples, the 
 offices of public worship, and the composition of 
 religious and literary works. He wrote on all 
 the branches of knowledge then cultivated in 
 Europe. In Greek and Hebrew he attained a 
 skill, which was very uncommon in that barba- 
 rous asre : and by his instructions and example.
 
 THE VENERABLE BEDE. 41 
 
 he formed many scholars. He made all his at- 
 tainments subservient to devotion. Sensible that 
 it is by Divine grace, rather than by our natural 
 powers, or by learning, that the most profitable 
 knowledge of the Scriptures is to be acquired, he 
 united with his studies regular prayer to God, 
 that he would bless and sanctify them. 
 
 Perhaps no person of his time acquired so dis- 
 tinguished and widely-extended a reputation, as 
 Bede ; a reputation too, entirely founded on the 
 worth of his character, and the extent of his 
 learning. The Roman pontiff respected him so 
 highly, that he gave him a cordial invitation to 
 the metropolis of the church : but this he thought 
 proper to decline. In the eyes of Bede, the 
 great world had no charms. 
 
 Of his numerous and important writings, the 
 greatest and most popular was, his " English 
 Ecclesiastical History." All the knowledge, 
 which we have of the early age of Christianity in 
 this country, is derived from .this production. 
 King Alfred so highly esteemed the work, that 
 he translated it from the original Latin, into the
 
 42 THE VENERABLE BEDE. 
 
 Saxon language ; and, by this means, increased 
 its celebrity. The various merits of Bede acquire 
 additional lustre, from the general ignorance and 
 corruptions of the time in which he lived. Not- 
 withstanding this disadvantage, he appears to 
 have been a man of eminent virtue ; and to have 
 possessed the happy association of learning with 
 modesty, of devotion with liberality, and high 
 reputation in the church with humility and mo- 
 deration. 
 
 In the last sickness of this pious and learned 
 man, he was afflicted with a difficulty of breath- 
 ing, which continued about two weeks. His 
 mind was, however, serene and cheerful ; his 
 affections were heavenly; and amidst all his in- 
 firmities, he continued daily to instruct his dis- 
 ciples. At this period, a great part of the night 
 was spent in prayer and thanksgiving ; and the 
 first employment of the morning was, to rumi- 
 nate on the Scriptures, and make supplication 
 to God. 
 
 Amidst his bodily weakness, his mind was 
 still so active, that he employed himself in
 
 THE VENERABLE BEDE. 43 
 
 writing on religious subjects. His translation of 
 the Gospel of St. John, was not completed till 
 the day of his death. When, at last, he per- 
 ceived that his end was drawing near, he met 
 the solemn event, with great composure and 
 satisfaction. " If my Maker please, (said he,) 
 who formed me out of nothing, I am willing 
 to leave the world, and go to him. My soul 
 desires to see Christ, my king, in his beauty." 
 He then, with pious elevation of mind, sung, 
 " glory to the Father, to the Son, and to the 
 Holy Spirit;" and expired with such tranquillity 
 and devotion, as greatly affected all who saw 
 and heard him.
 
 ( ) 
 
 SECTION XI. 
 
 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 
 
 LOUIS IX. styled St. Louis, succeeded to the 
 crown of France, in the year 1226. This prince 
 possessed great wisdom, piety, and virtue. His 
 reputation for candour and justice was so great, 
 that the barons of England, as well as king 
 Henry III. consented to make him umpire of 
 the differences which subsisted between them. 
 Fenelon says of this prince, " He was distin- 
 guished by the nobleness of his sentiments : he 
 was without haughtiness, presumption, or seve- 
 rity. In every respect, he attended to the real 
 interests of his country, of which he was as trulv 
 the father as the king." 
 
 An abhorrence of sin was so deeply impressed 
 upon his mind, by a religious education, that he 
 not only preserved it through the course of his 
 life, but was zealous to inculcate it upon others. 
 He was very solicitous that his children should
 
 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 45 
 
 be trained up in the fear and admonition of the 
 Lord ; and used to devote a considerable part of 
 his time to their religious instruction. He often 
 related to them the punishments which the pride, 
 the avarice, and the debauchery of princes, 
 brought upon themselves and their people. 
 
 In his last sickness, he earnestly exhorted 
 Philip, his son and successor, firmly to adhere to 
 religion, in his own private life and conduct, and 
 zealously to promote it amongst his subjects. He 
 also strongly recommended to him justice, mo- 
 deration, and all the virtues becoming a sovereign 
 and a Christian. He strictly enjoined him never 
 to suffer any one, in his presence, to speak dis- 
 respectfully of the Almighty, or of those devoted 
 to his service ; or to utter a word, tending, in 
 the smallest degree, to countenance a crime. 
 " God," said he, " grant you grace, my son, to 
 do his will continually ; so that he may be glori- 
 fied by your means, and that we may be with 
 him after this life, and praise him eternally." 
 
 I lis dying advice to his daughter Isabella, 
 queen of Navarre, was also very expressive of his
 
 46 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 
 
 zeal for the cause of religion, and his solicitude 
 for the welfare of his children. He wrote to her 
 as follows : " My dear daughter, I conjure you 
 to love our Lord with all your might ; for this is 
 the foundation of all goodness. No one is so 
 worthy to be Joved. "Well may we say, Lord, 
 thou art our God, and our goods are nothing to 
 thee.' It was the Lord who sent his Son upon 
 earth, and delivered him over to death for our 
 salvation. If you love him, my daughter, the 
 advantage will be yours ; and be assured that 
 you can never love and serve him too much. 
 He has well deserved that we should love him ; 
 for he first loved us. I wish you could com- 
 prehend what the Son of God has done for our 
 redemption. My daughter, be very desirous to 
 know how you may best please the Lord; and 
 bestow all your care to avoid every thing that 
 may displease him. But particularly, never be 
 guilty of any deliberate sin, though it were to 
 save your life. Take pleasure in hearing God 
 reverently spoken of, both in sermons and in 
 private conversation. Shun too familiar dis- 
 course, except with very virtuous persons. 
 Obey, my daughter, your husband, your father,
 
 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 47 
 
 and your mother, in the Lord : you are bound 
 to do so, both for their sakes, and for the sake 
 of him who has commanded it. In what is 
 contrary to the glory of God, you owe obe- 
 dience to none. Endeavour, my daughter, to be 
 an example of goodness to all who may see you, 
 and to all who may hear of you. Be not too 
 nice about dress : if you have too many clothes, 
 give them away in charity. Beware also of 
 having an excessive care of your furniture. 
 Aspire after a disposition to do the will of God, 
 purely for his sake, independently of the hope 
 of reward, or the fear of punishment." 
 
 Thus did this prince teach his children j and 
 thus did he live himself. He died in great tran- 
 quillity, in the year 1270.
 
 ( 48 ) 
 
 SECTION XII. 
 
 POPE EUGENIUS. 
 
 Gabriel Condelmerius was raised to the 
 papal throne in the year 1431 ; and took the 
 name of Eugenius IV. From a low condition 
 of life, and through various gradations of office, 
 he ascended to this dignity. Being much averse 
 to a reformation of doctrine and manners, he 
 met with great opposition from some of the 
 clergy; but being of a determined spirit, he en- 
 countered every danger, rather than yield to his 
 opponents. He was often reduced to painful 
 and mortifying situations ; and experienced so 
 many vicissitudes of life, that he had ample 
 proof of the vanity and instability of human 
 greatness. 
 
 o 
 
 The reflection he is said to have made on his 
 death-bed, is remarkable ; and shows that, in 
 his greatest elevation, he did not find that peace 
 and true enjoyment of mind, which he had pos-
 
 POPE EUGENIUS. 49 
 
 sessed in a humble and retired situation. Being 
 attended by a company of monks, he turned 
 his face towards them, and said, with a voice, 
 interrupted by sighs : " Oh Gabriel ! how much 
 better would it have been for thee, and how 
 much more would it have promoted thy soul's 
 welfare, if thou hadst never been Eaised to the 
 pontificate j but been content to- lead a quiet 
 and religious life in thy monastery !"' 
 
 E
 
 ( 50 ) 
 
 SECTION XIII. 
 
 CARDINAL BEAUFORT. 
 
 Cardinal Beaufort was of royal extraction* 
 the son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster; 
 and was commonly called, the rich cardinal of 
 Winchester. It is generally believed that he 
 concerted the death of Humphrey, duke of 
 Gloucester, which was attributed to poison. 
 History informs us, that he prevailed with the 
 king, to grant him letters of pardon, for all 
 offences contrary to the statutes then enacted 
 in England. 
 
 The wise son of Sirach exclaims, " O death, 
 how bitter is, the remembrance of thee, to a 
 man who is at ease in his possessions ! " Of the 
 truth of this sentiment, we have a remarkable 
 proof, in the last moments of this ambitious 
 cardinal. When he was arrested in the midst 
 of his career, and the terrors of death were 
 marshalled in horrid array before him, he thus
 
 CARDINAL BEAUFOUT. 51 
 
 complained, and vented his afflicted soul to his 
 weeping friends around him : " And must I 
 then die ? Will not all my riches save me ? I 
 could purchase the kingdom, if that would pro- 
 long my life. Alas! there is no bribing death. 
 When my nephew, the duke of Bedford, died, 
 I thought my happiness, and my authority, 
 greatly increased : but the duke of Gloucester's 
 death raised me in fancy to a level with kings ; 
 and I thought of nothing but accumulating still 
 greater wealth, to enable me, at length, to 
 purchase the triple crown. Alas ! how are my 
 hopes disappointed ! Wherefore, oh my friends ! 
 Jet me earnestly beseech you to pray for me, 
 and [recommend my departing soul to God." 
 Thus died this unhappy cardinal in the year 
 1447. 
 
 E2
 
 ( 52 ) 
 
 SECTION XIV. 
 
 CAESAR BORGIA. 
 
 Cesar Borgia, a natural son of pope Alex- 
 ander VI. was a man of such conduct and cha- 
 racter, that Machiavel has thought fit to pro- 
 pose him, in his famous book called, " The 
 Prince," as an original and pattern to all 
 princes, who would act the part of wise and 
 politic tyrants. He was made a cardinal : but 
 as this office imposed some restraints upon him, 
 he soon determined to resign it, that he might 
 have the greater scope for practising the ex- 
 cesses, to which his natural ambition and 
 cruelty prompted him ; for cruel, as well as 
 ambitious, he was in the highest degree. After 
 this he was made duke of Valentinois by Louis 
 XII. of France, He experienced a variety of 
 fortune; but displayed, on every occasion, the 
 most consummate dexterity and finesse, and 
 seemed prepared for all events. The reflections 
 he made a short time before his death, (which
 
 CESAR BORGIA. 63 
 
 happened in the year 150?,) show, however, 
 that his policy was confined to the concerns of 
 this life ; and that he had not acted upon that 
 wise and enlarged view of things, which becomes 
 a being destined for immortality. " I had pro- 
 vided," said he, " in the course of my life, for 
 every thing except death j and now, alas ! I am 
 to die, although entirely unprepared," 
 
 E 3
 
 ( 55 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 H'VRDINAL WOLSEY SIR JOHN MASON EMPEROR CHARLES V. 
 
 SIR THOMAS SMITH BERNARD GILPIN JANE, QUEEN 
 
 OF NAVARRE SIR FRANCIS WALS1NGHAM LADY JANE GREY 
 
 SI1! WALTER RALEIGH RICHARD HOOKER. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 JL MOM AS WOLSEY, a distinguished person in 
 the reign of Henry VIII. was horn in the year 
 J 4?1 ; and it is said lie was the son of a butcher 
 at Ipswich. Being made chaplain to the king, 
 he bad great opportunities of gaining his favour; 
 to obtain which he practised all the arts of 
 obsequiousness. Having gradually acquired an 
 entire ascendency over the mind of Henry, lie 
 successively obtained several bishoprics ; and, 
 at length; was mad:.- archbishop of York, lord 
 high chancellor of England, and prime minister; 
 
 E 4
 
 56 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 and was, for several years, the arbiter of Europe. 
 The emperor Charles the fifth, and the French 
 king, Francis the first, courted his interest, and 
 loaded him with favours. As his revenue was 
 immense, and his influence unbounded, his pride 
 and ostentation were carried to the greatest 
 height. He had eight hundred servants ; 
 amongst whom were nine or ten lords, fifteen 
 knights, and forty esquires. 
 
 From this great height of power and splen- 
 dour, he was suddenly precipitated into ruin. 
 His ambition to be pope, his pride, his exac- 
 tions, and his opposition to Henry's divorce, 
 occasioned his disgrace. This sad reverse so 
 affected his mind, as to bring on a severe ill- 
 ness, which soon put a period to his days. A 
 short time before he left the world, the review 
 of his life, and a consciousness of the misappli- 
 cation of his time and talents, drew from him 
 this sorrowful declaration : " Had I but served 
 God as diligently as I have served the king, he 
 would not have given me over in my gray hairs. 
 But this is the just reward that I must receive 
 for my indulgent pains and study, not regard-
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 5? 
 
 ing my service to God, but only to my 
 
 prince." 
 
 With these painful reflections this famous 
 cardinal finished his course. He affords a 
 memorable instance of the variety and incon- 
 stancy of human things, both in his rise and 
 fall ; and a striking admonition to those who 
 are abusing the talents and opportunities, which 
 God has given them to promote his honour, and 
 the happiness of men.
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 SIR JOHN MASON. 
 
 A STRONG testimony to the importance of re* 
 ligion, is given by sir John Mason, who, though 
 but 63 years old at his death, had flourished in 
 the reigns of four sovereigns, (Henry VIIL 
 Edward VI. Mary, and Elizabeth,) had been 
 privy-counsellor to them all, and an attentive 
 observer of the various revolutions and vicissi- 
 tudes of those times. Towards his latter end, 
 being on his death-bed, he spoke thus to those 
 about him: " I have lived to see five sovereigns, 
 and have been privy-counsellor to four of them : 
 I have seen the most remarkable things in 
 foreign parts, and have been present at most 
 state transactions for the last thirty years : and 
 I have learned, from the experience of so many 
 years, that seriousness is the greatest wisdom, 
 temperance the best physic, and a good con- 
 science the best estate. And were I to live again, 
 I would change the court for a cloister, my privy-
 
 SIR JOHN MASON. 59 
 
 counsellor's bustle for a hermit's retirement, and 
 the whole life I have lived in the palace, for an 
 hour's enjoyment of God in the chapel. All 
 things now forsake me, except my God, my 
 duty, and my prayers." 
 
 The chief field, both of the duty and of the 
 improvement of man, lies in active life. By the 
 graces and virtues which he exercises amidst his 
 fellow-creatures, he is trained up for heaven. 
 And since Divine Providence has established 
 government and subordination amongst men, it 
 follows, that high offices and stations of dignity, 
 are compatible with true religion. It is, how- 
 ever, possible, that the minds of persons in 
 authority, may be so much engaged with tem- 
 poral concerns, as to leave little or no place for 
 the higher duties of piety and devotion ; duties 
 which purify and exalt our nature, and give a 
 proper direction and limitation to all our labours 
 for the good of others. 
 
 From the regret expressed by sir John Mason, 
 it appears that his error consisted, not in
 
 60 SIR JOHN MASON. 
 
 having served his king and country, in the 
 eminent stations in which he had been placed ; 
 but in having suffered his mind to be so much 
 occupied with business, as to make him neglect, 
 in some degree, the proper seasons of religious 
 retirement, and the prime duties which he owed 
 to his Creator.
 
 ( 61 ) 
 
 section in. 
 CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 
 
 Charles V. emperor of Germany, king of 
 Spain, and lord of the Netherlands, was born at 
 Ghent, in the year 1500. 
 
 He is said to have fought sixty battles, in 
 most of which he was victorious ; to have ob- 
 tained six triumphs, conquered four kingdoms, 
 and to have added eight principalities to his 
 dominions: an almost unparalleled instance of 
 worldly prosperity, and the greatness of human 
 glory. 
 
 But all these fruits of his ambition, and all 
 the honours that attended him, could not yield 
 true and solid satisfaction. Reflecting on the 
 evils and miseries which he had occasioned, and 
 convinced of the emptiness of earthly magnifi- 
 cence, he became disgusted with all the splen- 
 dour that surrounded him ; and thought it his
 
 62 CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 
 
 duty to withdraw from it, and spend the rest of 
 his days in religious retirement. Accordingly, 
 he voluntarily resigned all his dominions to his 
 brother and son ; and after taking an affec- 
 tionate and last farewell of the latter, and of a 
 numerous retinue of princes and nobility that 
 respectfully attended him, he repaired to hi* 
 chosen retreat. It was situated in Spain, in a 
 vale of no great extent, watered by a small 
 brook, and surrounded with rising grounds 
 covered with lofty trees. 
 
 A deep sense of his frail condition and great 
 imperfections, appears to have impressed his 
 mind, in this extraordinary resolution, and 
 through the remainder of his life. As soon as 
 he landed in Spain, he fell prostrate on the 
 ground, and considering himself now as dead to 
 the world, he kissed the earth, and said : " Naked 
 came I out of my mother's womb, and naked 
 I now return to thee, thou common mother of 
 mankind !" 
 
 In this humble retreat, he spent his time in 
 religious exercises, and innocent employments j
 
 CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 63 
 
 and buried here, in solitude and silence, his gran- 
 deur, his ambition, together with all those vast 
 projects, which, for near half a century, had 
 alarmed and agitated Europe, and filled every 
 kingdom in 'it, by turns, with the terror of his 
 arms, and the dread of being subjected to his 
 power. Far from taking any part in the poli- 
 tical transactions of the world, he restrained 
 his curiosity even from any inquiry concerning 
 them ; and seemed to view the busy scene he 
 had abandoned, with an elevation and indiffe- 
 rence of mind, which arose from his thorough 
 experience of its vanity, as well as from the 
 pleasing reflection of having disengaged himself 
 from its cares and temptations. 
 
 Here he enjoyed more solid happiness, than 
 all his grandeur had ever yielded him : as a 
 full proof of which he has left this short, but 
 comprehensive testimony : fC I have tasted more 
 satisfaction in my solitude, in one day, than in all 
 the triumphs of my former reign. The sincere 
 study, profession, and practice, of the Christian 
 religion, have in them such joys and sweetness as 
 are seldom found in courts and grandeur."
 
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 SECTION IV. 
 
 SIR THOMAS SMITH. 
 
 Sir Thomas Smith was born in the year 
 1514, and received a liberal and polished educa- 
 tion. In 1542, he was made king's professor 
 of civil law, in the university of Cambridge, 
 and chancellor of the diocese of Ely. He was 
 several times employed by queen Elizabeth, as 
 her ambassador to the court of France ; and 
 executed the high office of secretary of state 
 to that princess. His abilities were excellent, 
 and his attainments uncommonly great. He 
 was a philosopher, a physician, a cliymist, a 
 mathematician, a linguist, an historian, and an 
 architect. 
 
 This distinguished person, a short time before 
 his decease, was much affected with the pros- 
 pect of his dissolution, and of a future state. 
 He sent to his friends, the bishops of Winches- 
 ter and Worcester, and entreated them to state
 
 SIR THOMAS SMITH. 65 
 
 to him, from the Koly Scriptures, the plainest 
 and surest way of making his peace with God : 
 adding, "It is lamentable, that men consider 
 not for what end they are born into the world, 
 till they are ready to go out of it/' 
 
 It is truly a sorrowful reflection, that the pur- 
 suits of this life, and the love of the world, are 
 often so much indulged, as to captivate the 
 mind, and charm it into a state of insensibility 
 to the great end of its existence. I low much 
 wiser and happier should we be, if we engaged 
 in temporal concerns with moderation and re- 
 straint, the true way to extract all their good ; 
 and considered ourselves as strangers and pil- 
 grims travelling towards a better country : in- 
 stead of being occupied, under continual anxiety 
 and frequent disappointments^ in the delusive 
 chase of interest and pleasure, till the scene is 
 nearly closed, and the mind left to the anguish 
 of a melancholy retrospect I 
 
 The flood of time is fast approaching : it 
 will soon pass over us ; and bury, in silence and 
 oblivion, all our busy, fascinating schemes and 
 
 F
 
 66 SIR THOMAS SMITH. 
 
 engagements ; and leave nothing to survive the 
 wreck, but virtue and goodness, and the consci- 
 ousness of Divine Favour. What urgent mo- 
 tives for correcting our terrestrial aims and 
 labours ; and for striving to become heirs of that 
 kingdom, whose honours and enjoyments are 
 perfect, and will last for ever \
 
 ( 07 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 Bernard Gilpin, a man of exalted virtue, 
 and distinguished among his contemporaries by 
 the title of The Apostle of the North, was de- 
 scended from a respectable family in Westmore- 
 land, and born in the year 1517. 
 
 As he early discovered much seriousness of 
 disposition, and an inclination to a contempla- 
 tive life, his parents determined to educate him 
 to the church ; and accordingly placed him in 
 a grammar school, where he passed through the 
 different classes with great approbation. When 
 he was sixteen years of age, he was sent to the 
 university of Oxford, and entered a scholar on 
 the foundation of Queen's college. In this 
 situation, he soon became distinguished for the 
 diligence with which he applied to his acade- 
 mical studies; and for his proficiency in that 
 knowledge, which the defective systems of 
 
 r i
 
 68 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 education then existing afforded. Of his great 
 progress in the study of divinity, and of the 
 Greek and Hebrew languages, his exercises 
 and disputations in the public schools gave very 
 satisfactory evidence, and recommended him to 
 much notice in the university; where he was, at 
 the same time, admired and loved for the sweet- 
 ness of his disposition, and the simplicity and 
 gentleness of his manners. 
 
 His attachment to the Roman Catholic reli- 
 gion, in which he had been educated, was, for 
 some time, strong and decided. But an honest 
 and ardent desire to discover truth ; an unpre- 
 judiced study of the Holy Scriptures ; and fre- 
 quent conferences with pious and learned men ; 
 produced, at length, a thorough persuasion of 
 the truth of the protestant reformed religion. 
 'Hi is cause he steadily and zealously supported, 
 through the whole remaining course of his life. 
 
 The chief place of Gilpin's active and virtuous 
 exertions, was in the county of Durham. After 
 having resigned several benefices, which the 
 opposition of his enemies, and other circum-
 
 BERNARD GILPIN. 60 
 
 stances, would not permit him to occupy with 
 satisfaction^ he accepted the rectory of Hough- 
 ton-le-spring. This living was of considerable 
 value; but the duty of it was proportionally 
 laborious. It was so extensive, that it con- 
 tained not fewer than fourteen villages. It had 
 been much neglected ; and in it there scarcely 
 remained any traces of true Christianity. Gilpin 
 was grieved to see the ignorance and vice, which 
 so greatly prevailed in the places under his care. 
 But he did not despair of bringing into order 
 a waste so miserably uncultivated : and, by 
 resolution, diligence, prudence, and perseve- 
 rance, he finally succeeded in producing an asto- 
 nishing change, not only in the character and 
 manners of his own parishioners, but of the 
 savage inhabitants in other northern districts. 
 On his arrival among them, the people crowded 
 about him, and listened to his discourses with 
 great attention, perceiving him to be a teacher 
 of a very different kind from those, to whom 
 they had hitherto been accustomed; and by 
 his truly pastoral and affectionate treatment of 
 them, he quickly gained their confidence, re- 
 spect, and attachment. 
 
 F:1
 
 70 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 Gilpin had not been long settled at Houghton, 
 before bishop Tonstal was desirous of still 
 farther improving his fortune, by presenting him 
 to a vacant prebend in the cathedral of Durham. 
 But, resolving not to accept it, he told the 
 bishop, " that, by his bounty, he had already 
 more wealth than, he was afraid, he could give 
 a good account of. He begged, therefore, that 
 he might not have an additional charge ; but 
 rather that his lordship would bestow this pre- 
 ferment on one by whom it was more wanted." 
 In these perilous times, (the reign of the san- 
 guinary queen Mary,) his steady, though mild 
 and temperate, adherence to the reformed reli- 
 gion, involved him in many dangers and difficul- 
 ties ; from which he was often happily extri- 
 cated, under Divine Providence, by the favour 
 of bishop Tonstal, and by his own judicious con- 
 duct. The malice of his enemies was probably 
 increased by his unaffected piety, and exem- 
 plary life; which formed a striking satire on 
 their negligence and irregularities. They de- 
 termined therefore to remove, if possible, so dis- 
 agreeable a contrast, and so able a reformer. 
 After many unsuccessful attempts to disgrace
 
 Bernard gilpin. 71 
 
 and destroy him, their hatred so far prevailed, 
 that they procured an order from the merciless 
 Bonner, bishop of London, to have him arrested 
 and brought to that city; where, the bishop 
 declared, he should be at the stake in a fortnight. 
 Gilpin was speedily apprized by his friends of 
 the measures determined against him ; and 
 earnestly entreated to provide for his safety, 
 by withdrawing from the kingdom. But their 
 persuasions were ineffectual ; for having been 
 long preparing himself to suffer for the truth, he 
 now determined not to decline it. He there- 
 fore, with great composure, waited for the arrival 
 of the bishop's messengers, after having ordered 
 his servant to provide a long garment for him, in 
 which he might go decently to the stake. In a 
 few days he was apprehended : but before he 
 reached London, an account of queen Mary's 
 death was received ; by which event he was de- 
 livered from any farther prosecution. Thus 
 providentially rescued from his enemies, he re- 
 turned to Houghton through crowds of people, 
 who expressed the utmost joy, and rendered 
 thanks to God for his deliverance.
 
 72 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 On the accession of Elizabeth, he was offered 
 the bishopric of Carlisle : but this he modestly 
 and firmly declined to accept. Not long after- 
 wards, the provostship of Queen's college, Oxford, 
 was tendered to him. This honour and emolu- 
 ment he likewise declined. He believed that he 
 could be more useful, in his present charge at 
 Houghton, than elsewhere : and this was a con- 
 sideration superior to every other, in the mind 
 of the pious and benevolent Gilpin. 
 
 Eminent as his labours and generosity were, 
 he was still unsatisfied with the services he had 
 rendered to his fellow creatures : and therefore, 
 to the surprise of his friends, he undertook to 
 build and endow a grammar school ; a design 
 which his great management and frugality 
 enabled him to accomplish. The school began 
 to flourish as soon as it was opened ; and there 
 was so great a resort of young people to it, that 
 in a little time the town was not able to accom- 
 modate them. Gilpin therefore fitted up a part 
 of his own house for that purpose ; where he 
 boarded twenty or thirty children ; and bestowed
 
 BERNARD GILPIN. 73 
 
 clothing and maintenance on the greater part 
 of them, whose parents were in poor circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Gilpin's hospitable manner of living was the 
 admiration of the whole country. Strangers 
 and travellers found a cheerful reception at 
 his board. He was also pleased with the com*- 
 pany of men of worth and letters, who used 
 much to frequent his house. When lord Bur- 
 leigh, then lord-treasurer, was sent by queen 
 Elizabeth to transact some affairs in Scotland, 
 he could not resist the desire which he felt, on 
 his return, to see a man whose name he found 
 every where mentioned with the highest respect. 
 He had not time to give any notice of his in- 
 tended visit : but the economy of so plentiful a 
 house was not easily disconcerted. Gilpin re- 
 ceived his noble guest with so much true polite- 
 ness ; and treated him and his whole retinue in 
 so affluent and generous a manner, that the 
 treasurer often afterwards said, " he could ha nil v 
 have expected more at Lambeth." While lord 
 Burleigh staid at Houghton, he took great pains 
 to acquaint himself with the order and regula-
 
 ^4 BERNARD GILPIN". 
 
 rity, with which every thing in that house was 
 managed ; and he was not a little pleased with 
 the result of his inquiries. There too he saw true 
 simplicity of manners ; and every social virtue 
 regulated by exact prudence. The statesman 
 began to unbend ; and he could scarcely avoid 
 comparing, with a kind of envious eye, the un- 
 quiet scenes of vice and vanity in which he was 
 engaged, with the calmness of this interesting 
 retreat. At length, with reluctance, he took 
 his leave, embracing the worthy rector with all 
 the warmth of affection, and the strongest assu- 
 rances of his readiness to render him any services 
 at court, or elsewhere. When he had mounted 
 a hill about a mile from Houghton, and which 
 commands the vale, he turned his horse to take 
 one more view of the place ; and having kept his 
 eye fixed upon it for some time, he broke out into 
 these exclamations : " There is the enjoyment 
 of life indeed! Who can blame that man for not 
 accepting a bishopric ? What does he want to 
 make him greater, or happier, or more useful to 
 mankind ? " 
 
 After the lapse of many years spent in the
 
 BERNARD GILPIN. 75 
 
 cheerful, but laborious discharge of duty, this 
 pious man perceived, from his many infirmities, 
 that his end was drawing near. He told his 
 friends his apprehensions ; and spoke of his 
 death with that happy composure which usually 
 attends the conclusion of a good life. He was 
 soon after confined to his chamber. His under- 
 standing continued perfect to the last. Of the 
 manner of his taking leave of the world, we have 
 the following account. 
 
 A few days before his death, having ordered 
 himself to be raised in his bed, he sent for the 
 poor ; and beckoning them to his bed-side, he 
 told them, he perceived that he was going out of 
 the world. He trusted they would be his wit- 
 nesses at the great day, that he had endeavoured 
 to do his duty among them ; and he prayed 
 God to remember them after he was crone. He 
 would not have them weep for him. Jf ever he 
 had told them any thing good, he would havo- 
 them remember that in his stead. Above all 
 things, he exhorted them to fear God, and keep 
 his commandments; telling them, if they would 
 do this, they could never be left comfortless.
 
 % BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 He next ordered his scholars to be called in* 
 To these likewise he made a short speech, re- 
 minding them, that this was their time, if they 
 had any desire to qualify themselves for being 
 of use in the world : that learning was well 
 worth their attention, but that virtue was of 
 much greater importance to them. 
 
 He next exhorted his servants : and then sent 
 for several persons, who had not profited by his 
 advice, according to his wishes ; and upon 
 whom he imagined his dying words might have 
 a better effect. His speech began to falter 
 before he had finished his exhortations. The 
 remaining hours of his life, he spent in prayer, 
 and in broken conversations with some select 
 friends. He often mentioned the consolations of 
 Christianity; declared that they were the only 
 true ones; and that nothing else could bring a 
 man peace at the last. He died in 1.383, and 
 in the sixty sixth year of his age. 
 
 In the preceding sketch of the life of this 
 eminent Christian, and in the account of his 
 death, we perceive the animating power of
 
 BERNARD GILPIN. 77 
 
 religion on his mind. The following faithful 
 summary of his character, marks very con- 
 spicuously the happy influence of the same 
 Divine principle; and exhibits to every reader 
 a most instructive lesson. 
 
 The natural disposition of this worthy man, was 
 of a serious cast : yet among his particular friends 
 he was uncommonly cheerful, sometimes faceti- 
 ous. His general behaviour was very affable. His 
 severity had no object but himself : to others, 
 he was gentle, candid, and indulgent. Never 
 did virtue sit with greater ease on any one ; had 
 less moroseness ; or could mix more agreeably 
 with whatever was innocent in common life. 
 
 He had a most extraordinary skill in the art 
 of managing a fortune. He considered himself 
 barely as a steward for other people ; and took 
 care, therefore, that his own desires never ex- 
 ceeded what calm reason could justify. Extra- 
 vagance was, with him, another word for injus- 
 tice. Amidst all his business, he found leisure 
 to look into his affairs; well knowing that fiu- 
 gality is the support of charity.
 
 78 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 He was the most candid interpreter of the 
 words and actions of others: where he plainly 
 saw failings, he would make every possible allow- 
 ance for them. He used to express a particular 
 indignation at slander ; often saying, "Slander, 
 more than theft, deserves the gallows." He was 
 remarkably guarded when he spoke of others: he 
 considered common fame as a false medium, and a 
 man's reputation as his most valuable property. 
 
 His sincerity was such as became his other 
 virtues. He had the strictest regard to truth, of 
 which his whole life was one consistent example. 
 All little arts and sinister practices, those ingre- 
 dients of worldly prudence, he disdained. His 
 perseverance in so commendable a practice, in 
 whatever difficulties it might at first involve him, 
 raised his character, in the issue, above malice 
 and envy; and gave him that weight and in- 
 fluence in every thing he undertook, which 
 nothing but an approved sincerity can give. 
 
 Whatever his other virtues were, their lustre 
 was greatly increased by his humility. To con- 
 quer religious pride is one of the best effects of
 
 BERNAfcD GILPIN. 7 
 
 religion; an effect Which his religion in thfc 
 most striking manner produced. 
 
 With regard to his clerical office, no man 
 could be more strongly influenced by a desire of 
 discharging his duties. As soon as he undertook 
 the care of a parish, it engrossed his attention. 
 The pleasures of life he totally relinquished, and 
 even restrained his favourite pursuits of litera- 
 ture. This was the more commendable in him, 
 as he always had a strong inclination for retire- 
 ment ; and was often violently tempted to shut 
 himself up in some university at home or abroad, 
 and live there sequestered from the world. But 
 his conscience corrected his inclination ; as he 
 thought the life of a mere recluse, by no means 
 agreeable to the active principles of Christianity, 
 The very repose to which his age laid claim, he 
 would not indulge : but, as long as he had 
 strength sufficient, he persevered in the laborious 
 discharge of the various duties of his station, and 
 in the exercise of a most extensive charity. 
 
 In respect to his benevolence, it may justly be 
 said, that no man had more disinterested views.
 
 80 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 or made the common good more the study of. 
 his life; which was indeed, the best comment 
 on the great Christian principle of universal 
 charity. He called nothing his own ; there was 
 nothing he could not readily part with for the 
 service of others. In his charitable distributions, 
 he had no measure but the bounds of his inr 
 come, a small portion of which was always laid 
 out on himself. Nor did he give as if he were 
 granting a favour, but as if he were paying a 
 debt : all obsequious service or acknowledgment 
 the generosity of his heart disdained. 
 
 No part of his character was more con~ 
 spicuous than his piety. He thought religion 
 was his principal concern; and, of course, made 
 the attainment of just notions respecting it, his 
 chief study. To what was matter of mere 
 speculation, he paid little or no regard : such 
 opinions only as influenced practice, he thought 
 concerned him. He knew no other end of 
 religion than a holy life: and, therefore in all 
 his inquiries about it, he considered himself 
 as looking after truths, which were to influence 
 his conduct, and make him a better man. All
 
 BERNARD GILPltf. 81 
 
 his moral virtues became Christian ones; they 
 were formed upon such motives, and they re- 
 spected such ends, as Christianity approves and 
 directs. It was his daily care to conform him- 
 self to the will of God ; upon whose providence 
 he absolutely depended, in all conditions of life. 
 He was resigned, easy, and cheerful, under 
 whatever commonly reputed misfortunes he 
 met with. Believing in a particular providence, 
 he was grateful to Heaven for every benefit; 
 and studied to improve religiously every af- 
 flictive event. 
 
 Such were the life and character of this distin- 
 guished person. A conduct so agreeable to the 
 strictest rules of religion and morality, gained 
 him, among his contemporaries, as was before, 
 observed, the title of the * Northern Apostle.* 
 The parallel was indeed striking. His quitting 
 the ancient doctrines, in the utmost reverence 
 of which he had been educated ; tho persecu- 
 tions he met with for the sake of his integrity; 
 the danger he often ran of martyrdom; his con- 
 tempt < the world ; his unwearied application 
 to the business of his calling; and the boldness 
 
 (r
 
 .82 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 and freedom with which he reproved the guilty, 
 whatever their fortunes or stations were; might 
 justly characterize him a truly apostolic per- 
 son* 
 
 Viewed with such a life, how mean and con- 
 temptible do the idle amusements of the world 
 appear! how trifling that uninterrupted succes- 
 sion of serious folly, which engages a great part 
 of mankind, who crowd into a small compass 
 every important concern of life ! How much 
 more nobly does that person act, who, unmoved 
 by all that the world calls great and happy, 
 can separate appearances from realities, and 
 attend only to what is just and right; who, not 
 content with the closet attainment of speculative 
 virtue, maintains each worthy resolution that 
 he forms; and perseveres steadily, like this 
 excellent man, in the conscientious discharge 
 of the duties of that station, whatever it be, in 
 which Providence has placed him ! * 
 
 * These memoirs are principally taken from a work entitled, 
 "The Life of Bernard Gilpin: by William Gilpin, M. A. ,s 
 It is a valuable and interesting piece of biography.
 
 ( 83 ) 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 
 
 This excellent queen was the daughter of 
 Henry II. king of Navarre, and of Margaret of 
 Orleans, sister to Francis I. king of France. 
 She was born in the year 1528. 
 
 From her childhood she was carefullv edit- 
 
 / 
 
 cated in the protestant religion, to which she 
 steadfastly adhered all her days. Bishop Burnet 
 says of her; " that she both received the 
 reformation, and brought her subjects to it: 
 that she not only reformed her court, but her 
 whole principality, to such a degree, that the 
 Golden Age seemed to have returned under 
 her; or rather, Christianity appeared again with 
 its primitive purity and lustre." 
 
 This illustrious queen, being invited to at- 
 tend the nuptials of her son and the king oi 
 France's sister, fell a sacrifice to the machina- 
 tions of the French court against the pro-
 
 84 JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 
 
 testant religion. The religious fortitude and 
 genuine piety, with which she was endued, did 
 not, however, desert her in this great conflict, 
 and at the approach of death. 
 
 To some that were about her, near the con- 
 clusion of her time, she said : " I receive all 
 this as from the hand of God, my most merciful 
 father : nor have I, during my extremity, feared 
 to die, much less murmured against God for 
 inflicting this chastisement upon me; knowing 
 that whatsoever he does with me, he so orders 
 it, that, in the end, it shall turn to my everlast- 
 ing good." 
 
 When she saw her ladies and women weep- 
 ing about her bed, she blamed them, saying: 
 " Weep not for me, I pray you. God, by this 
 sickness, calls me hence to enjoy a better life : 
 and now I shall enter into the desired haven, 
 towards which this frail vessel of mine has 
 been a long time steering." 
 
 She expressed some concern for her children, 
 as they would be deprived of her in their tender
 
 JANE, QUEEN 0F NAVARRE. 85 
 
 years ; but added : " I doubt not that God him- 
 self will be their father and protector, as he has 
 ever been mine in my greatest afflictions: I, 
 therefore, commit them wholly to his govern- 
 ment and fatherly care. I believe that Christ is 
 my only Mediator and Saviour ; and I look for 
 salvation from no other. O my God ! in thy 
 good time, deliver me from the troubles of this 
 present life, that I may attain to the felicity 
 which thou hast promised to bestow upon 
 me." 
 
 G3
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM. 
 
 Sir Francis WALSINGHAM, an eminent per- 
 son in the reign of queen Elizabeth, was born at 
 Chislehurst in Kent, of an ancient and honour- 
 able family. He made great progress in his 
 studies at Cambridge: and, to complete his 
 education, travelled into foreign countries, where 
 he acquired various languages, and great accom- 
 plishments. He was three times sent ambas- 
 sador to France. Queen Elizabeth made him 
 secretary of state, and employed him in the 
 most important affairs. He had, indeed, a great 
 share in promoting and accomplishing the ex- 
 traordinary measures which distinguished that 
 illustrious reign. It may justly be said, that he 
 was one of the most refined politicians, and most 
 penetrating statesmen, that are known in history. 
 He had an admirable talent, both in discovering 
 and managing the secret recesses of the heart. 
 To his sagacity and diligence, under Divine
 
 SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM. 8/ 
 
 Providence, may be attributed the defeat of the 
 king of Spain's grand Armada. 
 
 This great man furnished a remarkable proof 
 of liis disinterestedness, and his preference of the 
 public to his private interest; for after all his 
 eminent services to his country, he was so poor, 
 that, excepting his library, which was a very 
 fine one, he had scarcely effects enough to 
 defray the expense of his funeral. 
 
 Some time before his death, which happened 
 in 1590, he became deeply impressed with a 
 sense of the superior importance of religion to 
 all other considerations. In a letter to his fellow- 
 secretary Burleigh, lord treasurer of England, he 
 writes thus: " We have lived enough to our 
 country, our fortunes, our sovereign: it is high 
 time to begin to live to ourselves, and to our 
 God." This giving occasion for some facetious 
 person to visit, and to try to divert him; "Ah!" 
 said he, " while we laugh, all things are serious 
 around us. God is serious, who preserves us, 
 
 and has paticnee towards us; Christ is serious, 
 who shed his blood for us; the Iloly Spirit is 
 
 G4
 
 88 STR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM. 
 
 serious when he strives with us; the whole 
 creation is serious in serving God and us; all 
 are serious in another world : how suitable, then, 
 is it for man to be serious ! and how can he be 
 gay and trifling V*
 
 ( 89 ) 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 This excellent personage was descended from 
 the royal line of England, by both her parents. 
 She was carefully educated in the principles of 
 the Reformation. Besides the solid endowments 
 of piety and virtue, she possessed the most 
 engaging disposition, and the most accom- 
 plished parts. Being of an equal age with king 
 Edward VI. she received her education with 
 him, and seemed even to possess a greater 
 facility in acquiring every part of manly and 
 classical literature. She attained a knowledge 
 of the Roman and Greek languages, as well as 
 of several modern tongues ; passed most of her 
 time in application to learning; and expressed 
 a great indifference for the occupations and 
 amusements usual with persons of her sex and 
 station. Roger Ascham, tutor to the princess 
 Elizabeth, having at one time paid her a visit, 
 found her employed in reading Plato, while the 
 rest of the family were engaged in a party of
 
 90 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 hunting in the park; and upon his admiring the 
 singularity of her choice, she told him, that 
 "she received more pleasure from that author, 
 than others could reap from all their sports and 
 gaiety." 
 
 This amiable lady fell an innocent victim 
 to the wild ambition of the duke of North- 
 umberland; who having effected a marriage 
 between her and his son lord Guildford Dud- 
 ley, raised her to the throne of England, in 
 defiance of the rights of the princesses Mary 
 and Elizabeth. At the time of her marriage, 
 she was but eighteen years of age ; and her 
 husband was also very young. 
 
 Her heart, replete with the love of literature 
 and serious studies, and with tenderness towards 
 her husband, who was deserving of her affection, 
 had never opened itself to the flattering allure- 
 ments of ambition ; and the information of her 
 advancement to the throne was by no means 
 agreeable to her. She even refused to accept 
 the crown; pleaded the superior right of the two 
 princesses; expressed her dread of the conscs
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 91 
 
 quences attending an enterprise so dangerous, 
 not to say so criminal; and desired to remain 
 in that private station in which she was born. 
 Overcome at last by the entreaties, rather than 
 by the reasons, of her father and father-in-law, 
 and, above all, of her husband, she submitted to 
 their will, and was prevailed on to relinquish her 
 own judgment. But her elevation was of very 
 short continuance. The nation declared for 
 queen Mary: and lady Jane Grey, after wearing 
 the vain pageantry of a crown daring ten days, 
 returned to a private life, with much more 
 satisfaction than she could have felt when 
 royalty was tendered to her. 
 
 Queen Mary, who appears to have been in- 
 capable of generosity or clemency, determined 
 to remove every person from whom the least 
 danger could be apprehended. Warning was, 
 therefore, given to lady Jane to prepare for 
 death; a doom which she had expected, and 
 which the innocence of her life, as well as the 
 misfortunes to which she had been exposed, 
 rendered no unwelcome news to her. The 
 queen's bigoted zeal, under colour of tender
 
 92 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 mercy to the prisoner's soul, induced her to send 
 priests, who molested her with perpetual dis- 
 putation; and even a reprieve of three days was 
 granted her, in hopes that she would be per- 
 suaded, during that time, to pay, by a timely 
 conversion to popery, some regard to her eternal 
 welfare. Lady Jane had presence of mind, in 
 those melancholy circumstances, not only to 
 defend her religion by solid arguments, but also 
 to write a letter to her sister, in the Greek lan- 
 guage ; in which she exhorted her to maintain, 
 in every fortune, a like steady perseverance. 
 On the day of her execution, her husband, lord 
 Guildford, desired permission to see her; but 
 she refused her consent, and sent him word, 
 that the tenderness of their parting would over- 
 come the fortitude of both, and would too much 
 unbend their minds from that constancy, which 
 their approaching end required. Their sepa- 
 ration, she said, would be only for a moment; 
 and they would soon rejoin each other in a 
 scene, where their affections would be for ever 
 united, and where death, disappointments, and 
 misfortunes, could no longer have access to 
 them, or disturb their eternal felicity.
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 93 
 
 It had been intended to execute the lady Jane 
 and her husband on the same scaffold, at Tower- 
 hill; but the council dreading the compassion of 
 the people for their youth, beauty, innocence, 
 and noble birth, changed their orders, and gave 
 directions that they should be beheaded within 
 the verge of the Tower. She saw her husband 
 led to execution; and, having given him from 
 the window some token of her remembrance, 
 waited with tranquillity till her own appointed 
 hour should bring her to a like fate. She even 
 saw his headless body carried back in a cart; 
 and found herself more confirmed by the reports 
 which she heard of the constancy of his end, 
 than shaken by so tender and melancholy a 
 spectacle. Sir John Gage, constable of the 
 Tower, when he led her to execution, desired 
 her to bestow on him some small present, which 
 he might keep as a perpetual memorial of her. 
 She gave him her table-book, where she had 
 just written three sentences, on seeing her hus- 
 band's dead body ; one in Greek, another in 
 Latin, a third in English. The purport of them 
 was, that human justice was against his body, 
 but that Divine Mercy would be favourable to
 
 94 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 his soul; that if her fault deserved punishment, 
 her youth, at least, and her imprudence, were 
 worthy of excuse; and that God and posterity, 
 she trusted, would show her favour. On the 
 scaffold, she made a speech to the by-standers, 
 in which the mildness of her disposition led her 
 to take the blame entirely on herself, without 
 littering one complaint against the severity with 
 which she had been treated. She said, that her 
 offence was, not that she had laid her hand 
 upon the crown, but that she had not -rejected 
 it with sufficient constancy: that she had erred 
 less through ambition, than through reverence 
 to her parents, whom she had been taught to 
 respect and obey: that she willingly received 
 death, as the only satisfaction which she could 
 now make to the injured state; and though her 
 infringement of the laws had been constrained, 
 she would show, by her voluntary submission to 
 their sentence, that she was desirous to atone 
 for that disobedience, into which too much filial 
 piety had betrayed her: that she had justly 
 deserved this punishment, for being made the 
 instrument, though the unwilling instrument, 
 of the ambition of others; and that the story
 
 LADY JAKE GREY. 95 
 
 of her life, she hoped, might at least be useful, 
 by proving that innocence of intention excuses 
 pot actions that any way tend to the destruction 
 of the commonwealth. After uttering these 
 words, she caused herself to be disrobed by her 
 women, and with a steady, serene countenance, 
 submitted herself to the executioner. 
 
 AVc shall conclude the account of this virtuous 
 and excellent young person, with a few remarks 
 respecting her, made by bishop Burnet. 
 
 "She read," says he, (C the Scriptures much; 
 and had attained great knowledge of religious 
 subjects. But with all her advantages of birth 
 and parts, she was so humble, so gentle, and 
 pious, that all people both admired and loved 
 her. She had a mind wonderfully raised above 
 the world ; and at the age, when others are 
 but imbibing the notions of philosophy, she 
 had attained to the practice of the highest 
 precepts of it. She was neither lifted up with 
 the hope of a crown, nor cast down, when she 
 saw her palace made afterwards her prison ; 
 but maintained an equal temper of mind in
 
 96 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 those great inequalities of fortune, that so 
 suddenly exalted and depressed her. All the 
 passion which she expressed, was that which 
 is of the noblest sort, and which is the indi- 
 cation of tender and generous natures, being 
 much affected with the troubles which her 
 husband and father suffered on her account. 
 She rejoiced at her approaching end ; since 
 nothing could be to her more welcome, than 
 to pass from this valley of misery, to that 
 heavenly throne to which she was to be ad- 
 vanced."
 
 ( 97 ) 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh, an illustrious English- 
 man, of an ancient family in Devonshire, was 
 born in 1552. He was a man of admirable 
 parts, extensive knowledge, undaunted resolu- 
 tion, and strict honour and honesty. As a sol- 
 dier, a statesman, and a scholar, he was greatly 
 distinguished ; and was eminently useful to 
 queen Elizabeth, who protected and encouraged 
 him in the various enterprises which he pro- 
 jected. He was the discoverer of Virginia ; 
 and took effectual measures for the settlement 
 of the country, and for promoting its pros- 
 perity. 
 
 His active enterprises against the Spaniards, 
 both in Europe and South America, excited the 
 particular enmity of the court of Spain, which 
 used every means to effect his destruction. 
 During the reign of Elizabeth, these machina- 
 
 II
 
 OS SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 tions were fruitless ; but on the accession of 
 James I. sir Walter lost his interest at court, 
 was stripped of his employments, and unjustly 
 accused and condemned for a plot against the 
 king. He was afterwards trusted by James 
 with a commission of considerable importance ; 
 and thus virtually pardoned for all supposed 
 offences. The malice of his enemies, however, 
 at length prevailed against him ; and he was 
 pusilianimously sacrificed to appease the Spani- 
 ards, who, whilst Raleigh lived, thought evtry 
 part of their dominions in danger. 
 
 He was executed in Old Palace Yard, in the 
 sixty sixth year of his age. His behaviour on 
 the scaffold was manly, unaffected, and even 
 cheerful. Being asked by the executioner which 
 way he would lay his head, he answered : " So 
 the heart be right, it is no matter which way 
 the head lies." 
 
 During his imprisonment, and with the pros- 
 pect of death before him, he wrote the following 
 letters to his son, and to his wife. They con- 
 tain many solemn and affecting admonitions;
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. '99 
 
 and testify the influence of religion on his 
 mind. 
 
 In the letter to his son, he' says : " My son, 
 let my experienced advice, and fatherly instruc- 
 tions, sink deep into thy heart. Seek not riches 
 basely, nor attain them by evil means. Destroy 
 no man for his wealthy nor take any thing from 
 the poor j for the cry thereof will pierce the 
 heavens : and it is most detestable before God, 
 and most dishonourable before worthy men, to 
 wrest any thing from the needy and labouring 
 soul. God will never prosper thee, if thou 
 offendest therein. Use thy poor neighbours and 
 tenants well. Have compassion on the poor 
 and afflicted, and God will bless thee for it. 
 Make not the hungry soul sorrowful : for if he 
 curse thee in the bitterness of his spirit, his 
 prayer shall be heard of Him that made him. 
 
 " Now, for the world, dear child, I know it 
 too well to persuade thee to dive into the prac- 
 tices of it : rather stand upon thy guard against 
 all those that tempt thee to it, or may practise 
 upon thee, whether in thy conscience, thy i\ pu- 
 ll J
 
 100 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 tation, or thy estate. Be assured, that no man 
 is wise or safe, but he that is honest. Serve 
 God. Commend all thy endeavours to him, 
 who will either wither or prosper them. Please 
 him with prayer; lest if he frown, he confound 
 all thy fortune and labour, like the drops of rain 
 upon the sandy ground. May God direct thee 
 in all thy ways, and fril thy heart with his 
 grace ! " 
 
 THE FOLLOWING IS A COPY OF THE LETTER TO 
 HIS WIFE. 
 
 " You will receive, my dear wife, my last 
 words, in these my last lines. My love I send 
 you, which you may keep when I am deadj 
 and my counsel, that you may remember it 
 when I am no more. I would not, with my 
 will, present you sorrows, dear wife ; let them 
 go to the grave with me, and be buried in the 
 dust : and seeing that it is not the will of God 
 that I shall see you any more, bear my destruc- 
 tion patiently, and with a heart like yourself. 
 First, I send you all the thanks which my heart 
 can conceive, or my words express, for your
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH, *01 
 
 many travails and cares for me: for though they 
 have not taken effect, as you wished, yet my 
 debt to you is not the less ; but pay it I never 
 shall in this world. Secondly, I beseech you, 
 for the love you bear me living, that you do 
 not hide yourself many days; but by your 
 travails seek to help my miserable fortunes, and 
 the right of your poor child ; your mourning 
 cannot avail me, who am but dust. Thirdly, 
 you shall understand, that my lands were con- 
 veyed, bona fide, to my child ; the writings 
 were drawn at midsummer was a twelvemonth, 
 as divers can witness. I trust my blood will 
 quench their malice who desired my slaughter; 
 and that they will not seek to kill you and 
 yours with extreme poverty. 
 
 *' To what friend to direct you, I know not ; 
 for all mine have left me in the true time of 
 trial. Most sorry I am, that being surprised by 
 death, I can leave you no better estate : God 
 hath prevented all my determinations ; that great 
 God, who worketh all in all. If you can live 
 free from want, care for no more ; tor the rest 
 is but vanity. Love God, and begin bv times ; 
 
 HS
 
 102 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 iii him you will find true and endless comfort : 
 when you have travailed and wearied yourself 
 with all sorts of worldly cogitations, you will sit 
 down with sorrow in the end. Teach your 
 son also to fear and serve God whilst he is 
 young, that the fear of God may grow up in 
 him : then God will be a husband to you, and 
 a father to him ; a husband and father that 
 can never be taken from you. 
 
 " Dear wife, I beseech you, for my soul's 
 sake, pay all poor men. When I am dead, no 
 doubt you will be much sought unto - 3 for the 
 world thinks I was very rich. Have a care of 
 the fair pretences of men $ for no greater misery 
 can befall you in this life, than to become a 
 prey to the world, and afterwards to be despised. 
 As for me, I am no more yours, nor you mine : 
 death has cut us asunder, and God has divided 
 me from the world, and you from me. Re- 
 member your poor child, for his father's sake, 
 who loved you in his happiest state. I sued for 
 my life ; but, God knows, it was for you and 
 yours that I desired it : for know it, my dear 
 wife, your child is the child of a true man, who
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 103 
 
 in his own respect despises death, and his mis- 
 shapen and ugly forms. I cannot write much : 
 God knows how hardly I steal this time, when 
 all are asleep : and it is also time for me to 
 separate my thoughts from the world. Beg my 
 body, which living was denied you ; and either 
 lay it in Sherborne, or in Exeter church, by my 
 father and mother. 
 
 " I can say no more : time and death call 
 me away. The everlasting God, powerful, in- 
 finite, and inscrutable ; God Almighty, who is 
 goodness itself, the true light and life; keep you 
 and yours, and have mercy upon me, and for- 
 give my persecutors and false accusers, and send 
 us to meet in his glorious kingdom ! My dear 
 wife, farewell! bless my boy; pray for me; 
 and may God hold you both in his arms. 
 
 " Yours that was, but not now mine own. 
 
 Walter Raleigh." 
 
 114
 
 ( 104 ) 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 RICHARD HOOKER. 
 
 Richard Hooker was born near Exeter, in 
 the year 1553. He possessed great learning 
 and sound judgment ; and distinguished himself 
 by a celebrated work, entitled, " The Laws of 
 Ecclesiastical Pol'ty." He was a meek and 
 pious man, and spent his days in labouring to 
 promote the glory of his Creator, and the 
 happiness of men. 
 
 His exemplary life did not, however, secure 
 him from enemies, by whom he was grossly 
 calumniated, and charged with conduct which 
 he abhorred. Over these attacks, the good pro- 
 vidence of God enabled him, at length, to 
 triumph ; and his slanderers were convicted, and 
 duly punished. His grateful acknowledgments 
 to Heaven, for this deliverance, were expressed 
 in these terms : " O my God, neither my life,
 
 RICHARD HOOKER. 105 
 
 nor my reputation, is safe in my own keep- 
 ing; but in thine* who didst care for me, 
 when I yet hung on my mother's breast* 
 Blessed are they who put their trust in thee : 
 for when false witnesses were risen up against 
 me j when shame was ready to cover my 
 face ; when I was bowed down with a horrible 
 dread, and went mourning all the day long; 
 thou, O Lord, didst hear my complaint, pity 
 my condition, and art now become my de- 
 liverer. As long as I live, I will magnify 
 thy mercy, who didst not give me over to 
 my enemies." 
 
 When his slanderers were about to be 
 punished, he endeavoured to procure their 
 pardon: but finding his labours for this pur- 
 pose fruitless, he observed, "that he would, 
 however, pray, that God would give them 
 repentance, and patience to undergo their 
 punishment." After this deliverance, he was 
 often heard to say : " O, with what quiet- 
 ness did I enjoy my soul, after I was free 
 from the fears of this slander ! And how
 
 105 RICHARD HOOKER. 
 
 much more, after the conflict with myself, 
 and the victory over my desires of re- 
 venge I" 
 
 Hooker was not happy in his marriage : but 
 he endeavoured to profit by this trial, and to be 
 cheerfully resigned to the will of God. To a 
 friend, who expressed his sorrow for the troubles 
 in which he saw him involved, he humbly re- 
 plied in this manner : " My dear friend, if saints 
 have usually a double share in the miseries of 
 this life, I that am none ought not to repine at 
 what my wise Creator hath allotted for me > but 
 I ought to labour, as indeed I do daily, to sub- 
 mit to his will, and to possess my soul in 
 patience and peace." 
 
 A short time before his death, this humble 
 and truly good man, expressed himself as fol- 
 lows : "I have lived to see that this world is 
 full of perturbations ; and I have been long pre- 
 paring to leave it, and gathering comfort for the 
 awful hour of making up my account with 
 God, which I now apprehend to be near. And
 
 RICHARD HOOKER. 107 
 
 though I have, by his grace, loved him in my 
 youth, and feared him in my age, and laboured 
 to have a conscience void of offence towards 
 him, and towards all men ; yet, if thou, Lord, 
 shouldst be extreme to mark what I have done 
 amiss, how shall I abide it ? Where I have failed, 
 Lord, show mercy to me ; for I plead not my 
 righteousness, but the forgiveness of my un- 
 righteousness, through his merits who died to 
 purchase pardon for penitent sinners. And 
 since I owe thee a death, Lord, let it not be 
 terrible, and then choose thy own time ; I sub- 
 mit to it. Let not mine, O Lord, but thy will 
 be done!" 
 
 At another time, he said : " God hath heard 
 my daily petition: for I am at peace with all 
 men, and he is at peace with me. From 
 this blessed assurance, I feel that inward joy, 
 which the world can neither give, nor take 
 from me My conscience bearcth me this 
 witness ; and this witness makes the thoughts 
 of death jusful. I could wish to live, to do 
 the church more service; but I cannot hope
 
 108 RICHARD HOOKER. 
 
 it; for my days are passed, as a shadow that 
 returns not." 
 
 Soon after he had uttered these expressions, 
 his spirits failed him ; and a short conflict 
 put a period to his life, in the forty seventh 
 year of his age.
 
 ( 109 ) 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON LORD DACON 
 
 SIR HENRY WOTTON PETER DU MOULIN DR. DONNE 
 
 PHILIP III. KING OP SPAIN -CATHARINE BRETTERG 
 
 OXENST1ERN, CHANCELLOR OF SWEDEN HUGO GROT1US 
 
 JOHN SELDEN CARDINAL RICHELIEU LORD HARRINGTON 
 
 SALMAS1US. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 
 
 Om Philip Sidney was born in Kent, in 
 the year 1554. He possessed shining talents; 
 was well educated ; and at the early age 
 of twenty-one, was sent by queen Eliza- 
 beth, as her ambassador to the emperor of 
 Germany. He is described by the writers of 
 that age, as the finest model of an ac- 
 complished gentleman that could be formed, 
 even in imagination. An amiable disposition,
 
 110 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 
 
 elegant erudition, and polite conversation, ren- 
 dered him the ornament and delight of the 
 English court. Lord Brooke so highly valued 
 his friendship, that he directed to be inserted 
 as part of his epitaph, " Here lies sir Philip 
 Sidney's friend." His fame was so widely 
 spread, that, if he had chosen it, he might 
 have obtained the crown of Poland. 
 
 But the glory of this Marcellus of the 
 English nation, was of short duration. He 
 was wounded at the battle of Zutphen, and 
 carried to Arnheim, where, after languishing 
 about three weeks, he died, in the thirty 
 second vear of his ao;e. 
 
 This accomplished person, at the solemn 
 period of approaching death, when a just 
 estimate of things is formed, and when the 
 mind looks round for support and consolation, 
 perceived that the greatest worldly honours 
 are only splendid vanities, and have but a 
 momentary duration. At this period, he was 
 so dissatisfied with his "Arcadia," a romantic 
 work, ill agreeing with his present serious
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. Ill 
 
 views of things, that, it is said, he desired it 
 might never be published. 
 
 After he had received the fatal wound, and 
 was brought into a tent, he piously raised his 
 eyes towards Heaven, and acknowledged the 
 hand of God in this event. He confessed 
 himself to be a sinner ; and returned thanks 
 to God " that he had not slruck him with 
 death at once, but gave him space to seek 
 repentance and reconciliation.'*' 
 
 Compared with his present views of reli- 
 gion, his former virtues seemed to be nothing. 
 When it was observed to him, that good men, 
 in the time of great affliction, found comfort 
 and support in the recollection of those parts 
 of their lives, in which they had glorified God ; 
 he humbly replied : " It is not so in me. I 
 have no comfort that way. AH things in my 
 former life have been vain." 
 
 On being asked whether he did not desire 
 life, merely to have it in his power to glorify 
 God, he answered : " I have vowed my life
 
 112 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 
 
 unto God; and if he cut me off, and suffer 
 me to live no longer, I shall glorify him, and 
 give up myself to his service.'* 
 
 The nearer death approached him, the more 
 his consolation and hopes increased. A short 
 time before his dissolution, he lifted ap his 
 eyes and hands, and uttered these words ; 
 " I would not change my joy for the empire 
 of the world." 
 
 His advice and observations, on taking the 
 last leave of his deeply afflicted brother, are 
 worthy of remembrance. They appear to 
 have been expressed with great seriousness and 
 composure. (t Love my memory ; cherish my 
 friends. Their fidelity to me may assure you 
 that they are honest. But, above all, govern 
 your wills and affections, by the will and word 
 of your Creator. In me, behold the end of 
 this world, and all its vanities."
 
 ( "3 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. 
 
 Sir Christopher Hatton possessed great 
 abilities, highly cultivated by study and busi- 
 ness. He was remarhable for his eloquence 
 and powers of persuasion. Queen Elizabeth, 
 by whom he was greatly esteemed and favoured, 
 made him lord high chancellor of England. 
 And it was remarkable, that though he had 
 never followed the profession of the law, his 
 knowledge of it was so profound, that none of 
 his decisions, as chancellor, were ever found 
 deficient, either in equity or judgment. 
 
 This learned man had a high veneration for 
 the Holy Scriptures ; and, a short time before 
 his death, particularly recommended to his re- 
 lations, to search them seriously and diligently, 
 in order to discover the will of God. " It is," 
 said he, "justly accounted a piece of excel- 
 lent knowledge, to understand the law of the 
 
 I
 
 114 SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. 
 
 land, and the customs of our country; but 
 how much more excellent is it, to know the 
 statutes of Heaven, and the laws of eternity, 
 the immutable and perpetual laws of justice 
 and righteousness ! to know the will and plea- 
 sure of the great Monarch and universal King 
 of the world ! * I have seen an end of all 
 perfection ; but thy commandments, O God ! 
 are exceeding broad.' " 
 
 The knowledge of the Divine will, is, in- 
 deed, the most important of all knowledge. 
 Were we possessed of the most comprehensive 
 understanding, the finest imagination, and the 
 most capacious memory; were we able to 
 penetrate into all the secrets of nature, and 
 sound the depths of every art and science ; 
 and yet remain ignorant of, or disregard, Him 
 who is the Author of our being and the Pre- 
 server of our lives, our Sovereign and our Judge; 
 we should, with a great deal of knowledge, 
 mistake our highest interests, and be miserable 
 for ever.
 
 ( "5 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 LORD BACON, 
 
 Francis Bacon, viscount St. Albans, and 
 lord high chancellor of England, was born 
 in the year 1561. The following account 
 of this celebrated philosopher, is taken from 
 Addison. 
 
 rt Sir Francis Bacon was a man who, for 
 greatness of genius, and compass of knowledge, 
 did honour to his age and country j I could 
 almost say, to human nature itself. He pos- 
 sessed at once all those extraordinary talents, 
 which were divided amongst the greatest au- 
 thors of antiquity. He had the sound, dis- 
 tinct, comprehensive knowledge of Aristotle, 
 with all the beautiful lights, graces, and em- 
 bellishments of Cicero. One does not know 
 which to admire most in his writings, the 
 strength of reason, the force of style, or the 
 brightness of imagination.
 
 116 LORD BACON. 
 
 " I was infinitely pleased to find, among the 
 works of this extraordinary man, a prayer of 
 his own composing, which, for the elevation 
 of thought, and greatness of expression, seems 
 rather the devotion of an angel than of a man. 
 His principal fault appears to have been, the 
 excess of that virtue which covers a multitude 
 of faults. This betrayed him to so great an 
 indulgence towards his servants, wlio made a 
 corrupt use of it, that it stripped him of those 
 riches and honours, which a long series of 
 merits had heaped upon him, But in this 
 prayer, at the same time that we find him 
 prostrating himself before the great mercy- 
 seat, and humbled under afflictions, which at 
 that time lay heavy upon him, we see him 
 supported by the sense of his integrity, his 
 zeal, his devotion, and his love of mankind ; 
 which gave him a much higher figure, in the 
 minds of thinking men, than that greatness 
 had done from which he was fallen. I shall 
 write down the prayer itself as it was found 
 among his lordship's papeit., written with his 
 own hand.
 
 LORD BACOX. 117 
 
 " Most gracious Lord God, my merciful 
 Father ; my Creator, my Redeemer, my Com- 
 forter ! thou soundest and searchest the depths 
 and secrets of all hearts; thou acknowledgest 
 the upright; thou judgest the hypocrite; 
 vanity and crooked ways cannot be hid from 
 thee. 
 
 " Remember, O Lord, how thy servant has 
 walked before thee; remember what I have 
 first sought, and what has been principal in 
 my intentions. I have loved thy assemblies ; 
 I have mourned for the divisions of thy church ; 
 I have delighted in the brightness of thy sanc- 
 tuary; I have ever prayed unto thee, that the 
 vine which thy right hand hath planted in 
 this nation, might have the former and the 
 latter rain ; and that it might stretch its 
 branches to the seas, and to the floods. The 
 state and bread of the poor and oppressed have 
 been precious in my eyes ; I have hated all 
 cruelty and hardness of heart; I have, though 
 a despised weed, endeavoured to procure the 
 good of all men. If any have been my 
 enemies, I thought not of them, neither has 
 
 13
 
 118 LORD BACON. 
 
 the sun gone down upon my displeasure : 
 but I have been as a dove, free from super- 
 fluity of maliciousness. Thy creatures have 
 been my books ; but thy Scriptures much more 
 so. I have sought thee in the courts, the 
 fields, and the gardens ; but I have found thee 
 in thy temples, 
 
 " Thousands have been my sins, and ten 
 thousands my transgressions : but thy sancti- 
 fications have remained with me ; and my 
 heart, through thy grace, hath been an un- 
 quenched coal upon tjiine altar. 
 
 ** O Lord, my strength I I have, from my 
 youth, met with thee in all my ways ; in thy 
 fatherly compassions, in thy merciful chastise- 
 ments, and in thy most visible providences. 
 As thy favours have increased upon me, so 
 have thy corrections; as my worldly blessings 
 were exalted, so secret darts from thee have 
 pierced me; and when I have ascended before 
 men, I have descended in humiliation before 
 thee. And now, when I have .been thinking 
 most of peace and honour, thy hand is heavy
 
 LORD BACOX. 119 
 
 upon me, and has humbled me according to 
 thy former loving kindness, keeping me still 
 in thy fatherly school, not as a bastard, but 
 as a child. Just are thy judgments upon me 
 for my sins, which are more in number than 
 the sands of the sea, but which have no pro- 
 portion to thy mercies. Besides my innume- 
 rable sins, I confess before thee, that I am 
 a debtor to thee for the gracious talent of tliy 
 gifts and graces ; which I have neither put 
 into a napkin, nor placed, as I ought, with 
 exchangers, where it might have made best 
 profit 5 but I have mispent it in things for 
 which I was least fit : so I may truly say, 
 my soul has been a stranger in the course 
 of my pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me, O 
 Lord, for my Saviour's sake ; and receive me 
 into thy bosom, or guide me in thy ways." 
 
 14
 
 ( 120 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 SIR HENRY WOTTON. 
 
 Sir HENRY Wotton, an Englishman, emi- 
 nent for learning, and for knowledge in state 
 affairs, was born in the year 1568. He was 
 often employed by James the first, as am- 
 bassador to several of the European states ; 
 and discharged the trust reposed in him, with 
 ability, and to the satisfaction of the king. 
 He enjoyed the favour of this prince, and 
 was much esteemed and admired by his co- 
 temporaries. But these honours did not af- 
 ford him that satisfaction which a wise man 
 wishes to obtain. Amidst them all, he could 
 say : " It is the greatest happiness of my 
 life, to be at leisure to be, and to do 
 good." 
 
 Though he was much esteemed for his wis- 
 <lom and regular deportment, yet, near the
 
 SIR HENRY WOTTON. 121 
 
 end of his days, when he reflected seriously 
 on his past life, he felt great concern j and 
 often repeated these solemn expressions : " How 
 much have I to repent of, and how little time 
 to do it in ! "
 
 { 122 ) 
 
 SECTION V, 
 
 PETER DU MOULIN. 
 
 PETER DU Moulin, an eminent protestant 
 minister in France, was born in the year 1568. 
 Bayle calls him " one of the most celebrated 
 ministers, that the reformed church in France 
 ever had to boast of." He was a man of 
 such eminence, that James the first of Eng- 
 land, employed him to attempt the accom- 
 plishment of a union, between the reformed 
 and Lutheran churches. This pious and ex- 
 cellent man was remarkable, through life, for 
 a low opinion of himself, and an unwearied 
 diligence in doing good. In his last sickness, 
 his meekness and humility were particularly 
 prevalent. On hearing himself praised by one 
 who thought he undervalued himself, he said, 
 with indignation : " Away with this flattery, 
 and pray to God to have mercy on me." 
 " Lord," said he, " I have deserved nothing
 
 PETER DU MOULIN. 123 
 
 but punishment. Thou hast heaped blessings 
 upon me. Thou hast honoured me with a 
 holy calling; but I have not laboured accord- 
 ing to the worth of it: I have mingled my 
 own glory with thine. I have often neglected 
 thy service, to seek my particular interest. 
 O, how much self-love ! what perverseness has 
 opposed the kingdom of thy son within me ! 
 How often have I grieved thy Holy Spirit, by 
 idle thoughts and carnal affections! and yet 
 thou hast always shown thyself a gracious and 
 merciful Father to me. Thou hast, indeed, 
 sometimes chastened me with thy rod. Thou 
 hast hid thy face from me, for a moment: 
 but thou hast remembered me in thy great 
 compassion. Lord, thou art faithful in thy 
 promises. I am thy creature. Thou hast led 
 me, and taught me, from my youth : O for- 
 sake me not in this last period of my life." 
 
 To a person who commended his service, 
 in the cause of religion, he replied: "Ah, my 
 friend, you know not how much you grieve 
 me by such language. I have not done all 
 the good I ought to have done: and that little
 
 124 PETER DU MOULIN. 
 
 benefit which the church has reaped by my 
 labours, is not from me, but from the grace 
 of God which is in me; as he frequently 
 produces a good effect with a weak instru- 
 ment. I am conscious that I have neglected 
 my duty in many things, and offended my 
 God; but I have loved his holy truth, and 
 I hope in his mercy..'* 
 
 His sickness was an inflammation of the 
 lungs, with an ague, which returned with 
 double violence every day at the same hour. 
 Recovering from one of these fits, he said : 
 " My God, when shall I rest in thy bosom? 
 When shall I drink of the river of thy plea- 
 sures? I am unworthy of it, O my God! 
 but thou art glorified by doing good to the 
 unworthy. It is not for them who are whole, 
 but for those who are sick, that thy son, the 
 great physician, was sent." 
 
 A little" before his death, awaking about 
 midnight, he said to a person who attended 
 him : " I shall now soon be relieved. I am 
 going to my Father and my God. He has
 
 PETER DU MOULIN. 125 
 
 heard me indeed. I go to him with confi- 
 dence; for he has arrayed me with the robe 
 of his righteousness." Soon after this, he 
 gently expired; and his countenance retained 
 the expression of joy.
 
 ( 126 ) 
 
 section vr. 
 
 DR. DONNE. 
 
 John Donne, an excellent English poet,, 
 was born in the year* 1573. He was educated 
 in his father's house till the eleventh year of his 
 age, when he was sent to the university of 
 Oxford 3 where it was observed of him, that 
 " he was rather born wise, than made so by 
 study." He travelled through Italy and Spain ; 
 where he made many useful observations, and 
 became well acquainted with the languages of 
 those countries. After his return to England, 
 he was solicited to go into orders, and to ac- 
 cept of a benefice. But, at first, he prudently 
 declined this offer for several reasons : chiefly, 
 " because some former irregularities of his life, 
 had been too notorious not to expose him to 
 the censure of the world ; and would, perhaps, 
 bring dishonour upon the sacred function." 
 He was, however, strenuously urged by king 
 James the first, with whom he was a great
 
 DR. DONN& 127 
 
 favourite, to enter into the clerical office: and 
 after having maturely weighed the subject, and 
 employed a considerable time in improving 
 himself by close study, he complied with the 
 king's desire. He was ordained deacon and 
 priest by the bishop of London ; and soon 
 after was appointed one of the king's chap- 
 lains. On the royal recommendation, he was- 
 presented with the degree of Doctor of Divi- 
 nity, by the university of Cambridge, 
 
 Dr. Donne moved in a large circle of friends 
 and acquaintance. He was much visited and 
 caressed by the nobility, foreign ministers, and 
 other persons of distinction. So generally was 
 he beloved and esteemed, that, within the first 
 year of entering into orders, he received offers 
 of fourteen different benefices, from persons of 
 rank. He preferred, however, settling in Lon- 
 don ; and was made preacher of Lincoln's 
 Inn. About this time, his domestic happiness 
 suffered a severe shock, by the death of a 
 beloved wife, who left him with a young 
 family of seven children. Some years after 
 this event, he had a dangerous illness ; which
 
 128 DR. DONNE. 
 
 gave occasion to a work entitled, " Devotions 
 upon emergent occasions " in which the fer- 
 vour of his soul is strongly expressed. He re- 
 covered from this indisposition; and lived in 
 good health, till he was seized with a fever 
 in 1630, after which he began to decline. 
 Foreseeing his end, he prepared for it with 
 great resignation. He was, however, much 
 affected with the retrospect of life : and on 
 his death-bed, upon taking a solemn leave of 
 his friends, he made this striking declaration 
 to them : " I repent of all my life, except 
 that part of it, which I spent in communion 
 with God, and in doing good."
 
 ( 129 ) 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 PHILIP III. KING OF SPAIN. 
 
 Philip the third was born in the year 
 1-577* and succeeded to the crown of Spain, in 
 the twenty first year of his age. Of an inactive 
 disposition, and averse to the trouble of go- 
 verning a great kingdom, he committed the 
 whole administration of affairs to his minister 
 and favourite : and this was the source of 
 many calamities to his subjects, and of per- 
 plexity and distress to himself, 
 
 When this king drew near (tie end of his 
 days, he desired, as the last action of his life, 
 to sec, and to bless his children. lie told 
 the prince, his successor, lie had sent for him, 
 " that he might behold the vanity of crowns 
 and tiaras, and learn to prepare for eternity." 
 lie kindly addressed all his children ; gave them 
 his blessing; and dismissed them with fervent 
 prayers for their happiness, both here and here- 
 after.
 
 130 PHILIP III. KING OF SPAIN. 
 
 During the progress of his disorder, he ap- 
 peared to be greatly disturbed in mind. He 
 made repeated confessions of his sins, and im- 
 plored Divine mercy. He said to those around 
 him, that he had often been guilty of dissimu- 
 lation in matters of government. He deeply 
 regretted his indolence, and blamed himself 
 much for having devolved the cares of the 
 state on his ministers. When he reflected, 
 that he had not, in all things, made the will 
 of God the rule of his government, he trembled, 
 crying out, at different times : " Oh ! if it 
 should please Heaven to prolong my life, how 
 different from the past should be my future 
 conduct !" Though the retrospect of his life 
 filled his mind with bitter regret, and painful 
 apprehensions, he expressed a hope that, 
 through the merits of the Redeemer, he should 
 at last be received into the mansions of the 
 blessed. The affecting expressions of his re- 
 pentance and devotion, drew tears from the 
 eyes of those who surrounded him. The priest 
 who attended hhn, unwilling to bruise a broken 
 reed, endeavoured to cheer and compose his 
 troubled mind, by consolatory views of the
 
 PHILIP III. KTNG OF SPAIN. 131 
 
 Divine mercy, and the assurances which the 
 Gospel affords, of assistance to the weak, and 
 of pardon to the penitent. At length, the 
 alternate tumult of hope and fear, which had 
 so greatly agitated his mind, subsided into 
 a gentle calm ; and he died peacefully in the 
 forty third year of his life, and the twenty 
 third of his reign. 
 
 K2
 
 ( 132 ) 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 CATHARINE BRETTERG. 
 
 Catharine Bretterg was born in Cheshirey 
 about the year 1580, artd was the daughter of 
 John Bruen, esq. of Bruen Stapleford. From 
 a child, she was much employed in reading 
 the Holy Scriptures, which she found of great 
 use and comfort to her. She was moderate 
 and sober in the enjoyment of the good things 
 of this life; and carefully avoided the vain 
 pleasures and fashions in which many greatly 
 delight themselves. The society of religious 
 people was very comfortable and pleasant to 
 her; and it appears that, from her childhood 
 to the end of her days, she was concerned 
 to live in the fear of God, and to walk before 
 him with a perfect heart. 
 
 This excellent woman, in the beginning of 
 her last sickness, was permitted to labour 
 under great exercise and conflict of spirit :
 
 CATHARINE BRETTERG. 133 
 
 but she was mercifully supported under this 
 trial; and the victory was, in due time, gra- 
 ciously given to her. ' 
 
 Her dependence on the Fountain of Wisdom 
 and Strength, for relief from this trying state 
 of mind, is evidenced by the following pious 
 and fervent prayer: " O Lord God of my 
 salvation, help my weakness ; plead thou my 
 cause, O God of Truth, for in thee do I trust ! 
 O blessed Saviour, perfect the work, I humbly 
 beseech thee, which thou hast begun in me." 
 
 At another time, after she had experienced 
 deliverance from this conflict, she expressed 
 herself in the following manner : " Oh, my 
 God, blessed be thy name for evermore, who 
 hast shown me the path of life. Thou didst, 
 O Lord, hide thy face from me for a little 
 season, but with everlasting mercy thou hast 
 had compassion on me. And now, blessed 
 Lord, thy comforting presence is come; yea, 
 Lord, thou hast had respect to thy handmaid, 
 and art come with fulness of joy and abundance 
 of consolation." 
 
 K3
 
 134 CATHARINE BRETTERG. 
 
 When she was near her end, her strength 
 and voice being very feeble, she lifted up her 
 eyes, and with a sweet countenance, and still 
 voice, said : " My warfare is accomplished, 
 and my iniquities are pardoned. Lord, whom 
 have I in heaven but thee ? And I have none 
 on earth besides thee. My flesh faileth, and 
 my heart also; but God is the strength of 
 my heart, and my portion for ever. He that 
 preserveth Jacob, and defendeth Israel, is my 
 God, and will guide me unto death. Direct 
 me, O Lord, my God, and keep my soul in 
 safety." 
 
 Soon after she had expressed these words, she 
 yielded up her soul in peace to her Creator.
 
 ( 135 ) 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 OXENSTIERN. 
 
 OXENSTIERN, chancellor of Sweden, was a 
 man of great abilities, and uncorrupted inte- 
 grity. On the accession of Christina to the 
 crown of Sweden, the regency, during her mi- 
 nority, devolved upon him and four others: 
 but so great was their confidence in Oxenstiern, 
 that he was invested with the chief manage- 
 ment of affairs; and he conducted himself with 
 singular wisdom and uprightness. In the great 
 schemes which he formed for the interest of 
 his country, he was very successful ; and was 
 highly esteemed, not only by his countrymen, 
 but by the most eminent persons in Europe. 
 
 This great statesman spent a part of his time 
 in retirement, from which he derived the highest 
 advantage. In his retreat, he was visited by 
 Whitelockc, ambassador from England to queen 
 Christina ; and in the conclusion of their dis- 
 
 K 4
 
 136 OXENSTJERN. 
 
 course, he made the following very interesting 
 observations ; " I have seen and enjoyed much 
 of this world; but I never knew how to live 
 till now. I thank my gracious God, who has 
 given me time to know him, and to know 
 myself. All the comfort I have, and which 
 is more than the whole world can give, is, 
 feeling the good Spirit of God in my heart, 
 and reading in this excellent book, (holding up 
 the Bible,) that came from it." 
 
 This enlightened and experienced man then 
 addressed the ambassador, as follows : " You 
 are now in the prime of your age and vigour, 
 and in great favour and business ; but all this 
 will leave you, and you will one day better 
 understand and relish what I say. You will 
 then find, that there is more true enjoyment in 
 turning your heart from the world, to the good 
 Spirit of God, and in reading the Bible, than 
 in all the honours of courts and favours of 
 princes." 
 
 The preceding account is given by William 
 Penn, who says he had it, more than once,
 
 OXENSTIERN. 137 
 
 from the ambassador himself. The sentiments 
 expressed by Oxenstiern are particularly inte- 
 resting, if we reflect, that they came from one 
 of the greatest and wisest men of the age, 
 when his mind and body were sound and 
 vigorous, and when he was best able to judge 
 of human life.
 
 ( 138 ) 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 HUGO GROT I US. 
 
 HUGO GrOTIUS was born in Holland, in the 
 year 1583. He possessed the most happy dis- 
 position, a profound genius, a solid judgment, 
 and a wonderful memory. These extraordinary 
 natural endowments had all the advantages that 
 education could give them - 3 and he was so 
 happy as to find, in his own father, a pious 
 and an able instructer, who formed his mind 
 and his morals. Before he was fifteen, he main- 
 tained public theses in mathematics, philosophy, 
 and law, with the highest applause : and he 
 ventured to form plans that required very great 
 learning, but which he executed in so finished 
 a manner, that the republic of letters were 
 struck with astonishment. 
 
 He strenuously engaged in the controversies 
 respecting religious opinions, which, at that 
 time, occupied the learned men of the United
 
 HUGO GROTIUS. 139 
 
 States; and the part which he took, in these 
 disputes, involved him in great trouble and 
 perplexity. He afterwards became the queen 
 of Sweden's ambassador at Paris. This dignity, 
 however, was not agreeable to a man of his 
 turn of mind. His sentiments respecting it, 
 are contained in a letter which he wrote to his 
 father from Paris. " I am," says he, " really 
 quite tired out with honours. A private and 
 a quiet life alone has charms for mej and I 
 should be very happy, if I were in a situation, 
 in which I could employ myself upon works 
 of piety, and works that might be useful to 
 posterity." 
 
 He had the highest respect for religion and 
 virtue, in whatever condition of life they were 
 found; and how much he preferred them to 
 all that the world could bestow, appears from 
 the following declaration : " I would give all 
 my learning and honour, for the plain inte- 
 grity of John Urick, a poor man of great 
 piety, who spent eight hours of his time in 
 prayer, eight in labour, and but eight in meals, 
 sleep, and other necessaries."
 
 140 HUGO GROTIUS. 
 
 To one who admired his great industry, he 
 returned an answer, to this effect : " Ah ! I 
 have consumed much of my life, in laboriously 
 doing nothing." And to another, who in- 
 quired of him what course of life he would 
 advise him to take, he solemnly answered: 
 " Be serious." 
 
 In his last sickness, which was of short 
 duration, he appears to have been tranquil, 
 and resigned to the will of God. He ex- 
 pressed his faith in Jesus Christ, and declared 
 that his hope rested upon him. To one who 
 mentioned to him the publican spoken of in 
 the Gospel, he humbly replied : " I am that 
 publican ;" and soon after expired. 
 
 Grotius, notwithstanding the embassies and 
 other public business in which he was em- 
 ployed, composed a great number of excellent 
 and much admired works : the principal of 
 which are, " A Treatise on the Rights of Peace 
 and War;" " A Treatise on the Truth of the 
 Christian Religion;" "Commentaries on the 
 Holy Scriptures ;" and " The History and
 
 HUGO GROTlUS. 141 
 
 Annals of Holland." He appears to have 
 laboured much for the benefit of his fellow- 
 creatures ; and we trust that his expressions 
 of regret, respecting the employment of his 
 time, proceeded from the humble state of 
 his mind, and not from the consciousness of 
 having neglected any important duties of life. 
 
 When great talents and learning are, from 
 pure motives, and in true humility, consecrated 
 fo the service of truth and religion, they be- 
 come acceptable offerings in the Divine sight, 
 and often eminently promote the good of man- 
 kind. But when we misapply these qualifica- 
 tions, suffer them to nourish pride and vanity, 
 or attribute to them an efficacy in producing 
 virtue and happiness, that docs not necessarily 
 belong to them ; they occasion an unhappy 
 waste of our time, and lay the foundation for 
 bitter regret in the Minding up of life. 
 
 The worth and importance of those advan- 
 tages are lamentably overrated, if our estimation 
 of them is so high, and our pursuit so ardent, 
 as to dispose us to undervalue, or disregard,
 
 142 HUGO GROTIUS. 
 
 that most solemn injunction of our Lord : 
 "Seek ye, first," (early, and in preference to 
 all other things,) " the kingdom of God, and 
 his righteousness ;" remembering that this is 
 " the one thing needful." 
 
 Whilst the mind is occupied with the variety 
 and intricacy of speculation and literary en- 
 gagements, and the heart elated with the flat- 
 tering distinctions which they produce, we 
 may not sufficiently perceive the importance 
 of this Divine injunction : but when the close 
 of our day approaches, and the retrospect of 
 life is made ; when the ardour of pursuit lias 
 abated, and the delusions of vanity and pas- 
 sion are at an end ; we shall form a true esti- 
 mate of the worth of all sublunary attainments 
 and possessions. We shall then, if not before, 
 perceive that, to have our conversation in the 
 world with simplicity and uprightness; to re- 
 ceive the truths of the Gospel with meekness 
 and cordiality; to be pure and humble in 
 heart ; to love our neighbours as ourselves, 
 and God above all things ; and, by these 
 means, to secure an incorruptible and immor-
 
 HUGO CROTIUS. 143 
 
 tal inheritance ; are attainments of infinitely 
 greater moment, than all the accomplishments 
 of mind and body, and all the possessions and 
 honours, that this world can bestow. 
 
 As it is, therefore, our highest wisdom, may 
 it also be our greatest concern, seasonably to 
 anticipate these reflections ; and so to temper 
 and regulate all our studies, and all the en- 
 gagements of this life, that they may coincide 
 with, and promote, the great end of our 
 being !
 
 ( 144 ) 
 
 SECTION XI. 
 
 JOHN SELDEN. 
 
 John Selden, a native of Sussex, was bom 
 in the year 1584. He was profoundly learned, 
 and skilled in the Hebrew and Oriental lan- 
 guages, beyond any man of his time : Grotius 
 styles him the glory of the English nation. 
 His mind also was as great as his learning. 
 He was hospitable, generous, and charitable ; 
 he took great delight in doing good, and in 
 communicating his knowledge i above all, he 
 was a sincere and eminent Christian. 
 
 This celebrated man, when he was near the 
 end of his days, declared, in a conference with 
 archbishop Usher, that, " though he had been 
 very laborious in his literary inquiries, and had 
 possessed himself of a great number of valu- 
 able books and manuscripts, upon all ancient 
 subjects 5 yet he could rest the happiness of 
 his soul on none of them, except the Holy
 
 JOHN SELDEN. 145 
 
 Scriptures. He said that the following pas- 
 sage, in a very particular manner, affected his 
 mind : " The grace of God, which bringcth 
 salvation, hath appeared unto all men ; teach- 
 ing us, that denying ungodliness and worldly 
 lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and 
 godly, in this present world j looking for that 
 blessed hope and glorious appearing of the 
 great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ j who 
 gave himself for us, that he might redeem us 
 from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a 
 peculiar people zealous of good works," This 
 is, indeed, a most interesting declaration. It sets 
 forth the universal love of God j the duties of 
 men, with the means of performing them ; the 
 redemption from sin through Jesus Christ; and 
 a glorious reward to the faithful hereafter.
 
 ( 146 ) 
 
 SECTION XJI. 
 
 CARDINAL IlICHELJEU. 
 
 UlCHELIEU, an eminent cardinal and mini- 
 ster of state in France, was born of a noble 
 family at the castle of Richelieu, in the year 
 1585. Being a man of prodigious capacity, 
 and of a restless and insatiable ambition, he 
 formed vast designs, which made his life a 
 series of agitations and perplexities. He found 
 himself frequently under the necessity of op- 
 posing the grandees of the kingdom, the royal 
 family, the whole house of Austria, and even 
 Louis XIII. himself. Amidst his greatest 
 and most arduous concerns, he did not neglect 
 to cultivate literature, and to show himself a 
 patron of men of letters. He manifested a 
 particular regard for persons of the religious 
 orders ; and advanced those who were most 
 remarkable for their abilities and virtues. He 
 made many friends, and many enemies ; bur.
 
 CARDINAL RICHELIEU. 14? 
 
 his consummate policy enabled him to triumph 
 over all the machinations of his opponents. 
 
 When this great statesman approached the 
 conclusion of his time, he became very serious ; 
 and acknowledged to Peter du Moulin, the 
 famous French protestant, that he had often 
 been hurried into measures which his con- 
 science disapproved. " I have been urged," 
 said he, " into many irregularities, by what 
 is called state policy; and as I could not tell 
 how to satisfy my conscience for these devi- 
 ations from rectitude, I endeavoured to per- 
 suade myself, that there is no God a nor 
 a future state, that I might quiet the up- 
 braidings of my mind : but my endeavours 
 were in vain. So strong was the idea of God 
 in my soul ; so clear the impression of him 
 upon the frame of the world ; so unanimous 
 the consent of mankind ; and so powerful the 
 convictions of my own conscience; that I 
 could not avoid feelincr the necessity of ad- 
 mitting a Supreme Being, and a future state : 
 and I wished to live as one that must die, and 
 to die as one that must live for ever." 
 
 1/2
 
 US CARDINAL KICHELIEIT. 
 
 The serious state of his mind increased, as 
 he drew near his last hour. A person who 
 came to see him, inquired " why he was so 
 sad:" the cardinal replied; "The soul is a 
 serious thing; it roust either be sad here for 
 a moment, or be sad for ever." 
 
 He died in 1642, amidst storms and perils, 
 before he had completed his designs; leaving 
 behind him a name, splendid indeed, but by 
 no means dear and venerable.
 
 ( m ) 
 
 SECTION XIII. 
 
 LORD HARRINGTON. 
 
 John, lord Harrington, was the son of 
 that lord Harrington, to whom king Jame9 
 the first committed the education of his eldest 
 daughter, the princess Elizabeth. 
 
 He possessed excellent natural endowments, 
 and a considerable stock of useful learning: : 
 hut the great concern of his mind was, to 
 become learned in the school of Christ, and 
 to provide for an immortal inheritance. He 
 manifested a principle of real charity in his 
 heart, by his love to all who were truly reli- 
 gious. And so great was his compassion for 
 his fellow creatures in necessity, that he gave 
 the tenth part of his yearly income to chari- 
 table uses. 
 
 At the beginning of his last sickness, he 
 strongly apprehended that he should not re-
 
 1-50 LORD HARRINGTON. 
 
 cover j and therefore calmly prepared for 
 death. He declared his faith in Christ, and 
 his undoubted hope of salvation by him : and 
 said, with much cheerfulness -, " I fear not death, 
 in what shape soever it may assail me." 
 
 Many excellent things were expressed by 
 him, during his illness. He greatly desired 
 to depart this life, that he might be at home 
 with his Lord and Saviour. About two hours 
 before his death, he declared that, ff he still 
 felt the comfort and joys of assured salvation, 
 by Christ Jesus." And when the time of 
 his departure was come, he said: " O, what 
 joy ! O, my God ! when shall I be with 
 thee ? " And with the like words, expres- 
 sive of a tender, heavenly frame of mind, he 
 peacefully expired, in the twenty third year 
 of his age.
 
 ( 151 ) 
 
 SECTION XIV. 
 
 SALMASIUS. 
 
 SalMasius, of an aricient and noble family 
 in France, was born in the year 1596. He 
 was a man of very extraordinary abilities, 
 and profound erudition. He was knowing in 
 almost every thing ; in school divinity, in law, 
 in philosophy, in criticism ; and he was so 
 consummate a linguist, that there was scarcely 
 a language in which he had not attained a 
 considerable proficiency. He was perfect in 
 Greek and Latin : he understood the Hebrew* 
 Arabic, Persic, Egyptian, Chinese, &c. and 
 he was well acquainted with all the European 
 languages* 
 
 His works are very numerous, and on various 
 subjects. They gained him as much fame as 
 strong powers and vast erudition can procure. 
 
 L4
 
 152 SALMASIUS. 
 
 His name was sounded throughout Europe; 
 and he had great offers from foreign princes, 
 and universities. The Venetians thought his 
 residence among them would be such an 
 honour, that they offered him a prodigious 
 stipend : the university of Oxford made some 
 attempts to get him into England ; and the 
 pope invited him to settle at Rome. Cardinal 
 Richelieu used all possible means to detam 
 him in France, even desiring him to make his 
 own terms; and Christina, queen of Sweden, 
 showed him extraordinary -marks of esteem 
 and regard. 
 
 When this celebrated man arrived at the 
 evening of life, and found leisure to reflect 
 seriously on the great end of his being, he 
 acknowledged that he had too much, and 
 too earnestly, engaged in literary pursuits; 
 and had greatly overlooked those objects in 
 which true and solid happiness consists. 
 "Oh!" said he, "I have lost an immense 
 portion of time; time, that most precious 
 thing in the world ! Had I but one year
 
 SALMASIUS. 153 
 
 more, it should be spent in studying David's 
 psalms, and Paul's epistles." " Oh ! sirs," 
 said he to those about him, " mind the world 
 less, and God more : ' The fear of the Lord, 
 that is wisdom; and to depart from evil, 
 that is understanding.' "
 
 ( 155 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CARDINAL MAZARINE -BCLSTRODE WHITELOCKE ANNA MARIA 
 
 SCHURMAN SIR MATTHEW HALE -DU RENTI -PRINCESS 
 
 ELIZABETH WILLIAM MOMPESSON ADMIRAL PENN. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 CARDINAL MAZARINE. 
 
 Julius Mazarine, a famous cardinal and 
 prime minister of France, was born in the 
 kingdom of Naples, in the year 1602. The 
 greatness of his abilities was conspicuous, even 
 in his early years; and he had the advantage 
 of being instructed by a very able tutor. He 
 studied the interests of the various states in 
 Italy, and of the kingdoms of France and 
 Spain ; and became profoundly skilled in poli- 
 tics. It was through the interest of cardinal 
 Richelieu, that he was introduced into the
 
 156 CARDINAL MA2ARINE, 
 
 French cabinet. That cardinal made him one 
 of the executors of his will % and during the 
 minority of Louis XIV. he had the charge 
 of public affairs. His high station and great 
 abilities, excited the envy of the nobility of 
 France; and this occasioned a civil war that 
 continued several years. Mazarine was, at 
 last, forced to retire ; a price was set on his 
 liead ; and even his fine library was sold. But 
 this disgrace did not long continue. Mazarine 
 returned to the court with more honour than 
 he had ever enjoyed \ and conducted the 
 affairs of the kingdom with so much ability 
 and success, that he obtained the French king's 
 most unreserved confidence. He possessed, in 
 an eminent degree, the power of discovering 
 the disposition and views of men ; and of as* 
 suming a character adapted to circumstances. 
 
 He was a man of great ambition, and pur* 
 sued with ardour the chase of worldly honours. 
 But, a short time before his death, he per- 
 ceived the vanity of this pursuit, and lamented 
 the misapplication of his time and talents. 
 He was greatly affected with the prospect of
 
 CARDINAL MAZARINE, 157 
 
 his dissolution, and the uncertainty of his 
 future condition. This made him cry out, 
 " Oh, my poor soul ! what will become of 
 thee ? Whither wilt thou go ? " 
 
 To the queen dowager of France, who came 
 to visit him in his illness, and who had been 
 his friend at court* he expressed himself in 
 these terms : " Madam, your favours have un- 
 done me. Were 1 to live again, I would be 
 a capuchin, rather than a courtier."
 
 ( 158 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 BUJLSTRODE WHITELOCKE. 
 
 BllLSTRODE WHITELOCKE was descended 
 from a good family in Berkshire, and born 
 in the year 1685. He possessed strong mental 
 powers, which were highly improved by edu- 
 cation, study, and business. He was advanced 
 to several stations of the greatest trust and 
 importance, both at home and abroad, and 
 acquitted himself in them all to the satisfac- 
 tion of his employers. Whilst he was am- 
 bassador at the court of Sweden, he was par- 
 ticularly honoured by queen Christina. 
 
 In the latter part of his life, he withdrew 
 from public affairs, and resided in the country 
 till his death. In his retirement he was visited 
 by a friend, to whom, after making many 
 serious observations, he expressed himself in the 
 following manner : " I have ever thought there 
 has been but one true religion in the world ;
 
 BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE. 159 
 
 and that is, the work of the Spirit of God in 
 the hearts and souls of men. There have been, 
 indeed, many dispensations of God, suited to 
 his own wise ends, and adapted to the low 
 and uncertain state of man in the world. The 
 old world had the Spirit of God, and the new 
 world has the same Spirit. It strives with all; 
 and they who have been led by it, have been 
 the good people in every dispensation of God 
 to mankind. I myself must say, that I have 
 felt it from a child convincing me of my evil 
 and vanity. It has often given me a true 
 measure of this poor world, and some taste of 
 Divine things ; and it is my grief, that I did 
 not earlier apply my soul to it. I can truly 
 say, that, since my retirement from the great- 
 ness and hurries of the world, I have felt some- 
 thing of the work and comfort of it ; and I 
 am persuaded that it is both ready and able 
 to instruct, and lead, and preserve, those who 
 will humbly and sincerely regard it. So that 
 my religion is, the good Spirit of God in my 
 heart ; I mean, what that has wrought in me, 
 and for me."
 
 ( 160 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 ANNA MARIA SCHURMAN. 
 
 Anna Maria Schurman, of a noble pro- 
 testant family in Germany, was born at Cologne, 
 in the year 1607. The powers of her mind 
 were very great, and she employed them in 
 the acquisition of a large stock of literature. 
 She was skilled in many languages > and the 
 Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, were so familiar 
 to her, that she not only wrote, but spoke 
 them fluently, to the surprise of the mo^t 
 learned men. She had also a competent know- 
 ledge of the liberal arts and sciences ; and 
 was held in high reputation, by several per- 
 sons of the greatest learning in her time. 
 
 In the latter part of her life, the religious 
 temper of her mind increasing, she set little 
 value on all the honour she had acquired, by 
 her extraordinary accomplishments ; and be- 
 came zealously concerned to obtain the favour
 
 ANNA MARIA SCIIURMAN. 16 1 
 
 of God, as the richest treasure, and the highest 
 of all enjoyments. After this change of views 
 and sentiments, she wrote an account of her 
 life in Latin ; in which she mentions some re- 
 markable circumstances concerning herself, and 
 several devout persons with whom she was 
 connected. 
 
 During her last illness, she declared her full 
 satisfaction in the religious choice she had 
 made After suffering much from the dis- 
 order, she expressed herself in the following 
 manner : " I have proceeded one step further 
 towards eternity ; and if the Lord shall please 
 to increase my pains, it will be no cause of sor- 
 row. The will of my God is all to me : I fol- 
 low him. How good is it to he in the hands of 
 God ! But it will be still better for me, when 
 I shall enjoy more full communion with him, 
 among the children of God, in the abodes of 
 the blessed. I have nothing more to desire in 
 this world." 
 
 In the last night of her life, she said to one 
 who watched with her: " I am almost con- 
 
 M
 
 162 ANNA MARIA SCHtJRMAN- 
 
 tinually impressed with a sentiment of this 
 nature ; * A Christian must suffer.' This sen- 
 timent comforts me in my pains; and sup- 
 ports me that I faint not. O how good it is 
 to remain in silence and patience before God ! 
 My most beneficent Father has not dealt with 
 me as with his servant Job, whose friends were 
 with him seven days in silence, and then ad- 
 dressed him with bitter words. But how 
 sweet and comfortable are the impressions 
 which X feel!"
 
 ( 163 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 Sir Matthew Hale> lord chief justice of 
 England, was born in Gloucestershire, in the 
 year 1609- Before he was six years old, he 
 lost both his parents : but by the care of a 
 judicious guardian, great attention was paid to 
 his education. When he had completed his 
 studies at Oxford, he quitted the university, 
 with an intention of going into the army: but, 
 on the persuasion of serjeant Glanvill, he en- 
 tered at Lincoln's Inn ; and, with great vigour, 
 and almost unexampled application, bent his 
 mind to the studies of his profession. 
 
 In early life, he was fond of company, and 
 full into many levities and extravagances. But 
 this propensity and conduct were corrected by 
 a circumstance, that made a considerable im- 
 pression on his mind during the rest of his life. 
 Being one day in company with other young 
 
 M2
 
 164 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 men, one of the party, through excess of wine, 
 fell down, apparently dead at their feet. Young 
 Hale was so affected on this occasion, that 
 he immediately retired to another room ; and 
 shutting the door, fell on his knees, and prayed 
 earnestly to God, that his friend might be re- 
 stored to life, and that he himself might be 
 pardoned for having given countenance to so 
 much excess. At the same time, he made a 
 solemn vow, that he Would never again keep 
 company in that manner, nor " drink a health" 
 while he lived. His friend recovered; and Hale 
 religiously observed his vow. After this event, 
 there Was an entire change in his disposition; 
 he forsook all dissipated company, and was- 
 careful to divide his time between the duties 
 of religion, and the studies of his profession. 
 He became remarkable for a grave and exem- 
 plary deportment, great moderation of temper, 
 and a religious tenderness of spirit ; and these 
 virtues appear to have accompanied him through 
 the whole of his life. 
 
 The following extract from a diary which he 
 regularly kept, shows the piety of his mind,
 
 SIR MATTI^EW HALE, 165 
 
 and how solicitous he was to make the best 
 use of his time. 
 
 MORNING. 
 1. " To lift up the heart to God in thankful- 
 ness for renewing my life. 
 
 $. To renew my covenant with God in Christ. 
 First, by renewed acts of faith receiving Christ, 
 and rejoicing in the height of that relation : 
 secondly, by resolving to be one of his people, 
 and doing him allegiance. 
 
 v 3. Adoration and prayer. 
 
 DAY EMPLOYMENT. 
 There must be an employment of two kinds. 
 
 1. Our ordinary calling to serve God in it. 
 It is a service to Christ, though ever so mean. 
 Here observe faithfulness, diligence, cheerful- 
 ness. Not to overcharge myself with more 
 business than I can bear. 
 
 2. Our spiritual employments. Mingle some 
 what of God's immediate service in the day. 
 
 M3
 
 166 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 IF ALONE. 
 
 1. Beware of wandering, vain, sensual thoughts : 
 fly from thyself rather than entertain these. 
 
 2. Let thy solitary thoughts be profitable. 
 View the evidences of thy salvation, the state 
 of thy soul., the coming of Christ, and thy own 
 mortality: this will make thee humble and 
 watchful. 
 
 COMPANY. 
 Do good to them. Use God's name reve- 
 rently. Beware of leaving an ill impression, 
 or ill example. Receive good from them, if 
 they are more knowing. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 Cast up the accounts of the day. If there 
 was aught amiss, beg pardon ; resolve to be 
 more vigilant. If thou hast done well, bless 
 the mercy and grace of God, which have sup- 
 ported thee/' 
 
 Thus did this excellent man occupy himself 
 in the service of God, at the same time that
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 1 67 
 
 he was making great progress in the study f 
 the sciences, and particularly in that of the law, 
 in which he became a greater proficient than 
 any of his cotemporaries.. 
 
 In the duties of his office as a judge, he 
 conducted himself with the greatest integrity. 
 The motives which influenced him to the faith- 
 ful discharge of these duties, were founded on 
 the only firm basis, that of religion. This 
 will appear by an extract from one of his 
 papers, entitled, " Things to be iiad in con- 
 tinual remembrance." Among a numerous 
 list of these, are the following. " That, in 
 the administration of justice, I am intrusted 
 for God, the king, and the country : and there- 
 fore, that it be done uprightly, deliberately, 
 resolutely. That I rest not upon my own 
 direction and strength; but implore and rest 
 upon the direction and strength of God. That, 
 in the execution of justice, I carefully lay aside 
 my own passions, and give not way to them, 
 however provoked. That I be not biassed with 
 compassion to the poor, or favour to the rich, 
 in point of justice. That popular or court 
 
 M 4
 
 168 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 applause, or dislike, have no influence in any 
 thing I do in the distribution of justice. That 
 I be not solicitous about what men think or 
 say, so long as I keep myself exactly accord- 
 ing to the rules of justice." 
 
 The writings of sir Matthew Hale, on reli- 
 gious subjects, particularly his " Contemplations 
 Moral and Divine," manifest a truly humble 
 frame of mind; and contain a seriousness and 
 fervency, well adapted to excite kindred emo- 
 tions in the breast of the reader. We shall 
 select a few of these, as testimonies which this 
 great and good man bore to the power and 
 efficacy of religion, as the guide, support, and 
 comfort of our lives. 
 
 " True religion," says he, " teaches the soul 
 a high veneration for Almighty God ; a sincere 
 and upright walking, as in the presence of the 
 invisible, all-seeing God. It makes a man 
 truly love, honour, and obey him ; and, there- 
 fore, careful to know what his will is. It renders 
 the heart highly thankful to him, as his Creator, 
 Redeemer, and Benefactor. It makes a man
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 169 
 
 entirely depend on him; seek him for guidance, 
 direction, and protection; and submit to his 
 will with patience, and resignation of soul. It 
 gives the law, not only to his words and actions, 
 but to his very thoughts and purposes ; so that 
 he dares not entertain any which are unbe- 
 coming the presence of that God, by whom 
 all our thoughts are legible. It crushes all 
 pride and haughtiness, both in a man's heart 
 and carriage, and gives him a humble state 
 of mind before God and men. It regulates 
 the passions, and brings them into due mo- 
 deration. It gives a man a right estimate of 
 this present world, and sets his heart and hopes 
 above it; so that he never loves it more than 
 it deserves. It makes the wealth, and the glory 
 of this world, high places, and great prefer- 
 ments, but of little consequence to him; so 
 that he is neither covetous, nor ambitious, nor 
 over-solicitous, concerning the advantages of 
 them. It makes him value the love of God 
 and the peace of his own conscience, above all 
 the wealth and honour in the world, and to 
 be very diligent in preserving them. He per- 
 forms all his duties to God with sincerity and
 
 170 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 humility : and, whilst he lives on earth, his 
 conversation, his hope, his treasures, are in 
 heaven ; and he endeavours to walk suitably 
 to such a hope." 
 
 Of the inward direction and assistance of 
 the Spirit of God to the soul, he writes as 
 follows. 
 
 Kt They who truly fear God, have a secret 
 guidance from a higher wisdom than what is 
 barely human, namely, the Spirit of truth and 
 goodness 5 which does really, though secretly, 
 prevent and direct them. Any man that sin- 
 cerely and truly fears Almighty God, and calls 
 and relies upon him for his direction, has it 
 as really as a son has the counsel and direc- 
 tion of his father: and though the voice be 
 not audible, nor discernible by sense, yet it 
 is equally as real as if a man heard a voice, 
 saying, < This is the way, walk in it.' 
 
 " Though this secret direction of Almighty 
 God is principally seen, in matters relating to 
 the good of the soul; yet even in the con-
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 17 1 
 
 cerns of this life, a good man fearing God, 
 and begging his direction, will very often, if 
 not at all times, find it. I can call my own 
 experience to witness, that, even in the tem- 
 poral affairs of my whole life, I have never 
 been disappointed of the best direction, when 
 I have, in humility and sincerity, implored 
 it. 
 
 " The observance of the secret admonition 
 of the Spirit of God in the heart, is an effec- 
 tual means to cleanse and sanctify us; and 
 the more it is attended to, the more it will 
 be conversant with our souls, for our instruc- 
 tion. In the midst of difficulties, it will be 
 our counsellor; in the midst of temptations, 
 it will be our strength, and grace sufficient 
 for us; in the midst of troubles, it will be our 
 light and our comforter. 
 
 " It is impossible for us to enjoy the in- 
 fluence of this good Spirit, till we are deeply 
 sensible of our own emptiness and nothingness, 
 and our mind- are thereby brought down and 
 laid in the dust. The Spirit of Christ is indeed
 
 17* SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 a humbling spirit; the more we have of it, tho 
 more we shall be humbled: and it is a sign 
 that either we have it not, or that it is yet 
 overpowered by our corruptions, if our heart 
 be still haughty. 
 
 " Attend, therefore, to the secret persua- 
 sions and dissuasions of the Spirit of God, 
 and beware of quenching or grieving it. This 
 wind, that blows where it lists, if shut out or 
 resisted, may never breathe upon us again, 
 but leave us to be hardened in our sins. If 
 observed and* obeyed, it will, on all occasions, 
 be our monitor and director. When we go 
 out, it will lead us; when we sleep, it will 
 keep us ; and when we awake, it will talk 
 with us." 
 
 The following reflections on the vicissitudes 
 of human affairs, and on the benefits to be 
 derived from duly considering them, are highly 
 interesting and instructive. 
 
 " In the course of my life, I have been in 
 as many stations and places as most men. I
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. ]?5- 
 
 have experienced almost continual motion ; and 
 although, of all earthly things, I have most 
 desired rest, and a fixed private station, yet 
 the various changes that I have seen and found, 
 the public employments that, without my seek- 
 ing, and against my inclination, have been put 
 upon me, and many other interventions, as 
 well private as public, have made it literally 
 my experience, that I have here no continuing 
 city. When I had designed for myself a settled 
 mansion in one place, and had fitted it to 
 my convenience and repose, I have been pre- 
 sently constrained, by my necessary employ- 
 ments, to leave it, and repair to another: and 
 when again I thought to find repose there, 
 and had suited it to my convenience, some 
 other necessary occurrences have diverted me 
 from it. And thus, my dwellings have been 
 like so many inns to a traveller, of longer 
 continuance, indeed, but of almost equal in- 
 stability. 
 
 " This unsettledness of station, though trouble- 
 some, has given me a good and practical moral: 
 namely, that I must not expect my rest in
 
 174 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 this lower world; but must consider it as the 
 place of my journey and pilgrimage, and look 
 further for complete happiness. And truly, 
 when I reflect, that it has been the wisdom 
 of Almighty God, to exercise, with this kind 
 of discipline, those worthies whom he has ex- 
 hibited as patterns to the rest of mankind, I 
 have no reason to complain of it as a diffi- 
 culty or an inconvenience: but to be thankful 
 to him for it, as an instruction and document, 
 to put me in remembrance of a better home, 
 and to incite me to make a due provision for 
 it; even that everlasting rest which he has 
 provided for them that love him. It is his 
 gracious design, by pouring me thus from 
 vessel to vessel, to keep me from fixing my- 
 self too much upon this world below. 
 
 " But the truth is, did we consider this life 
 as becomes us, even as wise men, we might 
 easily find, without the help of such discipline, 
 that the world below neither was intended for, 
 nor indeed can be, a place of rest: but that 
 it is only a laboratory to fit and prepare the 
 souls of the children of men, for a bettor and
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 1 15 
 
 more abiding state; a school, to exercise and 
 train us up in habits of patience and obedience, 
 till we are fitted for another station; a little 
 narrow nursery, wherein we may be dressed 
 and pruned, till we are fit to be transplanted 
 into paradise. 
 
 " The shortness of our lives, and the con- 
 tinual troubles, sicknesses, and calamities, that 
 attend them; and the instances of mortality 
 of all ages, sexes, and conditions of mankind; 
 are sufficient to convince reasonable men, who 
 have the seriousness and patience to consider 
 and observe, that we have no abiding city 
 here. And on the other side, if we will but 
 give ourselves leisure to consider the great 
 wisdom of Almighty God, who adapts every 
 thing in the world to suitable ends ; the excel- 
 lence of the soul and mind of man ; the great 
 advances and improvements his nature is ca- 
 pable of; the admirable means which the merci- 
 ful and wise God has afforded mankind, by his 
 works of nature and providence, by his word 
 and instruments, to qualify them for a nobler 
 life than this world can yield ; we shall readily
 
 176 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 confess, that there is another state, another 
 city to come, which it becomes every good, 
 and wise, and considerate man, to look after 
 and fit himself for. And yet, if we regard 
 the generality of mankind with dne consider- 
 ation, they will appear to be a company of 
 distempered people. The greater part of them 
 make it their whole business to provide for 
 rest and happiness in this world; they make 
 the acquisition of wealth and honour, and the 
 preferments and pleasures of life, their great, 
 if not their only business and happiness ; and, 
 which is yet a higher degree of frenzy, they 
 esteem this the only wisdom; and think that 
 the careful provision for eternity, is the folly 
 of a few weak, melancholy, fanciful men: 
 whereas it is a truth, and in due time it will 
 evidently appear, that those men only, who 
 are solicitous for the attaining of their ever- 
 lasting rest, are the truly wise men; and shall 
 be acknowledged to be so, by those who now 
 despise them. * We fools accounted his life 
 madness, and his end to be without honour i 
 now is he numbered among the children of 
 God, and his lot is among the saints!'"
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 177 
 
 This eminent and virtuous man possessed 
 uninterrupted health, till near the sixty sixth 
 year of his age. At this period he was affected 
 with an indisposition which, in a short time, 
 greatly impaired his strength: and he found 
 himself so unfit to discharge the duty of Jus- 
 tice of the King's Bench, that he was obliged 
 to resign the office. " He continued, how- 
 ever, (says bishop Burnet,) to retire frequently 
 for his devotions and studies. As lone* as he 
 
 o 
 
 could go himself, he went regularly to his re- 
 tirement : and when his infirmities hie; eased 
 so that he was not able to walk to the place, 
 he made his servants carry him thither in a 
 chair. At last, as the winter came on, he 
 saw with great joy his deliverance approach- 
 ing: for besides his being weary of the world, 
 and his longings for the blessedness of another 
 state, his pains increased so much, that no 
 patience inferior to his eould have borne them, 
 without great uneasiness of mind. Yet he ex- 
 pressed to the last, sucli submission to the 
 will of God, and so equal a temper, that the 
 powerful effects of Christianity were evident, 
 
 N
 
 178 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 in the support which he derived from it, under 
 so heavy a load. 
 
 " He continued to enjoy the free use of his 
 reason and senses to the latest moment of life. 
 This he had often and earnestly prayed for, 
 during his last sickness. When his voice was 
 so sunk that he could not he heard, his friends 
 perceived, by the almost constant lifting up 
 of his eyes and hands, that he was still aspi- 
 ring towards that blessed state, of which he 
 was now to be speedily possessed. He had 
 no struggles, nor seemed to be in any pangs 
 in his last moments. He breathed out his 
 righteous and pious soul in peace."
 
 ( 179 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 DU RENTI. 
 
 Du Renti was a young nobleman of France, 
 not more distinguished by his high birth, than 
 by the excellent talents and qualifications of 
 his mind. This accomplished youth, influ- 
 enced by a strong sense of the vanity of 
 worldly grandeur, and by an ardent desire to 
 enjoy the comfort of a retired and religious 
 life, believed it incumbent upon him to relin- 
 quish all his honours, and to withdraw from 
 scenes, which he feared would insnare and 
 corrupt his heart. 
 
 The following sentiments demonstrate, that 
 his mind was much redeemed from the spirit 
 and enjoyments of this world ; and that he 
 endeavoured, above all things, to obtain a holy 
 and devout temper of heart, and to conduct 
 himself acceptably in the Divine Sight. 
 
 N2
 
 180 DU RENTT. 
 
 " When I gave up my liberty to God, I 
 perceived to what a state of deep humiliation 
 the soul must be brought, to render it ca- 
 pable of union with him, I beheld myself as 
 if encompassed with whatever the world loves 
 and possesses; and, as it were, a hand re- 
 moving all this far from me. The splendour 
 and vain enjoyments of this transitory scene, 
 are great encumbrances to me, in my endea- 
 vours to obtain the favour of God; of which, 
 therefore, his pleasure is that I should be 
 stripped, in order to attain that state of hu- 
 mility and poorness of spirit, which will bring 
 me into possession of real honour and solid 
 riches. 
 
 " I find no security in any state, but in 
 that of dving to the world, and in true self- 
 abasement: this is to be baptized into Christ's 
 death, and to live the life of Christian self- 
 denial. All that can be imagined to befall 
 us in this lower world, is comparatively of 
 small consequence, though it were the losing 
 of all our possessions. Had we but a little 
 faith, and a little love, how happy should we
 
 DU RENTI. 181 
 
 find ourselves, in being willing to resign up 
 every thing; and in saying, My God, and 
 my All!" 
 
 How conformable are these sentiments to the 
 Divine injunctions, " Love not the world, nor 
 the things that are in the world." " But be 
 ye transformed by the renewing of your mind." 
 It is, indeed, a holy and happy state, to be 
 living above the world, and pressing after per- 
 fection, at the same time that we gratefully 
 acknowledge Divine Goodness, in providing for 
 our necessities during our passage through life. 
 This supreme love of God, and desire to 
 be united to him, though often cherished 
 by retirement, is not a solitary and inactive 
 principle. It not only purifies and exalts our 
 minds ; but it expands them towards our fellow- 
 creatures, and leads us into acts of universal 
 charity. 
 
 N3
 
 ( 182 ) 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 
 
 Princess Elizabeth of the Rhine, was 
 born in the year 1620. She was the eldest 
 daughter of Frederic V. elector palatine and 
 king of Bohemia, by Anne, daughter of James 
 the first, king of England. This excellent 
 princess possessed only a small territory ; but 
 she governed it with great judgment, and at- 
 tention to the happiness of her subjects. She 
 made it a rule to hear, one day in the week, 
 all such causes as were brought before her. On 
 these occasions, her wisdom, justice, and mode- 
 ration, were very conspicuous. She frequently 
 remitted forfeitures, in cases where the parties 
 were poor, or in any respect worthy of favour. 
 It was remarkable, that she often introduced 
 religious considerations, as motives to persuade 
 the contending parties to harmony and peace. 
 She was greatly beloved and respected by her
 
 PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 183 
 
 subjects ; and also by many persons of learn- 
 ing and virtue not resident in lier dominions : 
 for she patronised men of this character, what- 
 ever might be their country, or their religious 
 profession. 
 
 In the year 1677, the Famous William Penn 
 paid her a visit ; and was treated by her with 
 great respect. The following account of her 
 is taken from his works. 
 
 " The meekness and humility of the princes* 
 appeared to me extraordinary. She did not 
 consider the quality, but the merit, of the 
 people she entertained. Did she hear of a 
 retired man, seeking after the knowledge of a 
 better world, she was sure to set him down 
 in the catalogue of her charity, if he wanted 
 it. I have casually seen, I believe, fifty tokens 
 of her benevolence, sealed and directed to the 
 several poor subjects of her bounty, whose 
 distance prevented them from being person- 
 ally known to her. Thus, though she kept 
 no sumptuous table in her own court, she 
 
 N4
 
 184 PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 
 
 spread the tables of the poor in their soli- 
 tary cells ; breaking bread to virtuous pil- 
 grims, according to their want, and her abi- 
 lity. 
 
 " She was abstemious in her living; and in 
 apparel void of all vain ornaments. I must 
 needs say, that her mind had a noble pros- 
 pect : her eye was to a better and more last- 
 ing inheritance, than can be found below. 
 This made her not over-rate the honours of 
 her station, or the learning of the schools, of 
 which she was an excellent judge. Being 
 once at Hamburgh, a religious person, whom 
 she went to see for religion's sake, remarked 
 to her, that c it was too great an honour 
 for him, that a visitant of her quality, who 
 was allied to so many great kings and princes 
 of this world, should come under his roof:' 
 to whom she humbly replied ; ' If they 
 were religious, as well as great, it would 
 be an honour indeed ; but if you knew what 
 that greatness is, as well as I do, you would 
 value it less.'
 
 PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 185 
 
 <c After a religious meeting which we had 
 in her chamber, she was much affected, and 
 said : ' It is a hand thing to be faithful to 
 what one knows. O, the way is strait ! I 
 am afraid I am not weighty enough in my 
 spirit to walk in it.' 
 
 " She once withdrew, on purpose to give 
 her servants who were religiously disposed, 
 the liberty of discoursing with us, that they 
 might the more freely put what questions of 
 conscience they desired to be satisfied in. 
 Sometimes she suffered both them and the 
 poorest persons of her town, to sit by her 
 in her own chamber, where we had two 
 meetings. I cannot forget her last words, 
 when I took my leave of her : { Let me 
 desire you to remember me, though I live 
 at so great a distance, and you should never 
 see me more. I thank you for this good 
 time. Be assured, that though my condi- 
 tion subjects me to divers temptations, yet 
 my soul has strong desires after the best 
 things.'
 
 186 PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 
 
 " She lived till the age of sixty years ; and 
 then departed at her house in Hervverden, in 
 the year 1680, as much lamented, as she had 
 been beloved, by her people. To her real 
 worth I do, with a religious gratitude, dedi- 
 cate this memorial."
 
 ( 187 ) 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 WILLIAM MOMPESSON. 
 
 William Mompesson was rector of Eyam 
 in Derbyshire, during the time of the plague 
 that nearly depopulated the town in the year 
 1666, the year after that distemper prevailed 
 in London. This benevolent man thought it 
 his duty to continue in the place, notwith- 
 standing the plague was making its ravages 
 around him. He never caught the disorder; 
 and was enabled, during the whole time of 
 the calamity, to perform the functions of the 
 physician, the legislator, and the priest, of his 
 afflicted parish, assisting the sick with his 
 medicines, his advice, and his prayers. Du- 
 ring these pious labours, his wife was taken 
 ill, and died. The following letter, written 
 by him to sir George Saville, patron of the 
 living of Eyam, breathes such a spirit of 
 pure religion and resignation of mind, that
 
 188 WILLIAM MOMPESSON. 
 
 we doubt not it will be acceptable to the 
 reader* 
 
 " Ei/ am, Sept. 1, 1666. 
 
 " Honoured and dear sir, 
 
 " This is the saddest news that ever my 
 pen could write ! The destroying angel having 
 taken up his quarters within my habitation, 
 my dearest wife is gone to her eternal rest, 
 and is invested with a crown of righteousness, 
 having made a happy end. 
 
 " Indeed, had she loved herself as well as 
 me, she had fled from the pit of destruction 
 with her sweet babes, and might have pro- 
 longed her days ; but she was resolved to 
 die a martyr to my interest. My drooping 
 spirits are much refreshed with her joys, which 
 I think are unutterable. 
 
 " Sir, this paper is to bid you a hearty 
 farewell for ever, and to bring you my humble 
 thanks for all your noble favours; and I hope 
 you will believe a dying man. I have as 
 much love as honour for you : and I will
 
 WILLIAM MOMPESSON. 189 
 
 bend my feeble knees to the God of heaven, 
 that yon, my dear lady, and your children, 
 and their children, may be blessed with ex- 
 ternal and eternal happiness ; and that the 
 same blessing may fall upon lady Sunderland 
 and her relations. 
 
 " Dear sir, let your dying chaplain recom- 
 mend this truth to you and your family, that 
 no happiness or solid comfort can be found 
 in this vale of tears, like living a pious life : 
 and pray ever retain this rule ; ' Never do 
 any thing upon which you dare not first ask 
 the blessing of God.' 
 
 " Sir, I have made bold in my will with 
 your name for an executor ; and I hope that 
 you will not take it ill. I have joined two 
 others with you, who will take from you the 
 trouble. Your favourable aspect will, I know, 
 be a great comfort to my distressed orphans. 
 I am not desirous that they may be great, but 
 good : and my next request is, that they may 
 be brought up in the fear and admonition of 
 the Lord.
 
 190 WILLIAM MOMPESSON". 
 
 " Sir, I thank God I am contented to shake 
 hands with all the world ; and have many 
 comfortable assurances that God will accept 
 me upon the account of his Son. I find the 
 goodness of God greater than ever I thought 
 or imagined; and I wish, from my sou), 
 that it were not so much abused and con- 
 temned. 
 
 < { I desire, sir, that you will be pleased to 
 make choice of a humble, pious man, to 
 succeed me in my parsonage : and could I 
 see your face before my departure hence, I 
 would inform you in what manner I think he 
 may live comfortably amongst his people ; 
 which would be some satisfaction to me before 
 I die. 
 
 " Dear sir, I beg your prayers, and desire 
 you to procure the prayers of all about you, 
 that I may not be daunted by the powers of 
 hell, and that I may have dying graces. With 
 tears I beg, that when you are praying for 
 fatherless infants, you would remember my 
 two pretty babes."
 
 WILLIAM MOMPESSOX. 191 
 
 " Pardon the rude style of this paper ; and 
 be pleased to believe that I am, dear sir, 
 
 your most obliged, most affectionate, 
 
 and grateful servant, 
 
 William Mompessox."
 
 ( 192 ) 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 ADMIRAL PENN. 
 
 William Penn, afterwards sir William Perm, 
 knight and admiral of England, was born in 
 the year 1621 ; and descended from an ancient 
 family. At twenty three years of age, he was 
 made rear-admiral of Ireland ; at thirty one, 
 vice-admiral of England ; and at thirty two, 
 general in the first Dutch war. He was a 
 member of parliament in 165 J ; and in 1660 
 was made a commissioner of the admiralty 
 and navy, and governor of the fort and town 
 of Kinsale. In 1664 he was appointed chief 
 commander under the duke of York ; and was 
 in the remarkable engagement which, in that 
 year, happened with the Dutch fleet. He 
 then took leave of the sea; and soon after, 
 finding his bodily infirmities increase, he with- 
 drew to Wanstead in Essex, were he died 
 in 1670.
 
 ADMIRAL PENN. 193 
 
 A short time before his deaths looking oyer 
 the busy scenes in which he had been engaged* 
 he became solemnly impressed with the view; 
 and filled with regret for his want Of sufficient 
 attention to the mercies he had received. The 
 following excellent advice which, at that time, 
 he gave to one of his sons, strongly expresses 
 the religious state of his mind. 
 
 " Son William, I am weary of the world. I 
 would not live over my days again, if I could 
 Command them with a wish : for the snared 
 of life are greater than the fears of death. 
 This troubles me, that I have offended a gra- 
 cious God, who has followed me to this day. 
 O, have a care of sin ; that is the sting both 
 of life and death. Three things I commend to 
 you. First, let nothing in this world tempt 
 you to wrong your conscience j I charge you, 
 do nothing against your conscience : you will 
 then keep peace at home, which will be a 
 feast to you in the day of trouble. Secondly, 
 whatever you design to do, plan it justly, and 
 time it seasonably ; for these give security and 
 despatch. Lastly, be not troubled at dis- 
 
 O
 
 194 ADMIRAL PENN. 
 
 appointments : for if they may be recovered, do 
 it ; if they cannot, trouble is vain. If you could 
 not have avoided them, be content: peace and 
 profit often attend submission to Providence; 
 and afflictions make wise. If you could have 
 avoided them, let not your trouble exceed in- 
 struction for another time. These rules will 
 carry you with firmness and comfort through 
 this inconstant world."
 
 ( 195 ) 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PASCAL VILL1ERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM ROBERT BOYLE 
 
 JOHN LOCKE JOHN JANEWAY EARL OF MARL- 
 BOROUGH. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 PASCAL. 
 
 Jdlaise Pascal was born at Clermont in 
 France, in the year 1623. Nature endowed 
 him with extraordinary powers of mind, which 
 were highly cultivated. He was an eminent 
 philosopher, a profound reasoner, and a sub- 
 lime and elegant writer. We raise his cha- 
 racter still higher, when we say, he was a 
 man of most exemplary piety and virtue. The 
 celebrated Bayle, speaking of this distinguished 
 person, says : " A hundred volumes of religious 
 discourses, are not of so much avail to con- 
 found the impious, as a simple account of 
 the life of Pascal. His humility and his devo- 
 
 02
 
 196 PASCAL, 
 
 tion mortify the libertines more than if they 
 were attacked by a dozen missionaries. They 
 can no longer assert, that piety is confined to 
 men of little minds, when they behold the 
 highest degree of it, in a geometrician of 
 the first rank, the most acute metaphysician, 
 and one of the most penetrating minds that 
 ever existed." 
 
 From his infancy, Pascal gave proofs of a 
 very uncommon capacity. He desired to know 
 the reason of every thing; and when sufficient 
 reasons were not offered, he sought for better : 
 nor would he ever yield his assent, but to such 
 as appeared to him well-grounded. It is a 
 comfortable reflection, that a man of this turn, 
 with a mind so comprehensive and sagacious, 
 entertained the most exalted sentiments of the 
 Christian religion ; and never had the least 
 doubt of its Divine authority. This informa- 
 tion we have from his biographer, who knew 
 him well, and who says, " that by the in- 
 structions and example of his father, great 
 reverence for religion was early impressed upon 
 his mind, and continued with him through
 
 PASCAL. 107 
 
 life ; and that he was always, in a high degree, 
 opposed to the principles of infidelity." 
 
 When he was in the twenty fourth year of 
 his age, he declined mathematical and philo- 
 sophical studies, in which he had so eminently 
 distinguished himself, resolving to spend the 
 remainder of his days in retirement ; and 
 to devote his time and talents wholly to the 
 cause of piety and virtue. Mis work, entitled, 
 " Thoughts upon Religion and other Sub- 
 jects," has been much read and admired. He 
 employed a great part of his time in prayer, and 
 in reading the Holy Scriptures ; and he found 
 the greatest comfort and delight, in these de- 
 vout exercises. He used to say, " that the 
 Sacred Scriptures are not so much adapted to 
 the head, as to the heart of man ; that they 
 are intelligible only to those who have their 
 hearts right ; and that to others they are ob- 
 scure and uninteresting." In his retirement, 
 he was visited by many persons of distinction, 
 who, on account of his great wisdom and 
 piety, wished to consult him respecting reli- 
 gious subjects. His conversation abundantly
 
 198 PASCAL. 
 
 answered their expectations : but he felt a 
 fear to possess his mind, lest, on such occa- 
 sions, he should speak rather to gratify his own 
 vanity than simply to afford information. 
 
 In the following lines, which were written 
 by himself, and found among his papers after 
 his decease, we see a striking picture of the 
 mind of this good man. 
 
 fC I respect poverty, because Jesus Christ 
 respected it : I respect riches, because they 
 furnish the means of relieving the distressed. 
 I do not return evil to those who have done 
 me an injury. I endeavour to be sincere and 
 faithful to all men ; but I have a peculiar 
 tenderness towards those with whom God has 
 caused me to be intimately connected. Whether 
 I am alone, or in company, I consider myself 
 as in the sight of God, who will judge my 
 actions, and to whom I consecrate them all. 
 These are my sentiments : ana I daily bless 
 my Redeemer, who has impressed them upon 
 me ; and who, by the operation of his grace, 
 has taken away the concupiscence, pride, am :
 
 PASCAL. 199 
 
 bition, and misery, to which 1 was naturally 
 subject. I owe my deliverance to his power 
 and goodness, having nothing of myself but 
 imbecility and corruption." 
 
 Pascal, from his youth, was much afflicted 
 with sickness; and he often said that, from the 
 nineteenth year of his age, he had never passed 
 a day free from pain. He submitted to his 
 sufferings without a murmur, and even at times 
 rejoiced in them ; believing that they came 
 from the hand of his most merciful Father, 
 and were designed for the purification and 
 improvement of his soul. During his last ill- 
 ness, his deportment was truly edifying; and 
 his expressions of charity and pious resig- 
 nation, though deeply affecting, were highly 
 consolatory, to his friends. He said to his 
 sister who attended him : " How has it hap- 
 pened that I have never done any thing for 
 the poor, though I have always had a great 
 love for them ?" She observed to him that 
 he had not possessed property sufficient to 
 atford them much assistance. " Then," said 
 he, " I ought to have given them my time 
 
 O 4
 
 200 PASCAL. 
 
 and labour. In this respect I am to blame: 
 and if my physicians speak truly, and God 
 should permit me to recover, I am resolved 
 that the service of the poor shall be the sole 
 employment of my remaining days." 
 
 To some of his friends, who expressed the 
 concern they felt on account of his great and 
 continued afflictions, he said : " I know the 
 dangers of health, and the advantages of sick- 
 ness. When we are ill, we are exempt from 
 many of the passions which disturb us in 
 health ; we are without ambition, without 
 avarice; we are in continual expectation of 
 death. We have nothing to do, but to sub- 
 mit humbly and peacefully." 
 
 The humility and simplicity of heart, for 
 which he was always remarkable, seemed to 
 increase as he approached his end. A person 
 who frequently visited him in his last sick- 
 ness, said of him: " He is a child; he is 
 humble; he submits like a little child." One 
 of his particular friends, who had spent an 
 hour with him, and had been much edified
 
 PASCAL. 201 
 
 by his meek and pious example, thus expressed 
 himself to his sister: " You may, indeed, be 
 comforted. If God should call him hence, 
 you have abundant cause to praise that gra- 
 cious Being for the favours which he has con- 
 ferred upon him. I always very much admired 
 his great qualities: but I never before observed 
 that extraordinary simplicity which I have just 
 now witnessed : it is wonderful in such a mind 
 as he possesses. I most cordially wish that I 
 were in his situation." 
 
 His last words were; " May God never for- 
 sake me!" and he died full of peace and 
 hope. 
 
 With every deduction that can be made, 
 for a few errors arising from peculiar circum- 
 stances, Pascal was undoubtedly one of the 
 greatest ornaments of human nature. Few 
 have rivalled him in talents ; and few have led 
 a life of equal innocence and piety.
 
 ( 202 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 
 
 George Villiers, duke of Buckingham, 
 and a very distinguished person in the reign of 
 Charles the second, was born at Wallingford- 
 house, in the year 1627. He possessed great 
 abilities, which were much improved by edu- 
 cation: but they were shamefully misapplied. 
 " He was," says the earl of Clarendon, " a 
 man of noble presence; he had great liveliness 
 of wit, and a peculiar faculty of turning serious 
 things into ridicule. He had no principles of 
 religion, virtue, or friendship. Pleasure, frolic, 
 and extravagant diversion, were all that he 
 regarded. He had no steadiness nor conduct: 
 he could never fix his thoughts; nor govern 
 his estate, though it was, at one time, the 
 greatest in England. He was bred about the 
 king; and, for many years, had a great ascen- 
 dant over him : but, at length, he drew a 
 lasting disgrace upon himself; and ruined both
 
 VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 203 
 
 body and mind, fortune and reputation. The 
 madness of vice appeared in him, in very emi- 
 nent instances : and, at last, he became con- 
 temptible and poor, sickly, and sunk in all 
 respects ; so that his conversation was as much 
 avoided, as ever it had been courted." 
 
 It appears to have been in this deserted and 
 degraded state, mournfully looking over a life 
 spent in vice and folly, that he wrote the fol- 
 lowing letter to a particular friend, Dr. Barrow, 
 a short time before his decease. 
 
 " DEAR DOCTOR, 
 if I always looked upon you to be a person 
 of true virtue, and know you to have a sound 
 understanding : for however I may have acted 
 in opposition to the principles of religion, or 
 the dictates of reason, I can honestly assure 
 you, I have always had the highest veneration 
 for both. The world and I shake hands; for 
 I dare affirm we are heartily weary of each 
 other. O, what a prodigal have I been of 
 that most valuable of all possessions, time ! I 
 have squandered it away with a profusion un-
 
 204 VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 
 
 paralleled; and now, when the enjoyment of 
 a few days would be worth the world, I cannot 
 flatter myself with the prospect of half a dozen 
 hours. How despicable, my dear friend, is 
 that man who never prays to his God, but 
 in the time of distress ! In what manner can 
 he supplicate that Omnipotent Being, in his 
 afflictions, whom, in the time of his prosperity, 
 he never remembered with reverence ? Do not 
 brand me with infidelity, when I tell you that 
 I am almost ashamed to offer up my petitions 
 at the throne of Grace, or to implore that 
 Divine mercy in the next world, which I have 
 scandalously abused in this. Shall ingratitude 
 to man be looked upon as the blackest of 
 crimes, and not ingratitude to God ? Shall 
 an insult offered to the king be looked upon 
 in the most offensive light, and yet no notice 
 taken when the King of kings is treated with 
 indignity and disrespect ? 
 
 " The companions of my former libertinism 
 would scarcely believe their eyes, were you to 
 show them this epistle. They would laugh at 
 me as, a dreaming enthusiast, or pity me as
 
 VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 205 
 
 a timorous wretch, who was shocked at the 
 appearance of futurity: but whoever laughs at 
 me for being right, or pities me for being 
 sensible of my errors, is more entitled to my 
 compassion, than resentment. A future state 
 may well enough strike terror into any man, 
 who has not acted well in this life; and he 
 must have an uncommon share of courage 
 indeed, who does not shrink at the presence 
 of God. The apprehensions of death will soon 
 bring the most profligate to a proper use of 
 his understanding. To what a situation am 
 I now reduced ! Is this odious little hut a 
 suitable lodging for a prince ? Is this anxiety 
 of mind becoming the character of a Christian? 
 From my rank, I might have expected afflu- 
 ence to wait upon my life; from religion and 
 understanding, peace to smile upon my end : 
 instead of which I am afflicted with poverty, 
 and haunted with remorse ; despised by my 
 country, and, I fear, forsaken by my God !" 
 
 " There is nothing so dangerous as extraor- 
 dinary abilities. [ cannot be accused of vanity 
 .now, by being sensible that I was once pos-
 
 206 VJLLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 
 
 sessed of uncommon qualifications, especially 
 as I sincerely regret that I ever had them. 
 My rank in life made these accomplishments 
 still more conspicuous; and fascinated by the 
 general applause which they procured, I never 
 considered the proper means by which they 
 should be displayed. Hence, to procure a 
 smile from a blockhead whom I despised, I 
 have frequently treated the virtuous with dis- 
 respect; and sported with the holy name of 
 Heaven, to obtain a laugh from a parcel of 
 fools, who were entitled to nothing but con- 
 tempt. Your men of wit generally look upon 
 themselves as discharged from the duties of 
 religion, and confine the doctrines of the Gospel 
 to people of meaner understandings. It is a 
 sort of derogation, in their opinion, to comply 
 with the rules of Christianity ; and they reckon 
 that man possessed of a narrow genius, who 
 studies to be good. What a pity that the 
 holy writings are not made the criterion of 
 true judgment! or that any person should 
 pass for a gentleman in this world, but he 
 that appears solicitous about his happiness in 
 the next!
 
 VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 207 
 
 * I am forsaken by all my acquaintance; 
 utterly neglected by the friends of my bosom, 
 and the dependents on my bounty : but no 
 matter ! I am not fit to converse with the 
 former, and have no ability to serve the latter. 
 Let me not, however, be wholly cast off by 
 the good. Favour me with a visit as soon 
 as possible. Writing to you gives me some 
 ease, especially on a subject I could talk of 
 for ever. I am of opinion this is the last visit 
 I shall ever solicit from you : my distemper 
 is powerful. Come and pray for the depart- 
 ing spirit of the poor unhappy 
 
 Buckingham !"
 
 ( 208 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 ROBERT BOYLE. 
 
 The honourable Robert Boyle, ari eminent 
 philosopher, and a truly good man, was the 
 son of Richard, earl of Cork, and was born 
 at Lismore, in Ireland, in the year 1627. At 
 Eton school, where he was educated, he soon 
 discovered a force of understanding, which pro- 
 mised great things ; and a disposition to im- 
 prove it to the utmost. During his education, 
 and before he was ten years old, he was much 
 afflicted with an ague, which considerably de- 
 pressed his spirits: and, to divert his attention* 
 he was persuaded to read Amadis de Gaul, 
 and other romantic books. But this kind of 
 reading, he says in his memoirs, produced 
 such restlessness in him, that he was obliged 
 to apply himself to mathematical studies, in 
 order to fix and settle the volatility of his 
 fancy.
 
 ROBERT BOYLE. 209 
 
 He was a man of great learning; and his 
 stock of knowledge was immense. The cele- 
 brated Dr. Boerhaave has passed the following 
 eulogium upon him. " Boyle was the ornament 
 of his age and country. Which of his writings 
 shall I commend? All of them. To him we 
 owe the secrets of fire, air, water, animals, 
 vegetables, fossils: so that from his works 
 may be deduced the whole system of natural 
 knowledge." 
 
 He was treated with particular kindness 
 and respect by king Charles the second, as 
 well as by the two great ministers, South- 
 ampton and Clarendon. By the latter, he 
 was solicited to enter into orders : for his dis- 
 tinguished learning, and unblemished reputa- 
 tion, induced lord Clarendon to think, that 
 so very respectable a personage would do 
 great honour to the clergy. Boyle considered 
 the proposal with due attention. He reflect- 
 ed, that, in his present situation of life, what- 
 ever he wrote, with respect to religion, would 
 have greater weight, as coming from a lay- 
 man : for he well knew, that the irreligious 
 
 P
 
 210 ROBERT BOYLE, 
 
 fortified themselves against all that the clergy 
 could offer, by supposing and saying, that 
 it was their trade, and that they were paid 
 for it. He considered likewise, that, in point 
 of fortune and character, he needed no ac- 
 cessions : and, indeed, his desire for these 
 was always very limited. But bishop Bur- 
 net, to whom Boyle had communicated me- 
 morandums concerning his life, tells us, that 
 what had the greatest weight, in determining 
 his judgment, was, " the not feeling within 
 himself any motion or tendency of mind, 
 which he could safely esteem a call from 
 the Holy Spirit : and therefore he did not 
 venture to take holy orders, lest he should 
 be found to have lied unto it." 
 
 Bishop Burnet, who was Boyle's particular 
 friend, and who, during an intimacy of twenty 
 nine years, had spent many happy hours 
 in conversation with him, gives a full ac- 
 count of his genuine piety and virtue, and 
 of his zeal for the Christian religion. " This 
 zeal," he says,' " was unmixed with nar- 
 row notions, or a bigoted heat in favour
 
 ROBERT BOYLE. 211 
 
 of a particular sect : it was that spirit 
 which is the ornament of a true Christian." 
 Burnet mentions, as a proof of this, his 
 noble foundation for lectures in defence of 
 the Gospel, against infidels of all sorts; the 
 effects of which have been very conspicuous, 
 in the many volumes of excellent discourses, 
 which have been published in consequence 
 of that laudable and pious design. 
 
 He was at the charge of the translation and 
 impression of the New Testament into the 
 Malayan tongue : and he had it dispersed 
 in the East Indies. He gave a great re- 
 ward to the person who translated into Ara- 
 bic, Grotius's incomparable book, on the 
 truth of the Christian religion ; and had a 
 whole edition printed at his own expense, 
 which he took care to have spread in all 
 the countries where that language was under- 
 stood. By munificent donations, and by his 
 patronage, he also very materially promoted 
 the plans of other persons, for propagating 
 the Christian religion, in remote parts of 
 the world. In other respects, his charities 
 
 P<2
 
 &1 ROBERT BOYLE. 
 
 were so extensive, that they amounted to 
 more than a thousand pounds sterling every 
 year. 
 
 The great object of his philosophical pur- 
 suits, was, to promote the cause of religion,, 
 and to discountenance atheism and infidelity. 
 His intimate friend, bishop Burnet, makes 
 the following observations on this point: "It 
 appeared to those who conversed with him 
 on his inquiries into nature, that his main 
 design, (on which as he had his own eye 
 constantly fixed, so he took care to put 
 others often in mind of it,) was to raise in 
 himself and others, more exalted sentiments 
 of the greatness and glory, the wisdom and 
 goodness of God. This design was so deeply 
 impressed on his mind, that he concludes 
 the article of his will, which relates to the 
 Royal Society, in these words: 'I wish them 
 a happy success, in their attempts to discover 
 the true nature of the works of God; and 
 I pray that they, and all other searchers 
 into physical truths, may cordially refer their 
 attainments, to the glory of the great Author
 
 ROBERT BOYLE. 213 
 
 of nature, and to the comfort of man- 
 kind.' " 
 
 On another occasion, the same person 
 speaks of him thus : " He had the most 
 profound veneration for the great God of 
 heaven and earth, that I ever observed in 
 any man. The very name of God was 
 never mentioned by him, without a pause 
 and observable stop in his discourse." So 
 brightly did the example of this great and 
 good man shine, through his whole course, 
 that bishop Burnet, on reviewing it, in a 
 moment of pious exultation, thus expressed 
 himself: " I might challenge the whole tribe 
 of libertines, to come and view the useful- 
 ness, as well as the excellence, of the 
 Christian religion, in a life that was entirely 
 dedicated to it." 

 
 ( 214 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 JOHN LOCKE. 
 
 John Locke a very celebrated philoso- 
 pher, and one of the greatest men that 
 England ever produced, was born in the 
 year 1632. He was well educated ; and, 
 applying himself with vigour to his studies, 
 his mind became enlarged, and stored with 
 much useful knowledge. He went abroad as 
 secretary to the English ambassador at se- 
 veral of the German courts ; and afterwards 
 had the offer of being made envoy at the 
 court of the emperor, or of any other that 
 he chose : but he declined the proposal, on 
 account of the infirm state of his health. 
 He was a commissioner of trade and planta- 
 tions, in which station he very honourably 
 distinguished himself. Notwithstanding his 
 public employments, he found leisure to 
 write much for the benefit of mankind. 
 His " Essay on Human Understanding," his
 
 JOHN LOCKE. 215 
 
 * Discourses on Government," and his " Let- 
 ters on Toleration," are justly held in the 
 highest esteem. 
 
 This enlightened man and profound rea- 
 soner, was most firmly attached to the 
 Christian religion. His zeal to promote it 
 appeared, first, in his middle age, by publish- 
 in^- a discourse to demonstrate the reasonable- 
 ness of believing Jesus to be the promised Mes- 
 siah ; and, afterwards, in the latter part of his 
 life, by a very judicious Commentary on several 
 of the Epistles of the Apostle Paul. The sa- 
 cred Scriptures are every where mentioned 
 by him with the greatest reverence ; and he 
 exhorts Christians, " to betake themselves in 
 earnest to the study of the way to salva- 
 tion, in those holy writings, wherein God 
 has revealed it from heaven, and proposed 
 it to the world; seeking our religion where 
 we are sure it is in truth to be found, 
 comparing spiritual things with spiritual." 
 
 In a letter, written the year before his 
 death, to a person who asked this cpiebtion, 
 
 Pi
 
 216 JOHN LOCKE. 
 
 " What is the shortest and surest way for 
 a young man to attain the true knowledge 
 of the Christian Religion ?" he says : " Let 
 him study the Holy Scriptures, especially the 
 New Testament. Therein are contained the 
 words of eternal life. It has God for its 
 author j salvation for its end; and truth, 
 without any mixture of error, for its mat- 
 ter." This advice was conformable to his 
 own practice. " For fourteen or fifteen years, 
 he applied himself in an especial manner to 
 the study of the Scriptures ; and employed 
 the last years of his life hardly in any thing 
 else. He was never weary of admiring the 
 great views of that sacred book, and the just 
 relation of all its parts : he every day made 
 discoveries in it, that gave him fresh cause 
 of admiration." 
 
 The consolation which he derived from Di- 
 vine revelation, is forcibly expressed in these 
 words: " I gratefully receive and rejoice in the 
 light of revelation, which has set me at rest 
 in many things, the manner whereof my poor 
 reason can by no means make out to me."
 
 JOHN LOCKE. 217 
 
 After he had diligently employed a great 
 part of his life in a variety of occupations, 
 he chose a pleasing retirement for the re- 
 mainder of his days. This leisure appears to 
 have been productive of solid improvement, 
 by enabling him to look calmly over the 
 scenes of past life; to form a proper esti- 
 mate of its enjoyments j and to dedicate 
 himself more fully to the cause of piety and 
 virtue. 
 
 The summer before his death, he began 
 to be very sensible of his approaching disso- 
 lution. He often spoke of it, and always 
 with great composure. A short time before 
 his decease, he declared to a friend, that 
 *' he was in the sentiments of perfect charity 
 towards all men; and of a sincere union 
 with the church of Christ, under whatever 
 name distinguished." 
 
 The day before his death, lady Mash am 
 being alone with him, and sitting by his 
 bed-side, he exhorted her to regard this
 
 218 JOHN LOCKE. 
 
 world only as a state of preparation for a 
 better : adding, that <J he had lived long 
 enough, and thanked God for having passed 
 his days so comfortably ; but that this life 
 appeared to him mere vanity." His mean- 
 ing, in this last expression, doubtless was, 
 that the duration and enjoyments of this 
 life, are as nothing, compared with the 
 endless ages, and the supreme felicity, of 
 the life which is to come. 
 
 The same day, he particularly advised all 
 about him to read the Scriptures; and desired 
 to be remembered by them at evening pray- 
 ers. Being told that, if he chose it, the 
 whole family should be with him in his cham- 
 ber, he said he should be very glad to have 
 it so, if it would not give too much trouble: 
 and an occasion offering to speak of the 
 goodness of God, he especially exalted the 
 care which God showed to man in justifying 
 him by faith in Jesus Christ; and, in par- 
 ticular, returned God thanks, for having 
 blessed him with the knowledge of that 
 Divine Saviour.
 
 JOHN LOCKE. 219 
 
 About two months before his death, he 
 wrote a letter to his friend, Anthony Collins, 
 and left this direction upon it: "to be de- 
 livered to him after my decease." It con- 
 cludes with the following remarkable words. 
 
 " May you live long and happy, in the 
 enjoyment of health, freedom, content, and 
 all those blessings which Providence has be- 
 stowed on you, and to which your virtue en- 
 titles you. You loved me living, and will 
 preserve my memory when I am dead. All 
 the use to be made of it, is, that this life is 
 a scene of vanity, which soon passes away, 
 and affords no solid satisfaction, but in the 
 consciousness of doing well, and in the hopes 
 of another life. This is what I can say 
 upon experience; and what you will find to 
 be true, when you come to make up the 
 account. Adieu!" 
 
 The following extract from a letter writ- 
 ten by lady Masham, deserves a place 
 among the testimonies respecting this dis- 
 tinguished and excellent man.
 
 220 JOHN LOCKE. 
 
 *' You will not, perhaps, dislike to know, 
 that the last scene of Mr. Locke's life, was 
 not less admirable than any thing else con- 
 cerning him. All the faculties of his mind 
 were perfect to the last. His weakness, of 
 which only he died, made such gradual 
 and visible advances, that few people, I think, 
 do so sensibly see death approach them, as 
 he did. During all this time, no one could 
 observe the least alteration in his humour: 
 always cheerful, conversable, civil ; to the last 
 day, thoughtful of all the concerns of his 
 friends, and omitting no fit occasion of giving 
 Christian advice to all about him. In short, 
 his death was, like his life, truly pious j yet 
 natural, easy, and unaffected. Time, I think, 
 can never produce a more eminent example 
 of reason and religion than he was, both 
 living and dying."
 
 ( 221 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 JOHN JANEWAY. 
 
 JOHN JANEWAY was bom in Hertfordshire, 
 in the year 1633. He was remarkable for his 
 piety and love of mankind, for an exemplary 
 conduct through life, and a happy triumphant 
 death. 
 
 Before he was thirteen years of age, he had 
 made a considerable proficiency in the mathe- 
 matics, in the science of astronomy, and in 
 other branches of useful literature. At the 
 age of seventeen, he was chosen to King's 
 College in Cambridge; and when he was about 
 eighteen, it pleased Divine Goodness to open 
 his understanding, and discover to him, that 
 the knowledge of his Creator, and the con- 
 sciousness of an interest in his love, through 
 Jesus Christ, was infinitely superior to every 
 Attainment and possession of this world. At
 
 222 JOHN JANEWAY. 
 
 this time, he became sensible that astronomy 
 surveys but a molehill, in comparison of the 
 great objects which the religion of Jesus con- 
 templates. The complacency and delight which 
 he found in a religious life, were discernible 
 in his very countenance. Though he had a 
 just sense of the value of learning and know- 
 ledge, yet he now " counted every thing but 
 as dross and dung, in comparison of the know- 
 ledge of Christ, and him crucified." From 
 this period of his life to the conclusion of it, 
 he continued to rise above the world, and to 
 labour for purity of heart, and acceptance in 
 the Divine Sight. 
 
 As his own comforts came from the source 
 of all consolation, so he was desirous of lead- 
 ing others to partake of that fountain, and to 
 depend upon it for support: "We poor foolish 
 creatures," said he, on a particular occasion, 
 " scarcely know what is good for ourselves: 
 but it is no small encouragement to the people 
 of God, that wisdom itself is their guard ; and 
 that one who loves them better than they love 
 themselves, cares for them."
 
 JOHN JAXEWAY. 223 
 
 When he fell into a decline, and had but 
 little prospect of life, he was far from being 
 alarmed with the view of his dissolution. " I 
 am ashamed," he said, " to desire and pray 
 for life. Is there any thing here more desirable 
 than the enjoyment of Jesus Christ ? Can I 
 desire any thing below comparable to that 
 blessed vision? O that crown! that rest which 
 remains for the people of God! and, blessed 
 be God, I can say, I know it is mine." 
 
 It was his custom to set apart an hour every 
 day, for secret retirement and solemn medita- 
 tion. On one of these occasions, a friend of 
 his, unknown to him, happened to be in a 
 situation, where he observed all that passed ; 
 and his remarks on the scene before him, are 
 worthy of insertion. " What a spectacle did 
 I behold ! Surely, a man walking with God, 
 conversing intimately with him, and maintain- 
 ing a holy freedom with the great Jehovah. 
 Met nought I saw a spiritual merchant in a 
 heavenly exchange, pursuing a rich trade for 
 the treasures of the other world. O what an 
 animating sight it was ! methinks I see him
 
 524 JOHN JANEWAY. 
 
 still. How lovely was his countenance ! His 
 looks, and smiles, and every motion, spoke 
 him to be upon the confines of glory." 
 
 He was full of love and compassion to the 
 souls of men; and often greatly lamented the 
 barrenness of Christians, in their converse with 
 each other. " O," said he, " what indifference, 
 to spend an hour or two together, and to hear 
 scarcely a word that speaks people's hearts in 
 love with holiness ! Where is our love to God, 
 and our fellow-creatures, all this while ? Where 
 is our sense of the preciousness of time? of the 
 greatness of our account ? Should we talk thus, 
 if we believed we should hear of it again at the 
 day of judgment? Does not this speak aloud 
 that our hearts are devoid of grace; and that 
 we have little sense of spiritual and eternal 
 concerns?" 
 
 To a friend who visited him, and who spoke 
 of the excellency of Christ, and of the glory of 
 the invisible world, he replied : " Ah ! I feel 
 something of it. My heart is as full as it can 
 hold in this lower state."
 
 JOHN JANEWAY. 225 
 
 Though he was, generally, as he approached 
 his end, in a triumphant frame of spirit, yet he 
 experienced, at times, some variations: and in 
 these seasons, he used to say; " Hold out, faith 
 and patience, yet a little while, and your trial 
 will be over." 
 
 Near the close of life, most of his work was 
 praise. Admiring the boundless love of God to 
 him, he said : ' O, why these favours to me, 
 Lord? why to me? Praise is now my work, 
 and I shall be engaged in that sweet employ- 
 ment for ever. O, help me to praise him. I 
 have nothing else to do. I have done with 
 prayer; I have almost done with conversing 
 with mortals. I shall soon behold Christ himself, 
 who died for me, and loved me, and washed 
 me in his blood. I shall shortly be in eternity, 
 sins-ino: the song: of Moses, and the sone; of the 
 Lamb. I shall presently stand upon mount 
 Sion, with an innumerable company of angels, 
 and the spirits of the just made perfect. I 
 shall hear the voice of multitudes, and be one 
 amongst them who say; 'Hallelujah! glory, 
 
 Q
 
 220 JOHN JANEWAY. 
 
 and honour, and power, unto the Lord our 
 
 God!'" 
 
 Thus did this favoured and happy spirit take 
 his leave of the world, and rise triumphant to 
 the regions of bliss and immortality. He died 
 in the twenty fifth year of his age.
 
 ( 227 ) 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 
 
 James, Earl of Marlborough, was killed 
 in a battle at sea, on the coast of Holland, in 
 the year 166J. Not long before his death, he 
 had a presentiment; and wrote to his friend, 
 sir Hugh Pollard, a letter, of which the follow- 
 ing is an extract. 
 
 " I believe the goodness of your nature, and 
 the friendship you have always borne me, will 
 receive with kindness the last office of your 
 friend. I am in health enough of body, and, 
 through the mercy of God in Jesus Christ, well 
 disposed in mind. This I premise, that you 
 may be satisfied that what I write proceeds not 
 from any fantastic terror of mind, but from a 
 sober resolution of what concerns myself, and 
 an earnest desire to do you more good after my 
 death, than my example (God of his mercy
 
 228 EARL OF MARLBOROUGH 
 
 pardon the badness of it!) in my lifetime, may 
 do you harm. 
 
 " I will not speak aught of the vanity of this 
 world: your own age and experience will save 
 that labour. But there is a certain thing called 
 Religion, which is often dressed fantastically, 
 and to purposes bad enough, which yet, by 
 such evil dealing, loses not its being. The 
 great, good God hath not left it without a 
 witness, more or less, sooner or later, in every 
 man's bosom, to direct us in the pursuit of 
 it, and for the avoiding of those inextricable 
 disquisitions and entanglements, with which 
 our own frail reason would perplex us. God, 
 in his infinite mercy, hath given us his holy 
 Word, in which, as there are many things 
 hard to be understood, so there is enough 
 plain and easy, to quiet our minds, and to 
 direct us concerning our future being. X 
 confess to God and you, I have been a great 
 neglecter, and, I fear, despiser of it; God, of 
 his infinite mercy, pardon me the dreadful 
 fault! But when I retired myself from the 
 noise and . deceitful vanity of the world, I
 
 EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 229 
 
 found no true comfort in any other resolution 
 than what I had from thence. I commend, 
 from the bottom of my heart, the same to 
 your, I hope, happy use. 
 
 " Dear Hugh, let us be more generous, 
 than to believe we die as the beasts that 
 perish ; but with a Christian, manly, brave 
 resolution, look to what is eternal. The only 
 great and holy God, Father, Son, and Holy 
 Ghost, direct you to a happy end of your 
 life, and send us a joyful resurrection ! So 
 prays your true friend, 
 
 Marlborough." 
 
 This letter marks the writer's strong sense 
 of the importance of the sacred writings j and 
 his deep regret for having, at any period, 
 treated them with indifference. When our 
 pursuits in life, our companions, or our taste 
 for a particular species of reading, occasion 
 us to contemn or neglect the Holy Scriptures, 
 and the simplicity of the Gospel, it is a sad 
 proof that the mind has begun to be per- 
 verted, and that the way is prepared for great 
 
 U 3
 
 230 EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 
 
 depravity of heart. Whatever, therefore, tends 
 to lessen our esteem for those venerable and 
 highly interesting communications of the Divine 
 Will; or disinclines us. to the perusal and 
 study of them ; should be regarded with early 
 apprehension, and avoided with the utmost 
 solicitude.
 
 ( 231 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL JANE RATCLIFFE SIR ISAAC NEWTON 
 
 BUHOr BURNET JOHN, EARL OF ROCHESTER. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 
 
 Lady Rachel Russel, daughter of the 
 earl of Southampton, was born about the year 
 163G. She appears to have possessed a truly 
 noble mind, a solid understanding, an amiable 
 and a benevolent temper. Her pious resigna- 
 tion, and religious deportment, under the pres- 
 sure of very deep distress, afford a highly 
 instructive example, nnd an eminent in- 
 stance of the Power of Religion to sustain 
 the mind, in the greatest storms and dan- 
 gers, when the waves of aiOictiou threaten to 
 overwhelm it. 
 
 Q4
 
 232 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 
 
 It is well known, that the husband of this 
 lady, William, lord Russel, was beheaded in 
 the reign of Charles the second; that he was 
 a man of great merit ; and that he sustained 
 the execution of his severe sentence, with 
 Christian and invincible fortitude. During the 
 period of her illustrious husband's troubles, 
 she conducted herself with a mixture of the 
 most tender affection, and the most surprising 
 magnanimity. She appeared in court at his 
 trial ; and when the attorney-general told him, 
 " he might employ the hand of one of his 
 servants in waiting, to take notes of the evi- 
 dence for his use," lord Russel answered, that 
 " he asked none, but that of the lady who 
 sat by him." The spectators, at these words, 
 turned their eyes, and beheld the daughter of 
 the virtuous Southampton rising up to assist 
 her lord in this his utmost distress : a thrill of 
 anguish ran through the assembly. After his 
 condemnation, she threw herself at the king's 
 feet ; and pleaded, but alas ! in vain, the merits 
 and loyalty of her father, in order to save her 
 husband.
 
 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 2S3 
 
 When the time of separation came, her con- 
 duct appears to be worthy of the highest admi- 
 ration : for without a sigh or tear, she took 
 her last farewell of her husband, though it 
 might have been expected, as they were so 
 happy in each other, and no wife could pos- 
 sibly surpass her in affection, that the torrent 
 of her distress would have overflowed its banks, 
 and been too mighty for restraint. Lord Russel 
 parted from his lady with a composed silence : 
 and observing how greatly she was supported, 
 said after she was gone ; i( The bitterness of 
 death is now passed :" for he loved and esteemed 
 her beyond expression. He declared, that 
 " she had been a great blessing to him ; and 
 observed, that he should have been miserable, 
 if she had not possessed so great magnanimity 
 of spirit joined to her tenderness, as never to 
 have desired him to do a base thing to save 
 his life." He said, " there was a signal pro- 
 vidence of God, in giving him such a wife, in 
 whom were united noble birth and fortune, 
 great understanding, great religion, and great 
 kindness to himself; but that her behaviou 
 in his extremity, exceeded all."
 
 234 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 
 
 After the death of her lord upon the scaffold, 
 this excellent woman, encompassed with the 
 darkest clouds of affliction, seemed to be ab- 
 sorbed in a religious concern, to behave pro- 
 perly under the afflicting hand of God ; and 
 to fulfil the duties now devolved upon herself 
 alone, in the care, education, disposal, and 
 happiness, of her children ; those living remains 
 of her lord, which had been so dear to him, 
 and which were, for his sake, as well as their 
 own, so dear to herself. 
 
 The following short extracts from a few of 
 her letters, evince the humble and pious frame 
 of her mind ; the great benefit she derived 
 from her afflictions ; and the comfortable 
 hope she entertained of her future rest and 
 felicity. 
 
 You, my friend, who knew us both, 
 
 and how we lived, must allow I have just cause 
 to bewail my loss. I know it is common with 
 others to lose a friend : but few can glory in 
 the happiness of having lived with such a one ; 
 and few, consequently, can lament the like
 
 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 235 
 
 loss. Who but must shrink at such a blow, till, 
 by the mighty aid of the Holy Spirit, they let 
 the gift of God, which he has put into their 
 hearts, interpose ? O ! if I did steadfastly be- 
 lieve, I could not be dejected : for I will not in- 
 jure myself to say, I offer my mind any inferior 
 consolation to supply this loss. No ; I most 
 willingly forsake this world, this vexatious, 
 troublesome world : in which I have no other 
 business, than to rid my soul from sin, and 
 secure my eternal interests ; to bear with pa- 
 tience and courage, my eminent misfortunes, 
 and ever hereafter to be above the smiles and 
 frowns of it ; and, having finished the remnant 
 of the work appointed me on earth, joyfully to 
 wait for the heavenly perfection in God's good 
 time, when, by his infinite mercy, I may be 
 counted worthy to enter into the same place 
 of rest and repose, where he is gone for 
 whom I grieve." 
 
 " The future part of my life will not, 
 
 I expect, pass as perhaps I would choose. 
 Sense has long enough been satisfied ; indeed so 
 long, that I know not how to live by faith : yet
 
 ^36 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 
 
 the pleasant stream, that fed it near fourteen 
 years together, being gone, I have no sort of 
 refreshment, but when I can repair to that 
 living Fountain whence all flows -, while I look 
 not at the things which are seen, but at those 
 which are not seen, expecting that day which 
 will settle and compose all my tumultuous 
 thoughts, in perpetual peace and quiet." 
 
 " The consideration of the other world 
 
 is not only a very great, but, in my small 
 judgment, the only support under the greatest 
 of afflictions that can befall us here. The en- 
 livening heat of those glories, is sufficient to 
 animate and refresh us, in our dark passage 
 through this world : and notwithstanding I am 
 below the meanest of God's servants, and 
 have not, in the least degree, lived answerably 
 to those opportunities I have had ; yet my 
 Mediator is my judge, and he will not despise 
 weak beginnings, though there be more smoke 
 than flame. He will help us in believing ; and, 
 though he suffers us to be cast down, will not 
 cast us off, if we commit our cause to him. 
 1 strive to reflect how large my portion of good
 
 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL* 9Sf 
 
 things lias been : and though they are passed 
 away, no more to return, yet I have a pleasant 
 work to do, to dress up my soul for my desired 
 change, and fit it for the converse of angels, 
 and the spirits of just men made perfect ; 
 among whom, my hope is, my loved lord is 
 one ; and my often repeated prayer to God 
 is, that if I have a reasonable ground for that 
 hope, it may give refreshment to my poor 
 soul." 
 
 " From the enticing delights of the 
 
 world, I can, after this event, be bettor weaned. 
 I was too rich in possessions, while I possessed 
 him. All relish now is gone. I bless God 
 for it ; and pray that I may more and more 
 turn the stream of my afFections upwards, and 
 set my heart upon the ever-satisfying perfec- 
 tions of God; not starting at his darkest pro- 
 vidences, but remembering continually, that 
 either his glory, justice, or power, is advanced 
 by everv one of them, and that mercy is over 
 all his works; as we shall one day, with ravish- 
 ing delight, behold. In the mean time, I en-
 
 238 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 
 
 deavour to suppress all wild imaginations, which 
 a melancholy mind is apt to let in ; and to say, 
 with the man in the Gospel, ' I believe ; help 
 thou my Unbelief.' " 
 
 " It is the grace of God which dis- 
 poses me to ask for, and thirst after, such com- 
 forts as the world cannot give. What com- 
 forts it can give, I am most sure I have felt, 
 and experienced to be uncertain and perishing. 
 Such I will never more, the grace of God 
 assisting, look after: and yet I expect a joy- 
 ful day after some mournful ones ; and though 
 I walk sadly through the valley of death, I will 
 fear no evil, humbling myself under the mighty 
 hand of God, who will save in the day of 
 trouble. He knows my sorrows, and the weak- 
 ness of my person : I commit myself and mine 
 to him. The saddest state to a good soul, will 
 one day end in rest. This is my best com- 
 fort, and a greater we cannot have ; yet the 
 degree is raised, when we consider that we 
 shall not only rest, but live in regions of un- 
 speakable bliss. This should lead us sweetly
 
 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 239 
 
 through the dark passage of the world j and 
 suffer us to start at nothing we either meet 
 with, or our fears suggest may happen to 
 us." 
 
 To lady Essex, she wrote as follows : " I 
 beseech God one clay to speak peace to our 
 afflicted minds, and not to suffer us to be dis- 
 appointed of our great hope. But we must 
 wait for our day of consolation, till this world 
 passes away : an unkind and trustless world 
 this has been to us. Why it has been such, 
 God knows best. All his dispensations serve 
 the end of his providence. They are ever 
 beautiful and must be good, and good to every 
 one of us : and even these dismal ones are so 
 to us, if we can bear evidence to our own 
 souls, that we are better for our afflictions; 
 which is often the case with those who sutler 
 wrongfully. We may reasonably believe our 
 friends have found that rest we yet but hope 
 for : and what better comfort can you or I 
 desire, in this valley of the shadow of death we 
 are walking through ? The rougher our path
 
 240 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 
 
 is, the more delightful and ravishing will be the 
 great change." 
 
 She survived lord Russel above forty years ; 
 and continued his widow to the end of her 
 life. She died in the year 1723, in the eighty 
 seventh year of her age. Her continued hope 
 and trust in HIM, who had been the staff of her 
 life, and her support in affliction, is evidenced 
 by the following declaration, made not long 
 before the end of her days. <f God has not 
 denied me the support of his Holy Spirit, in 
 this my long day of calamity ; but he has 
 enabled me, in some measure, to rejoice in 
 him as my portion for ever. He has provided 
 a, remedy for all our griefs, by his sure promises 
 of another life; where there is no death, nor any 
 pain nor trouble, but fulness of joy, in the 
 presence of Him who made us, and who will 
 love us for ever."
 
 ( 241 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 JANE RATCLIFFE. 
 
 Jane Ratcliffe was born in the year 1638. 
 Her extraordinary faith and piety render her 
 a suitable object for these memoirs. 
 
 In early life she indulged herself in many of 
 the follies and vanities of her time : but being 
 awakened to a sense of their fatal tendency, 
 she renounced them ; and placed her affections 
 on objects which alone can confer solid and 
 durable enjoyment. We shall pass over the 
 intermediate parts of her circumspect life, and 
 come to the closing scene of it ; when she 
 appeared to be much raised above the love of 
 life, and the fears of death. The following is 
 an extract from her own expressions, on that 
 solemn occasion. At the same time that they 
 manifest her desire to be released from the 
 sorrows and ('angers of mortality, there can 
 be no doubt that it was limited by a humble 
 
 R
 
 242 JANE RATCL1FFE. 
 
 submission, and pious resignation, to the wilt 
 of Heaven. 
 
 " I desire to die," said she, " because I want, 
 while I live here, the glorious presence of God, 
 which I love and long for; and the sweet 
 fellowship of angels and saints, who would be 
 as glad to see me with them, as I should be 
 to see them about me ; and who would enter- 
 tain me with unwearied delight. 
 
 " I desire to die because, while I live, I 
 shall want the perfection of my nature, and 
 be as an estranged and banished child from 
 my father's house. 
 
 " I desire to die because I would not live 
 to offend so good a God, and grieve his Holy 
 Spirit. For his loving-kindness is better than 
 life, and he is abundant in mercy to me ; and 
 the fear of displeasing him often lies as a heavy 
 load upon my heart. 
 
 " I desire to die because this world is gene- 
 rally infected with the plague of sin, and I
 
 JANE RATCLIFFE. 243 
 
 myself am tainted with the same disease : so 
 that, while I live here, I shall be in danger 
 of being infected, or of infecting others. And 
 if this world hates me, because I endeavour to 
 follow goodness, how would it rejoice, if my 
 foot should slip ! How woful would my life 
 be to me, if I should give occasion to the 
 world to triumph and blaspheme ! There are 
 in my nature so many defects, errors, and trans- 
 gressions, that I may say with David, s Innu- 
 merable evils have compassed me about ; my 
 iniquities have taken hold on me, so that I 
 am not able to look up.' I therefore desire 
 heaven for holiness, and to the end I may 
 sin no more. 
 
 " I desire to die because nothing in this 
 world can give me solid and durable content- 
 ment. 
 
 " With regard to my children, I am not 
 troubled : for that God who has given them 
 life and breath, and all they have, while I am 
 living, can provide for them when I am dead. 
 My God will be their God, if they be his ; 
 
 R \2
 
 244 JANE RATCLIFFE. 
 
 and if they be not, what comfort would it 
 be for me to live to behold it ? Life would 
 be bitter to me, if I should see them dishonour 
 God, whom I so greatly love. 
 
 " I fear not death because it is but the 
 separation of the soul from the body ; and 
 that is but the shadow of the body of death : 
 Romans vii. 24. Whereas the separation of 
 the soul from God by sin, and of soul and 
 body for sin, is death indeed : Isa. lix. 2. 
 
 " I fear not death because it is an enemy 
 that has been often vanquished; and because 
 I am armed for it ; and the weapons of my 
 warfare are mighty through God, and I am 
 assured of victory. 
 
 <f I do not fear death for the pain of it ; 
 for I am persuaded I have endured as great 
 pain in life, as I shall find in death ; and death 
 will cure me of all sorts of pain. Besides, 
 Christ died a terrible death, to the end any 
 kind of death might be blessed to me. And 
 that God who has greatly loved me in life,
 
 JANE RATCL1FFE. 245 
 
 will not neglect me in death; but will, by his 
 Spirit, succour and strengthen me all the time 
 of the combat." 
 
 For her comfort in her last hours, she put 
 into the following form some memoirs of the 
 principal mercies and blessings she had re- 
 ceived from God. 
 
 " How shall I praise God for my conversion ? 
 for his Word, both in respect of my affection 
 to it, and the wonderful comforts I have had 
 from it? for hearing my prayers? for godly 
 sorrow ? for fellowship with the godly ? for joy 
 in the Holy Spirit? for the desire of death? 
 for contempt of the world ? for private helps 
 and comforts? far giving me some strength 
 against my sins? for preserving me from gross 
 evils, both before and after my calling?" 
 
 In her last sickness, which was of long con- 
 tinuance, she was deeply sensible of the dangers 
 and miseries that attend our progress through, 
 life; and often implored God to remove her 
 into a better world, saying, in the words of 
 
 11 3
 
 246 JANE RATCLIFFE. 
 
 David j " Make haste to help me, O Lord, 
 my salvation ! Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver 
 me! O Lord, make haste to help me !" 
 And she was relieved in the tenderest manner : 
 for her spirit departed from the body, when it 
 was thought she had only fallen asleep.
 
 ( *7 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton, a most celebrated 
 English philosopher and mathematician, and 
 one of the greatest geniuses that ever appeared 
 in the world, was decended from an ancient 
 family in Lincolnshire, where he was born in 
 the year 1G42. His powers of mind were 
 wonderfully comprehensive and penetrating. 
 Fontenelle says of him ; " that, in learning 
 mathematics, he did not study Euclid, who 
 seemed to him too plain and simple, and un- 
 worthy of taking up his time. lie understood 
 him almost before he read him : a cast of his 
 eye on the contents of the theorems of that 
 great mathematician, seemed to be sufficient 
 to make him master of them." Several of his 
 works mark a profundity of thought and re- 
 flection, that lias astonished the most learned 
 men. He was highly esteemed by the univer- 
 sity of Cambridge ; and was twice chosen to 
 
 K 4
 
 248 SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 represent that place in parliament. He was 
 also greatly favoured by queen Anne, and 
 by George the first. The princess of Wales, 
 afterwards queen-consort of England, who had 
 a turn for philosophical inquiries, used fre- 
 quently to propose questions to him. This 
 princess had a great regard for him - 3 and often 
 declared, that she thought herself happy to 
 live at the same time as he did, and to have 
 the pleasure and advantage of his conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 This eminent philosopher was remarkable 
 for being of a very meek disposition, and a 
 great lover of peace. He would rather have 
 chosen to remain in obscurity, than to have 
 the serenity of his days disturbed by those 
 storms and disputes, which genius and learn- 
 ing often draw upon those who are eminent 
 for them. We find him reflecting on the con- 
 troversy respecting his optic lectures, (in which 
 he had been almost unavoidably engaged,^ in 
 the following terms : " I blamed my own im- 
 prudence, for parting with so real a blessing 
 as my quiet, to run after a shadow."
 
 SIR ISAAC NFAVTON. 249 
 
 The amiable quality of modesty stands very 
 conspicuous in the character of this great man's 
 mind and manners. He never spoke, either of 
 himself or others, in such a manner as to give 
 the most malicious censurers the least occasion 
 even to suspect him of vanity. He was candid 
 and affable ; and he did not assume any airs 
 of superiority over those with whom he asso- 
 ciated. He never thought either his merit, 
 or his reputation, sufficient to excuse him 
 from any of the common offices of social 
 life. Though he was firmly attached to the 
 church of England, he was averse to the per- 
 secution of the non-conformists. lie judged 
 of men by their conduct : and the true schis- 
 matics, in his opinion, were the vicious and 
 the wicked. This liberality of sentiment did 
 not spring from the want of religion; for he 
 was thoroughly persuaded of the truth of Re- 
 velation ; and amidst the great variety of books, 
 which he had constantly before him, that 
 which he loved the best, and studied with 
 the greatest application, was the Bible. lie 
 was, indeed, a truly pious man : and his dis- 
 coveries concerning the frame and system of
 
 250 SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 the universe, were applied by him to demon- 
 strate the being of a God, and to illustrate 
 his power and wisdom. He also wrote an 
 excellent discourse, to prove that the remark- 
 able prophecy of Daniel's weeks, was an ex- 
 press prediction of the coming of the Messiah, 
 and that it was fulfilled in Jesus Christ. 
 
 The testimony of the pious and learned 
 Dr. Doddridge to the most interesting part of 
 this great man's character, cannot be omitted on 
 the present occasion. "According to the best 
 information," says he, " whether public or 
 private, I could ever obtain* his firm faith in 
 the Divine Revelation, discovered itself in the 
 most genuine fruits of substantial virtue and 
 piety ; and consequently gives us the justest 
 reason to conclude, that he is now rejoicing 
 in the happy effects of it, infinitely more than 
 in all the applause which his philosophical 
 works have procured him, though they have 
 commanded a fame lasting as the world." 
 
 The disorder of which he died, was supposed 
 to be the stone in the bladder j which was, at
 
 SIR ISAAC NEWTON". 25 1 
 
 times, attended with paroxysms so severe, as 
 to occasion large drops of sweat to run down 
 his face. In these trying circumstances, he 
 was never heard to utter the least complaint, 
 nor to express the least impatience. 
 
 He died in the eighty fifth year of his age. 
 In his principles, and conduct through life, he 
 has left a strong and comfortable evidence, that 
 the highest intellectual powers harmonize with 
 religion and virtue ; and that there is nothing 
 in Christianity but what will abide the scru- 
 tiny of the soundest and most enlarged under- 
 stand in cr. 
 
 "O' 
 
 How great and satisfactory a confirmation 
 is it to the sincere, humble Christian, and what 
 an insurmountable barrier docs it present to the 
 Infidel, to perceive, in the list of Christian 
 believers, the exalted and venerable names 
 of Bacon, Boyle, Locke, Newton, Addison, 
 Lyttelton, and Jones! men who must be ac- 
 knowledged to be ornaments of human nature, 
 when we consider the wide compass of their abi- 
 lities, the great extent of their learning and know-
 
 152 SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 ledge, and the piety, integrity, and beneficence, 
 of their lives. These eminent characters firmly 
 adhered to the belief of Christianity, after the 
 most diligent and exact researches into the life 
 of its Founder, the authenticity of its records, 
 the completion of its prophecies, the sublimity 
 of its doctrines, the purity of its precepts, and 
 the arguments of its adversaries.
 
 ( 853 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. , 
 
 BISHOP BURNET. 
 
 Gilbert Burnet, bishop of Salisbury, was 
 bom at Edinburgh, in the year 1643. He 
 was carefully educated by his father : and 
 having a strong constitution and a prodigious 
 memory, he applied himself closely to study, 
 and acquired a great portion of learning and 
 knowledge, which he seemed to have ready 
 for all occasions. He travelled through France, 
 Italy, and Holland ; where he formed con- 
 nexions with many of the greatest persons of 
 his time, by whom he was much respected 
 for his talents and virtues. At Amsterdam, 
 he became acquainted with the leading men 
 of the different persuasions tolerated in the 
 United States ; Calvinists, Arminians, Lutherans, 
 Anabaptists, Brownists, Papists, and Unitarians; 
 amongst each of which, he used frequently to 
 declare lie met with men of such unfeigned 
 pietv and virtue, that he became strongly
 
 254 BISHOP BURNET. 
 
 fixed in a principle of universal charity, and 
 an invincible abhorrence of all severities on 
 account of religious opinions. 
 
 He was instrumental in promoting the Re- 
 volution ; and lived in great favour with William 
 and Mary, and queen Anne. He distinguished 
 himself in the house of lords, by declaring 
 for moderate measures, with regard to the 
 clergy who scrupled to take the oaths; and 
 for a toleration of the protestant dissenters. 
 He composed many works, which evince his 
 desire to promote the cause of piety and virtue. 
 " The History of his own Time," and " The 
 History of the Reformation," have been much 
 read ; and for the latter, he received the 
 thanks of both houses of parliament. His 
 account of lord Rochester, is an elegant and 
 interesting performance; and a striking dis- 
 play of the truth and excellence of the Christian 
 religion. 
 
 The last five or six years of his life, he 
 became more abstracted from the world ; and 
 he seems to have derived great advantage from
 
 BISHOP BURNET. 255 
 
 the reflections which this leisure produced. 
 The following sentiments, solemnly expressed 
 by him towards the conclusion of his days, 
 are so illustrative of the nature and power of 
 true religion, and of its influence upon his 
 own mind, that they claim a place in these 
 memorials. 
 
 -" I shall conclude with recommending 
 
 to all sorts of men, in the most solemn and 
 serious manner, the study and practice of reli- 
 gion, as that which is the most important of 
 all things, and which is both the light of tlie 
 world, and the salt of the earth. 
 
 " Nothing so opens our faculties, and com- 
 poses and directs the whole man, as an inward 
 sense of God ; of his authority over us ; of the 
 laws he has set us; of his eye ever upon us-, 
 of his hearing our prayers ; assisting our endea- 
 vours ; watching over our concerns ; of his 
 being to judge, and reward or punish us in 
 another state, according to what we have doiu 
 in this. Nothing will give us such a detesta- 
 tion of sin, and such a sense of the goodness
 
 256 BISHOP BURNET. 
 
 of God, and of our obligations to holiness, as 
 a right understanding and firm belief of the 
 Christian Religion. 
 
 " By living according to the rules of religion, 
 a man becomes the wisest, the best, and the 
 happiest creature that he is capable of being. 
 Honest industry, the employing of time well, 
 a constant sobriety, an undefiled purity and 
 chastity, with continued serenity, are the best 
 preservatives too of life and health : so that 
 take a man as an individual, religion is his 
 guard, his perfection, his beauty, and his glory. 
 This will make him a light in the world, 
 shining brightly, and enlightening many round 
 about him. 
 
 " Thus, religion, if truly received and sin- 
 cerely adhered to, would prove the greatest 
 of all blessings to a nation. But, by religion, 
 I understand something more than receiving 
 particular doctrines, though ever so true, or 
 professing them, and engaging to support them, 
 even with zeal and eagerness. What signify* 
 the best doctrines, if men do not live suitably
 
 BISHOP BURNET. 257- 
 
 to them j if they have not a due influence 
 upon their thoughts and their lives ? Men 
 of bad lives, with sound opinions, are self- 
 condemned, and lie under a highly aggravated 
 guilt. 
 
 " By religion, I do not mean an outward 
 compliance with forms and customs, in going 
 to church, to prayers, to sermons, and to sacra- 
 ments, with an external show of devotion j or, 
 which is more, with some inward forced good 
 thoughts, in which many satisfy themselves, 
 while these have no visible effect on their 
 lives, nor any inward force to control and 
 rectify their appetites, passions, and secret de- 
 signs. These customary performances, how 
 good and useful soever when understood and 
 rightly directed, are of iittle value when men 
 rest on them ; and think, because they do them, 
 they have acquitted themselves of their duty, 
 though they still continue proud, covetous, full 
 of deceit, envy, and malice. Even secret pray 
 <ms, the most effectual means, are designed for 
 a higher end; which is, to possess our minds 
 with such a constant and present sen.-e of 
 
 S
 
 258 BISHOP BURNET, 
 
 divine truths, as may make these live in us, 
 and govern us, and draw down such assistance, 
 as to exalt and sanctify our natures. 
 
 " So that, by religion, I mean such a sense 
 of divine truth as enters into a man, and be- 
 comes the spring of a new nature within him ; 
 reforming his thoughts and designs ; purifying 
 his heart; sanctifying and governing his whole 
 deportment, his words as well as hrs actions ; 
 convincing him that it is not enough not to 
 be scandalously vicious, or to be innocent in 
 his conversation, but that he must be entirely, 
 uniformly, and constantly, pure and virtuous, 
 animated with zeal to be still better and better, 
 more eminently good and exemplary. 
 
 " This is true religion, which is the perfec- 
 tion of human nature, and the joy and delight 
 of every one that feels it active and strong 
 within him. It is true, this is not arrived at 
 all at once, and it will have an unhappy alloy, 
 hanging long even about a good man; but, as 
 those iil mixtures are the perpetual grief of 
 his soul, so that it is his chief care to watch
 
 BISHOP BURNET. 259 
 
 over and to mortify them, he will be in a con- 
 tinual progress, still gaining ground upon him- 
 self; and as he attains to a degree of purity, 
 he will find a noble flame of life and joy grow- 
 ing up in him. Of this I write with a greater 
 concern and emotion, because I have felt it 
 to be the true, and, indeed, the only joy which 
 runs through a man's heart and life. It is this 
 which has been, for many years, my greatest 
 support. I rejoice daily in it. I feel from it 
 the earnest of that supreme joy which I want 
 and long for ; and I am sure there is nothing 
 else which can afford any true and complete 
 happiness." 
 
 Ss
 
 ( 26& > 
 
 SECTION V- 
 
 LORD ROCHESTER. 
 
 John WrOTOT, afterwards earl of Roches fer ; 
 was born in 1G47, at Ditchley in Oxfordshire, 
 After his education was completed, he travelled 
 into France and Italy ; and, at his return, de- 
 voted himself to the court, and was in great 
 favour with Charles the second. He had verv 
 early an inclination to intemperance, which he 
 seemed to have totally subdued in his travels : 
 but afterwards falling into dissolute ami vicious 
 company, he gave way to his former propen- 
 sity; and became corrupt in his principles, 
 and depraved in his manners. He lost al! 
 sense of religious restraint ; and, finding it 
 not convenient to admit the authority of laws 
 which he was resolved not to obey, sheltered? 
 his wickedness behind infidelity. 
 
 As he excelled in that noisy and licentious 
 merriment which wine excites, his companions-
 
 LORD ROCHESTER. 261 
 
 eagerly encouraged him in excess, ami he 
 willingly indulged it; till, as he confessed to 
 Dr. Burnet, he was for five years together so 
 much inflamed by frequent ebriety, as in no 
 interval to be master of himself. 
 
 Thus, in a course of drunken gaiety, and 
 gross sensuality, with seasons of study per- 
 haps yet more criminal, with an avowed con- 
 tempt of all decency and order, a total disregard 
 of every moral, and a resolute denial of every 
 religious obligation, he lived worthless and use- 
 less, and blazed out his youth and his health 
 in lavish voluptuousness; tiil, at the age of 
 one and thirty, he had nearly exhausted the 
 fund of life, and had reduced himself to a 
 state of weakness and decay. 
 
 At this time he was led to an acquaintance 
 with Dr. Burnet, to whom he laid open with 
 great freedom the tenour of his opinions, and 
 the course of his life ; and from whom he re- 
 ceived such conviction of the reasonableness 
 of moral duty, and the truth of Christianity, 
 as by the Divine blessing, produced a total 
 
 sa
 
 262 LORD ROCHESTER. 
 
 change both of his manners and opinions. Some 
 philosophers of the present age will probably 
 suppose, that his contrition and conviction 
 were purely the effects of weakness and low 
 spirits, which scarcely suffer a man to con- 
 tinue in his senses, and certainly not to be 
 master of himself: but Dr. Burnet affirms, 
 that he was " under no such decay as either 
 darkened or weakened his understanding; nor 
 was he troubled with the spleen or vapours, or 
 under the power of melancholy." In proof 
 of this assertion, the following letter is pro- 
 duced; in which nothing is omitted but some 
 personal compliments to the doctor. 
 
 ts Woodstock-Park, Oxfordshire. 
 
 " My most honoured Dr. Burnet, 
 
 My spirits and body decay equally to- 
 gether: but weak as I am in person, I shall 
 write you a letter. If God be yet pleased 
 to spare me longer in this world, I hope, by 
 your conversation, to be exalted to such a 
 degree of piety, that the world may see how 
 much I abhor what I so long loved, and how
 
 LORD ROCHESTER. 263 
 
 much I glory m repentance, and in God's 
 service. Bestow your prayers upon me, that 
 God would spare me, if it be his good will, 
 to show a true repentance and amendment 
 of life for the time to come; or else, if the 
 Lord please soon to put an end to my worldly 
 being, that he would mercifully accept of my 
 death-bed repentance ; and perform that pro- 
 mise he has been pleased to make, that at 
 what time soever a sinner doth repent, he 
 would receive him. Put up these prayers, 
 most dear <loctor, to Almighty God, for your 
 most obedient, languishing servant, 
 June 25, 1680. Rochester." 
 
 Soqii after the receipt of this letter, Dr. 
 Burnet visited him. Lord Rochester expressed 
 to him, in strong terms, the sense he had of 
 his past life; his sad apprehension for having 
 so offended his Maker and dishonoured his 
 Redeemer; the horrors he had gone through; 
 the sincerity of his repentance, and the earnest- 
 ness with which h ; s mind was turned to call 
 on God, and on his crucified Saviour, to have 
 mercy upon him. 
 
 S4
 
 264 LORD ROCHESTER. 
 
 Discoursing one day of the manner of his 
 life from his youth, and bitterly upbraiding 
 himself for his manifold transgressions, he ex- 
 claimed, " O blessed God ! can such a horrid 
 creature as I am, who have denied thy being, 
 and contemned thy power, be accepted by 
 thee ? Can there be mercy and pardon for 
 me ! Will God own such a wretch as I am ?" 
 About the middle of his sickness, he said : 
 fC Shall the unspeakable joys of heaven be 
 conferred on me ? O mighty Saviour ! never, 
 but through thy infinite love and satisfac- 
 tion ! O never, but by the purchase of thy 
 blood !" 
 
 From the first of his yielding assent to the 
 truths of the Christian religion, his faith seemed 
 sincere and fervent. He highly reprobated 
 " that foolish and absurd philosophy, propa- 
 gated by the late Hobbes and others, which 
 the world so much admired, and which had 
 undone him, and many persons of the best 
 parts in the nation." His hope of salvation 
 rested solely on the free grace of God, through 
 Jesus Christ. He often prayed that his faith
 
 LORD ROCHESTER. 26$ 
 
 might be strengthened, and cried out : u Lord, 
 I believe, help thou mine unbelief." 
 
 lie expressed great esteem for the Holy 
 Scriptures ; and resolved that if God should 
 spare him, he would frequently read them, and 
 meditate upon them : " for, having spoken to 
 his heart, he acknowledged that all the seem- 
 ing absurdities and contradictions, which men 
 of corrupt and reprobate judgment supposed 
 to be in them, were vanished ; and now that 
 he loved and received the truth, their beauty 
 and excellence appeared." 
 
 lie frequently implored God's Holy Spirit, 
 to comfort and support him, to preserve him 
 from wicked thoughts and suggestions, and 
 from every thing prejudicial to that religious 
 temper of mind with which he was now so 
 happily endued. One night having been much 
 disturbed by evil imaginations, " I thank God," 
 said ho, " I abhor them all. By the power 
 of his grace, which I am sure is sufficient 
 for me, I have overcome them. It is the 
 malice of the devil, because I am rescued
 
 266 LORD ROCHESTER. 
 
 from him, that thus troubles me$ but the 
 goodness of God frees me from all my spi- 
 ritual enemies." 
 
 He often called for his children, and spoke 
 to them with a warmth of feeling that can 
 scarcely be described. " See," said he to 
 Dr. Burnet, how good God has been to 
 me, in giving me so many blessings ! and 
 yet I have been a most ungracious and un- 
 thankful creature !" He expressed much con- 
 cern for the pious education of his children ; 
 and " wished his son might never be a wit, 
 one of those wretched creatures," as he ex- 
 plained it, " who pride themselves in denying 
 the being or the providence cf God, and in 
 ridiculing religion ; but that he might become 
 an honest and a pious man, by which means 
 only he could be the support and blessing of 
 his family." 
 
 He gave a strict charge to the persons in 
 whose custody his papers were, to burn all 
 his obscene and filthy pictures, which were 
 so notoriously scandalous ; and all his profane
 
 LORD ROCHESTER. $67 
 
 and lewd writings, by which he had so highly 
 offended, and shamed, and blasphemed, that 
 holy religion into which he had been bap- 
 tized. 
 
 lie was ready to make restitution, to the 
 utmost of his power, to all persons whom he 
 had injured; and heartily forgave all the 
 wrongs which he had sustained, hoping that 
 he should meet with the like free forgiveness 
 from God, 
 
 lie expressed a tender concern for his 
 servants, and those who attended him ; and 
 earnestly exhorted them to love and fear God. 
 To a gentleman of some character, who came 
 to see him on his death-bed, he said: "O re- 
 member that you contemn God no more. He 
 is an avenging God, and will visit you for 
 your sins; and will, I hope, in mercy, touch 
 your conscience, sooner or later, as he has 
 done mine. You and I have been friends and 
 sinners together a great while, and therefore 
 } am the more free with you. We have been
 
 268 LORD ROCHESTER. 
 
 |1I mistaken in our conceits and opinions; our 
 persuasions have been false and groundless ; 
 therefore God grant you repentance." And 
 seeing the same gentleman the next day, he 
 said : " Perhaps you were disobliged by my 
 plainness with you yesterday. I spoke the 
 words of truth and soberness : " and stri- 
 king his hand upon his breast, he added, " I 
 hope God will touch your heart." 
 
 He was very desirous to testify to the world 
 his repentance for his past misconduct; and 
 to make every reparation in his power for the 
 mischiefs, which, by his example and writings, 
 he had occasioned. He sent messages, which 
 well became a dying penitent, to some of his 
 former friends. He strictly enjoined the pious 
 persons who attended him during his last sick- 
 ness, to publish any thing concerning him that 
 might be a means to reclaim others ; praying 
 to God, that, as his life had done much hurt, 
 so his death might do some good. He caused 
 the following solemn declaration to be drawn 
 up, which he signed with his own hand."
 
 lord Rochester. 26$ 
 
 " For the benefit of all those whom I may 
 have drawn into sin, by my example and en- 
 couragement, I leave to the world this my last 
 declaration, which I deliver in the presence 
 of the GREAT GOD, who knows the secrets of 
 all hearts, and before whom I am preparing 
 to be judged 3 that, from the bottom of my 
 soul, I detest and abhor the whole course of 
 my former wicked life ; that I think I can 
 never sufficiently admire the goodness of God, 
 who has given me a true sense of my per- 
 nicious opinions, and vile practices -, by which 
 I have hitherto lived, without hope, and with- 
 out God in the world ; have been an open 
 enemy to Jesus Christ, doing the utmost despite 
 to the holy Spirit of Grace ; and that the 
 greatest testimony of my charity to such is, 
 to warn them in the name of God, and as 
 they regard the welfare of their immortal soul?, 
 no more to deny his being or his providence, 
 or despise his goodness ; no more to make 
 a mock of sin, or contemn the pure and ex- 
 cellent religion of my ever-blessed Redeemer, 
 through w r hose merits alone, I, one of the
 
 270 LORD ROCHESTER. 
 
 greatest of sinners, do yet hope for mercy and 
 forgiveness. Amen. 
 
 J. Rochester." 
 
 " Declared and signed in the presence of 
 
 Ann Rochester. 
 Robert Parsons.'' 
 
 His sufferings were, at times, very great ; but 
 he did not repine under them. In one of his 
 sharpest fits of pain, looking up to heaven, he 
 said : " God's holy will be done. I bless him 
 for all he does to me." 
 
 He expressed his willingness to live, Or to 
 die, as it should please Divine Providence. 
 " If," said he, <e God should spare me yet a 
 little longer time here, I hope to bring glory 
 to his name, proportionable to the dishonour 
 I have done him, in my whole life past : and 
 particularly, by endeavours to convince others 
 of the danger of their condition, if they con- 
 tinue impenitent ; and by telling them how 
 graciously God has dealt with me,"
 
 LORD ROCHESTER. 271 
 
 Near the close of life, he was often heard to 
 pray fervently. He rejoiced in the comfortable 
 persuasion of acceptance with God. A few 
 days before his decease, he said : " I shall 
 now die. But O, what unspeakable glories do 
 I see ! What joys, beyond thought or ex- 
 pression, am I sensible of ! I am assured of 
 God's mercy to me, through Jesus Christ. 
 O! how I long to die, and to be with my 
 Saviour !" 
 
 Thus died, in the thirty third year of his 
 age, the celebrated earl of Rochester; a memo- 
 rable instance of the goodness and mercy of 
 God, and of the power of his grace, to purify 
 and redeem tbe most corrupt and obdurate 
 offender. From this case, and from many 
 other instances, the truly penitent sinner, 
 though his sins have been as scarlet or as 
 crimson, may derive hope that God will, even 
 in his greatest extremity, hear his prayers, and 
 accept his repentance : but none should pre- 
 sume on the Divine Mercy, by deferring their 
 amendment till they are brought to the bed 
 of sickness and death. They may suddenly
 
 272 LORD ROCHESTER, 
 
 be taken away; they may not have their Under- 
 standing in the time of illness ; they may be 
 deceived with false hopes of recovery ; their 
 pains of body may not admit of that state of 
 mind which is proper for the great work of 
 repentance ; or, they may have become so 
 hardened by the habits of sin, that they may 
 die, as many have died, without a proper sense 
 of their condition; May the goodness and 
 forbearance of God lead to repentance and 
 amendment of life, in the time of health ! We 
 shall then, at the approach of death, have 
 no guilty tumults of mind ; no dismal fore- 
 bodings of the future. We shall bear our 
 affliction with patience and resignation ; and, 
 with joyful hope, commit our spirits into the 
 hands of a faithful and merciful Creator. 
 
 For a further account of lord Rochester, we 
 refer the reader to a small volume published by 
 Dr. Burnet, entitled, "Some passages of the Life 
 and Death of John, earl of Rochester;" " a 
 book," which, as Dr. Johnson says, " the critic 
 ought to read for its elegance, the philosopher 
 for its arguments, and the saint for its piety."
 
 ( 273 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI L 
 
 fcUEEN MARY HERMAN BOERHAAVE JOSEPH ADDISON ANN 
 
 BAYNARD ELIZABETH ROWE DOCTOR WATTS. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 QUEEN MARY. 
 
 Mary, 
 
 queen of Great Britain, and consort 
 of king William the third, was the daughter 
 of James the second, and was born in the year 
 16*61. She appeared to be happily disposed 
 from very early life, being good and gentle 
 before she was capable of knowing that it was 
 her duty to be so. This temper continued 
 with her through the whole progress of her 
 childhood. She might need instruction, but 
 she wanted no persuasion. And it is said, that 
 
 T
 
 274 QUEEN MARY. 
 
 she never once, in the whole course of her 
 education, gave occasion for reproof. Besides 
 a most amiable sweetness of temper, she pos- 
 sessed great understanding, and a mind cul- 
 tivated with useful learning and knowledge. 
 
 She was married in the sixteenth year of 
 her age, to the prince of Orange, and went 
 to reside in Holland j where she conducted 
 herself with so much wisdom and goodness, 
 as to gain universal esteem and affection. But 
 that which was, beyond all comparison, her 
 greatest ornament and possession, was a truly 
 devout and religious temper, which made her 
 look with indifference on the honours and 
 splendour with which she was surrounded ; and 
 seek for her highest enjoyment, in doing good, 
 in peace of mind, and in the hope of a better 
 life. 
 
 In proof of her uncommon merit, we shall 
 here insert a short declaration concerning her, 
 made by her husband, king William, whom 
 she tenderly loved, and who best knew her
 
 QUEEN MARY. 2 15 
 
 excellence, and his own great loss in being 
 deprived of her. To doctor Tenison, who 
 endeavoured to comfort him after her death, 
 he observed ; " I cannot but grieve, since I 
 have lost a wife, who, in seventeen years, never 
 was guilty of an indiscretion. During the 
 whole course of our marriage, I never per- 
 ceived the least fault in her. She possessed 
 a worth that nobody thoroughly knew but 
 myself." 
 
 In the character of lady Russel, we have 
 seen the power and operation of religion on 
 the mind, under some of the darkest clouds of 
 affliction and distress : in the present instance 
 of queen Mary, the virtue and preserving na- 
 ture of the same Divine principle, is evidenced 
 amidst the magnificence of a court, and the 
 sunshine of worldly prosperity. It is, indeed, 
 a principle of universal agency ; adapted to 
 all ranks of men, and to every allotment of 
 Providence : a sure preservative when things 
 are smiling around us, and a sovereign remedy 
 for, or support under, all the calamities of 
 life. 
 
 T 2
 
 276 QUEEN MARY. 
 
 This good queen spent a great part of her- 
 time, in perusing the Holy Scriptures, and 
 other religious books. By a letter to her 
 father, written in early life, in support of the 
 protestant faith, she appears to have been 
 thoroughly grounded and established in the 
 principles of the Reformation. Bishop Burnet 
 says, that " although he had a high opinion 
 of the princess's good understanding, before 
 he saw this letter, yet the letter surprised him, 
 and gave him an astonishing joy, to see so 
 young a person, all on a sudden, without con- 
 sulting any one, able to write in so solid and 
 learned a manner." 
 
 Her talents and abilities were very con- 
 spicuous, in all her concerns, and, particu- 
 larly, in the important charge of government. 
 Doctor Tillotson, archbishop of Canterbury, 
 said, that " he was in great admiration at 
 the proofs he knew the queen gave of 
 her knowledge, in the weighty affairs of 
 stale, in the king's absence, when the ex- 
 ecutive part of the government was in her 
 hands."
 
 QUEEN MARY. 277 
 
 Her compassion and bounty to the poor and 
 afflicted, and those who stood in need of her 
 liberaliiy, were very eminent, and such as cor- 
 responded with her exalted station, and the 
 abundant sources of relief to which she had 
 access. She too\ care to have a just account 
 both of the worthiness, and the necessities, of 
 those who were candidates for her liberality ; 
 and, in the conducting of her charity, showed 
 as much exactness, attention, and diligence, 
 as if she had no cares of a higher nature. 
 But what crowned all, was her exact conform- 
 ity to the rule of the Gospel in her muni- 
 ficence : for none knew to whom, or what, 
 she gave, but those whom she was obliged 
 to employ in the communication of her 
 bounty. 
 
 The piety of this excellent person, as it was 
 a noble support to her, under some kinds of 
 trouble, so it gave the sharper edge to others. 
 The impieties and blasphemies, the open con- 
 tempt of religion, and the scorn of virtue, which 
 she heard of from many persons, and from 
 many different parts of the nation, gave her 
 
 T3
 
 278 QUEEN MARY. 
 
 a secret horror ; and presented her with so 
 gloomy a prospect, as filled her mind with 
 melancholy reflections. She was very sensibly 
 touched, when she heard that some, who pre- 
 tended to much zeal for the crown and the 
 Revolution, seemed thence to think they had 
 a sort of right to be indulged in their licen- 
 tiousness, and irregularities. She often said : 
 " Can a blessing be expected from such 
 hands, or on any thing that must pass through 
 them ? " 
 
 She had a just esteem for all persons whom 
 she thought truly religious and virtuous ; and 
 no other considerations were much regarded 
 by her, when these excellencies were not to 
 be found. Next to open impiety, the want 
 of life in those who pretended to religion, and 
 the deadness and disunion of the protestants 
 in general, very much affected her 3 and she 
 often said, with poignant regret ; " Can such 
 dry bones live ? " 
 
 So far was she from entertaining a high 
 opinion of herself, that she had a tender sense
 
 QUEEN MARY. 279 
 
 of any thing that looked like a miscar- 
 riage under her conduct ; and was afraid lest 
 some mistake of hers might have occasioned 
 it. When difficulties grew too great to be 
 surmounted, and she felt uneasy under them, 
 she made God her refuge; and often said, 
 " that she found herself tranquil, after she had 
 poured forth her soul in prayer." When 
 melancholy events came from the hand of 
 Providence, she said, that " though there 
 was no occasion for complaint or anger, 
 upon these cross occurrences, yet there was 
 just cause of grief, since God's hand was 
 to be seen so particularly in them." 
 
 In her brightest seasons, she did not 
 suffer herself to be lulled into security, 
 nor did she withdraw her dependence upon 
 God. In the pleasures of life, she main- 
 tained a true indifference as to their con- 
 tinuance ; and seemed to think of parting 
 with them, in so easy a manner, as plainly 
 showed how little possession they had of her 
 heart". 
 
 T4
 
 280 QUEEN MARY. 
 
 At one period of her life, she felt such in- 
 disposition of body, as induced her to believe 
 that some great sickness was approaching : 
 but, on this occasion, she possessed great 
 quietude and resignation - 3 and said, " that 
 though she did not pray for death, yet she 
 could neither wish nor pray against it. She 
 left that to God, and referred herself to 
 the disposal of Providence. If she did 
 not wish for death, yet she did not fear 
 it." 
 
 As this was the state of her mind, when she 
 viewed that event at some distance, so she 
 maintained the same composure, on its near 
 approach. The end of this extraordinary queen 
 was, indeed, such as might have been expected, 
 from the pure and exemplary life she had 
 lived. When she was first informed of the 
 danger to be apprehended from her disorder, 
 (which was the small-pox,) she calmly said : 
 " I have been instructed how very hazardous a 
 thing it is, to rely upon a death-bed repent- 
 ance : I am not now to begin the great work
 
 QUEEN MARY. 281 
 
 of preparing for death ; and, I praise God, I 
 am not afraid of it." Under the weight of 
 her disorder, which was very trying to nature, 
 she appeared to feel no inward depression or 
 discouragement of mind. A willingness to 
 die, and an entire resignation to the will of 
 God, accompanied her to the closing scene; 
 in the near approach of which she declared, 
 that " she experienced the joys of a good con- 
 science, and the power of religion giving her 
 supports, which even the last agonies could 
 not shake." Thus died this most excellent 
 princess ; and, no doubt, passed from an 
 earthly to a heavenly crown, " a crown of 
 glory that shall never fade away." 
 
 The contemplation of so peaceful and happy 
 conclusions of life, is sufficient, at times, to 
 elevate the soul, and to make all the glories 
 and enjoyments of this world sink into no- 
 thing. Ah ! these are favoured, precious mo- 
 ments, when the Divine Power of Religion 
 breaks in upon us, dissolves the enchantment 
 of the world, dissipates the mist of vain doubts
 
 282 QUEEN MARY. 
 
 and speculation, and raises a fervent aspi- 
 ration, that whatever may be our allotment 
 through life, we may die the death of the 
 righteous, and the love of God be our portion 
 for ever."
 
 ( 283 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 BOERHAAVE. 
 
 Herman Boerhaave, one of the greatest 
 physicians, and best of men, was born in 
 Holland, in the year 1668. This illustrious 
 person, whose name has spread throughout 
 the world, and who left at his death above 
 two hundred thousand pounds sterling, was, 
 at his first setting out in life, obliged to teach 
 the mathematics to obtain a necessary sup- 
 port. 1 lis abilities, industry, and great merit, 
 soon gained him friends, placed him in easy 
 circumstances, and enabled him to be boun- 
 tiful to others. 
 
 The knowledge and learning of this great 
 man, however uncommon, hold, in his cha- 
 racter, but the second place j his virtue was 
 yet much more uncommon than his literary
 
 284 BOERHAAVE. 
 
 attainments. He was an admirable example 
 of temperance, fortitude, humility, and devo- 
 tion. His piety, and profound sense of his 
 dependence on God, were the basis of all 
 his virtues, and the principle of his whole 
 conduct. He was too sensible of his weak- 
 ness to ascribe any thing to himself, or to con- 
 ceive that he could subdue passion, or with- 
 stand temptation, by his own natural power : 
 he attributed every good thought and every 
 laudable action to the Father of Goodness. 
 Being once asked by a friend, who had often 
 admired his patience under great provocations, 
 whether he had ever been under the influence 
 of anger, and by what means he had so en- 
 tirely suppressed that impetuous and ungovern- 
 able passion ; he answered, with the utmost 
 frankness and sincerity, that he was naturally 
 quick of resentment, but that he had, by daily 
 prayer and meditation, at length attained to 
 this mastery over himself. 
 
 As soon as he rose in the morning, it was, 
 through life, his daily practice, to retire for 
 an hour to private prayer and meditation,
 
 BOERIIAAVE. 2S5 
 
 This, he often told his friends, gave him spirit 
 and vigour in the business of the day; and 
 this lie therefore commended as the best rule 
 of life: for nothing, he knew, can support the 
 soul in all its distresses, but confidence in 
 the Supreme Being ; nor can a steady and 
 rational magnanimity flow from any other 
 source than a consciousness of the Divine 
 Favour. 
 
 He asserted, on all occasions, the Divine 
 Authority of the Holy Scriptures. The ex- 
 cellency of the Christian religion was the fre- 
 quent subject of his conversation. A strict 
 obedience to the doctrine, and a diligent imi- 
 tation of the example, of our blessed Saviour, 
 he often declared to be the foundation of true 
 tranquillity. He was liberal to the distressed, 
 but without ostentation. He often obliged 
 his friends in such a manner, that they knew 
 not, unless by accident, to whom they were 
 indebted. lie was condescending to all, and 
 particularly attentive in his profession. He 
 u^td to say, that the life of a patient, if trilled
 
 286 BOERHAAVE. 
 
 with or neglected, would one day be required 
 at the hand of the physician. He called the 
 poor his best patients : for God, said he, is 
 their paymaster. In conversation, he was 
 cheerful and instructive ; and desirous of pro- 
 moting every valuable end of social intercourse. 
 He never regarded calumny and detraction ; 
 (for Boerhaave himself had enemies;) nor ever 
 thought it necessary to confute them. " They 
 are sparks," said he, " which, if you do not 
 blow them, will go out of themselves. The 
 surest remedy against scandal, is, to live it 
 down by perseverance in well doing ; and 
 by praying to God, that he would cure the 
 distempered minds of those who traduce and 
 injure us." 
 
 About the middle of the year 1737, he 
 felt the first approaches of that fatal dis- 
 order which brought him to the grave. Du- 
 ring this afflictive and lingering illness, his con- 
 stancy and firmness did not forsake him. He 
 neither intermitted the necessary cares of life, 
 nor forgot the proper preparations for death.
 
 BOERHAAVE. 287 
 
 He related to a friend, with great concern, 
 that once his patience so far gave way to ex- 
 tremity of pain, that, after having lain fifteen 
 hours in exquisite tortures, he prayed to God 
 that he might be set free by death. His 
 friend, by way of consolation, answered, that 
 he thought such wishes, when forced by con- 
 tinued and excessive torments, unavoidable in 
 the present state of human nature j that the 
 best men, even Job himself, were not able to 
 refrain from such starts of impatience. This 
 he did not deny ; but said, " He that loves God, 
 ought to think nothing desirable but what is 
 most pleasing to the Supreme Goodness." 
 
 Such were his sentiments, and his con- 
 duct, in this state of weakness and pain. As 
 death approached nearer, he was so far from 
 terror or confusion, that he seemed even less 
 sensible of pain, and more cheerful under his 
 torments. He died, much honoured and la- 
 mented, in the seventieth year of his age. 
 
 In contemplating the character of this ex- 
 cellent man, what strikes us most is, that far
 
 288 BOERIIAAVE. 
 
 from being made impious by philosophy; or 
 vain by knowledge or by virtue, he ascribed 
 all his abilities to the bounty, and all his good- 
 ness to the grace of God. " May his example," 
 says Dr. Johnson, his biographer, " extend its 
 influence to his admirers and followers ! May 
 those who study his writings, imitate his life ; 
 and those who endeavour after his knowledge, 
 aspire likewise to his piety ! "
 
 ( 289 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 JOSEPH ADDISON. 
 
 JOSEPH ADblSON, a celebrated English 
 writer, was born at Milston, in Wiltshire, in 
 the year 1672. About the age of fifteen, he 
 was entered at Queen's-college, Oxford, where, 
 by his fine parts, and great application, he 
 made a surprising proficiency in classical learn- 
 ing. Before he left the university, he was 
 warmly solicited to enter into orders ; and 
 he once resolved to do so : but his great mo- 
 desty, and an uncommonly delicate sense of 
 the importance of the sacred function, made, 
 him afterwards alter his resolution. He was 
 highly respected by many of the greatest, and 
 the most learned, of his cotemporaries. He 
 travelled into Italy, where he made many use- 
 ful observations, and prepared materials for 
 ^ome of his literary works. On his return to 
 England, he was chosen one of the lords com- 
 missioners for trade. In 1?09, he was appointed 
 secretary to the lord lieutenant of Ireland: and 
 
 U
 
 290 JOSEPH ADDISOtf. 
 
 in 1717, was advanced to the high office of 
 secretary of state. 
 
 His writings have been of great use to the 
 world ; and his " Evidences of the Christian 
 religion," not the least so. Dr. Johnson, in 
 delineating his character, as a writer, gives 
 the following amiable picture of him. " He 
 employed wit on the side of virtue and reli- 
 gion. He not only made the proper use of 
 wit himself, but taught it to others ; and, from 
 his time, it has been generally subservient to 
 the cause of reason and truth. He has dis- 
 sipated the prejudice that had long connected 
 cheerfulness with vice, and easiness of manners 
 with laxity of principles. He has restored 
 virtue to its dignity, and taught innocence 
 not to be ashamed. This is an elevation of 
 literary character, above all Greek, above all 
 Roman, fame. As a teacher of wisdom, he- 
 may be confidently followed. His religion has 
 nothing in it enthusiastic or superstitious; he 
 appears neither weakly credulous, nor wan- 
 tonlv sceptical: his morality is neither dan- 
 gerously lax, nor impracticably rigid. All the
 
 JOSEPH ADDISON. 291 
 
 enchantment of fancy, and all the cogency of 
 argument, are employed to recommend to the 
 reader his real interest, the care of pleasing 
 the Author of his being." 
 
 Of his integrity in discharging the duties 
 of his office, there is a striking proof recorded. 
 When he was secretary in Ireland, he had ma- 
 terially promoted the interest of an individual, 
 who offered him, in return, a bank note of 
 three hundred pounds, and a diamond ring of 
 the same value. These he strenuously refused 
 to accept ; and wrote to the person as fol- 
 lows : " And now, sir, believe me, when 1 
 assure you, I never did, nor ever will, on any 
 pretence whatsoever, take more than the stated 
 and customary fees of my office. I might keep 
 the contrary practice concealed from the world, 
 were I capable of it j but I could not from 
 myself: and I hope I shall always fear the 
 reproaches of my own heart, more than those 
 of all mankind." 
 
 A mind conscious of its own uprightness. 
 
 ?dnes 
 
 U2 
 
 and humbly trusting in the goodness of God,
 
 292 JOSEPH ADDISON. 
 
 has the best ground to look forward with comP 
 placency towards another life. The following 
 lines of Addison are sweetly expressive of the 
 peace and pleasure which he enjoyed, in con- 
 templating his future existence. " The pro- 
 spect of a future state is the secret comfort 
 and refreshment of my soul. It is that which 
 makes nature look cheerful about me; it doubles 
 all my pleasures, and supports me under all 
 my afflictions. I can look at disappointments 
 and misfortunes, pain and sickness, death itself, 
 with indifference, so long as I keep in view 
 the pleasures of eternity, and the state of being 
 in which there will be no fears nor apprehen- 
 sions, pains nor sorrows," 
 
 The virtue of this excellent man shone 
 brightest at the point of death. After a long 
 and manly, but vain struggle with his dis- 
 tempers, he dismissed bis physicians, and with 
 them all hopes of life ; but with his hopes of 
 life he dismissed not his concern for the living. 
 He sent for lord Warwick, a youth nearly 
 related to him, and finely accomplished, but 
 irregular in conduct and principle; on whom
 
 JOSEPH ADDISON. 293 
 
 his pious instructions and example had not 
 produced the desired effect. Lord Warwick 
 came : but life now glimmering in the socket, 
 the dying friend was silent. After a decent 
 and proper pause, the youth said ; " Dear sir ! 
 you sent for me: I believe, and hope, you 
 have some commands : I shall hold them most 
 dear." May the reader not only feel the reply, 
 but retain its impression ! Forcibly grasping 
 the youth's hand, Addison softly said : ** See 
 in what peace a Christian can die !" He spoke 
 with difficulty, and soon expired. Through 
 Divine grace, how great is man ! through 
 Divine mercv, how stintless death J 
 
 V*
 
 ( 294 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 ANN BAYNARD. 
 
 Ann Baynard was descended from an 
 ancient and respectable family, and was bom 
 in the year 1672. She possessed strong powers 
 of mind; understood the learned languages; 
 and made considerable acquisitions in the arts 
 and sciences. She took great delight in study, 
 and seemed to know no bounds in the pur- 
 suit of learning and knowledge. But when 
 she formed a serious estimate of things, and 
 compared the highest accomplishments of this 
 life, with the possession of Divine Peace, and 
 the hope of eternal happiness, her extreme 
 love of learning, and of the distinctions that 
 accompany it, abated. She then declared, 
 " that she counted all things but loss, in com- 
 parison of the excellence of the knowledge of 
 Christ Jesus her Lord ; and that human learn- 
 ing is worth but little, unless it serves as 
 a handmaid to the knowledge of Christ re-
 
 ANN BAYNARD. 295 
 
 vealed iii the Gospel, as our only Lord and 
 Saviour." " Wtiat avails," said she, " Solo- 
 mon's skill in tne works of nature, if ny it 
 we are not brought to see the God of nature ? 
 What advantage is it, to be so learned in 
 astronomy, or the knowledge of the heavens, 
 that we can foretel things to come, if we never 
 study, by oiir holy practice, to arrive at the 
 blessed regions ? What advantage is it, to be 
 so skilful in arithmetic, that we can divide and 
 subdivide to the smallest fraction, if, as God 
 has revealed unto us in his holy Word, we 
 do not learn to number our days, and apply 
 our hearts to wisdom ? What advantage is 
 it for a physician to know how to prevent 
 or cure the disease of the body, if he knows 
 not where to find the Balm of Gilead, the 
 wine and oil of the good Samaritan, the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, to pour into the wounds of his 
 own soul ?" 
 
 The mind of this excellent woman was much 
 raised above the vanities of this world, its 
 gaieties and splendour. Having experienced 
 the happiness of a devout and pious life, she 
 
 U4
 
 296 ANN BAYNARD. 
 
 had no relish for pleasures of a different nature. 
 She had a high veneration for the Author of 
 her being, and made it her great business tp 
 promote his honour and glory. She observed, 
 with deep concern, the errors, follies, and vices 
 of the age; and was not only importunate in 
 her intercessions for the good of the world, but 
 solicitous to benefit the souls of those with 
 whom she conversed, by friendly reproof, good 
 counsel, or pious discourse. But the period 
 of her life and labours was of short duration; 
 for she was only twenty five years of age 
 when she died.
 
 ( 297 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 ELIZABETH RQWE. 
 
 Elizabeth Rowe, the daughter of a very 
 respectable dissenting minister, was born at 
 Ilchester in Somersetshire, in the year 1674. 
 She discovered early symptoms of fine parts; 
 and as her strongest bent was to poetry, she 
 began to write verses at twelve years of age. 
 She possessed uncommon elegance of mind, 
 and exquisite sensibility. She also manifested 
 a pious and devout disposition, even when 
 she was very young. It was a peculiar hap- 
 piness to her that, early in life, she enjoyed 
 the friendship of the pious bishop Ken ; at 
 whose request she wrote a paraphrase on the 
 38th chapter of Job. 
 
 Ilcr shining merit, and various accomplish- 
 ments, procured her many admirers : but the 
 person who obtained her in marriage, wa#
 
 298 ELIZABETH ROWE. 
 
 Thomas Rowe, a gentleman of uncommon 
 parts and learning, and of great worth. The 
 connexion proved happy, but was of short 
 duration. The husband of this excellent woman 
 died of a consumption at twenty eight years 
 of age, having lived with his amiable consort 
 scarcely five years. The elegy which she 
 composed upon his death, is one of her best 
 poems. 
 
 After the decease of her husband, the world 
 appeared in her view with less attraction than 
 ever. She retired to her estate at Frome, where 
 she spent the remainder of her days. In this 
 retreat, the religious temper of her mind in- 
 creased; and here she wrote the greater part 
 of her works. Her book entitled, " Devout 
 Exercises of the Heart, in Meditation and 
 Soliloquy, Praise and Prayer," has been much 
 read and commended. This work she sealed 
 up, and directed it to be delivered to Dr. 
 Watts, after her decease ; with a letter to him, 
 in which she gives some account both of the 
 work and of herself. The letter contains so 
 much of a devout and Christian Spirit, that
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE. 299 
 
 we shall insert a part gf it in this collec- 
 tion. 
 
 " The * Reflections' were occasionally writ- 
 ten, and only for my own improvement j 
 but I am not without, hope that they may 
 have the same salutary effect on some pious 
 minds, as reading the experiences of others 
 has had on my own soul. The experimental 
 part of religion has generally a greater influ- 
 ence than the theory of it; and if, when I 
 am sleeping in the dust, those soliloquies should 
 kindle a flame of divine love, even in the heart 
 of the lowest and most despised Christian, be 
 the glory given to the great Spring of all grace 
 and benignity ! 
 
 " I have now done with mortal things, and 
 all to come is vast eternity! Eternity! How 
 transporting is the sound ! As long as God 
 exists, my being and happiness are, I doubt 
 not, secure. These unbounded desires, which 
 the wide creation cannot limit, shall be satis- 
 fied for ever. I shall drink at the fountain- 
 head of pleasure, and be refreshed with the
 
 SOO ELIZABETH ROWE. 
 
 emanations of original life and joy. I shall 
 hear the voice of uncreated harmony, speak- 
 ing peace and ineffable consolation to my 
 soul. 
 
 '< I expect eternal life, not as a reward of 
 merit, but as a pure act of bounty. Detest- 
 ing myself in every view I can take, I fly 
 to the righteousness and atonement of my 
 great Redeemer, for pardon and salvation : 
 this is my only consolation and hope. Enter 
 not into judgment, O Lord, with thy servant ; 
 for in thy sight shall no flesh be justified. 
 Through the blood of the Lamb, I hope for 
 an entire victory over the last enemy ; and 
 that, before this comes to you, I shall have 
 reached the celestial heights ; and, while you 
 are reading these lines, I shall be adoring be- 
 fore the throne of God ; where faith shall be 
 turned into vision, and these languishing de- 
 sires satisfied with the full fruition of immortal 
 love. Amen."
 
 ( 301 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 DOCTOR WATTS. 
 
 Isaac Watts, a learned and eminent dis- 
 senting minister, was born at Southampton in 
 the year 1674, of parents who were distin- 
 guished by their piety and virtue. He pos- 
 sessed uncommon genius, and gave early proofs 
 of it. He received a very liberal education^ 
 which was rendered highly beneficial to him, 
 by his own unwearied efforts to improve him- 
 self. After the most serious deliberation, he 
 determined to devote his life to the ministry; 
 of the importance of which office he had a 
 deep and awful sense. He laboured very dili- 
 gently to promote the instruction and happi- 
 ness of the people under his care : and, by 
 his Christian conduct and amiable disposition, 
 greatly endeared himself to them. 
 
 Soon after he had undertaken the pastoral 
 office, his health sustained a severe shoek, by 
 a painful and dangerous illness; from which
 
 302 fiOCTOR WATTS. 
 
 he recovered very slowly. But in the year 
 )712> he was afflicted with a violent fever, 
 that entirely broke his constitution, and left 
 such weakness upon his nerves as continued 
 with him, in some measure, to the day of 
 his death. For four years, he was wholly 
 prevented from discharging the public offices 
 of his station. Though this long interval of 
 sickness was, no doubt, very trying to his 
 active mind, yet it proved ultimately a bless- 
 ing : for it drew upon him the particular no- 
 tice of sir Thomas Abney, a very pious and 
 worthy man, who, from motives of friendship, 
 invited him into his family; in which he con- 
 tinued to the end of his life; and, for the 
 long space of thirty six years, was treated with 
 uniform kindness, attention, and respect. 
 
 Dr. Johnson's judicious account of Watts, 
 exhibits him, both as a man and a writer, in 
 a very pleasing light. We shall select from 
 it a few striking passages. 
 
 " This excellent man was, by his natural 
 temper, quick of resentment; but, by his
 
 DOCTOR WATTS. 303 
 
 established and habitual practice, he was gentle, 
 modest, and inoffensive. His tenderness ap- 
 peared in his attention to children, and to 
 the poor. To the poor, while he lived in 
 the family of his friend, he allowed the third 
 part of his annual revenue; and for children, 
 he condescended to lay aside the scholar, the 
 philosopher, and the wit, to write little poems 
 of devotion, and systems of instruction, adapted 
 to their wants and capacities, from the dawn 
 of reason through its gradations of advance in 
 the morning of life. Few men have left be- 
 hind them such purity of character, or such 
 monuments of laborious piety. He has pro- 
 vided instruction for all ages, from those who 
 are lisping their first lessons, to the enlightened 
 readers of Malbranche and Locke. His " Im- 
 provement of the Mind" is a work in the 
 highest degree useful and pleasing. What- 
 ever he took in hand, was, by his incessant 
 solicitude for souls, converted to tlieolcv 
 As piety predominated in his mind, it is 
 diffused over his works. Under his direction 
 it may be truly said, that philosophy is sub- 
 servient to evangelical instruction: it is difficult
 
 304 DOCTOR WATTS. 
 
 to read a page without learning* or at least 
 wishing, to be better," 
 
 The virtue of this good man eminently ap- 
 peared, in the happy state of his mind, under 
 great pains and weakness of body, and in the 
 improvement which he derived from them. Of 
 those seasons of affliction, he says, with a truly 
 elevated mind and thankful heart : " I am not 
 afraid to let the world know, that amidst the 
 sinkings of life and nature, Christianity and 
 the Gospel were my support. Amidst all the 
 violence of my distemper, and the tiresome 
 months of it, I thank God, I never lost sight 
 of reason, or religion, though sometimes I had 
 much difficulty to preserve the machine of 
 animal nature in such order, as regularly to 
 exercise either the Man or the Christian." 
 
 The sweet peace of conscience he enjoyed, 
 under these trying circumstances ; and the 
 rational and Christian foundation of his hope 
 and trust in the Divine Goodness; are beau- 
 tifully and justly expressed by him in the 
 following lines.
 
 DOCTOR WATTS. 305 
 
 "Yet, gracious God! amid these storms of nature, 
 Thine eyes behold a sweet and sacred calm 
 Reign through the realms of conscience: all within 
 Lies peaceful, all compos'd. 'Tis wond'rous Grace 
 Keeps off thy terrors from this humble bosom; 
 Though stain'd with sins and follies, yet serene 
 In penitential peace and cheerful hope. 
 Sprinkled and guarded with atoning blood, 
 Thy vital smiles, amidst this desolation, 
 Like heav'nly sun-bearns, hid behind the clouds, 
 Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance 
 Cleaving the gloom; the fair celestial light 
 Softens and gilds the horrors of the storm, 
 And richest cordials to the heart convevs. 
 
 " () glorious solace of immense distress, 
 A conscience and a God ! This is my rock 
 Of firm support, my shield of sure defence 
 Against infernal arrows. Rise, my soul ! 
 Put on thy courage: here's the living spring 
 Of joys divinely sweet and ever new, 
 A peaceful conscience, and a smiling Meav'n. 
 
 \
 
 306 DOCTOR WATTS. 
 
 " My God, permit a creeping worm to say, 
 Thy Spirit knows I love thee! Worthless wretch^ 
 To dare to love a God! Eut grace requires, 
 And grace accepts. Thou seest my lab'ring soul. 
 Weak as my zeal is, yet my zeal is true; 
 It bears the trying furnace. Love divine 
 Constrains me: I am thine. Incarnate Love 
 Has seiz'd, and holds me in almighty arms! 
 Here's my salvation, my eternal hope, 
 Amidst the wreck of worlds and dying nature, 
 I am the Lord's, and he's for ever mine!" 
 
 When his sufferings were, in some degree, 
 alleviated, what excellent effects were pro- 
 duced in his mind ! How was his heart en- 
 larged with love and gratitude to Cod ! and 
 in what pathetic language did he pour out 
 his spirit ! 
 
 " Almighty Pow'r, I love thee ! blissful name, 
 My healer God! and may my inmost heart 
 Love and adore for ever! O 'tis good 
 To wait submissive at thv holv throne,
 
 DOCTOR WATTS. 30? 
 
 To leave petitions at thy feet, and bear 
 Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul. 
 The hand of mercy is not short to save, 
 i Nor is the car of heav'nly pity deaf 
 To mortal cries. IT notic'd all my groans, 
 And sighs, and long complaints, with wise delay. 
 Though painful to the suff'rer; and thy hand 
 In proper moment brought desir'd relief." 
 
 And now, how amiable does he appear, when 
 the shadows of the evening were stretching 
 over him ! Two or three years before his 
 decease, the active and sprightly powers of 
 his nature gradually failed; yet his trust in 
 Cod, through Jesus the Mediator, remained 
 unshaken to the last. He was heard to say: 
 " I bless God I can lie down with comfort 
 at night, not being solicitous whether I awake 
 in this world or another/' And again ; " I 
 should be glad to read more, yet not in order 
 to be further confirmed in the truth of the 
 Christian religion, or in the truth of its pro- 
 mises; for I believe them enough to venture 
 an eternity upon them." 
 
 X 2
 
 508 DOCTOR WATTS. 
 
 When he was almost worn out, and broken* 
 down by his infirmities, he said, in conver- 
 sation with a friend : " I remember an aged 
 minister used to observe, c that the most 
 learned and knowing Christians, when they 
 come to die, have only the same plain pro- 
 mises of the Gospel for their support, as the 
 common and unlearned :' and so-, I find it. 
 It is the plain promises of the Gospel that 
 are my support; and, I bless God, they are 
 plain promises, that do not require much la- 
 bour and pains to understand them." 
 
 At times, when he found his spirit tending 
 to impatience, and ready to complain that 
 he could only lead a mere animal life, he 
 would check himself thus : " The business of 
 a Christian is to bear the will of God, as 
 well as to do it. If I were in health, I ought 
 to be doing it; and now, it is my duty to 
 bear it. The best thing in obedience, is a 
 regard to the will of God ; and the way to 
 that is, to have our inclinations and aversions 
 as much mortified as we can."
 
 DOCTOR WATTS. 309 
 
 With so calm and peaceful a mind, so 
 blessed and lively a hope, did this resigned 
 servant of Christ wait for his master's sum- 
 mons. He quietly expired in the seventy 
 ijifth year of his age. 
 
 X3
 
 ( 311 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 COLONEL CARDINER LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS H. HOUSMAN- 
 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 James Gardiner, a native of Scotland, 
 was born in the year 1688. He received great 
 part of his education, at a school at Linlithgow, 
 where he made a very considerable progress in 
 the languages. His mother, with great ten- 
 derness and solicitude for his future happiness, 
 instructed him in the principles of Christianity. 
 The good effects of her prudent and exempiury 
 care, were not, in the younger part of her son's 
 life, so evident as she desired : but there is great 
 reason to believe that her instructions were 
 
 X 4
 
 312 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 not Jost. They were the occasion of many 
 convictions, which, though for a time over- 
 borne, were afterwards happily remembered 
 and revived. He used to make this observa- 
 tion for the encouragement of parents and 
 pious friends, to do their duty towards young 
 persons, and to hope for the best effects, though 
 they may not immediately appear. 
 
 He was a man of sound understanding, and 
 of a frank, obliging, and generous temper. 
 From the persuasions of a friend, and the ar- 
 dour of his own spirit, he early engaged in 
 a military life. He was often in imminent 
 danger of death, and had several escapes, which 
 may justly be considered as providential: but, 
 in his unconverted state, he never viewed them 
 in that light ; and they made no serious im- 
 pression on his mind. For many years after 
 lie had attained the age of manhood, he ap- 
 pears to have devoted himself to sensual pur- 
 suits. With a strong constitution of body, 
 great flow of animal spirits, fine personal ac- 
 complishments, and a large circle of gay and 
 dissipated companions, he seemed as amply
 
 COLONEL GARDINER. 313 
 
 qualified as most men, to range in the field of 
 animal enjoyments, and to extract from it all 
 that it is capable of yielding. Yet this com- 
 plete sensualist, in the meridian of his joys, 
 bitterly experienced, that " even in laughter 
 the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that 
 mirth is heaviness." Being at one time con- 
 gratulated by some of his dissolute companions, 
 on his distinguished felicity, and a dog hap- 
 pening to come into the room, he could not 
 forbear groaning inwardly, and saying to him- 
 self, " Oh ! that I were that dog ! " Such 
 was then his happiness ; and such, p-erhaps, 
 is that of hundreds more, who express the 
 greatest contempt of religion, and glory in a 
 miserable servitude, which they affect to call 
 libert}', 
 
 His continual neglect of 1 lie great Author 
 of his being, of whose perfections he could not 
 doubt, and to whom he knew himself to be 
 under daily and perpetual obligations, gave 
 hiiii, in some moments of involuntary reflec- 
 tion, inexpressible remorse; and this, at times, 
 >vrougkt upon him to such a degree, that he
 
 314 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 resolved he would attempt to pay him some 
 acknowledgments. Accordingly, for a time, 
 he did it; repeating in retirement, passages out 
 of the Psalms, and perhaps other Scriptures, 
 which he still retained in his memory ; and 
 owning, in a few strong words, the many mer- 
 cies and deliverances he had received, and the 
 ill returns he had made for them. But these 
 emotions were too devout to continue long in 
 a heart as yet quite unsanctified : for how 
 readily soever he could repeat acknowledg- 
 ments of the Divine Power, Presence, and 
 Goodness, and own his follies and faults, he 
 was stopped short by the remonstrances of 
 his conscience, on the flagrant absurdity of 
 confessing sins he did not desire to forsake ; 
 and of pretending to praise God for his mer- 
 cies, though he did not endeavour to live in his 
 service, and to behave in such a manner as 
 gratitude, if sincere, would have dictated. 
 
 About the thirty first year of his age, it 
 pleased God to make him deeply sensible of 
 the great wickedness of his life, and of the 
 dreadful consequences of persisting in it. He
 
 COLONEL GARPINER. 315 
 
 became truly penitent, lived ever afterwards 
 with great circumspection, and was a bright 
 and steady example of piety and goodness. 
 
 After this great change in his heart and 
 life, he did not entirely withdraw himself from 
 cheerful conversation ; but, on the contrary, 
 gave several hours every day to it, lest reli- 
 gion should be reproached, as having mado 
 him morose. He, however, early began a 
 practice, which to the last day of his life he 
 retained, of reproving vice and profaneness - % 
 and, under the consciousness of his superiority 
 in the goodness of his cause, he was never 
 afraid to debate the matter with any person, 
 A remarkable instance of this happened about 
 the middle of the year 1720. It was on his 
 first return, to make anv considerable abode 
 in England, after his singular conversion, lie 
 had heard, whilst he was at Paris, thai it was 
 currently reported among his companion* in 
 England, that he was stark mad. He con- 
 cluded, therefore, that he should have many 
 battles to light, and was willing to despatch 
 the business as fast as he could. And, there-
 
 316 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 fore, intending to spend a few days at the 
 country-house of a person of distinguished rank, 
 with whom he had been very intimate, he de- 
 sired him to contrive that, a day or two after 
 he came, several of their former gay com- 
 panions should meet at his lordship's table; 
 that he might have an opportunity of making 
 his apology to them, and of acquainting them 
 with the nature and reasons of his change. It 
 was accordingly agreed to ; and a pretty large 
 company met at the day appointed, with 
 previous notice that major Gardiner would 
 be there. A good deal of raillery passed at 
 dinner, to which the major made very little 
 answer. But when the cloth was taken away, 
 and the servants had retired, he begged the 
 patience of the company for a few minutes : 
 and then plainly and seriously informed them 
 what were his sentiments of religion and 
 virtue; and on what ground he had deter- 
 mined, that, by the grace of God, he would 
 make religion the great business of his life, 
 whatever he might lose by it, and whatever 
 censure and contempt he might incur. He 
 then challenged them to propose any thing
 
 COLONEL GARDINER. 317 
 
 they could urge, to prove that a life of irre- 
 ligion and debauchery is preferable to the 
 fear, love, and worship, of the eternal God, 
 and a conduct agreeable to the precepts of 
 the Gospel. And he failed not to bear testi- 
 mony, from his own experience, (to a part of 
 which many of them had been witnesses,) 
 that after having run the widest round of 
 sensual pleasure, with all the advantages which 
 the best constitution and spirits could give 
 him, he had never tasted any thing that de- 
 served to be called happiness, till he had made 
 religion his refuge and his delight. He de- 
 scribed, calmly and boldly, the habitual sere- 
 nity and peace that he now felt in his own 
 breast, (for the most elevated delights he did 
 not think fit to plead, lest they should be 
 esteemed enthusiasm,) and the composure and 
 pleasure with which he looked forward to ob- 
 jects, which the gayest sinner must acknow- 
 ledge to be equally unavoidable and dread- 
 ful. 
 
 After this solemn and manly defence of his 
 principles and conduct, the master of the
 
 SIS COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 table, who was a sensible and candid persott 3 
 said to the company : " Come, let us call another 
 cause. We thought this man mad, and he is 
 in good earnest proving that we are so." 
 On the whole, this well-judged circumstance 
 saved him a great deal of trouble. When his 
 former acquaintance observed, that he was still 
 conversable and innocently cheerful, and that 
 he was immovable in his resolutions, they de- 
 sisted from farther importunity. And he after- 
 wards declared, that instead of losing any one 
 valuable friend, by this change in his character, 
 he found himself much more esteemed and 
 regarded by many, who could not persuade 
 themselves to imitate his example. 
 
 The private letters of this amiable man, show 
 the religious state of his mind, and what great 
 enjoyment he derived from communion with 
 the Father of spirits. We shall make a few 
 extracts from some of them, which were written 
 to his wife, and to an intimate friend. 
 
 '* I should be glad to hear what wise and 
 good people, among von, think of the present
 
 COLONEL GARDINER. 319 
 
 circumstances of things. For my own part, 
 though I thank God I fear nothing for myself, 
 my apprehensions for the public are very 
 gloomy, considering the deplorable prevalency 
 of almost all kinds of wickedness amongst us ; 
 the natural consequence of the contempt of the 
 Gospel. I am daily offering up my prayers 
 to God for this sinful land of ours, over which 
 his judgment seems to be gathering ; and 
 my strength is sometimes so exhausted with 
 those strong cries and tears, which I pour 
 out before God on this occasion, that I 
 am hardly able to stand when I arise from 
 my knees. 
 
 " I bless God I was never better in my life -, 
 and I wish I could be so happy as to hear the 
 same of you ; or rather, in other words, to 
 hear that you had obtained an entire trust in 
 God. That would infallibly keep you in per- 
 fect peace ; for the God of truth has promised 
 it. Oh ! how ought we to long to be with 
 Christ ; which is infinitely better than any 
 thing we can propose here ! to be there, where 
 all complaints shall be for ever banished ; where
 
 5*20 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 no mountains shall separate between God and 
 our souls ! And I hope it will be some addition 
 to our happiness, that you and I shall be sepa- 
 rated no more ; but that as we have joined 
 in singing the praises of our glorious Redeemer 
 here, we shall sing them in a much higher 
 strain, through an endless eternity." 
 
 Speaking of one of his children, who, he 
 had heard, made a commendable progress in 
 learning, he expressed his satisfaction in it, 
 and added : " But how much greater joy 
 would it give me, to hear that he was 
 greatly advanced in the school of Christ ! 
 O ! that our children may be wise to sal- 
 vation -, and may grow in grace as they do in 
 stature!'* 
 
 On another occasion, he writes thus : 
 ii What would I have given this day, upon 
 the road, for paper, pen, and ink, when the 
 Spirit of the Most High rested upon me ! 
 O ! for the pen of a ready writer, and the 
 tongue of an angel, to declare what God has 
 done this day for my soul ! But, in short, it
 
 COLONEL GARDINER. 321 
 
 is in vain to attempt it $ all that I am able to 
 say, is only this, that my soul has been for 
 some hours joining with the blessed spirits 
 above, in giving glory, and honour, and praise, 
 unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to 
 the Lamb for ever and ever. 
 
 Such were the elevations of his mind : yet 
 there are many who will be inclined to censure 
 them, as the flights of enthusiasm. But when 
 we consider the scriptural phrases, " of walk- 
 ing with God j of having communion with 
 the Father and his Son Jesus Christ > of Christ's 
 coming to them that open the door of their 
 hearts to him, and supping with them ; of 
 God's shedding abroad his love in the heart 
 by his Spirit; of his coming with Jesus Christ, 
 and making his abode with any one that loves 
 him ; of making us glad by the light of his 
 countenance ;" and a variety of other equiva- 
 lent expressions, we shall sec reason to judge 
 very favourably of the sentiments contained 
 in these letters. If habitual love to God ; 
 firm faith in the Lord Jesus Christ ; a steady 
 
 V
 
 S c 22 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 dependence on the Divine promises ; a full per- 
 suasion of the wisdom and goodness of all the 
 dispensations of Providence ; a high esteem 
 for the blessings of the heavenly world ; and 
 a sincere contempt for the vanities of this ; 
 can properly be called enthusiasm, then was 
 colonel Gardiner, indeed, one of the greatest 
 enthusiasts our age has produced : and in pro- 
 portion to the degree in which he was so, he 
 must be esteemed one of the wisest and hap- 
 piest of mankind. " How often," says the 
 pious Grove, " are good thoughts suggested, 
 heavenly affections kindled and inflamed ; how 
 often is the Christian prompted to holy actions, 
 drawn to his duty, restored, quickened, per- 
 suaded; in such a manner, that he would be 
 unjust to the Spirit of God, to question his 
 agency in the whole ! Yes, O my soul ! there 
 is a Supreme Being, who governs the world, 
 and is present with it ; who takes up his more 
 special habitation in good men, and is nigh to 
 all who call upon him, to sanctify and assist 
 them ! Hast thou not felt him, O my soul ! like 
 another soul, actuating thy faculties, exalting
 
 COLONEL GARDINER. 323 
 
 thy views, purifying thy passions, exciting thy 
 graces, and begetting in thee an abhorrence 
 of sin, and a love of holiness ? And is not 
 all this an argument of his presence, as truly 
 as if thou didst see him?" 
 
 The cheerful and happy state of mind, for 
 which this excellent man had been remark- 
 able, continued with him to the last. It 
 seems, indeed, that towards the close of .life, 
 his pious fervours, like the flame of a lamp 
 almost expiring, sometimes rose to an unusual 
 blaze. " O ! " said he, on a particular occa- 
 sion, " how gracious a Master do we serve ! 
 how pleasant is his service ! how rich are the 
 entertainments of his love ! yet how poor and 
 cold are our services ! " 
 
 When he found his health declining, and en- 
 tertained a fixed sentiment that he should con- 
 tinue bnt a little while longer in life, he was 
 so far from being depressed with the prospect, 
 that he was delighted with it, and rejoiced 
 the nearer his end approached. The holy 
 
 Y2
 
 324 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 Scriptures, with which he had as intimate an 
 acquaintance as most men, continued to be 
 his daily study. They furnished him with 
 matter of frequent conversation, much to the 
 edification and comfort of those that were 
 about him. Among other passages he spoke 
 of the following, as having made a deep im- 
 pression on his mind : " My soul, wait thou 
 only upon God!" He would repeat it again 
 and again, "Only, only, only!" so plainly did 
 he see, and so deeply did he feel, the vanity of 
 all earthly confidences and expectations. He 
 often mentioned these words in Isaiah, as veri- 
 fied to him by long experience : " Thou wilt 
 keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed 
 on thee j because he trusteth in thee." And 
 with peculiar satisfaction he uttered these 
 heroic words in Habakkuk, which he found 
 armour of proof against every fear, and every 
 contingency : " Though 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 flocks shall be cut oil from 
 the fold, and there shall be no herd in the
 
 COLONEL GARDINER. 325 
 
 stalls : yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will 
 joy in the God of my salvation. 
 
 In the year 1745, he was ordered to repair 
 to Stirling, to assist in subduing the rebellion. 
 It was in the castle of that place, that his 
 wife and eldest daughter enjoyed the last happy 
 hours of his company : about eight or ten days 
 before his death, he parted from them there. A 
 remarkable circumstance attended the separa- 
 tion. His wife was so affected when she took 
 her last leave of him, that she burst into a 
 flood of tears, and betrayed other marks of 
 unusual emotion. When he asked her the 
 reason, she urged as a sufficient apology, the 
 apprehension she had of losing so invaluable 
 a friend, amidst the dangers to which he was 
 then called. She took particular notice, that 
 though he had generally comforted her on 
 such occasions, by reminding her of that, re- 
 markable hand of Providence, which had so 
 frequently, in former instances, been exerted 
 for his preservation, even in the greatest. 
 extremity, he said nothing of it now ; but 
 
 Y :}
 
 326 COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 only replied, in his sententious manner: "We 
 have an eternity to spend together.'* He was 
 killed in the battle of Preston-Pans, in the 
 fifty seventh year of his age *. 
 
 * This account of Colonel Gardiner is extracted from 
 a valuable little work, written by Dr. Doddridge, and 
 entitled, " Some remarkable Passages in the Life of 
 Colonel James Gardiner."
 
 ( 327 ) 
 
 SECTION U. 
 
 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 
 
 In the life, sufferings, and death, of lady 
 Elizabeth Hastings, we have a lively in- 
 stance of the power and support of re- 
 ligion. 
 
 An ingenuous temper, a quickness of un- 
 derstanding, a benevolent spirit, a flexibi- 
 lity of nature, and a solemn sense of divine 
 things, were observable in her tender age; 
 and, in the dangerous ascent of life, her 
 feet were guided and preserved in the patlts 
 of rectitude and goodness ; so that she was 
 not only free from the stain of vice in her 
 rising years, but superior to the world, and 
 its vain and trilling amusements. Through 
 the whole course of her time, her lamp 
 shone brightly ; and in mature age, diffused 
 its light and influence in a wide extent arouiid 
 her. 
 
 Y i
 
 328 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 
 
 It appears that the great aim of her life 
 was, to promote the glory of God, and the 
 welfare of men ; keeping her talents, exten- 
 sive fortune, and other means of doing good, 
 continually employed for the benefit of her 
 fellow-creatures. Of all her cares, a most 
 special one was that of the stranger, the 
 fatherless, and the widow ; the needy, and 
 him that had no helper j the lame, the halt, 
 and the blind. These objects excited her 
 most tender compassion. She participated in 
 their sufferings ; she often conversed with 
 them ; and inquired into their history, with 
 great condescension. She studied their par- 
 ticular cases, and put them in the way of 
 improving their condiiion. She often visited 
 them in sickness ; bore the expenses of it ; 
 and, no doubt, endeavoured to cheer and en- 
 courage them under all the apparent hard- 
 ships of their allotment. 
 
 The following character of this noble-minded 
 woman, was drawn by the hand of an eminent 
 writer. " Her countenance was the lively 
 
 picture of her mind, which was the seat of
 
 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 329 
 
 honour, truth, compassion, knowledge, and 
 innocence. In the midst of the most ample 
 fortune, and the veneration of all that be- 
 held and knew her, without the least affec- 
 tation, she devoted herself to retirement, to 
 the contemplation of her own being, and of 
 that Supreme Power which bestowed it. With- 
 out the learning of schools, or knowledge of 
 a long course of arguments, she went on in 
 an uninterrupted course of piety and virtue j 
 and added to the severity and privacy of the 
 last age, all the freedom and ease of this. 
 The language and mien of a court she was 
 possessed of in a high degree ; but the sim- 
 plicity and humble thoughts of a cottage, 
 were her more welcome entertainments. She 
 was a female philosopher, who did not only 
 live up to the resignation of the most retired 
 lives of the ancient sages, but also to the 
 schemes and plans which they thought beauti- 
 ful, though inimitable. This lady was the 
 most exact economist, without appearing busy; 
 the most strictly virtuous, without tasting the 
 praise of it ; and shunned applause with as 
 much industry as others do reproach."
 
 330 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 
 
 Towards the close of life, she experienced 
 great bodily affliction, having a cancer in 
 the breast, for which she underwent an am- 
 putation. But in all her sufferings from 
 this cause, and even under the trying ope- 
 ration, her religious fortitude and serenity 
 of mind did not forsake her. The resigna- 
 tion of her spirit to the dispensations of 
 Divine Providence, is strongly marked by 
 the following expressions, which dropped 
 from her during the course of this pain- 
 ful distemper: " I would not wish to be 
 out of my present situation, for all the 
 world ; nor exchange it for any other, at 
 any price." 
 
 The night subsequent to the operation, 
 did not afford her much sleep, but it was 
 a night of celestial peace; a time of thanks- 
 giving to her God, for the visible demon- 
 stration of his power in and about her; 
 for his stretched out arm in her great deli- 
 verance; for the bountiful provisions he had 
 made for all the wants of her soul and body;
 
 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 331 
 
 and, in a word, for all his blessings con- 
 ferred upon her. 
 
 She was, sooner than expected, restored 
 to a comfortable state of health, and to 
 that life of charity and beneficence, which 
 was the joy of her heart : but the disorder, 
 repressed only for a time, appeared ap^ain 
 with new malignity ; and, at length, put a 
 period to all her sorrows. Her lamp and 
 her life were, however, to be extinguished 
 together : she was pious and beneficent to 
 the last. 
 
 A short time before her departure, im- 
 pressed with a strong sense of Divine Good- 
 ness, she broke out, with a raised accent, 
 in the following manner : " Lord ! what 
 is it that I see ? O the greatness of the 
 glory that is revealed in me ! that is be- 
 fore me ! " So joyful appears to have 
 been her entrance into the kingdom of her 
 Lord and Saviour. She died in the year 
 1740.
 
 S32 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS.. 
 
 The truly religious, whose evidences of a 
 blessed futurity are clear, rational, and well 
 founded, have, at times, in their journey 
 through life, a tide of hope and joy spring- 
 ing up in their minds, beyond expression ; a 
 felicity more moving and satisfactory than 
 any can imagine, but they who have, in some 
 degree, experienced it. And when they are 
 just entering upon the promised land, they 
 are sometimes favoured to have the splendour 
 of the eternal day dawn upon them, and to 
 shine as through the breaches of their shattered 
 bodies ; raising in their spirits such an earnest 
 of happiness, such foretastes of joy, as enable 
 them to pass through the valley of death 
 in peace and triumph. "What a rich reward 
 for all the crosses and conflicts of this pro- 
 bationary scene ! and how animating a source 
 of encouragement, during our pilgrimage, to 
 rise above, and look beyond, all the troubles 
 f time !
 
 ( 333 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 H. HOUSMAN. 
 
 THERE are few greater instances of the happy- 
 power of religion on the mind, than that which 
 was exhibited by an excellent and pious woman 
 of the name of Ilousman, when she drew near 
 the close of life. 
 
 She was born at Kidderminster, of religious 
 parents, who early instructed her in the duties 
 of religion. By her diary, it appears she was 
 brought under lively impressions of divine things, 
 at thirteen years of age. From 1711, when her 
 diary begins, to 1735, the time of her death,, 
 her life seems to have been a circumspect walk- 
 ing in the fear of God. The following account 
 of her last illness and death, was drawn up by 
 a person who attended her throughout. 
 
 From the time of her first seizure, she was 
 exercised with very violent pains, without any
 
 334 H. HOUSMAN. 
 
 intermission till her death ; such as, she would 
 often say, she thought she could not have 
 borne: " But," said she, " God is good; verily 
 he is good to me ! Through life I have found 
 him a good and gracious God." 
 
 When recovering from extreme pain she 
 said : " God is good ; I have found him so ; 
 and though he slay me, yet I will trust in 
 him. These pains make me love my Lord 
 Jesus the better. O they put me in mind 
 of what he suffered, to purchase salvation for 
 my poor soul ! Why for me, Lord ! why for 
 me, the greatest of sinners ? Why for me, 
 who so long refused the rich oilers of thy 
 grace, and the kind invitations of the Gospel ? 
 How many helps and means have I enjoyed 
 more than many others ; yea, above most ! 
 I had a religious father and mother ; and I 
 had access to a valuable minister, to whom 
 I could often and freely open my mind. I 
 have lived in a golden age. I have lived in 
 peaceable times, and have enjoyed great ad- 
 vantages and helps for communion with God, 
 and the peace of my own mind; for which
 
 H. HOUSMAN. 335 
 
 I owe my gracious God and Father more 
 praises than words can express. Bless the 
 Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, 
 bless his holy name ! Bless the Lord, O my 
 soul, and forget not all, or any, of his bene- 
 fits ! " 
 
 When any were weeping and mourning over 
 her, she would say : " Weep not for me : it 
 is the will of God ; therefore be content. If 
 it may be for his honour and glory, he will 
 spare me a little longer; if not, I am wholly 
 resigned to the will of God. I am content 
 to stay here, as long as he has any thing 
 for me to do, or to suffer; and I am willing 
 to go, if it be my Father's good pleasure. 
 Therefore be content, and say, ' It is the Lord, 
 let him do what seemeth to him good.' ' 
 
 To a person who came to see her, she said : 
 "Cousin, I think I shall die: and now, what 
 a comfort it is, that I am not afraid of death ! 
 The blood of Christ cleanses me from ail sin 
 But mistake me not ; there must be a life and 
 conversation agreeable to the Gospel, or else
 
 336 H. HOUSMAN. 
 
 our faith in Christ is a dead faith. Secure 
 Christ for your friend ; set not your heart on 
 things below: riches and honours, and what 
 the world calls pleasures, are all fading, perish- 
 ing things." She then threw out her hand, 
 and said ; " O, if I had thousands and ten 
 thousands of gold and silver lying by me, 
 what could they do for me, now I am dying ? 
 Take the advice of a departing friend who 
 wishes you well. Do not set your affections 
 on riches,, or on any thing here below. Re- 
 member, death will come in a little while, 
 whether you are ready or unready, willing 
 or unwilling. I commend you to God. I 
 hope, in a short time, we shall meet again, 
 in heaven, that place of perfect rest, peace, 
 and happiness." 
 
 The whole time of her sickness, she was in 
 a cheerful, thankful frame of mind. When 
 she was cold, and had something warm given 
 to her, she often said : " Blessed be God for 
 all his mercies ; and for this comfort in my 
 affliction." On her attendant's warming a 
 piece of flannel, and putting it round her cold
 
 H. HOUSMAN. 33? 
 
 hands, she thanked her for it ; and said : " O, 
 how many mercies I have ! I want for nothing. 
 Here is every thing I can wish for. I can 
 say, I never wanted any good thing. I wish 
 only for a tranquil passage to glory. It was 
 free grace that plucked me from the very brink 
 of hell ; and it is the power of divine Grace, 
 that has supported me through the whole of 
 my life. Hitherto I can say, the Lord in 
 gracious. He has been very merciful to me, 
 in sustaining me under all my trials. The 
 Lord brings affliction, but it is not because 
 he delights to afflict his children: it is at all 
 times for our profit. I can say, it has been 
 good for me to be afflicted; it has enabled 
 mc to discern things, which, when I was in 
 health, I could not perceive. It has made 
 me see more of the vanity and emptiness of 
 this world, and all its delusive pleasures ; for, 
 at best, they are but vanity. I can say, from 
 my own experience, I have found them to 
 be so many a time," 
 
 To her husband, the day before -lie died, 
 she said : < k My dear, I think I am going 
 
 Z
 
 338 H. HOUSMAN. 
 
 apace 3 and I hope you will be satisfied, be- 
 cause it is the will of God. You have at 
 all times been very loving and good to me; 
 and I thank you for it kindly : and now I 
 desire you freely to resign me to God. If 
 God sees it best to prolong my stay here 
 upon earth, I am willing to stay ; or if he 
 sees it best to take me to himself, I am will- 
 ing to go. I am willing to be, and to bear, 
 what may be most for his glory." 
 
 The evening before she died, she found death 
 stealing upon her; and, feeling her own pulse, 
 said: " Well, it will be but a little while before 
 my work in this world will be finished. Then 
 I shall have done with prayer. My whole 
 employment in heaven will be praise and 
 love. Here, I love God but faintly, yet, I 
 hope, sincerely ; but there, it will be perfectly. 
 I shall behold his face in righteousness -, for 
 I am thy servant, Lord ! bought with blood, 
 with precious blood. Christ died to purchase 
 the life of my soul. A little while, and then 
 I shall be singing that sweet song, * Blessing, 
 nnd honour, and glory, and power, be unto
 
 ti. HOUSMAN. 339 
 
 HIM that sitteth upon the throne, and to the 
 LAMB for ever and ever.' " 
 
 With smiles in her face, and transports of 
 joy, she often said : " Come, Lord Jesus, come 
 quickly ! Why tarry the wheels of thy chariot? 
 O blessed convoy ! come and fetch my soul, 
 to dwell with God, and Christ, and perfect 
 spirits, for ever and ever. When I join that 
 blessed society above, my pleasures wilNnever 
 end. O the glory that shall be set on the 
 head of faith and love 1" 
 
 A few minutes before her departure, find- 
 ing herself going, she desired to be lifted 
 up. When this was done, she cheerfully said: 
 " Farewell sin! farewell pains !" and so finish- 
 ed her course with joy. 
 
 Z2
 
 ( 340 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Philip Doddridge was born in London, 
 in the year 1702. His parents, who were 
 persons of great worth, brought him up in 
 an early knowledge of religion : but he had 
 the misfortune to lose them before he was 
 fourteen years old. This circumstance ex- 
 cited in his mind very serious reflections, which, 
 however, were not wholly of a gloomy nature; 
 for he expressed a devout, and even a cheerful, 
 trust in the protection of the God of Mercies, 
 the universal Parent of mankind. 
 
 He diligently improved his time, and was 
 anxious to be daily advancing in knowledge, 
 piety, virtue, and usefulness. lie possessed 
 strong powers of mind, and, by unwearied 
 application, acquired a large fund of sound 
 and elegant learning. His publications, which 
 are chiefly on religious subjects, have been
 
 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 341 
 
 eminently useful to the world. By his literary 
 acquisitions, his amiable disposition, and his 
 desire to imbue the young mind with know- 
 ledge and virtue, he was qualified, in a pecu- 
 liar manner, to become the instructer of youth; 
 and for many years he superintended a very 
 respectable academy. As the pastor of a con- 
 gregation, he manifested a sincere and zealous 
 regard for the happiness of the people under 
 his care, by whom he was greatly honoured 
 and beloved. 
 
 He possessed many virtues -, but the prime 
 and leading feature of his soul, was devotion. 
 He was very solicitous to preserve and cultivate 
 an habitual sense of the Supreme Being; to 
 maintain and increase the ardour of religion 
 in his heart; and to prepare himself, by de- 
 vout exercises, for the important labours of 
 his station. Nor was it to his secret retire- 
 ments that his piety was limited: it was mani- 
 fested in every part of the day, and appeared 
 in his usual intercourse with men. In the 
 little vacancies of time which occur to the 
 busiest of mankind, he was frequently lifting 
 
 Z3
 
 342 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 
 
 up his soul to God. When he lectured on 
 philosophy, history, anatomy, or other subjects 
 not immediately theological, he would endea- 
 vour to graft some religious instructions upon 
 them, that he might raise the minds of his 
 pupils to devotion, as well as to knowledge : 
 and in his visits to his people, the Christian 
 friend and minister were united. 
 
 The piety of Dr. Doddridge was accompanied 
 with the warmest benevolence to his fellow- 
 creatures. No one could more strongly feel, 
 that the love of God must be united with 
 love to man. Nor was this a principle that 
 rested in kind wishes, and pathetic feelings 
 for the happiness of others; but it was mani- 
 fested in the most active exertions for their 
 welfare. No scheme of doing good was ever 
 suggested to him, into which he did not enter 
 with ardour. But the generosity of his mind 
 was the most displayed, when any plans of 
 propagating religion, and of spreading the 
 Gospel, among those who were strangers to 
 it, were proposed. In every thing of this 
 kind, he was always ready to take the lead;,
 
 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 343 
 
 and was ardent in endeavouring to inspire his 
 friends with the same spirit. 
 
 He was of a weak and delicate bodily con- 
 stitution; and a severe cold which he caught 
 about the forty eighth year of his age, brought 
 on a consumption of the lungs. The nearer 
 he approached to his dissolution, the more 
 plainly was observed his continual improve- 
 ment in a spiritual and heavenly temper. 
 Indeed, he seemed to have risen above the 
 world, and to be daily breathing after immor- 
 tality. This disposition of his mind was ar- 
 dently expressed in several of his letters; and 
 it is manifest from his will, which was made 
 at this time, and is prefaced in the following 
 language. " Whereas it is customary on these 
 occasions to begin with commending the soul 
 into the hands of God, through Christ ; I do 
 it, not in mere form, but with sincerity and 
 joy: esteeming it my greatest happiness, that 
 I am taught and eneouraged to do it, by 
 that glorious Gospel, which, having most as- 
 suredly believed it, I have spent my life in 
 preaching to others ; and which I esteem an 
 
 Z4
 
 344 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 
 
 infinitely greater treasure than all my little 
 worldly store, or possessions ten thousand 
 times greater than mine." 
 
 Having made trial of the waters of Bristol, 
 and his health still continuing more and more 
 to decline, he was advised by his physicians 
 and friends, as the last resort in so threaten- 
 ing a disorder, to remove to a warmer climate. 
 He accordingly went to Lisbon. His resig- 
 nation to the Divine disposal is strongly marked 
 in a letter which he wrote soon after his arri- 
 val there. After mentioning his great weakness 
 and danger, he added : " Nevertheless, I bless 
 God, the most undisturbed serenity continues 
 in my mind, and my strength holds proportion 
 to my day. I still hope and trust in God, 
 and joyfully acquiesce in all he may do with 
 me. When you see my dear friends of the 
 congregation, inform them of my circumstances, 
 and assure them, that I cheerfully submit my- 
 self to God. If I desire life may be restored, 
 it is chiefly that it may be employed in serving 
 Christ among them. I am enabled, by faith, 
 to look upon death as an enemy that shall
 
 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 345 
 
 be destroyed ; and can cheerfully leave my 
 dear Mrs. Doddridge a widow in a strange 
 land, if such be the appointment of our 
 heavenly Father. I hope I have done my 
 duty ; and the Lord do as seemeth good in 
 his sight." 
 
 Change of climate did not produce the de- 
 sired effect, and Dr. Doddridge continued gra- 
 dually to weaken, till death put a period to 
 his afflictions. In his last hours, he preserved 
 the same calmness, vigour, and joy of mind, 
 which he had felt and expressed through the 
 whole of his illness. The only pain he had 
 in the thought of dying, was the fear of that 
 grief and distress which his wife would suffer 
 from his removal. To his children, his con- 
 gregation, and his friends in general, he de- 
 sired to be remembered in the most affec- 
 tionate maimer; nor did tie, in the effusions 
 of his pious benevolence, forget, the family 
 where he lodged, or his own servant. Manv 
 devout sentiments and aspirations were uttered 
 by him : but the heart of hi* wife was too 
 much affected with his approaching change,
 
 346 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 
 
 to be able to recollect them distinctly. Though 
 be died in a foreign land, and, in a certain 
 sense, among strangers, his decease was em- 
 balmed with many tears*. 
 
 * A judicious life of this excellent man, written by 
 Dr. Kippis, is prefixed to the first volume of Dr. Dod- 
 dridge's Family Expositor.
 
 ( 347 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS SOAME JENYNS LORD LYTTELTOX 
 
 JONAS HANWAY ANTHONY BENEZET JAMES I1ERVEY 
 
 ALTAMONT, OR THE DEATH OF THE LIBERTINE, 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 
 
 Louis, duke of Orleans, first prince of 
 the blood royal of France, and highly distin- 
 guished for piety and learning, was born at 
 Versailles, in the year 1?03. He was the son of 
 Philip, duke of Orleans, regent of France; and 
 of Mary Fiances of Bourbon. He discovered, 
 in his very childhood, a reverence for religion, 
 a shining genius, and an enlarged understand- 
 ing. At an early age he became sensible of 
 the vanity of titles, pre-eminence, and all the 
 splendour of life. He proposed to hims< If a 
 new mode of conduct, which he afterwards
 
 348 LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 
 
 pursued, dividing his time between the duties 
 peculiar to his rank, the exercises of a Christian, 
 and the studies which improve the mind. He 
 was, in every respect, a pattern of self-denial, 
 of piety, and of virtue. 
 
 His religion was not merely contemplative; 
 for he possessed a most extensive charity, and 
 an enlightened zeal for the public good. The 
 indigent of every age, sex, and condition, 
 excited his compassionate regard. * Pie daily 
 heard their complaints, in one of the halls 
 of the convent of St. Genevieve ; he sympa- 
 thized with them; he alleviated their distresses. 
 When it was not in his power to dismiss them 
 entirely satisfied, his heart seemed to grant 
 what necessity obliged him to refuse. It is 
 hardly to be imagined what sums this pious 
 prince expended, in placing children for edu- 
 cation in colleges and nunneries, in portioning 
 young women, endowing nuns, putting boys 
 apprentices, or purchasing for them their free- 
 dom ; in setting up unfortunate tradesmen in 
 business again, and preventing the ruin of 
 others; in restoring and supporting noblemen's
 
 LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 349 
 
 families j in relieving the sick, and paying sur- 
 geons for their attendance on them. Very 
 often, accompanied by a single servant, he 
 sought after poor persons, in chambers and 
 garrets; and kindly administered to their wants. 
 He made great improvements in physic, agri- 
 culture, arts, and manufactures. He purchased, 
 and published, a variety of useful remedies. 
 His gardens were filled with medicinal plants 
 of all sorts, brought from the most distant 
 climates. 
 
 The delight he found in piety and devotion, 
 he used thus to express : " I know, by ex- 
 perience, that sublunary grandeur and sub- 
 lunary pleasure, are delusive and vain; and 
 are always infinitely below the conceptions 
 wc form of them : but, on the contrary, such 
 happiness, and such complacency, may be 
 found in devotion and piety, as the sensual 
 mind has no idea of." 
 
 In his last illness, perceiving that death 
 was approaching, he prepared for it with 
 the greatest fortitude and composure ; and
 
 350 LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 
 
 spoke of it, as of the demise of another 
 person. In his will, he expatiated^ in the 
 most pathetic manner, on his belief in the 
 resurrection. 
 
 At the concluding period of life, his 
 mind seemed filled with the love of God 5 
 and he implored, with the utmost earnestness, 
 the Divine blessing for his son, the duke of 
 Chartres. " I have a son," said he to the 
 minister who attended him, " whom I am 
 going to commend to the all-perfect Being. 
 I entreat God that his natural virtues may 
 become Christian graces; that the qualities 
 which gain him esteem, may be serviceable 
 to his salvation; that his love for the king, 
 and his love for me, may be the blossoms of 
 that immortal charity, which the holy spirit? 
 and blessed angels enjoy." 
 
 Thus died this truly Christian prince, in the 
 forty ninth year of his age.
 
 < 351 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 SOAME JENYNS. 
 
 SOAME JENYNS was born in London, in the 
 year 1704. He was carefully educated in his 
 father's house, till he went to the university 
 of Cambridge, where he studied very diligently 
 for several years. In 1741 he represented Cam- 
 bridge in parliament ; where he continued to 
 sit, chiefly for that place, but twice for others, 
 till 17^0. In 1755 he was appointed one of 
 the lords of trade ; which office he held, during 
 every change of administration, till it was abo- 
 lished in 1780. 
 
 His character appears to have been amiable 
 and respectable. As an author, he attained 
 no small degree of reputation, by fine talents 
 which had every aid that useful and polite 
 learning could bestow. He had a critical 
 judgment, an elegant taste, and a rich vein 
 of wit and humour. His ' View of the in-
 
 3,52 SOAME JENYNS. 
 
 ternal evidences of the Christian religion/ 1 
 abounds with just and important observations. 
 It was written under a full conviction of the 
 truth of the Christian dispensation, and from 
 a sincere zeal for its service. 
 
 On his death-bed, it is said that, in looking 
 over his life, he particularly rejoiced in the 
 belief, that his " View of the internal Evi- 
 dences," had been useful. He spoke of his 
 death in such a manner as showed he was 
 prepared to die. A very honourable testimony 
 to his talents and merit, was inscribed in the 
 register of Bottisham, by William Lort Mansell, 
 his parish minister. " He regrets the loss of 
 one of the most amiable of men, and one of 
 the truest Christians ; a man who possessed 
 the finest understanding united to the best 
 heart." 
 
 The following sentiments of Soame Jenyns, 
 on the excellence of the spirit and precepts 
 of the Gospel, appear to have been formed 
 so much under the influence of true religion, 
 and contain so strong a testimony in favour
 
 SOAME JENYNS. 35$ 
 
 of its divine efficacy, that they claim a place 
 in this collection. 
 
 " Let us examine," says he, " what are the 
 new precepts in the Christian Religion, which 
 peculiarly correspond with its object, the pre- 
 paring us for the kingdom of heaven. Of* 
 these, the chief are, poorness of spirit, for- 
 giveness of injuries, and charity to all men: 
 to these, we may add repentance, faith, self* 
 abasement, and a detachment from the world; 
 all moral duties peculiar to this religion, and 
 absolutely necessary to the attainment of its 
 end. 
 
 " Blessed are the poor iri spirit; for theirs 
 is the kingdom of heaven.*' By which poor- 
 ness of spirit, is to be understood, a disposition 
 of mind, meek, humble, submissive to power, 
 void of ambition, patient of injuries, and free 
 from all resentment. This was so new, and 
 so opposite to the ideas of all Pagan moralists, 
 that they thought this temper of mind a cri- 
 minal and contemptible meanness, which must 
 induce men to sacrifice the glory of their coun- 
 
 Aa
 
 3^4 SOAME JENYNS. 
 
 try, and their own honour to a shameful pusil- 
 lanimity; and such it appears to almost all 
 who are called Christians, even at this day ; 
 who not only reject it in practice, but dis- 
 avow it in principle, notwithstanding this ex- 
 plicit declaration of their master. We see 
 them revenging the smallest affronts by pre- 
 meditated murder, as individuals, on principles 
 of honour; and, in their national capacities, 
 destroying each other with fire and sword, 
 for the low considerations of commercial in- 
 terests, the balance of rival powers, or the 
 ambition of princes : we see them, with their 
 last breath, animating each other to a savage 
 revenge; and, in the agonies of death, plun- 
 ging, with feeble arms, their daggers into the 
 hearts of their opponents : and, what is still 
 worse, we hear all these barbarisms celebrated 
 by historians; flattered by poets; applauded 
 in theatres ; approved in senates ; and even 
 sanctified in pulpits ! But universal practice can- 
 not alter the nature of things, nor universal 
 error change the nature of truth. Pride was 
 not made for man ; but humility, meekness, 
 and resignation, that is, poorness of spirit was
 
 SOAME JENYNS. 355 
 
 made for man, and properly belongs to his 
 dependent and precarious situation j and is 
 the only disposition of mind, which can enable 
 him to enjoy ease and quiet here, and hap- 
 piness hereafter. Yet was this important pre* 
 cept entirely unknown, until it was promul- 
 gated by him who said ; ' Suffer little children 
 to come unto me, and forbid them not ; for 
 of such is the kingdom of heaven : verily I 
 say unto you, whoever shall not receive the 
 kingdom of God as a little child, he shall 
 not enter therein/ 
 
 Another precept, equally new, and no less 
 excellent, is, forgiveness of injuries. " Ye 
 have heard," says Christ to his disciples, 
 " Thou slialt love thy neighbour, and hate 
 thine enemy : but I say unto you, love your 
 enemies ; bless them that curse you ; do good 
 to them that hate you; and pray for them 
 who despitefully use you, and persecute you." 
 -This was a lesson so new, and so utterly 
 unknown, till taught by his doctrines, and 
 enforced by his example, that the wisest moral- 
 ists of the wisest nations and ages, represented 
 
 A a 2
 
 356 SOAME JENYKS. 
 
 the desire of revenge as a mark of a noble 
 mind, and the accomplishment of it as one 
 of the chief felicities attendant on a fortunate 
 man. But how much more magnanimous, 
 how much more beneficial to mankind, is for- 
 giveness ! It is more magnanimous, because 
 every generous and exalted disposition of the 
 human mind is requisite to the practice of it; 
 for these alone can enable us to bear the wrongs 
 and insults of wickedness and folly, with pa- 
 tience, and to look down on the perpetrators 
 of them, with pity, rather than indignation : 
 these alone can teach us, that such are but 
 a part of those sufferings allotted to us in this- 
 state of probation j and to know, that to over- 
 come evil with good, is the most glorious of 
 all victories. It is the most beneficial, because 
 this amiable conduct alone can put an end 
 to a continual succession of injuries and re- 
 taliations 3 for every retaliation becomes a new 
 injury, and requires another act of revenge for 
 satisfaction. But would we observe this salu- 
 tary precept, " to love our enemies, and to 
 do good to those who despitefully use us," 
 this obstinate benevolence would at last con-
 
 SOAME JENYNS. 357 
 
 quer the most inveterate hearts, and we should 
 have no enemies to forgive. How much more 
 exalted a character, therefore, is a Christian 
 martyr, suffering with resignation, and praying 
 for the guilty, than that of a Pagan hero, 
 breathing revenge, and destroying the innocent ! 
 Yet, noble and useful as this virtue is, before 
 the appearance of this religion, it was not 
 only unpractised, but decried in principle, as 
 mean and ignominious, though so obvious a 
 remedy for most of the miseries of this life, 
 and so necessary a qualification for the hap- 
 piness of the next. 
 
 Repentance is another new moral duty stre- 
 nuously insisted on by this religion. But no 
 repentance can remove our depravity, unless 
 it be such as entirely changes the nature and 
 disposition of the offender; which, in the lan- 
 guage of Scripture, is called " Being born 
 again." Mere contrition for past crimes, and 
 even the pardon of them, cannot effect this, 
 unless it operate to this entire conversion, or 
 new birth, as it is properly and emphatically 
 named; for sorrow can no more purify a mind 
 
 A a J
 
 358 SOAME JENYNS. 
 
 corrupted by a long continuance in vicious 
 habits, than it can restore health to a body 
 distempered by a long course of vice and 
 intemperance. Hence also, every one who is 
 in the least acquainted with himself, may judge 
 of the reasonableness of the hope that is in 
 him, and of his situation in a future state, 
 by his present condition. If he feels in him- 
 self a temper proud, turbulent, vindictive, and 
 malevolent, and a violent attachment to the 
 pleasures or business of the world, he may be 
 assured that he must be excluded from the 
 kingdom of heaven ; not only because his con- 
 duct can attract no such reward ; but because, 
 if admitted, he would find there no objects 
 satisfactory to his passions, inclinations, and 
 pursuits. 
 
 Faith is another moral duty enjoined by this 
 institution, and recommended in the New Testa- 
 ment; where, in general, it signifies an humble, 
 teachable, and candid disposition, a trust in 
 God, and confidence in his declarations and 
 promises; and it is always a direct contrast 
 to pride, obstinacy, and self-conceit.
 
 SOAME JEXYXS. 359 
 
 Self-abasement is another moral duty incul- 
 cated by this religion only; which requires us 
 to impute even our own virtues, to the grace 
 and favour of our Creator ; and to acknowledge, 
 that we can do nothing good by our own 
 powers, unless assisted by his over- ruling in- 
 fluence. This doctrine seems, at first sight, 
 to infringe on our free-will, and to deprive 
 us of all merit; but, on a closer (examination, 
 jtbe truth of it may be demonstrated both by 
 reason and experience : it is evident that, in 
 fact, it does not impair the one, or depreciate 
 the other; and that it is productive of so much 
 humility, resignation, and dependence on God, 
 that it justly claims a place amongst the most 
 illustrious moral yirtues. 
 
 Detachment from the world is another moral 
 virtue constituted by this religion alone; so 
 new, that, even at this day, lew of its pro- 
 fessors can be persuaded that it is required, 
 or that it is any virtue at all. By this detach- 
 ment from the world, is not to be understood 
 a seclusion from society, abstraction from all 
 business, or retirement to a Moomv cloister. 
 
 A a \
 
 360 SOAME JENYNS. 
 
 Industry and labour, cheerfulness and hospi- 
 tality, are frequently recommended j nor is the 
 acquisition of wealth and honours prohibited, 
 if they can be obtained by honest means, and 
 a moderate degree of attention and care: but 
 such an unremitted anxiety, and perpetual 
 application, as engross our whole time and 
 thoughts, are forbidden ; because they are in- 
 compatible with the spirit of this religion, and 
 must utterly disqualify us for the attainment 
 of its great end. We toil on in the vain pur- 
 suits and frivolous occupations of the world, 
 die in our harness, and then expect, if no 
 gigantic crime stand in. the way, to step im- 
 mediately into the kingdom of heaven : but 
 without a previous detachment from the busi- 
 ness of this world, we cannot be prepared 
 for the happiness of another. Yet this could 
 make no part of the morality of Pagans, because 
 their virtues were altogether connected with 
 this business, and consisted chiefly in conduct- 
 ing it with honour to themselves, and benefit 
 to the public. Christianity has a nobler object 
 in view, which, if not attended to, must be 
 lost for ever. This object is that celestial
 
 SOAME JENVNS. 361 
 
 mansion, of which we should never lose sight, 
 and to which we should be ever advancing, 
 during our journey through life : but this by 
 no means precludes us from performing the 
 business, or enjoying the amusements, of tra- 
 vellers, provided they detain us not too long, 
 nor lead us out of our way. 
 
 Another precept, first noticed and first en- 
 joined by this institution, is, charity to all men. 
 What this is, we may best learn from the ad- 
 mirable description, contained in the following 
 words : " Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; 
 charity envieth not; chanty vaunteth not it- 
 self; is not puffed up; doth not behave itself 
 unseemly ; seeketli not her own ; is not easily 
 provoked ; thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in 
 iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth 
 all things ; believeth all things ; hopeth all 
 things; endureth all things." Here we have 
 an accurate delineation of this bright constel- 
 lation of all virtues ; which consist not, as 
 many imagine, in the building of monasteries, 
 endowment of hospitals, or the distribution of 
 alms; but in such an amiable disposition of
 
 36% SOAME JENYNS. 
 
 mind, as exercises itself every hour, in acts of 
 kindness, patience, complacency, and bene- 
 volence to all around us; and which alone 
 is able to promote happiness in the present 
 life, or render us capable of receiving it in 
 another. And yet this is totally new, and so 
 it is declared to be, by the Author of it; "A 
 new commandment I give unto you, that ye 
 love one another; as I have loved you, that 
 ye love one another: by this shall all men 
 know that ye are my disciples, if ye have 
 love one to another." This benevolent dis- 
 position is made the great characteristic of a 
 Christian, the test of his obedience, and the 
 mark by which he is to be distinguished. 
 
 " This love for each other, is that charity 
 just now described, and contains all those qua- 
 lities which are there attributed to it; humility, 
 patience, meekness, and beneficence : without 
 which we must live in perpetual discord, and 
 consequently cannot pay obedience to this 
 commandment of loving one another: a com- 
 mandment so sublime, so rational, and so bene- 
 ficial, so wisely calculated to correct the de-
 
 SOAME JENYNS. 365 
 
 pravity, diminish the wickedness, and abate 
 the miseries of human nature, that did we 
 universally comply with it, we should soon 
 be relieved from all the inquietudes arising 
 from our own unruly passions, anger, envy, 
 revenge, malice, and ambition j as well as 
 from all those injuries, to which we are per- 
 petually exposed, from the indulgence of the 
 same passions in others. It would also pre- 
 serve our minds in such a state of tranquillity, 
 and so prepare them for the kingdom of heaven, 
 that we should slide out of a life of peace, love, 
 and benevolence, into that celestial society, by 
 an almost imperceptible transition."
 
 ( 364 ) 
 
 SECTION III f 
 
 LORD LYTTELTON. 
 
 GEORGE LYTTELTON, the son of sir Thomas 
 Lyttelton, of Hagjey in Worcestershire, was 
 born in 1709. He was educated at Eton, 
 and was so much distinguished there, that his 
 exercises were recommended as models to his 
 school-fellows. At the university of Oxford, 
 where his education was completed, he pur- 
 sued his classical studies with uncommon avi- 
 dity and success ; and retained the same re- 
 putation of superiority. 
 
 As a writer, both in prose and verse, lord 
 Lyttelton attained considerable eminence ; and, 
 by his great abilities and integrity, became 
 highly useful to his country. 
 
 In the pride of juvenile confidence, with 
 the help of corrupt conversation, he had en- 
 tertained doubts of the truth of Christianity ;
 
 LORD LYTTELTON"} S0<3 
 
 but about the thirty eighth year of his age, 
 he thought the time come when it was no 
 longer fit to doubt or believe by chance, and 
 applied himself seriously to the great question. 
 His studies, being honest, ended in convic- 
 tion. Me found that religion was true, and 
 what he had learned he endeavoured to 
 teach, by " Observations on the Conversion 
 of St. Paul ;" a treatise to which infidelity 
 has never been able to fabricate a specious 
 answer. This book his father had the hap- 
 piness of seeing, and expressed his plea- 
 sure, in a letter which deserves to be in~ 
 sorted. 
 
 " I have read yOur religious treatise, with 
 infinite pleasure and satisfaction. The style 
 is fine and clear, the arguments close, cogent, 
 and irresistible. Ma} r the King of kings, 
 whose glorious cause you have so well defended, 
 reward your pious labours ; and grant that I 
 may be found worthy, through the merits of 
 Jesus Christ, to be an eye-witness of that hap- 
 piness, which I do not doubt he will bounti- 
 fully bestow upon you. In thf mean time,
 
 8Q6 LORD LYTTELTON. 
 
 I shall never cease glorifying God, for having 
 endowed you with such useful talents, and 
 given me so good a son. 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Thomas Lyttelton." 
 
 After a life spent in honourable pursuits, this 
 distinguished person was seized with a severe 
 illness, about the sixty fourth year of his age, 
 which soon proved mortal. Of his death a 
 very affecting and instructive account has been 
 given by his physician. 
 
 " On Sunday evening the symptoms Of his 
 lordship's disorder, which for a week past had 
 alarmed us, put on a fatal appearance ; and 
 his lordship believed himself to be a dying 
 man. From this time he suffered by restless- 
 ness, rather than pain. Though his nerves were 
 apparently much fluttered, his mental faculties 
 never seemed stronger, when he was thoroughly 
 awake." 
 
 " Though his lordship wished his approach- 
 ing dissolution not to be lingering, he waited
 
 LORD LYTTELTON. S67 
 
 for it with resignation. He said, l It is a folly, 
 a keeping me in misery, now to attempt to 
 prolong life;' yet he was easily persuaded, 
 for the satisfaction of others, to do or take 
 any thing thought proper for him. On 
 Saturday he had been remarkably better, 
 and we were not without some hopes of his 
 recovery. 
 
 " On Sunday, about eleven in the forenoon, 
 his lordship sent for me : he said he felt a 
 great hurry of spirits, 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 whence goodness had so 
 long llowed, as from a copious spring. * When 
 I first set out in the world,' said he, * 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 doc- 
 trines 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
 
 36*8 LORD LYTTELTON. 
 
 future hopes. I have erred and sinned ; but 
 have repented, and never indulged any vicious 
 habit. In politics, and public life, I have 
 made public good the rule of my conduct. 
 I never gave counsels which I did riot at the 
 time think the best. 1 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 designs upon any person what- 
 soever. 
 
 " At another time, he said, I must 
 leave my soul in the same state it was in 
 before my illness ; I find this a very incon- 
 convenient time for solicitude about any 
 thing, 
 
 " On the evening, when the symptoms of 
 death came on, he said, ' I shall die ; but it 
 will not be your fault.' When lord and lady 
 Valentia came to see his lordship, he gave them 
 his solemn benediction, and said, { Be good, 
 be virtuous, my lord ;. you must come to this,"
 
 LORD LYTTELTON. 369 
 
 Thus he continued giving his dying benediction 
 to all around him. On Monday morning a 
 lucid interval gave some small hopes, but these 
 vanished in the evening ; and he continued 
 dying, though with very little uneasiness, till 
 Tuesday morning, August 22, when, between 
 seven and eight o'clock, he expired almost 
 without a groan." 
 
 Bb
 
 ( 370 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 JONAS HANWAY. 
 
 A PERSON so disinterested in private life 
 and so religiously concerned for the happiness 
 of others, as was the distinguished Jonas 
 Hanway, demands a place in these memoirs. 
 This excellent man devoted his time, his for- 
 tune, his powers of body and mind, to the 
 service of his fellow-creatures. To improve 
 the morals of the poor, to alleviate their dis- 
 tresses, and to provide for their offspring 
 suitable instruction and useful employment, 
 were objects he had much at heart; and a 
 great part of his life was spent in promoting 
 these benevolent views. It may justly be said 
 of him, that, next to his reverence for the 
 Divine Being, the love of human kind was
 
 JONAS HANWAY. 371 
 
 the strongest feeling of his breast; and that 
 when he had engaged in any office of general 
 benevolence, no obstacles but those which 
 were insuperable, could discourage his active 
 perseverance. 
 
 As he Well knew how much the happiness 
 of the poorer classes of mankind depends on 
 frugality and habitual industry, he studied to 
 promote amongst them virtues so necessary to 
 their condition. It gave him a very sensible 
 pleasure, when any of the numerous objects 
 of his charity, who came to pay him their re- 
 spects, were cleanly and neatly dressed, and 
 appeared with cheerful and contented coun- 
 tenances. He treated them with respect and 
 attention ; entered into their concerns with a 
 paternal affection ; and let them know that, 
 on any real emergency, they might with con- 
 fidence apply to him. It was this, rather 
 than the largeness of his gifts, that endeared 
 him so much to the people. He never walked 
 out but he was followed by the good wishes, 
 silent or expressed, of some to whom he had 
 
 Bb'2
 
 372 JONAS HANWAY. 
 
 afforded relief. To meet the grateful eyes 
 of persons whom he had served, was to him 
 a high enjoyment ; and no one partook of it 
 oftener. 
 
 This benevolent and pious man, through 
 the whole course of his life, remembered that 
 he was an accountable being. He examined 
 his own conduct with the same degree of seve- 
 rity, which men too often adopt in their scru- 
 tiny into the conduct of others ; and consi- 
 dered that the time would come, and might 
 not be far off, when he should reflect with 
 sorrow on every bad action. There are many 
 well-disposed men, who, knowing that death 
 is inevitable, endeavour to banish from their 
 minds the awful thought ; but Hanway seemed 
 to derive a solemn pleasure from indulging 
 the idea. To excite the frequent recollection 
 of his condition and end, he caused to be in- 
 scribed on a plate of brass the following lines, 
 which seem to have been designed as his 
 epitaph, and which he often seriously re- 
 viewed.
 
 JONAS HANWAY. 3 73 
 
 I believe that my Redeemer liveth, 
 
 And that I shall also rise from 
 
 The grave, 
 
 Jonas Hanway ; 
 
 Who, trusting in that good Providence, 
 
 Which so visibly governs the world, 
 Passed through a variety of fortunes with 
 patience. 
 Living the greater part of his days 
 In foreign lands, ruled by arbitrary power, 
 He received the deeper impression 
 Of the happy constitution of his own country; 
 Whilst 
 The persuasive laws contained in the 
 New Testament, 
 And the consciousness of his own depravity, 
 Softened his heart to a sense 
 Of the various wants of his 
 Fellow-creatures. 
 Reader, 
 Inquire no further: 
 The T,ord have mercy on his soul and thine ! 
 Apprehensive of the too partial regard of his friends; and 
 esteeming plain truth above the proudest trophies of monu- 
 mental flattery; at the age of fifty one, he caused this 
 plate and inscription to be made. 
 
 B b 3
 
 374 JONAS HANWAY. 
 
 In the summer of 1786, his health sensibly 
 declined ; and he perceived that he was verging 
 towards that state, which he had often con- 
 templated with solemn complacency. During 
 the progress of a tedious, and sometimes very 
 painful illness, he never expressed the least 
 impatience. When he grew so weak as to 
 be confined to his bed, he requested his 
 physicians to speak frankly, and without re- 
 serve, of his disorder : and when he was con- 
 vinced that he could not recover, he sent and 
 paid all his tradesmen; he took leave of his 
 most intimate friends; dictated some letters 
 to absent acquaintances ; and discoursed con- 
 cerning his affairs with tranquillity, and even 
 with cheerfulness. To his surgeon, who at- 
 tended him with unceasing anxiety, he said, 
 " If you think it will be of service in your 
 practice, or to any one who may come after 
 me, I beg you will have my body opened : 
 I am willing to do as much good as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 He expressed his satisfaction, that his mind 
 had never wandered or been perplexed, in
 
 JONAS HANWAY. 8?a 
 
 any part of his illness. In the morning pre- 
 vious to his death, he said to an intimate friend, 
 " I have no uncomfortable reflections con- 
 cerning my approaching end -, but I find life 
 so strong, that I think I shall not leave the 
 world without a sharp conflict." Soon after 
 this, the disorder increased, and pflt a period 
 to a long and valuable life, spent in pro- 
 moting the glory of God, aftd the good of 
 mankind. 
 
 The following stanzas are worthy of a place, 
 in the character of this truly pious and bene- 
 volent man. 
 
 And thou, blest Hanway ! long thy country's pray'r, 
 Exulting now in kindred worlds above, 
 
 Co-heir of Howard ! deign the muse to hear, 
 
 Though angels greet thee with a brother's love. 
 
 Far though remov'd from this diminish 'd earth, 
 A crown of glory beaming on thy brow, 
 
 The God who fix'd it there to note thy worth, 
 Bids the rapt lyre with all thy spirit glow. 
 
 B b 4
 
 376 JONAS HANWAY. 
 
 Warm in the way, behold what myriads come, 
 
 While tears of ecstasy and anguish flow ! 
 Their blended incense pouring on thy tomb, 
 
 To mark an empire*s joy, an empire's wo. 
 
 Close to thy Howard O congenial shade! 
 
 On the pure column shall thy bust have place; 
 Though deep in ev'ry bosom is portray'd 
 
 Those graceful records time shall ne'er erase, 
 
 The gen'rous plan that public virtue draws. 
 The fair design that charity imparts, 
 
 The genius kindling in Religion's cause, 
 
 Cherish their champion in our faithful hearts. 
 
 Near Hanway's bust the Magdalen shall kneel, 
 A chasten'd votary of Compassion's dome*; 
 
 With pious awe the holiest ardours feel, 
 
 Aud bless the founder of her poaceful home : 
 
 And O, Philanthropy! thy heav'n rear'd fanef 
 Shall oft avow the good man's zeal divine* 
 
 When bounty leads a poor and orphan train 
 To clasp their little arms round Hanway's shrine 
 
 * The Magdalen House, f The Foundling Hospital.
 
 JONAS HANWAY. 377 
 
 Transcendant energies of grace sublime, 
 
 Whose magiG goodness work'd with double pow'r, 
 
 Cradled the outcast babe who knew no crime, 
 And bade the sinner turn and blush no more. 
 
 Ah, full of honours as of years, farewell ! 
 
 Thus o'er thy ashes shall Britannia sigh ; 
 Each age, each sex, thy excellence shall tell, 
 
 Which taught the young to live, the old to die I
 
 ( 378 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 ANTHONY BENEZET. 
 
 ANTHONY BENEZET was born in France, 
 in the year 1713. The persecution, on ac- 
 count of religious opinions, which then existed 
 in that country, induced his parents to leave 
 France. After a residence of many years in 
 London, they and their son, the subject of this 
 memoir, went to America, and settled in 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 He was a man of sound understanding, of 
 great piety, humility, and self-denial, and of 
 a very benevolent disposition. Being desirous 
 of spending his life in a manner the most use- 
 ful to his fellow-creatures, he devoted him- 
 self to the education of youth. In this ar- 
 duous, but truly honourable employment, he 
 passed about forty years; and acquitted him- 
 self very much to the satisfaction of parents
 
 ANTHONY BENEZET. 379 
 
 and children. His great object was, to imbue 
 the minds of his pupils with reverence for reli- 
 gion, and to train them up in a course of 
 virtue. Pecuniary advantages were of small 
 moment in his estimation, of which he gave 
 many striking proofs. A short time before 
 his decease, he declared, in a letter to a 
 friend, that though leisure and retirement 
 would be very agreeable to him, he was well 
 satisfied to remain in his occupation ; and 
 that he knew no other, whatever might be its 
 advantages, for which he would exchange his 
 employment, unless it were a commission to 
 preach and propagate, as a minister, the 
 Gospel of Christ. 
 
 When the school established in Philadel- 
 phia, " for the instruction of black people and 
 their offspring," was suspended, on account 
 of the indisposition of their teacher, he volun- 
 tarily surrendered his own school to other 
 competent persons, and undertook the educa- 
 tion of those people, though, in a pecuniary 
 respect, he lost considerably by the change.
 
 380 ANTHONY BENEZET. 
 
 His humility, and his sympathy with that un- 
 happy race of men, disposed him to think no 
 condescensions degrading, by which he could 
 be peculiarly useful to them : and he was 
 greatly* desirous, that they might be so im- 
 proved in their minds, as to render the 
 freedom which they had lately recovered, a 
 real blessing to themselves, and a benefit to 
 the state. 
 
 He was a friend to the poor and the dis- 
 tressed of every description, and laboured most 
 earnestly for their relief and welfare. It may 
 indeed be said of him, that his whole life was 
 spent in going about doing good to men. He 
 appeared to do every thing, as if the words of 
 his Saviour were continually sounding in his 
 ears : " Wist ye not that I must be about 
 my Father's business ?" He was, as Dr. Rush 
 observed, a man of a truly catholic spirit ; 
 one who loved piety and virtue in others, where - 
 ever he found them - y and who respected all 
 sincere worshipers of God, in whatever man- 
 ner that worship was performed.
 
 ANTHONY BENEZeT. 381 
 
 The miseries of the enslaved Africans, and 
 the great injustice done to them, very deeply* 
 affected his compassionate heart. He pub- 
 lished many tracts on the subject ; supported 
 an extensive correspondence with persons in 
 Europe and America, who were likely to aid 
 his benevolent views ; and exerted himself to 
 the utmost, to ameliorate the condition of the 
 negroes, and to procure the entire abolition 
 of the trade. As he was one of the earliest 
 advocates of these injured men, and indefati- 
 gably pursued his object, we may fairly attri- 
 bute to his labours, with the Divine blessing 
 upon them, a great part of that spirit of in- 
 quiry into their situation, and sympathy with 
 their distresses, which have spread over the 
 world ; and which, we trust, Avill, ere long, 
 destroy this system of inhumanity and in- 
 justice. 
 
 About a year before his decease, his health 
 became much impaired ; but being of a lively 
 disposition, very temperate, and zealously con- 
 cerned to occupy his talents to the last, he 
 supported his school, till he was quite dis-
 
 382 ANTHONY BENEZET. 
 
 abled from performing the duties of it. But 
 his charity and beneficence continued with 
 life. The last time he walked across his room, 
 was to take from his desk six dollars, which he 
 gave to a poor widow whom he had long 
 assisted to maintain. Three hours before his 
 death, he delivered to his executors a number 
 of tracts, in sheets, on religious subjects, with 
 directions for their being bound and dispersed. 
 He devised nearly the whole of his estate, after 
 the decease of his wife, to trustees, for the 
 support and benefit of the Negro school, of 
 which he had been the tutor. And thus, 
 having lived a most useful and exemplary life, 
 he was well prepared for the approach of 
 death. He endured his pains with much 
 patience ; and, with Christian composure of 
 mind, resigned this mortal life, in the firm ex- 
 pectation of a happy immortality. 
 
 The loss of this beneficent man was deeply 
 felt by his fellow-citizens ; and his funeral 
 was attended by a great number of persons of 
 all ranks, and of all religious professions ; and 
 many hundreds of Negroes joined the pro-
 
 ANTHONY BENEZET. 383 
 
 cession. It may justly be said, that " the 
 mourners went about the streets," and that 
 his death was embalmed with tears. An 
 officer, who had served in the American army 
 during the late war, in returning from the 
 funeral, pronounced a striking eulogium upon 
 him. It contained but a few words : " I 
 would rather," said he, " be Anthony Benezet, 
 in that coffin, than the great Washington 
 with all his honours."
 
 ( 384 ) 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 JAMES HERVEY. 
 
 James Hervey, an ingenious and pious 
 clergyman, and a very popular writer, was 
 born at Hardingstone, in Northamptonshire, 
 in the year 1714. He had his education at 
 the free grammar school at Northampton ; 
 and at Lincoln college in Oxford. After a 
 residence of seven years, he left the University - 3 
 and became in 1736, curate to his father, then 
 possessed of the living of Weston-Favell. He 
 was an excellent scholar, being master of the 
 three learned languages, and well read in the 
 classics. 
 
 In 1750, at his father's death, he succeeded 
 to the livings of Weston and Collingtree ; 
 which being within five miles of each other, 
 he attended alternately with his curate, till 
 the ill state of his health confined him to
 
 JAMES HERVEY. SS5 
 
 "Weston. Here he afterwards constantly re- 
 sided, and diligently pursued his labours, both 
 in his ministerial office, and in his study, as 
 long as possible, under the disadvantage of a 
 weak constitution. He did not satisfy him- 
 self with preaching only on the Lord's day; 
 but, whilst his strength permitted him, held 
 a regular lecture in the middle of the week, 
 which was very well attended. He also 
 diligently catechised the children of his 
 parishioners, and was regular in his pastoral 
 visits at their houses, till he was confined to 
 his own, when he encouraged them to come 
 to him, for his friendly and religious advice. 
 By these exertions, as well as the labours of 
 his study, he fell into a decline, attended with 
 an almost incessant hectic cough, and much 
 acute pain, which he supported with most 
 exemplary patience. 
 
 In 1746, he published his Cf Meditations 
 among the Tombs, and Reflections on a 
 Flower-Garden ;" and the following year ap- 
 peared the " Contemplations on the Night 
 and Starry Heavens ; and a "Winter Piece." 
 
 Cc
 
 386 JAMES HEfcVEY, 
 
 The sublime sentiments in these pieces, ate 
 conveyed in a flowing and elegant style. They 
 have been much read ; and are eminently cal- 
 culated to cherish pious and grateful emotions 
 towards the God of nature, and the Source 
 of every blessing. In 1755 he published his 
 " Theron and Aspasio ; or, a Series of Letters 
 and Dialogues on the m6st important sub- 
 jects." He was the author of several other 
 Works, which bear the marks of genius, and 
 of a truly benevolent and religious mind. 
 
 His moral character was highly exemplary j 
 his temper placid, disinterested, unaffectedly 
 humble ; and in his transactions with others-, 
 he was ever cheerful, punctual, just, and 
 candid to persons of every denomination. He 
 sometimes met with very cross occurrences 5 
 but he ever rose above them : he was never 
 known to be in a passion. His humility ren- 
 dered him invulnerable. When he was mis- 
 represented and calumniated, he used to say ; 
 c Our enemies are sometimes our best friends, 
 and tell us useful truths : and then we should 
 amend our faults, and be thankful for such in-
 
 JAMES HERVEY, 387 
 
 formation. If what they say be not true, and 
 spoken from malice only, then such persons 
 are to be considered as diseased in their minds, 
 and ought to be prayed for. They are to be 
 pitied j and I might as justly be angry with 
 men who are diseased in their bodies." All 
 this he spoke with humility, seriousness, and 
 great sweetness of spirit : for it was the 
 language of his heart, and not of affecta- 
 tion. 
 
 In actions of benevolence and charity, though 
 he had some equals, it is certain that he had 
 no superiors, as far as his means extended. 
 He preferred clothing the poor, and supplying 
 them with necessary articles, on the best 
 terms, to giving them money. " I am (said he) 
 God's steward for the poor ; and I must 
 husband the little pittance I have to bestow 
 upon them, and make it go as far as possible." 
 But, on special occasions, when money would 
 be particularly useful, he would give to a 
 prudent housekeeper, distressed by sickness or 
 misfortunes, five or more guineas at a time; 
 and he was, on all proper occasious, careful 
 
 Cc2
 
 38$ JAMES HERVEY. 
 
 that it should not be known from whom the 
 money came. 
 
 By his last will, he bequeathed the future 
 profits of all his works, to benevolent uses ; ex- 
 cepting his " Meditations," the copy of which 
 he sold during his life-time, and applied the 
 sums arising from its sale and former impres- 
 sions, amounting to about seven hundred 
 pounds, to the relief of the poor and distressed. 
 He said that this money was devoted to God ; 
 and that he would, on no account, apply it to 
 worldly uses; that he wrote, not for profit or 
 fame, but to serve the cause of religion : and 
 as Providence had blessed his attempts, he 
 thought himself bound to relieve the distresses 
 of his fellow-creatures, with the product of 
 his labours. 
 
 The cultivation of real religion and holi- 
 ness, in heart and life, which this good man 
 strenuously recommended, induced some per- 
 sons to charge him with holding tenets injurious 
 to society, and calculated to make men melan- 
 choly, and regardless of the lawful concerns
 
 JAMES HERVEY. SS9 
 
 of this world. But every charge of this nature, 
 is abundantly refuted by his writings, and the 
 whole tenour of his life ; and particularly by 
 an excellent and striking passage, in his " Con- 
 templations on the Starry Heavens ;" from 
 which the following lines are extracted. 
 
 " Some, I believe, are apt to imagine, that 
 they must abandon all the satisfactions of this 
 world, if they become zealous candidates for 
 the felicity of another. But this is a very mis- 
 taken notion. Religion was never intended to 
 strike off the wheels of business, or to cut 
 asunder the sinews of industry ; but rather, 
 to make men industrious from a principle of 
 conscience, not from the instigations of ava- 
 rice; that so they may promote their immortal 
 happiness, even while they provide for their 
 temporal maintenance. It has no design to 
 extirpate our passions, but only to restrain 
 their irregularities : neither would it extinguish 
 the delights of sense, but prevent them from 
 evaporating into vanity, and subsiding into gall. 
 A person may be cheerful among his friends, 
 and yet joyful in God. He may taste the 
 
 Cc 3
 
 390 JAMES HERVEY. 
 
 sweets of his earthly estate ; and, at the same 
 time, cherish his hopes of a nobler inheritance 
 in Heaven. " 
 
 Though this sincere Christian was ardent and 
 laborious, in serving his Great Master, and in 
 promoting the religious welfare of his fellow 
 creatures ; yet he had a very humble sense of 
 his own services 5 and expressed to his friends, 
 during his indisposition, great regret that he 
 had not embraced every opportunity afforded 
 him, to advance the cause of his Redeemer. 
 These expressions were made with much ten- 
 derness of spirit, and were accompanied with 
 tears. But lest his sentiments and views should 
 be misinterpreted, he added; " Do not think, 
 that I am afraid to die. I assure you, I am 
 not. I know what my Saviour hath done for 
 me, and I long to be dismissed. But I wonder 
 at the love of Christ, in doing so much for 
 me j and lament to think how little I have 
 done for him." 
 
 On a particular occasion, when his physician 
 was taking his leave, he observed to him, with 
 great affection and sensibility, that as he had,
 
 JAMES HERVEYv 391 
 
 not long before, a. dangerous fall from his horse, 
 by which he was much bruised ; and as he had 
 been lately ill,, and then looked very pale ; he 
 hoped he would reflect on those narrow escapes, 
 so often fatal to others, as a kind of warning 
 from God to him> and remember them as such ; 
 adding, " How careful ought we to be, to im- 
 prove those years which remain, at a time of 
 Ufe, when but few can remain FOR us!" 
 
 The last illness of this truly excellent man 
 commenced in the autumn of the year 1758; 
 and, in a few months, made a great and 
 effecting progress. His strength became ex- 
 hausted, his body extremely emaciated, and 
 his whole frame so sore, that he could scarcely 
 bear to be touched, when it was necessary to 
 move him. Yet, under all this calamity, he 
 was ever praising God for his mercies, and 
 for enduing him with patience. xVbout three 
 hours before his death, he strongly and affec- 
 tionately urged a friend of his who was present, 
 to pay all due attention to the care of his 
 everlasting concerns, as here there is no abiding 
 place, no continuing city. He entreated him 
 not to be overcharged with the cares of this 
 
 Cc 4
 
 392 JAMES HERVEY. 
 
 life ; but to attend, amidst the multiplicity 
 of his business, to the " one thing needful/' 
 The physician observing the great difficulty 
 and pain with which he spoke, (for he was 
 almost suffocated with phlegm and frequent 
 vomitings,) and perceiving, by his pulse, that 
 the pangs of death were coming on, desired 
 that he would spare himself. " No, (said he,) 
 doctor, no. You tell me I have but a few 
 moments to live : Oh ! let me spend them in 
 adoring our great Redeemer."' He then re- 
 peated the 26th verse of the 73d psalm : 
 " Though my flesh and my heart fail me, 
 yet God is the strength of my heart, and 
 my portion for ever:" and he expatiated, in 
 a most striking manner, on these words of the 
 Apostle: " All things are yours, life and death; 
 for ye are Christ's." " Here, (said he,) is the 
 treasure of a Christian. Death is reckoned 
 in this inventory ; and a noble treasure it is. 
 Mow thankful am I for death, as it is the 
 passage through which I go to the Lord and 
 Giver of eternal life ; and as it frees me from 
 all the misery you now see me endure, and 
 which I am willing to endure, as long as God 
 thinks fit : for I know he will, by and by,
 
 JAMES HERVEY. 393 
 
 ill his own good time, dismiss me from the 
 body. These light afflictions are but for a 
 moment, and then comes an eternal weight 
 of glory. O ! welcome, welcome death ! Thou 
 mayst well be reckoned among the treasures 
 of the Christian. To live is Christ, but to 
 die is gain." 
 
 After these expressions, as the doctor was 
 taking his final leave of him, the dying saint 
 expressed great gratitude for his visits and at- 
 tentions, though it had been long out of the 
 power of medicines to cure him. He then 
 paused a little ; and being raised in his chair, 
 he, with great serenity and sweetness of coun- 
 tenance, though the pangs of death were upon 
 him, repeated these words ; " Lord, now lettest 
 thou thy servant depart in peace, according 
 to thy most holy and comfortable word, for 
 mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 
 
 In about an hour after he had uttered these 
 expressions, he yielded up his pious soul to 
 God, without a sigh or struggle, in the forty 
 fifth year of his aae.
 
 ( 394 ) 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 ALTAMONT; 
 
 OR, THE DEATH OF THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 The following account of an affecting, mourn- 
 ful exit, and the reflections that accompany 
 it, are solemn and impressive. We shall pre- 
 sent them to the reader, in the words of Doctor 
 Young, who was present at the melancholy 
 ecene. 
 
 *' Is not the death-bed of a profligate a prime 
 school of wisdom ? Are we not obliged, when 
 w 7 e are invited to it? for what else should re- 
 claim us? The pulpit? We are prejudiced 
 against it. Besides, an agonizing profligate, 
 though silent, out-preaches the most celebrated 
 the pulpit ever knew. But, if he speaks, his 
 words might instruct the best instructers of 
 mankind. Mixed in the warm converse of 
 life, we think with men; on a death-bed, 
 with God.
 
 ALTAMONT. 395 
 
 f< There are two lessons of this school written, 
 as it were, in capitals, which they who run 
 may read. First, he that, in this his minority, 
 this field of discipline and conflict, instead of 
 grasping the weapons of his warfare, is for ever 
 gathering flowers, and catching at butterflies, 
 with his unarmed hand, ever making idle plea- 
 sure his pursuit; must pay for it his vast re- 
 version : and on opening his final account, (of 
 which a death -bed breaks the seal,) shall find 
 himself a beggar, a beggar past beggary; and 
 shall passionately wish that his very being 
 were added to the rest of his loss. Secondly, 
 he shall find, that truth, divine truth, however, 
 through life, injured, wounded, suppressed, is 
 victorious, immortal : that, though with moun- 
 tains overwhelmed, it will, one day, burst out 
 like the fires of Etna ; visible, bright, and tor- 
 menting, as the most raging flame. This now 
 (O, my friend !) I shall too plainly prove. 
 
 " The sad evening before the death of the 
 noble youth, whose last hours suggested these 
 thoughts, I was with him. No one was pre- 
 sent but his physician, and an intimate whom
 
 S96 ALTAMONT. 
 
 he loved, and whom he had ruined. At my 
 coming in, he said ; * You and the physician 
 are come too late. I have neither life nor 
 hope. You both aim at miracles. You would 
 raise the dead ! ' Heaven, I said, was merciful 
 
 Or,' exclaimed he, ' I could not have been 
 
 thus guilty. What has it not done to bless, 
 and to save me ! I have been too strong for 
 Omnipotence ! I have plucked down ruin.' 
 I said, the blessed Redeemer, Hold ! hold ! 
 you wound me ! That is the rock on which 
 I split : I denied his name ! ' 
 
 " Refusing to hear any thing from me, or 
 take any thing from the physician, he lay 
 silent, as far as sudden darts of pain would 
 permit, till the clock struck : then with vehe- 
 mence he exclaimed ; f Oh ! time ! time ! it is 
 fit thou shouldst thus strike thy murderer to 
 the heart! How art thou fled for ever! A 
 month ! Oh, for a single week ! I ask not 
 for years; though an age were too little for 
 the much I have to do.' On my saying, we 
 could not do too much : that heaven was a 
 blessed place < So much the worse. ( Tis lost !
 
 ALTAMONT. 397 
 
 'tis lost! Heaven is to me the severest place 
 of hell ! ' 
 
 V 
 
 " Soon after, I proposed prayer, ' Pray you 
 that can. I never prayed. I cannot pray 
 nor need I. Is not heaven on my side already ? 
 It closes with my conscience. Its severest 
 strokes but second my own.' Observing that 
 his friend was much touched at this, even to 
 tears (who could forbear ? I could not ) 
 with a most affectionate look, he said, " Keep 
 those tears for thyself. I have undone thee. 
 Dost thou weep for me? that is cruel. What 
 can pain me more ? ' 
 
 " Here his friend, too much affected, would 
 have left him. ' No, stay thou still mayst 
 hope ; therefore hear me. How madly have 
 I talk'd ! How madly hast thou listened, and 
 believed ! but look on my present state, as a 
 full answer to thee, and to myself. This body 
 is all weakness and pain ; but my soul, as if 
 stung up by torment to greater strength and 
 spirit, is full powerful to reason ; full mighty 
 to suffer. And that which thus triumphs within
 
 S98 ALTAItONt\ 
 
 the jaws of immortality, is, doubtless, immortal 
 And, as for a Deity, nothing less than an 
 Almighty could inflict what I feel.* 
 
 " I was about to congratulate this passive 
 involuntary confessor, on his asserting the two 
 prime articles of his creed, extorted by the 
 rack of nature, when he thus, very passion- 
 ately exclaimed: ' No, no! let me speak on. 
 I have not long to speak. My much injured 
 friend ! my soul, as my body, lies in ruins ; 
 m scattered fragments of broken thought- 
 Remorse for the past, throws my thought on 
 the future. Worse dread of the future, strikes 
 it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and 
 find no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain 
 that is on me, thou wouldst struggle with the 
 martyr for his stake ; and bless Heaven for the 
 flames! that is not an everlasting flame -, that 
 is not an unquenchable fire. 
 
 " How were we struck I yet, soon after, still 
 more. With what an eye of distraction, what 
 a face of despair, he cried out ! c My prin- 
 ciples have poisoned my friend ; my extra*
 
 A1TAM0NT. 399 
 
 vagance has beggared my boy 1 my unkindness 
 has murdered my wife ! And is there another 
 hell? Oh! thou blasphemed, yet indulgent 
 LOKD GOd! hell itself is a refuge, if it hide 
 me from thy frown!' Soon after, his under- 
 standing failed. His terrified imagination 'ut- 
 tered horrors not to be repeated, or -ever for- 
 gotten. And ere the sun (which, I hope, has 
 seen few like him) arose, the gay, young, noble, 
 ingenious, accomplished, and most wretched 
 Altamont expired ! 
 
 " If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man 
 of pain ? How quick, how total, is the transit 
 of such persons ! In what a dismal gloom they 
 set for ever ! How short, alas ! the day of their 
 rejoicing ! For a moment they glitter they 
 dazzle ! In a moment where are they ? Obli- 
 vion covers their memories. Ah ! would it did ! 
 Infamy snatches them from oblivion. In the 
 long-living annals of infamy their triumphs are 
 recorded. Thy sufferings, poor Altamont ! still 
 bleed in the bosom of the heart- stricken friend 
 for Altamont had a friend. He might have had 
 many. His transient morning might have been
 
 400 ALTAMONT. 
 
 the dawn of an immortal day. His name might 
 have been gloriously enrolled in the records of 
 eternity. His memory might have left a sweet 
 fragrance behind it, grateful to the surviving 
 friend, salutary to the succeeding generation. 
 With what capacity was he endowed I with 
 what advantages, for being greatly good ! But 
 with the talents of an angel, a man may be 
 a fool. If he judges amiss in the supreme 
 I int, judging right in all else, but aggravates 
 h\? folly j as it shows him wrong, though 
 I ^sed with the best capacity of being right.
 
 ( 401 ) 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BARON HALLEIt JOHN HOWARD NEWTOn's LETTERS 
 
 ZIMMERMAN JAMES HAY BEATTIE SIR WILLIAM JONES 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 BARON HALLER. 
 
 Albert Haller, one of the most illustrious 
 literary characters of his age, was the son of 
 a citizen and advocate of Berne, where he 
 was born in the year 1708. The accounts 
 of his early display of talents, are as extra- 
 ordinary as almost any upon record. lie chose 
 the medical profession, in which he became 
 very eminent. I le was an anatomist, a physi- 
 ologist, and a botanist, of the first order. It is 
 not too much to say of him, that he was one 
 f the best informed men in Europe. He wrote 
 
 Dd
 
 402 BARON HALLER. 
 
 and spoke, witli equal facility, the German, 
 French, and Latin languages; and read all 
 the other tongues of civilized Europe, except 
 the Sclavonic dialects. His acquaintance with 
 books was so extensive, that it would be diffi- 
 cult to point out any of the least note, which 
 he had not perused, and of which the contents 
 did not dwell upon his memory. He was a 
 poet too of distinguished merit. The critics 
 of Germany reckon Haller among the first 
 who gave sublimity, richness, and harmony, 
 to their poetical language; and who described 
 nature in its true colours. 
 
 The talents and knowledge of Haller, his 
 works in various departments of science and 
 literature, and his unblemished integrity and 
 virtue, rendered him, in the highest degree, 
 respectable among the learned of Europe; and 
 his friendship and correspondence were courted 
 by the most celebrated men of his time. He 
 was professor of medicine in the university of 
 Gottingen. lie filled successively the botanical, 
 chemical, and anatomical chairs; and raised 
 the reputation of the university, to a very high
 
 Mron iialler. 403 
 
 pitch. There he resided near seventeen years 3 
 and then returned to Berne, his native place, 
 where he was elected a member of the sovereign 
 council ; and enjoyed the first authority in 
 the administration of public affairs, till the 
 time of his death, which took place in the 
 year 1777. 
 
 This great and good man, in the early part 
 of his life, had doubts concerning the objects 
 of the Christian faith. But these doubts were 
 dispelled, by a successful application to every 
 branch of science, on the one hand ; and by 
 a candid examination of the sacred oracles, on 
 the other. The first, by purging his soul, 
 according to his own emphatic phrase, of 
 arrogance and pride, filled it with true 
 poverty of spirit. The second convinced him 
 that the Divine revelation, conveyed in the 
 holy scriptures, is a boon worthy of the 
 merciful Author of our nature to give ; 
 and such as is fit for guilty mortals to 
 receive, with humble gratitude and rever- 
 ence. 
 
 Dd 2
 
 404 BARON HALLER. 
 
 There are hours of mental depression in 
 human life, which can neither be prevented 
 nor remedied, by the most prosperous worldly- 
 circumstances, or by the greatest skill of man. 
 The healing art, which Haller applied with 
 singular success to the diseases of the body, 
 could not, as he experienced in his own case, 
 reach that dissatisfaction with the present, 
 and that apprehension of a future state, which 
 so frequently disturb the breasts of mankind. 
 But he found other aids, which proved a 
 sovereign remedy to all his fears and depres- 
 sions. The Divine laws were to him a de- 
 lightful subject of attention, and a joyful ob- 
 ject of hope. His confidence in the goodness 
 of God, refreshed his mind ; and so fortified it, 
 that he contemplated, without dismay, the 
 king of terrors. 
 
 The consolations which he felt himself, he 
 was anxious to impart to others. In imitation 
 of the Saviour of the world, he went about 
 doing good to the souls and the bodies of men. 
 He eagerly seized the numberless opportunities,
 
 BARON HALLE R. 4(0 
 
 which his profession sis a physician gave him, 
 of convincing those with whom he conversed, 
 of the truth, and of converting them to the 
 practice, of the Christian religion. And this 
 he did, not only by his instructions, but by 
 his example. For he was charitable to the 
 poor ; he sympathized in the tenderest manner 
 with the distressed ; and was humane and 
 just in all his dealings with the sons of 
 men. 
 
 A thousand incidents, which passed un- 
 heeded by the vulgar eye, recalled to his 
 mind the Deity. And when he recollected 
 or heard that great na?ne, he gave way, in 
 whatever company or circumstances he hap- 
 pened to be placed, to some pious ejacula- 
 tions, with his eyes and hands lifted up to- 
 wards heaven. 
 
 While his feeling mind embraced in the bonds 
 of love all his fellow-creatures, and interested 
 him in their present and future concerns, 
 there was one person, whom God and nature 
 had recommended to his peculiar tenderness 
 
 D d 3
 
 406 BARON HALLER. 
 
 and care. He had a daughter, dear to him 
 as his own soul. He knew the inquietudes, 
 to which the common lot of humanity would 
 subject her through life ; and the fears that 
 would alarm her tender breast at the ap- 
 proach of death, of which it was some con- 
 solation to him, that " he should not live to 
 be the mournful witness." To her he ad- 
 dressed, at different times, but in a regular 
 succession, a number of letters, on the truths 
 of the Christian Religion. They were after- 
 wards, by his permission, published for the 
 benefit of the world at large. The work 
 possesses great merit ; and is particularly 
 proper for the perusal and study of young 
 persons. 
 
 We shall conclude our account of baron 
 Haller, with an extract from the last letter 
 contained in the publication just mentioned. 
 It marks the writer's high sense of the im- 
 portance of religion ; his solicitude for his 
 daughter's happiness ; and his strong con- 
 fidence in the future rewards of piety and 
 virtue.
 
 BARON HALLER. 40? 
 
 " Let us employ the time that is present : 
 eternity will be our reward, if we make a 
 good use of it. Let us always have before 
 our eyes, the nature and consequences of sin : 
 let us remember that it will deprive us of the 
 favour of God, and expose us to his displea- 
 sure. Reflect on the value of that life and 
 immortality, which Christ hath brought to 
 light by the gospel. The enjoyments of this 
 present short life, which are indeed but puerile 
 amusements, must disappear, when placed in 
 competition with the greatness and durability 
 of the glory which is to come. 
 
 " By the mercy of God, we are restored from 
 the lowest state of abasement and dejection. 
 \Ve are animated with the most comfortable 
 promises. We now walk with confidence in 
 that road, which has been marked out for us 
 with so much wisdom ; and which so well 
 corresponds with our new desires and abi- 
 lities. We leave behind us those vices which 
 tended to estrange us from God and happiness : 
 before us is a benevolent Being, who offers to 
 the victorious, incorruptible crowns, as the 
 
 D d 4
 
 408 BARON HAULER. 
 
 recompense of victory; which victory he also 
 helps us to gain. We may now rest satisfied 
 with respect to our future condition, without 
 perplexing ourselves about the trials we shall 
 have to undergo, and which are yet at a dis- 
 tance. Let us be careful to employ to ad- 
 vantage the present hour. The means of sal- 
 vation, the sacred writings, the precepts of 
 our Saviour, are in our hands. We insensibly 
 draw near to the desired harbour : the ap- 
 proaches of dissolution become less formidable, 
 the nearer we advance to the happy mansions 
 of eternity, where error and vice will be dis- 
 armed, and Lave no more power over us. 
 
 " Receive, my daughter, these most important 
 of all truths, from a father, who considers him- 
 self on the verge of life : they are the most 
 precious marks of tenderness which he can 
 give you. These instructions would have been 
 less imperfect, if his capacity had been more 
 extensive. They are, however, the result of 
 his reflections, and of the researches which he 
 has made after truth : they are also the effect 
 of his internal conviction. Your father, who
 
 BARON HALLER. 409 
 
 now addresses you, has had his doubts : he 
 has sometimes been mistaken ; and has wished, 
 in those moments, that the consequences of 
 sin were not so grievous. lie has not been 
 exempt from falling : but the victorious grace 
 of God has kindly come to his relief. The 
 king of terrors approaches me with hasty steps : 
 but I behold his advances without dismay. 
 Beyond that era of my existence, I see ob- 
 jects of joy and hope, which invite me to leave 
 this world, and to step forward into eternity; 
 into mansions of holiness and bliss, where death 
 shall be banished for ever, and where sin shall 
 have no place. After having finished your 
 course, you will, I trust, again meet your 
 father, in those glorious and peaceful abodes, 
 where the idea of our frail mortality shall no 
 longer disturb our breasts, or fill them with 
 shame ; and where the miseries of this life shall 
 no longer draw tears from our eyes."
 
 ( 410 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 JOHN HOWARD. 
 
 John Howard, the indefatigable friend of 
 the poor and the unfortunate, was born at 
 Hackney, in the year 1726. Of his character 
 and pious labours, Dr. Aikin speaks in the fol- 
 lowing terms. 
 
 " Among those truly illustrious persons 
 who, in the several ages and nations of the 
 world, have marked their track through life, 
 by a continued course of doing good, few have 
 been so distinguished, either by the extent of 
 the good produced, or by the purity of motive 
 and energy of character exhibited in the process 
 of doing it, as the late John Howard. To 
 have adopted the cause of the prisoner, the 
 sick, and the destitute, not only in his own 
 country, but throughout Europe; to have 
 considerably alleviated the burden of present
 
 JOHN HOWARD. 411 
 
 misery among those unfortunate classes, and 
 at the same time to have 'provided for the re- 
 formation of the vicious, and the prevention of 
 future crimes and calamities; to have been 
 instrumental in the actual establishment of 
 many plans of humanity and utility, and to 
 have laid the foundation for much more im- 
 provement hereafter ; and to have done all 
 this as a private, unaided individual, struggling 
 with toils, dangers, and difficulties, which 
 might have appalled the most resolute ; is 
 surely a range of beneficence, which scarcely 
 ever before came within the compass of one 
 man's exertions." 
 
 Attachment to religion was a principle 
 which had been imbibed by Howard in his 
 youth; and which continued steady and uniform 
 through life. Though he seems carlv to have 
 made up his mind as to the doctrines he thought 
 best founded, and the mode of worship he most 
 approved, yet religion abstractedly considered, 
 as the relation between man and his Maker, 
 and the grand support of morality, appears to 
 have been the principal object of his regard.
 
 412 JOHN HOWARD. 
 
 This excellent principle enlarged his heart, and 
 led him to commiserate the distresses of his 
 fellow-creatures of every description ; and at 
 length prompted him to devote his life to the 
 relief of suffering humanity. 
 
 Deeply impressed with a sense of the im- 
 portance of his designs, and of the uncertainty 
 of human life, he was desirous of doing as 
 much as possible within the allotted limits. 
 And the number of prisons and hospitals which 
 he visited, in a short period of time, is sur- 
 prising. The pious and well-governed disposi- 
 tion by which he was actuated, is forcibly 
 expressed in the following passage, extracted 
 from one of his interesting publications. 
 
 " To my country I commit the result of 
 my past labours. It is my intention again to 
 quit it, for the purpose of revisiting Russia, 
 Turkey, and some other countries, and extend- 
 ing my tour in the east. I am not insensible 
 of the dangers that must attend such a journey. 
 Trusting, however, in the protection of that 
 kind Providence which has hitherto preserved
 
 JOHN HOWARD. 413 
 
 me, I calmly and cheerfully commit myself to 
 the disposal of unerring Wisdom. Should it 
 please God to cut off my life in the prosecution 
 of this design, let not my conduct be uncan- 
 didly imputed to rashness or enthusiasm : but 
 to a serious, deliberate conviction, that I am 
 pursuing the path of duty; and to a sincere 
 desire of being made an instrument of greater 
 usefulness to my fellow-creatures, than could 
 be expected in the narrow circle of a retired 
 life." 
 
 A little before the last time of his leaving 
 England, when a friend expressed his concern 
 at parting with him, from an apprehension 
 that they should never meet again, he cheer- 
 fully replied ; " AVe shall soon meet in heaven:" 
 and, as he rather expected to die of the plague 
 in Egypt, he added, " The way to heaven from 
 Grand Cairo, is as near as from London." He 
 said he was perfectly easy as to the event ; and 
 made use of the words of Father Paul, who, 
 when his physicians told him he had not long 
 to live, said ; " It is well ; whatever pleases 
 God, pleases mc."
 
 414 JOHN HOWARD. 
 
 That in his singular and extensive course 
 of beneficence, he was not influenced by a 
 desire of attracting the notice, or gaining the 
 applause, of his fellow-creatures, appears from 
 his general life and conduct j and is particu- 
 larly evident, from the spirit and firmness with 
 which he opposed the design, formed by many 
 persons of distinction in this country, to erect 
 a statue, or some other monument, to his 
 honour. 
 
 The following passages are selected from 
 some of his letters on this subject. " To 
 hasten to the other very distressing affair 5 O, 
 why could not my friends, who know how 
 much I detest such parade, have stopped so 
 hasty a measure ! As a private man, with 
 some peculiarities, I wished to retire into 
 obscurity and silence. Indeed, my friend, I 
 cannot bear the thought of being thus dragged 
 out. I immediately wrote ; and I hope some- 
 thing may be done to stop it. My best friends 
 must disapprove the measure. It deranges and 
 confounds all my schemes ; my exaltation is 
 my fall, my misfortune. My best and most
 
 JOHN HOWARD. 415 
 
 intimate friends have, I see by the papers, 
 been so kind as not to subscribe to what you 
 so justly term a hasty measure. Indeed, if 
 nothing now can be done, I speak from my 
 heart, never poor creature was more dragged 
 out in public." That in all this there was 
 no affectation, clearly appeared from the letter 
 he sent to the subscribers ; in which, after 
 expressing his gratitude, he displayed so de- 
 termined a repugnance against admitting the 
 proposed honour, deprecating it as the severest 
 of punishments, that nothing could be urged 
 in reply, and the business was dropped. 
 
 Whilst this great and good man was ardently 
 labouring for the relief of distress, it pleased 
 Divine Providence to suffer him to fall a victim 
 to a disease, supposed to be the plague, at 
 Cherson, in the beginning of the year 1790. 
 lie was perfectly sensible, during his illness, 
 except at short intervals, till within a very few 
 hours before his death. lie was fully prepared 
 for the event, and often said, that he had no 
 wish for life, but as it gave him the means of 
 relieving his fellow-creatures.
 
 416 JOHN HOWARD. 
 
 A celebrated orator* has passed so fine a 
 eulogium on the character of this excellent 
 man, that we insert it with particular satis- 
 faction. 
 
 " I cannot name this gentleman without 
 remarking, that his labours and writings have 
 done much to open the eyes and hearts of 
 mankind. He has visited all Europe j not to 
 survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the 
 stateliness of temples ; not to make accurate 
 measurements of the remains of ancient gran- 
 deur, nor to form a scale of the curiosity of 
 modern art, nor to collect medals, or collate 
 manuscripts : but to dive into the depths of 
 dungeons ; to plunge into the infection of 
 hospitals; to survey the mansions of sorrow 
 and pain ; to take the gage and dimensions 
 of misery, depression, and contempt ; to re- 
 member the forgotten, to attend to the neg- 
 lected, to visit the forsaken, and compare and 
 collate the distresses of all men in all countries. 
 
 * Burke.
 
 JOHN HOWARD. 417 
 
 His plan is original : it is as full of genius as 
 it is of humanity. It was a voyage of dis- 
 covery ; a circumnavigation of charity. Al- 
 ready the benefit of his labour is felt more or 
 less in every country : I hope he will anticipate 
 his final reward, by seeing all its effects fully 
 realized in his own." 
 
 We shall conclude the account of this bene- 
 volent man, with a few beautiful lines, written 
 on his death by Dr. Aikin. 
 
 Howard ! thy task is done ! thy Master calls ; 
 
 And summons thee from Cherson'g distant walls. 
 
 " Come, well-approv'd ! my faithful servant, come ! 
 
 No more a wand'rer, seek thy destin'd home. 
 
 Long have I mark'd thee, with o'er-ruling eye, 
 
 And sent admiring angels from on high, 
 
 To walk the paths of danger by thy side, 
 
 From death to shield thee, and through snares to guide. 
 
 My Minister of good, I've sped thy way, 
 
 And shot through dungeon glooms a leading ray, 
 
 To cheer by thee, with kind unhop'd relief, 
 
 My creatures lost and whelm'd in guilt and grief. 
 
 Ee
 
 4l'& JOHX HOWARH. 
 
 I've led thee, ardent, on through wond'ring dimes, 
 To combat human woes and human crimes. 
 But 'tis enough! thy great commission's o'er; 
 I prove thy faith, thy love, thy zeal, no more. 
 Nor droop, that far from country, kindred, friends, 
 Thy life, to duty long devoted, ends: 
 What boots it ixhere the high reward is giv'm 
 Or whence the soul triumphant springs to heav'n," 
 
 Dr. Aikin has written a judicious and interesting account of Jolia 
 Howard, under the title of, " A view of the character of John Howard, 
 esq." to which we refer the reader for farther information, respectins 
 this truly pious and worthy man.
 
 ( 4*9 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 NEWTON'S LETTERS* 
 
 The following interesting examples of the 
 power of religion, on the minds of persons in 
 humble life, are extracted from a work en- 
 titled, " Cardiphonia, or, the utterance of the 
 heart *." 
 
 " Though the grand evidence of those 
 truths upon which our hopes are built, arises 
 from the authority of God declaring them in 
 his Word, and revealing them by his Spirit to 
 the awakened heart ; (for till the heart is 
 awakened it is incapable of receiving this evi- 
 dence ;) yet some of these truths are so myste- 
 rious, so utterly repugnant to the judgment of 
 depraved nature, that through the remaining 
 
 * By John Newton, Rector of St. Mary, Woolnoth, 
 
 London, 
 
 Ee2
 
 420 NEWTON'S LETTERS. 
 
 influence of unbelief and vain reasoning; the 
 temptations of Satan, and the subtle arguments 
 with which some men, reputed wise, attack 
 the foundations of our faith, the minds even 
 of believers are sometimes capable of being 
 shaken. I know no better corroborating evi- 
 dence, for the relief, of the mind under such 
 assaults, than the testimony of dying persons * 
 especially of such as have lived out of the noise 
 of controversy, and who, perhaps, never heard 
 a syllable of what has been started in these 
 evil days, against some of the important ar- 
 ticles of the Christian Faith. 
 
 Permit me, my lord, to relate, upon this 
 occasion, some things which exceedingly struck 
 me, in the conversation I had with a young 
 woman, whom I visited in her last illness about 
 two years ago. She was a sober, prudent 
 person, of plain sense ; she could read the 
 Bible, but had read little besides. Her know- 
 ledge of the world was nearly confined to the 
 parish ; for I suppose she was seldom, if ever, 
 twelve miles from home. She had known the 
 Gospel about seven years before the Lord
 
 NEWTON'S LETTERS. 42 1 
 
 visited her with a lingering consumption, which, 
 at length, removed her to a better world. A 
 few days previous to her death, in prayer by 
 her bed-side, I thanked the Lord, that he gave 
 her now to see that she had not followed 
 cunningly devised fables. When I had finished, 
 she repeated that expression : * No,' said she, 
 ' not cunningly devised fables ; these are reali- 
 ties indeed ; I feel their truth ; I feel their 
 comfort. O, tell my friends, tell my acquaint- 
 ance, tell inquiring souls, tell poor sinners, tell 
 all the daughters of Jerusalem,' (alluding to 
 Solomon's Song,) * What Jesus has done for 
 my soul ! Tell them, that now, in the time of 
 need, I find him my Beloved, and my Friend j 
 and, as such, I commend him to them,' " 
 
 She then fixed her eyes steadfastly upon 
 me, and proceeded, to the best of my recol- 
 lection, as follows : ' Sir, you are highly fa- 
 voured, in being called to preach the Gospel. 
 I have often heard you with pleasure ; but give 
 me leave to tell you, that I now see all you 
 have said, or that you can say, is comparatively 
 but little. Nor till you come into my situation, 
 
 E e J
 
 422 NEWTON'S LETTERS, 
 
 and have death and eternity fall in your view, 
 will it be possible for you to conceive the vast 
 weight and importance of the truths you de- 
 clare. Oh! sir, it is a serious thing to die; 
 no words can express what is needful to sup- 
 port the soul in the solemnity of a dying 
 hour.' 
 
 " When I visited her again, she said; f I feel 
 that my hope is fixed upon the Rock of Ages : 
 I know in whom I have believed. But the 
 approach of death presents a prospect which 
 is, till then, hidden from us, and which cannot 
 be described.' She said much more to the 
 same purpose : and in all she spoke there 
 were dignity, weight, and evidence. We may 
 well say, with Elihu, < Who teacheth like the 
 Lord !' 
 
 " Many instances of the like kind I have met 
 with here. I have a poor girl near me, whose 
 natural capacity is very small ; but the Lord 
 has been pleased to make her acquainted alter- 
 nately with great temptations, and proportion- 
 ably great discoveries of his love and truth \
 
 NEWTON'S LETTERS. 423 
 
 sometimes, when her heart is enlarged, I listen 
 to her with astonishment. I think no books 
 or ministers I ever met with, have given me 
 such an impression and understanding of what 
 the Apostle styles, * the deep things of God,' 
 as I have, upon some occasions, received from 
 her conversation. 
 
 " We have lost another of the people here : 
 a person of much experience, eminent grace, 
 wisdom, and usefulness. She walked with God 
 forty years. She was one of the Lord's poor ; 
 but her poverty was decent, sanctified, and 
 honourable. She lived respected, and her death 
 is considered as a public loss. It is a great 
 loss to me ; I shall miss her advice and example, 
 by which I have been often edified and ani- 
 mated. Almost the last words she uttered 
 were, * The Lord is my portion, saith my 
 soul.' 
 
 " Mv attendance upon the sick is not always 
 equally comfortable; but could I learn arisrbt, 
 it might be equally instructive. Some confirm 
 to me the preciousness of a Saviour, by the 
 
 Ke i
 
 424 NEWTON'S LETTERS. 
 
 cheerfulness with which, through faith in his 
 name, they meet the king of terrors. Others 
 no less confirm it, by the terror and reluctance 
 they discover, when they find they must die. 
 For though there are too many who sadly 
 slight the blessed Gospel, while they are in 
 health, yet, in this place, most are too far 
 enlightened to be quite thoughtless about their 
 souls, in their last illness, if they retain their 
 senses. Then, like the foolish virgins, they say, 
 ' Give us of your oil ! ' 
 
 * c Through the Lord's goodness, several whom 
 I have visited in these circumstances, have 
 afforded me a comfortable hope. I have seen 
 a marvellous and blessed change take place, 
 in a few days, in their language, views, and 
 temper. I now visit a young person, who is 
 cut short in her nineteenth year, by a con- 
 sumption, and who I think cannot live many 
 days. I found her very ignorant and insen- 
 sible, and she remained so a good while; but 
 of late, I hope, her heart is touched. She 
 feels her lost state; she seems to have some 
 right desires ; and I cannot but think the Lord
 
 NEWTON'S LETTERS. 425 
 
 is teaching her, and will reveal himself to her 
 before she departs. 
 
 " But the scene is sometimes different. I 
 saw a young woman die the last week. I had 
 been often with her; but the night she was 
 removed, she could only say, c O, I cannot 
 live ! I cannot live !' She repeated this mourn- 
 ful complaint as long as she could speak : for 
 as the vital powers were more oppressed, her 
 voice was changed into groans; her groans 
 grew fainter and fainter ; and in about a quarter 
 of an hour after she had done speaking, she 
 expired. Poor creature! said I to myself, as 
 I stood by her bed-side, if you were a duchess, 
 in this situation, what could the world do for 
 you now! I thought likewise, how many things 
 are there that now give us pleasure or pain, 
 and assume a mighty importance in our view, 
 which, in a dying hour, will be no more to 
 us, than the clouds that fly unnoticed over 
 our heads. Then the truth of our Lord's de- 
 claration will be seen, fell, and acknowledged; 
 * One thing is needful.' And we shall be 
 ready to apply Grotius's dying confession to a
 
 426 newton's letters. 
 
 great part of our lives: 'Ah! I have con- 
 sumed my time, in laboriously doing nothing !' " 
 
 How greatly does it exalt the mercy and 
 goodness of the universal Parent of mankind, 
 to perceive that his regard is equally towards 
 his children and people, whatever may be their 
 stations and conditions in the world ! To the 
 poor and illiterate, as well as to the rich and 
 learned, the Gospel is preached; and those 
 of every class who become truly humble and 
 poor in spirit, and those only, will cordially 
 receive and rejoice in it. Learning and know- 
 ledge are, indeed, ornaments and improvements 
 of our nature ; and, as well as riches, rank, and 
 influence, enable us to enlarge the sphere of 
 our utility and beneficence : but it is not hence 
 to be inferred, either that these qualifications 
 are not attended with peculiar dangers, temp- 
 tations, and inquietudes, or that the Father of 
 Spirits, who is just and equal in all his ways, 
 regards their possessors with distinguished marks 
 of his favour. The wisdom of Providence, to 
 promote order and government in the earth, 
 has, indeed, ordained a diversity of talents and
 
 NEWTON'S LETTERS. 427 
 
 conditions amongst men; but he has also gra- 
 ciously declared, that to the religious and 
 faithful improvement, even of the fewest talents, 
 shall be annexed the highest reward that can 
 be conferred upon us; namely, that of ' Well 
 done, good and faithful servant; enter thou 
 into the joy of thy Lord.' A humble and 
 teachable disposition, a pious, upright, and 
 benevolent temper of mind, are incomparably 
 of greater worth, than all the accomplishments 
 and possessions of the world ; and they are 
 the only attainments which, in all degrees of 
 knowledge, and in every station and condition 
 of life, will procure the Divine favour, and 
 advance us to real honour and happiness.
 
 ( 428 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 ZIMMERMAN. 
 
 The following tribute to the memory of a 
 beloved daughter, was written by Doctor Zim- 
 merman ; and marks the piety of his own mind, 
 as well as the influence of religion on the ami- 
 able subject of his sorrow. 
 
 " May I be permitted here to give a short 
 account of a young person, whose memory 
 I am extremely anxious to preserve ? The 
 world was unacquainted with her excellence ; 
 she was known to those only whom she has 
 left behind to bewail her loss. Her sole plea- 
 sures were those which a retired and virtuous 
 life affords. She was active, invariably mild, 
 and always compassionate to the miseries of 
 others. Diffident of her own powers, she re- 
 lied with perfect confidence on the goodness 
 of God, and listened attentively to the precepts 
 of a fond parent. Taught by my experience,
 
 ZIMMERMAN". 429 
 
 submitting to my judgment, she entertained 
 for me the most ardent affection; and con- 
 vinced me, not by professions, but by actions, 
 of her sincerity. Willingly would I have re- 
 signed my life to have saved hers ; and I am 
 satisfied that she would cheerfully have given 
 up her own, to preserve mine. One of my 
 greatest pleasures was, to please her; and my 
 endeavours for that purpose were most grate- 
 fully returned. She gave many proofs of this 
 kind and amiable temper: but I shall mention 
 one, which, though small in itself, was pecu- 
 liarly pleasing to me. She frequently presented 
 me with a rose, which she knew was mv 
 favourite flower. I ever received it from her 
 hand with delight, and preserved it as a rich 
 treasure. 
 
 " From her earliest infancy, she had been 
 the submissive victim of ill health. But though 
 of a weak frame of body, and very deeply 
 afflicted, she bore her sufferings with steady 
 fortitude, and pious resignation to the dispen- 
 sations of Heaven. Her appetite was almost 
 gone, when we left Swisserland; a residence
 
 430 ZIMMERMAN. 
 
 which, though peculiarly endeared to her, she 
 quitted with her usual sweetness of temper, 
 and without discovering the smallest regret. 
 Soon after our arrival at Hanover, she fell into 
 a deep decline, which, at length, terminated 
 in a hemorrhage of the lungs, of a very un- 
 common nature, that soon deprived me of the 
 comfort of this beloved child. From the know- 
 ledge I had of her constitution, I apprehended 
 that the disorder would prove mortal. How 
 frequently, during that fatal day, did my 
 wounded, bleeding heart, bend me on my knees 
 before God, to supplicate for her recovery ! 
 But I concealed my feelings from her obser- 
 vation. Although sensible of her danger, she 
 never discovered the least apprehension. Smiles 
 played around her pallid cheeks, whenever I 
 entered or quitted the room. Though worn 
 down by the fatal distemper, a prey to the most 
 corroding sorrows, the sharpest and most afflict- 
 ing pains, she made no complaint. She mildly 
 answered all my questions, by some short sen- 
 tence, without entering into any detail. Her 
 decay and impending dissolution became ob- 
 vious to the eye; but to the last moment of
 
 ZIMMERMAN. 431, 
 
 her life, her countenance preserved a serenity 
 correspondent to the purity of her mind, and 
 the tender emotions of her heart. Thus I 
 beheld my dear, my only daughter, at the age 
 of five-and-twenty, after a tedious suffering of 
 nine long months, expire in my arms. 
 
 " During the short time we passed at Ha- 
 nover, where she was much respected and 
 beloved, she amused herself by composing 
 several religious pieces, which were afterwards 
 found among her papers ; and in which she 
 implores death to afford her a speedy relief 
 from her pains. About the same period, she 
 wrote also many letters, which were always 
 affecting, and frequently sublime. They were 
 filled with expressions of the same desire speed- 
 ily to unite her soul with the Author of her 
 being. The last words that my dear, my ex- 
 cellent child uttered, amidst the most painful 
 agonies, were these; 'To day I shall taste 
 the joys of I leaven I ' '
 
 ( 432 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 
 
 James Hay Beattie, son of Dr. James 
 Beattie, professor of moral philosophy and 
 logic in the university of Aberdeen, was born 
 in the year 1768. He died early in life, at 
 the age of twenty two j but wisdom, not years, 
 is the gray hair to man, and unspotted life is 
 old age. 
 
 This young man possessed a fine genius, great 
 vigour of understanding, and a very uncommon 
 portion of learning and knowledge : but the 
 rectitude of heart, and genuine piety, by which 
 he was so eminently distinguished, are the 
 qualities which render him a proper subject for 
 these memoirs. 
 
 We shall select a few traits of the life and 
 character of this excellent youth, as proofs of 
 his uncommon merit, and of the power of re- 
 ligion on his mind.
 
 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 433 
 
 His father never had occasion to reprove him 
 above three or four times, during the whole of 
 his life : bodily chastisement he never experi- 
 enced at all. It would indeed have been most 
 unreasonable to apply this mode of discipline to 
 one, whose supreme concern it ever was, to 
 know his duty, and to do it. The first rules 
 of morality which his father taught him, were, 
 to speak truth, and keep a secret; and it never 
 appeared that, in a single instance, he trans- 
 gressed either. His whole behaviour, at school 
 and college, was not only irreproachable, but 
 exemplary. In the year 1 78?, the king, upon 
 the recommendation of the university of Ma- 
 rischal college, was pleased to appoint him 
 assistant professor of moral philosophy and 
 logie. His age was then not quite nineteen ; 
 but to the gentlemen of the university his 
 character was so well known, that they most 
 readily, as well as unanimously, concurred in 
 the recommendation. His steadiness, good- 
 nature, and self-command, secured his autho- 
 rity as a teacher; and by his presence of mind, 
 and ready recollection, he satisfied his audience 
 that, though young, he was abundantly qua- 
 lified to instruct them. 
 
 Ff
 
 434 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 
 
 Piety and meekness were striking features in 
 his character, habitual to him in infancy, and 
 through life. The Christian religion and its 
 evidences he had studied with indefatigable ap- 
 plication ; and the consequence was such, as 
 may always be expected in like cases, where 
 the inquirer has candour and sense: no person 
 could love his religion more than he did, or 
 believe in it with fuller assurance of faith. But 
 in his behaviour there was no austerity or sin- 
 gularity. The effect of religion upon his mind 
 was, to make him cheerful, considerate, bene- 
 volent, intrepid, humble, and happy. He loved 
 the whole human race; he bore a particular 
 love to Christians i and he wished all parties 
 to exercise Christian charity towards each other. 
 He wished to be, and to be considered as, a 
 Christian : a title which he thought infinitely 
 more honourable than any other. 
 
 The purity and the delicacy of his mind were 
 great; and, in one so young, were truly admi- 
 rable, and worthy of imitation. He was aware 
 of the danger of admitting: indelicate or im- 
 proper thoughts into his mind ; for he knew
 
 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 435 
 
 that associations of ideas, disapproved both by 
 reason as incongruous, and by conscience as 
 immoral, might in a moment be formed, in 
 consequence of inadvertency, even when there 
 was no settled propensity to evil. His atten- 
 tion was continually awake, to learn, although 
 from the slightest hint, or most trivial circum- 
 stance, what might be useful, in purifying his 
 mind, regulating his conduct, or improving his 
 understanding. 
 
 He was almost constantly occupied in dis- 
 charging the duties of his office, in performing 
 acts of kindness, or in planning works of lite- 
 rature for the benefit of mankind; and there 
 is every reason to believe, that if his life had 
 been lengthened, he would have been eminently 
 useful in the world. But it pleased Divine 
 Providence to permit this promising youth to 
 be cut down by disease, in the morning of life. 
 When his disorder had made great progress, 
 and he saw death approaching, he met it with 
 his usual calmness and resignation. One even- 
 ing, while he was expecting the physician, who 
 had been sent for in the belief that he was just 
 
 Ff 3
 
 436 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 
 
 going to expire, he sweetly said, " How plea- 
 sant a medicine is Christianity V* 
 
 He sometimes endeavoured to reconcile his 
 
 father's mind to the thought of parting with 
 
 him ; hut, for fear of giving him pain, spoke 
 
 seldom and sparingly on that subject. " One 
 
 day," says his father, " when I was sitting 
 
 by him, he began to speak in very affectionate 
 
 terms, as he often liad done, of what he called 
 
 my goodness to him. I begged him to drop 
 
 that subject ; and was proceeding to tell him, 
 
 that I had never done any thing for him but 
 
 what duty required, and inclination prompted; 
 
 and that, for the little I had done, his filial 
 
 piety and other virtues, were to me more than 
 
 a sufficient recompense, when he interrupted 
 
 me, (which he was not apt to do,) and, starting 
 
 up, with inexpressible fervour and solemnity, 
 
 implored the blessing of God upon me. His 
 
 look at that moment, though 1 shall never forget 
 
 it, I can describe in no other way than by 
 
 saying, that it seemed to have in it something 
 
 more than human, and what I may not very 
 
 improperly perhaps call angelic. Seeing me
 
 JAMES HAY BEATTIK. 437 
 
 agitated, he expressed concern for what he had 
 done ; and said that, whatever might be in his 
 mind, he would not any more put my feelings 
 to so severe a trial. Sometimes, however, warm 
 sentiments of gratitude would break from him : 
 and those were the only occasions on which, 
 during the whole course of his illness, he was 
 observed to shed tears, till the day before his 
 death; when he desired to see his brother, gave 
 him his blessing, wept over him, and bid him 
 farewell." 
 
 The preceding traits of the life and virtues of 
 this amiable and accomplished youth, are taken 
 from " An account of his life and character,** 
 written and published by his very worthy father, 
 Dr. James Beattie ; to which publication the 
 compiler refers the reader for further particulars. 
 He will find it a well written, instructive, and 
 most interesting detail of the sentiments and 
 conduct of this excellent young man. 
 
 "We cannot better close this memoir, than by 
 transcribing the pious and pathetic lines of his 
 father, at the conclusion of that wuik. " I 
 
 F f 3
 
 438 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 
 
 have lost the pleasantest, and, for the last four 
 or five years of his short lite, one of the most 
 instructive companions, that ever man was de- 
 lighted with. But, c The Lord gave; the Lord 
 hath taken away: blessed be the name of the 
 Lord.' I adore the Author of all Good, who 
 gave him grace to lead such a life, and die 
 such a death, as mukes it impossible for a 
 Christian to doubt of his having entered upon 
 the inheritance of a happy immortality."
 
 ( 439 ) 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 
 
 Sir William Jones, an eminent lawyer, 
 and most accomplished scholar, was born in 
 London, in the year 1?46. lie lost his father 
 when he was only three years of age ; and the 
 care of his education devolved on his mother, 
 a woman of uncommon mental endowments. 
 She was very solicitous to kindle in his young 
 mind a love for reading; which she effected, 
 by constantly replying to those questions that 
 a native ardour for instruction incessantly 
 prompted, " Read, and you will know." This 
 he did to a great extent, at a very early 
 period. 
 
 lie was not one of those happy geniuses, (if 
 such there are,) who can make brilliant acqui- 
 sitions without pains. It was, on the con- 
 trary, by the most sedulous industry, and the 
 
 Ff 4
 
 440 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 
 
 renunciation of the usual diversions of a school- 
 boy, joined with the natural gift of a very 
 retentive memory, that he was enabled to lay 
 in those ample stores of knowledge, by which 
 he became so highly distinguished. 
 
 In 1764, he was entered of University college, 
 Oxford ; and his excellent mother, who devoted 
 her time almost entirely to him, fixed her re- 
 sidence in the same city. This affectionate 
 and judicious attention, must have preserved 
 him from many dangers, and was doubtless 
 productive of great comfort and advantage to 
 him. He ever regarded her with true filial 
 affection and gratitude ; and the desire of re- 
 lieving her from the burden of his education, 
 Tendered a fellowship in the college the great 
 object of his wishes. This soon fell into his 
 possession, and placed him, according to his 
 own idea, in a state of independence. lie had 
 the private tuition of young lord Althorpe, now 
 earl Spencer-, with whom he made a tour to the 
 Continent, by which he was introduced into 
 the most re-pectable company, an; I derived not 
 only amusement, but much instruction.
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 441 
 
 As he was desirous of obtaining a station in 
 society adequate to his endowments, and by 
 which lie might be, in no ordinary degree, 
 useful to his fellow creatures, he chose the pro- 
 fession of law, for the study of which he had 
 acquired a particular predilection. He en- 
 tered at the Temple in the year 1770 ; and 
 four years afterwards he was called to the 
 Bar. He did not, however, sacrifice to pro- 
 fessional studies all those literary pursuits, which 
 had so delightfully occupied him. He pub- 
 lished several volumes of poems, partly transla- 
 tions from the poets of Asia, and a number 
 of critical dissertations ; which attracted the 
 notice and admiration of persons, both at home 
 and abroad, who were competent judges of the 
 subjects. 
 
 The post, of one of the judges in the English 
 territories of India, had long been a particular 
 object of his wishes, principally on account of 
 the opportunity it would afford him of gratify- 
 ing his ardent desire for Oriental researches. 
 And in 1783, he received the appointment of 
 a judge of the supreme court of judicature at
 
 442 SIR WILLTAM JONES. 
 
 Fort William in Bengal ; and at the same time 
 the honour of knighthood was conferred upon 
 him. About this period he married a most 
 amiable woman, whose cultivated mind and 
 excellent heart, were finely adapted to his 
 views and happiness. The field of action and 
 inquiry which opened to him in India, was 
 immense. He planned the institution of a 
 society in Calcutta, similar to the Royal Society 
 of London ; and the labours and discoveries of 
 this institution have been very interesting and 
 eminently useful. For his extensive researches 
 into the history, laws, literature, and religion of 
 India, the world is greatly indebted to him ; 
 and from them the cause of Christianity has 
 derived no inconsiderable aid. 
 
 This learned and excellent man was, in the 
 prime of his days, and when apparently in 
 good health, seized with a disorder which, in 
 about a week, put a period to his valuable life. 
 He was then in the forty eighth year of his age, 
 possessing the full vigour of his mental powers, 
 and occupied with vast projects of literature, 
 which might have employed an active life pro-
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 443 
 
 tracted to the utmost limits allotted to the 
 human race. 
 
 Few men have died more respected, or more 
 regretted, as few have passed a more useful 
 and irreproachable life. The vast extent of his 
 erudition has been displayed in his literary 
 labours ; to which it may be added, that 
 scarcely any subject of human research escaped 
 his notice. As a linguist he has rarely, if ever, 
 been equalled ; for his list of languages com- 
 prehends, " eight studied critically ; eight 
 studied less perfectly, but all intelligible with 
 a dictionary ; and twelve studied least perfectly, 
 but all attainable." His industry in acquiring 
 elementary knowledge was not however pro- 
 ductive of dryness ; taste and elegance marked 
 all his exertions. As a poet, he would pro- 
 bably have risen to the first class, had his 
 ardour for transplanting foreign beauties, al- 
 lowed him leisure for the exercise of his own 
 invention. His private virtues were not infe- 
 rior to his intellectual endowments. As a son, 
 a husband, a friend, and a citizen, he fulfilled 
 every duty in an exemplary manner. His in-
 
 444 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 
 
 tegrity in the exercise of his judicial office was 
 above all suspicion. He was totally free from 
 pedantry, as well as from that arrogance and 
 self-sufficiency, which sometimes accompany 
 and disgrace the greatest abilities. His pre- 
 sence was the delight of every society which 
 his conversation exhilarated and improved ; and 
 his whole conduct bespoke a manly and in- 
 dependent spirit. A rational and exalted piety 
 crowned the whole of his great attainments, 
 and excellent qualities. 
 
 " The mind of sir William Jones," says his 
 pious and elegant biographer, lord Teignmouttj, 
 " was never tainted with infidelity. But there 
 was a period, before his judgment was matured, 
 and before he had studied the Scriptures with 
 close attention , when his belief in the truth of 
 Revelation was tinged with doubts. But these 
 were the transient clouds, which for a while 
 cbscure the dawn, and disperse with the rising 
 sun. I lis heart and his judgment told him, 
 that religion is a subject of supreme importance, 
 and the evidence of its truth worthy of his 
 most serious investigation. About the twenty
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 445 
 
 third year of his age, he sat down to the in- 
 quiry without prejudice, and rose from it with 
 a conviction, which the studies of his future 
 life invigorated and confirmed. The com- 
 pletion of the prophecies relating to our Saviour, 
 had impressed upon his youthful mind this in- 
 valuable truth, that the language of Isaiah, and 
 of the prophets, was inspired ; and in this be- 
 lief, to which fresh proofs were progressively 
 added, he closed his life. He has, I trust, re- 
 ceived, through the merits of his Redeemer, the 
 reward of his faith. 
 
 " In matters of eternal concern, the autho- 
 rity of the highest human opinions has no 
 claim to be admitted, as a ground of belief; 
 but it may, with the strictest propriety, be 
 opposed to that of men of inferior learning and 
 penetration : and whilst the pious derive satis- 
 faction, from the perusal of sentiments accord- 
 ing with their own, those who doubt or dis- 
 believe, should be induced to weigh, with 
 candour and impartiality, arguments which have 
 produced conviction in the minds of the best, 
 the wisest, and the most learned of mankind.
 
 446 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 
 
 " Among such as have professed a steady 
 belief in the doctrine of Christianity, where 
 shall greater names be found, than those of 
 Bacon and Newton ? Of the former, and of 
 Locke, it may be observed, that they were 
 both innovators in science : disdaining to fol- 
 low the sages of antiquity through the beaten 
 paths of error, they broke through prejudices, 
 which had long obstructed the progress of 
 sound knowledge, and they laid the founda- 
 tion of science on solid ground ; whilst the 
 genius of Newton led him to discoveries of 
 an amazing extent. These men, to their great 
 praise, and we may hope to their eternal hap- 
 piness, devoted much of their time to the study 
 of the Scriptures. If the evidence of Reve- 
 lation had been weak, who were better quali- 
 fied to expose its unsoundness ? Why were 
 minds which boldly destroyed the prejudices 
 in science, blind to those in religion ? They 
 read, examined, weighed, and believed; and 
 the same vigorous intellect, that dispersed the 
 mists which concealed the temple of human 
 knowledge, was itself illuminated with the 
 radiant truths of Divine Revelation. Such
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 447 
 
 authorities, and let me now subjoin to them 
 the name of sir William Jones, are deservedly 
 entitled to great estimation. 
 
 " In some of his papers, containing a deli- 
 neation of his daily occupations, I find a por- 
 tion of his time allotted to the perusal of the 
 Scriptures. And I am authorised to add, not 
 only from what appears in his printed works 
 and private memoranda, but from particular 
 and satisfactory testimony, that the writings 
 of our best divines engaged a large share of his 
 attention ; and that private devotion was not 
 neglected by him. The following lines, which 
 afford a proof both of his taste and piety, were 
 written by him in the year 17S(>, after a 
 perusal of the eighth sermon of Barrow. 
 
 ' \< meadows parch M, brown groves, and withering flmv'u, 
 Imbibe the sparkling dew and genial show'rs; 
 As chill, dark air inhales the morning beam; 
 As thirstv l) arts enjoy the g< lid stream ; 
 Thus to man's grateful soul from II<av'n descend, 
 'lii'.' mercies of lii.i Lulur, Lord, and Friend.' '
 
 448 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 
 
 At the end of his Bible, he wrote the fol- 
 lowing note ; which coming from a man of his 
 profound erudition, and perfect knowledge of 
 the Oriental languages, customs, and manners, 
 must be considered as a powerful testimony, 
 not only to the sublimity, but to the Divine 
 Inspiration, of the Sacred Scriptures. 
 
 " I have," says he, " carefully and regularly 
 perused these Holy Scriptures ; and I am of 
 opinion that this volume, independently of its 
 Divine origin, contains more true sublimity, 
 more exquisite beauty, more pure morality, 
 more important history, and finer strains both 
 of poetry and eloquence, than can be collected 
 from all other books, in whatever a<re or lan- 
 guage they may have been written." 
 
 As religion was the subject of his medita- 
 tions ui health, it was more forcibly impressed 
 upon his mind during illness. He knew the 
 duty of resignation to the will of his Maker, 
 and of dependence on the merits of a Redeemer. 
 These sentiments are expressed in a short 
 prayer, which he composed during his indis-
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 449 
 
 position in 1784 ; and which is in the follow- 
 ing words. 
 
 " O thou Bestower of all good ! if it please 
 thee to continue my easy tasks in this life, grant 
 nie strength to perform them as a faithful ser- 
 vant : but if thy wisdom hath willed to end 
 them by this thy visitation, admit me, not 
 weighing my unworthiness, but through thy 
 mercy declared in Christ, into thy heavenly 
 mansions, that I may continually advance 
 in happiness, by advancing in true know- 
 ledge and awful love of thee. Thy will be 
 done !" 
 
 Another short prayer, composed by him, on 
 waking one morning at sea during the voyage 
 to India, is worthy of insertion. 
 
 " Graciously accept our thanks, thou Giver 
 of all good, for having preserved us another 
 night, and bestowed on us another dav. O, 
 grant that on this day, wo may meditate 
 on thy law with joyful veneration ; and 
 
 G T
 
 450 SIR WILLIAM JONES, 
 
 keep it in all our actions, with firm obe- 
 dience.'* 
 
 Amongst the papers written by this truly 
 excellent man, was the following prayer, com- 
 posed by him on the first day of the year 1782, 
 about twelve years before his death. It is evi- 
 dently the effusion of a pious mind, deeply im- 
 pressed with an awful sense of the infinite 
 wisdom, power, and benevolence of his Creator ; 
 and of the ignorance, weakness, and depravity 
 of human nature. It contains sublime views 
 of the Divine attributes ; and the most humble 
 dependence on God, for light and ability to 
 serve him acceptably. 
 
 " Eternal and incomprehensible Mind, who, 
 by thy boundless power, before time began, 
 createdst innumerable worlds for thy glory, 
 and innumerable orders of beings for their hap- 
 piness, which thy infinite goodness prompted 
 thee to desire, and thy infinite wisdom enabled 
 thee to know ! we, thy creatures, vanish into 
 nothing before thy supreme Majesty. We
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. A5l 
 
 hourly feel our weakness ; we daily bewail our 
 vices ; we continually acknowledge our folly : 
 thee only we adore with awful veneration ; thee 
 we thank with the most fervent zeal ; thee we 
 praise with astonishment and rapture : to thy 
 power we humbly submit ; of thy goodness we 
 devoutly implore protection; on thy wisdom 
 we firmly and cheerfully rely. We do but open 
 our eyes, and instantly we perceive thy Divine 
 existence ; we do but exert our reason, and 
 in a moment we discover thv Divine attributes ; 
 but our eyes could not behold thy splendour, 
 nor could our minds comprehend thy Divine 
 essence ; we see thee only through thy stupen- 
 dous and all-perfect works ; we know thee only 
 by that ray of sacred light, which it has 
 pleased thee to reveal. Nevertheless, if crea- 
 tures too ignorant to conceive, and too de- 
 praved to pursue, the means of their own hap- 
 piness, may without presumption express their 
 wants to their Creator, let us humbly sup- 
 plicate thee to remove from us that evil, 
 which thou hast permitted for a time to exist, 
 that our ultimate good may be complete, and 
 to secure us from that vice, which thou suf- 
 
 Gg2
 
 452 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 
 
 ferest to spread snares around us, that the 
 triumph of virtue may be more conspicuous. 
 Irradiate our minds with all useful truth; in- 
 still into our hearts a spirit of general benevo- 
 lence ; give understanding to the foolish ; 
 meekness to the proud; temperance to the 
 dissolute ; fortitude to the feeble-hearted ; hope 
 to the desponding; faith to the unbelieving; 
 diligence to the slothful ; patience to those 
 who are in pain ; and thy celestial aid to 
 those who are in danger: comfort the afflicted; 
 relieve the distressed ; supply the hungry with 
 salutary food, and the thirsty with a plentiful 
 stream. Impute not our doubts to indifference, 
 nor our slowness of belief to hardness of heart ; 
 but be indulgent to our imperfect nature, 
 and supply our imperfections by thy heavenly 
 favour. Suffer not, we anxiously pray, suffer 
 not oppression to prevail over innocence, nor 
 the might of the avenger over the weakness of 
 the just. Whenever we address thee in our 
 retirement from the vanities of the world, if 
 our prayers are foolish, pity us; if presump- 
 tuous, pardon us ; if acceptable to thee, grant 
 them, all powerful God, grant them ! And
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 453 
 
 as, with our living voice, and with our dying 
 lips, we will express our submission to thy de- 
 crees, adore thy providence, and bless thy 
 dispensations; so, in all future states, to 
 which we reverently hope thy goodness will 
 raise us, grant that we may continue praising, 
 admiring, venerating, worshiping thee more 
 and more, through worlds without number, 
 and ages without end." 
 
 Gg3
 
 { 455 ) 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 The Reader, before he closes this volume, 
 will naturally pause, and encourage reflections 
 adapted to the subject. He has been pre- 
 sented with the testimonies and experience of 
 a number of his fellow-creatures, of different 
 periods, countries, professions, and situations 
 in life. He has found them all uniting in 
 their attestations to the power and excellence 
 of true religion, as our surest guide and con- 
 solation through time, and the only means of 
 securing eternal happiness. This solemn and 
 concurring testimony is of great importance. 
 It proceeds from some of the most eminent 
 persons that have ever appeared in the world, 
 whether we consider their station, their abi- 
 lities, or their virtue. Jt is on a subject of 
 the most interesting nature: and claims our 
 serious and reverent attention, as the senti- 
 ments of men, who were too much enlightened 
 to be deceived themselves, and too deeply
 
 436 CONCLUSION. 
 
 affected, as well as too virtuous, to deceive 
 others. They expressed their genuine feelings, 
 and their unbiassed views of things, at the 
 most awful period of life. 
 
 Some of these distinguished persons seem not 
 to have been deeply impressed with religious 
 considerations, till near the termination of their 
 days : they had then to lament the misappli- 
 cation of their time, and the delay of the great 
 work for which they were brought into exist- 
 ence.- Others appear to have made an early, 
 or more seasonable, choice of virtue and good- 
 ness for their portion ; and to have spent a 
 great part of their lives, in the fear and love 
 of God, and in doing good to mankind. They 
 enjoyed that peace of mind, which the world 
 could neither give nor take away: and a cheer- 
 ing well-grounded hope accompanied them to 
 the closing scene, that there was reserved for 
 them a crown of immortal honour. What an 
 evidence on behalf of piety and virtue ! What 
 a dissuasive from vice and folly ! And how 
 animating to weary travellers, to persevere in 
 the paths of goodness, and to keep their eyes
 
 CONCLUSION. 457 
 
 fixed on that happy country, where they too 
 shall rest for ever from all their labours ! 
 
 But we live in a world of danger and tempta- 
 tion. Propensities to evil are powerful. The 
 riches, honours, and pleasures of life, are con- 
 tinually alluring us to an immoderate love and 
 pursuit of them. The subtle enemy of all good 
 is perpetually on the watch, to avail himself 
 of our weakness and exposure, and to ensnare 
 and destroy us. Our safety, therefore, consists 
 in being always on our guard, and in steadfastly 
 resisting every approach of evil. 
 
 Hut who is sufficient for these things ! In 
 this situation, how shall we preserve our in- 
 nocence, maintain the warfare, and finally be- 
 come victorious? There is not a more evident 
 and important truth, than that the power of 
 accomplishing these great ends of life, is not 
 of ourselves. It proceeds from the grace of 
 God ; unto whom we are directed to npply 
 dailv, for preservation in temptation, and de- 
 liverance from evil. The perusal of valuable 
 books, reflection, conversation, and other means
 
 458 CONCLUSION. 
 
 of moral and intellectual improvement, are 
 indeed of great use and importance. Besides 
 enlarging the mind, and promoting our tem- 
 poral comfort and advantage, they may spread 
 before us a pleasing view of the beauty and 
 excellence of religion ; and may occasion some 
 desires for the possession of that happiness 
 which it confers : but unless the divine aid 
 be sought for and superadded, they will not 
 be able to produce that strength of resolution, 
 and steady perseverance, which are necessary 
 to crown our labours with success. Interest, 
 passion, depraved inclination, and the love of the 
 world, in constant operation, are too powerful 
 to be controlled, by slight and temporary con- 
 victions of mind, or feeble and transient wishes 
 of the heart. 
 
 May we, therefore, never rest satisfied with 
 clear apprehensions of our duty, just senti- 
 ments of the beauty and excellence of Reli- 
 gion, and frequent desires to become its dis- 
 ciples, and to partake of its felicity ! May 
 we be earnestly and steadfastly concerned to 
 apply, through the Redeemer of mankind, to
 
 CONCLUSION. 459 
 
 the Giver of all good, for the assistance of his 
 Holy Spirit, as the only power which can 
 sanctify and render effectual our endeavours 
 to please him, and produce in us the highest 
 perfection of our nature ! 
 
 He that formed our spirits, who is constantly 
 present with us, and without whose superintend- 
 ence not a sparrow falls to the ground, knows 
 all our wants and frailties ; and is not only 
 able, but abundantly disposed, to grant all 
 our humble and pious requests, and to give us 
 every necessary support and comfort. " Ask, 
 and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall 
 find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." 
 Let us not, therefore, be dismayed by the 
 perils of our situation, and the feebleness of 
 our powers. With humble confidence, let us 
 implore the God of love and mercy, to forgive 
 all our offences; to conduct us safely through 
 the present life ; and to prepare us for a happy 
 immortality.
 
 ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Page 
 
 ADDISON, JOSEPH 289 
 
 ALTAMONT 394 
 
 B. 
 
 bacon, lord chancellor 115 
 
 baynard, ann 294 
 
 beattie, james hay 432 
 
 BEaUFORT, cardinal 50 
 
 BEDfc, THE VENERABLE 40 
 
 BENEZtT, ANTHONY 378 
 
 B01RHAAVE, HERMAN 2S3 
 
 BORGIA, CESAR 52 
 
 boyle, nonr.RT 208 
 
 BRF.TTLRG, CATHARINE 132 
 
 BLKNfcT, BISHOP , ,, , 253
 
 462 INDEX. 
 
 c. 
 
 Page 
 
 CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY 61 
 
 CONFUCIUS 1 I 
 
 CYRUS S 
 
 D. 
 
 bODDRIDGE, DOCTOR 340 
 
 BONNE, DOCTOR , 126* 
 
 E. 
 
 ELIZABETH, PRINCESS OF THE RHINE... , 182 
 
 ECGENiUS, POPE ...,, 38 
 
 G. 
 
 GARDINER, COLONEL ^>!J 
 
 GILPIN, BERNARD 67 
 
 GREY, LADY JANE 89 
 
 GROTIL'S, HUGO ,,,,,,,.,,.,.,.. .......... ....... 13S
 
 INDEX. 4ft 
 
 rj 
 
 II. 
 
 Pag* 
 HALE, SIR MATTHEW 1 03 
 
 HALLER, BARON 401 
 
 HANWAY, JONAS 370 
 
 HARRINGTON, LORD 1 4<> 
 
 HASTINGS, LADY ELIZABETH 327 
 
 HATTON, SIR CHRISTOPHER 113 
 
 HERVEY, JAMES 384< 
 
 HOOKER, RICHARD 104 
 
 HOUSMAN, H 3.33 
 
 HOWARD, JOHN 410 
 
 r. 
 
 ICNATIl s 36 
 
 J. 
 
 Jane, qieen ok navarre 83 
 
 j-w'eway, john '221 
 
 JENYNS, SOAME 3,j 1 
 
 ion , 1 
 
 JONES, MR WILLIAM , iS9
 
 464 INDEX. 
 
 tOCKE, JOHN 
 
 L. 
 
 Page 
 , 214 
 
 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE 44 
 
 LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS 3 \1 
 
 LYTTELTON, LORD 364 
 
 M. 
 
 MARLBOROUGH, EARL OF 227 
 
 MARY, QUEEN OF ENGLAND 273 
 
 MASON, SIR JOHN 5S 
 
 MAZARINE, CARDINAL 155 
 
 MOMPESSON, WILLIAM 187 
 
 MOULIN, PETER DU c 122 
 
 N. 
 
 NEWTON, SIR ISAAC 247 
 
 NEWTON, JOHN 419 
 
 O. 
 
 OXENSTIERN, CHANCELLOR OF SWEDEN ]Z?
 
 INDEX. 165 
 P. 
 
 Pag* 
 
 PASCAL, BLAISE 195 
 
 PAUL, THE APOSTLE , 29 
 
 PENN, ADMIRAL 192 
 
 PHILIP, III. KING OF SPAIN 1 29* 
 
 POLYCARP 3S 
 
 R. 
 
 RALEIGH, SIR WALTER , 97 
 
 RATCLIFFE, JANE 24-1 
 
 RENTI, DU 179 
 
 RICHELIEU, CARDINAL 1 4G 
 
 ROCHESTER, EARL OF 1Q0 
 
 ROWE, ELIZABETH 297 
 
 RUSSEL, LADY RACHEL 231 
 
 S. 
 
 SALMASIUS 151 
 
 SCHURMAN, ANNA MARIA 1 GO 
 
 SELDF.N, JOHN 14 4, 
 
 SIDNEY, SIR PHILIP 109 
 
 SMITH, SIR THOMAS (34- 
 
 SOCRATES ]7 
 
 SOLOMON 4 
 
 STEPHEN, THE 1'ROTOM All TYR 2G 
 
 iih
 
 466 INDEX. 
 
 V. 
 
 Page 
 VlLLIERS, DUK.E OF BUCKINGHAM 202 
 
 w. 
 
 tyALSINGHAM-, SIR FRANCIS 83 
 
 WATTS, DOCTOR 301 
 
 WHITELOCKE, BULSTRODE > 15S 
 
 1VOLSEY, CARDINAL 
 
 55 
 
 WOTTON, SIR HENRY 120 
 
 z. 
 
 ZIMMERMAN 42S
 
 Recommendations of this Work. 
 
 Wf. have had freqnent occasion to speak of the diligence, good sense, 
 and good intentions of Mr. Murray; and we congratulate him sin- 
 cerely on the success of this particular work. We announce this 
 edition, because the alterations and additions are so considerable, 
 that it is rendered almost a new work. British Critic, July, 1801. 
 
 " The examples which Mr. Murray has here selected, and the 
 judicious reflections v.hich accompany them, are sue!) as can scarcely 
 fail to make the best impressions, and to produce the best effects, on 
 all who read them with attention. The present edition of this ex- 
 cellent publication, which has been long known and commended, is 
 enlarged by the addition of twenty-two new characters, fi'liug nearly 
 one hundred pases." jlnli-jacobin Hevieu:, January, 1SU. 
 
 ''We have received the tenth and last > dition of 'lis valuable work. 
 The improvements made in it, will app. a j from the Authors /titter* 
 titenent. We can only add to this account ;>f the present useful 
 volume, our hope that it will be pNtensivi ly circulated among our 
 omitrymeu." 'J fie Am, ri. 'in I'c.uu cad Literary Juurnai, 
 
 Jor July, August, m >! September, 1801. 
 
 < On reviewing this book, in its improved form, wc find the facts 
 
 unquestionable and highly interesting the style correct and neat 
 and tin: gi neral tendency ..j' the work such as induces us stronsfly to 
 reeommeivl it, enpt-eially to young reader";; who love entertainment 
 v, led with n- Tucti.ni." ' "l Mn line, Octiher, ISO]. 
 
 " The rapid sale of this small but valuable collection, has anti.-i- 
 pat< '1 I' < mui'iidation we arc d<'.rons to below. In an exem- 
 |,] : ' . .,,, (,; n ,re than seventy remarkable characters, man 1 ,' striking 
 4x- ., s arc i . : . >ited which, in the <|tnt-t hour of reil ction, may 
 , ire the 
 
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 }.. i iiiii jppilj h d : ii 
 
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 v her laa.-k, a~ in 
 
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 ( 468 ) 
 
 front ;~when a laxity of morals prevails even among believers, and 
 men stick not to insinuate that an indulgence in crimes expressly for- 
 bidden by our holy religion, will find excuse in the eye of that Being, who 
 know* he formed us frail creatures; at such a season, it is of the 
 highest importance, to recur to the piety of those comparatively few 
 bright examples, who will be of singular efficacy to excite in us a 
 love of God and goodness 
 
 Mr. Murray, with much commendable zeal, has, in the volume 
 before us, provided the reader with an assemblage of virtuous and 
 religious characters. The conduct of the greater part of them, at the 
 approach of death, affords a lesson which all are concerned to learn 
 that * the fear of the Lord ' alone ' is wiidom,' and to depart from 
 evil the only ' understanding.' " Critical Review, June, 1803. 
 
 " This judicious biographical selection is already too well known, 
 to stand in need of our recommendation: but we nevertheless avail 
 ourselves of a corrected and augmented edition, to add our approba- 
 tion, to that which it has justly received from the most respect- 
 able classes of the public." Eclectic Review, April, 1806. 
 
 "That 'examples draw where precepts fail,' >s a truth which has 
 been acknowledged m all ages and nations: and on the strength of 
 this principle, Mr. Murray has had recourse to experience, in evincing 
 the power and importance of religion. He has thus furnished an 
 interesting collection of testimonies ; and we wouder not, that a work 
 so instructive and amusing, as well as impressive, .should have been 
 generally patronized. It is a book which may be read with profit, 
 by persons in all situations: and, with the rising generation, it may 
 answer the double purpose, of improving them in biography and in 
 virtue." Monthly Review, August, 1801. 
 
 " This work, which has been long and justly admired, has, in the 
 last edition, recei-'ed many alterations and improvements; and 
 in ;is present enlarged state, forms, in our opinion, one of the best 
 books that can be put into the hands of yeung people. The subject 
 is grave and important; but Mr. Murray has rendered it highly in- 
 teresting and engaging, by a judicious selection of anecdotes and 
 examples; which, by the intermixture of pious reflections, he teaches 
 the reader to apply to his own benefit." 
 
 Guardian of Education, August, 1603,,
 
 ( 469 ) 
 
 Of the same Booksellers may be had, 
 
 THE LATEST EDITIONS, 
 
 Of all the other works of the same author, namely; 
 
 s. d. 
 
 1. Abridgment of Murray's Grammar. The 
 
 Twenty-Ninth edition Price, bound, . 1 
 
 2. English Grammar. The Twentieth edition, 4 
 
 3. English Exercises. The Fourteenth edition, 2 6 
 
 4. A Kf.y to the Exerchses. The Eleventh 
 
 edition, 2 6 
 
 Mr. Murray's Grammar, Exercises, and Key to the Exercises, form 
 altogether, by far, the most complete and judicious analysis of the 
 English language, that has hitherto been published. The rules for 
 composition are excellent ; the examples are selected with taste and 
 judgment; and the execution of the whole displays an unusual degree 
 of critical acuteness and sagacity." sinnuul Review, 180'J. 
 
 "Mr. Murray's English Grammar, English Exercises, .and Abridg- 
 ment of the English Grammar, claim our attention, on account of their 
 being composed on the principle we have so frequently recommended, 
 of combining religious and moral improvement with the elements of 
 scientific knowledge. But as it is not a part of our plan, to enter 
 <nto a particular examination of works of this nature, we .shall only 
 *ay, that they have long been in high estimation." 
 
 " The late learned Dr. Blair gave his opinion of thrm in the following 
 terms: 'Mr. I.indley Murray's Grammar, with t he Exercises and 
 the Key in a separate volume, I esteem as a most excellent per- 
 formance. I think it superior to any work of that nature we h .ve 
 * yet had j and I am persuaded that it is, by much, the best Grammar 
 
 II \\3
 
 ( 470 ) 
 
 ' of the English language extant. On Syntax, in particular, he" has 
 ' shown a wonderful degree of acuteness and precision, in ascertaining 
 ' the propriety of language, and in rectifying the numberless errors 
 
 * which writers are apt to commit. Most useful these Looks must 
 ' certainly be to all who are applying themselves to the arts of com- 
 
 * position.' " Guardian of Education, July, 1803. 
 
 " This Grammar is a publication of much merit, and fully answers 
 the professions in the title. The Appendix contains some of the best 
 rules for writing elegantly, and with propriety, that we recollect to 
 have seen." Monthly Review, July, 1796. 
 
 " We hare been much pleased with the perusal of Mr. Murray's 
 " English Exercises." They occupy with distinguished excellence, a 
 most important place in the science of the English language ; and, as 
 such, we can warmly recommend them to the teachers of schools, as 
 well as to all those who are desirous of attaining correctness and 
 precision; in their native tongue." Monthly Review, July, 1797. 
 
 "This book (English Exercises) has been accidentally mislaid : but 
 we willingly repeat the praise we formerly gave the author for his 
 English Grammar. There is great judgment shown in these Exercises j 
 and, what is no common merit, the greatest perspicuity in the adap- 
 tation of the exampbs to the several rules." 
 
 British Critic, November, 1 798, 
 
 " These Exercises are in general well calculated to promote the 
 purpose of information, not only with regard to orthography and 
 punctuation, but "Jso in point of phraseology, syntax, and precise 
 perspicuity of composition." Critical Review, October, 1797. 
 
 " The very general approbation, which this Grammar has received 
 from the pu'.-lie, is sufficiently indicative of its merits : and \ve have 
 much pleasure in confirming the decision of the public, respecting 
 its supenciiiy over all other English Grammars. We request the 
 author to couUuue his exertions for the instruction of the rising 
 generation." Critical Review, June, ISO".
 
 ( 1 ) 
 
 * Tne materials of this Grammar have been carefully and judiciously 
 selected; its arrangement is distinct, and well adapted to tin purpose 
 of instruction ; and its expression is simple, perspicuous, and accurate. 
 The Appendix contains a great variety of useful instructions on purity, 
 propriety, precision, perspicuity, strength, and elegance of language." 
 
 " The examples contained in Mr Murray's " English Exercises,'* 
 are selected with great judgment; and are very happily adapted to 
 the purpose of correcting common errors in writing and speaking.'' 
 
 Analytical Review, 1796, 1797. 
 
 " The principle upon which all the publications of Mr. Murray, for 
 the instruction of the rising sreneration. are founded, is such as gives 
 him an unquestionable claim to public protection. The man who 
 blends religion and morals with the elements of scientific knowledge, 
 renders an eminent service to society : and where ability of execution 
 is added to excellence of design, as in the present case, the claim 
 becomes irresistible .'' Anti-jacobin Review, January, 180-i. 
 
 " Mr. Murray's Grammar, as well as his other publications, has re- 
 ceived the uniform approbation of literary characters and journalists. 
 
 We do not hesitate warmly to recommend them to the instructed of 
 youth in every part of the United States, as eminently conducive to 
 pure morality and religion, and to the acquisition of a correct and 
 elegant style. They de erve to take ['nee of all other works of the 
 jine kind which are new used in oui schools. " 
 
 'I he Aihcr.can Ilea tew and I.ileraru Jtnirnul, for 
 July, J:/jrt/st, and September, I HOI. 
 
 ' Mr. T.indley Murray's Grammar of the English tongue, has 
 g;o\wi into hi'.:h repute. The demand tin it is so freipi. ut tii.it um.idy 
 .i />.'.' edition is published. This contains many cure tiou.s nid 
 additions, by which it. is greatly improved, as well ,'s somewhat en- 
 larged In (Jreat Britain, the sale and circulation are utii otntnonly 
 rapid and extensile. And as a proot of the pood op ; uion emeu oned 
 of it in America, the proles ors of the Colleges it New York, at 1'i.nce- 
 town, and at NVwhaven, have adopted it a- an eienientnry liimk of 
 instruction, in their respective seminaries. A work so well calculated 
 
 II h 4
 
 ( 472 ) 
 
 to be useful and popular ; so judiciously arranged; and executed with 
 so much taste and critical skill, well deserves to be put into the hands 
 of every person who studies the language which it is intended to 
 elucidate." Medical and Literary Repository, for May, June, and 
 
 July, ISO-i, published at New York. 
 
 " Our sentiments, with regard to the omission or insertion of the 
 relative pronoun, are exactly stated by Mr. Lindley Murray, the in- 
 genious author of the best English Grammar, beyond all comparison, 
 that has yet appeared. Imperial Review, September, 1805. 
 
 " We have to close our avowal of the pleasure, with which we have 
 read this excellent work, (the Grammar,) bv expressing our entire ap- 
 probation of Hie author's Appendix; which will enable the student to 
 make a proper u^c, in composition, of the instructions dispersed 
 through the grammar. It concludes with a serious and affectionate 
 exhortation to youth ; which manifests the purity and dignity of the 
 author's principles, as the general execution of his work demonstrates 
 Lis talents and research. We rejoice that it has attained to so exten- 
 sive a circulation ; and we earnestly recommend it to all, who ara 
 desirous of acquiring a clear and comprehensive knowledge of the 
 English language; but more especially to those who are engaged in 
 the grammatical instruction of youth; as we have no doubt that they 
 will derive from it the most valuable assistance to their labours." 
 
 Eclectic Review, September, 1 305. 
 
 5. Introduction to the English Reader. The 
 Eighth edition. Price, bound, 3s. 
 
 " Our page? bonr ample testimony, both to the ability and the dili- 
 gence of Mr. Murray. His different publications evince mm h sound 
 judgment mid good sense; and his selections are very well calculated to 
 answer the intended purpose. What Mr. Mur ay observes, in his system 
 of ru'Cf. for as>ist.ing children to read with pn'.priety, is wortii attention: 
 the precept with which he concludes is particularly so; ' Find out, and 
 imitate a good example.' " British Critic, November, 1801.
 
 ( 473 ) 
 
 6. The English Reader. The Tenth edition. 
 Price, bound, 4s. 6d. 
 
 " This selection reflects much credit on the taste of the Compiler ; 
 and the arrangement of the various pieces is judicious. The pre- 
 liminary rules for enunciation are useful, and clearly delivered. We 
 therefore recommend this small volume to those who wish to attain, 
 without the help of inst meters, the important advantages of thinking 
 and speaking with propriety." Monthly Review, August, 179f. 
 
 7. Seuuel to the English Reader. The Third 
 edition. Price, bound, 4s. 6d. 
 
 " We have already borne our testimony to the high merit of Mr. 
 Murray, as an acute grammarian, and as blending in his various 
 works, with uncommon happiness, a delicate and correct taste both 
 in literature and morals. We arc pleased, though not surprised, to 
 see that the public has demanded a new edition of the respectable 
 work now before us," Annual Review, 1S04. 
 
 " We regard, as a very valuable improvement, the biographical and 
 critical Aii'-rr.d/r, introduced i.Ho t lii-> edition of the " Snjuel to the 
 English lie id< r. ' Tnis compilation appears more free fiotii objec- 
 tionable ] !:>s, am! better adapted to the improvement of youth, 
 than any otlu r oi the kind which we have se. n." 
 
 hdeilic Rcv.erv, June, 1S03. 
 
 "The second edition of this excellent school book contains the ad- 
 dition oi irne extracts -< .cited lr>>m \d<i:-on, Carter, Hawkcsworth, &c. 
 An App nd \ also oi J p'tges is subjoined, containing Hiographical 
 Sketclu-:. ot I i :.:..)! !'io:n wbuin this select ion is made. These are 
 executed w.ib LuVily and neatie >s. We have no hesitation in re- 
 Couiiuendinj in i scIllIi^u, a* the Lest of ;ts kind." 
 
 Critical Re: eu., .V . .
 
 ( m ) 
 
 . Introduction au Lecteur Francois. 3s. 6d." 
 
 " Having repeatedly had occasion to mention the author's judgment, 
 circumspection, and taste, in the selection of pieces for the perusal of 
 youth, we need only remark, that these qualities are as evident in the 
 present, as in any former instance. We cordially recommend the 
 whole, as a very useful assistant* in beginning to learn, or to teach, the 
 French language ; and mere especially, as preparatory to the study of 
 Mr. Murray's former work on the subject, to which it is particularly 
 adapted." Eclectic Re-dew, August, 1307. 
 
 &. Lecteur Francois. Scconde Edition. 4s. 6d. 
 
 " Mr. Murray's enertions are directed to one of the noblest objects. 
 They are judicious, unremitted, and, we rejoice to add, particularly 
 acceptable to the public. His works are distinguished, from the mass 
 of school books, by a correct style, a refined ta.te, and especially by a 
 vigilant subservience to morality and religion. This volume is a valu- 
 able addition to the juvenile library, not merely as being free from the 
 gross defects of other collections, but as affording the student such an 
 introduction to French literature as is no where else obtainable." 
 
 Jxkctic P.evien; June, 1S06. 
 
 " Mr. Murray may claim the p^-oud title of the friend of youth. His 
 numerous and excellent publications for the use of young people, are 
 too well known for i .: to descavit upon them. The extracts, of which 
 the present wrk is composed, do credit both to Mr. Murray's taste and 
 diligence: they arc chiefly tak;.i from the writers of the age of T.onis 
 the 14th, (he era in which the Preach language attained its holiest 
 pitch of purity and refinement. Tw student, therefore, will find his 
 advantage in making use of it, as he will k- sure to form his taste after 
 the most correct models. To die youthful learner it is particular 1 }- to- 
 be recommended; as the selections have been made with the strictest 
 attention to propriety, and are not degraded by any of that lax morality 
 and false sentiment, which too frequently characterize the literature of 
 'jur neighbours." Critical Retievi, June. 1806,
 
 ( 475 ) 
 
 10. A First Book tor Children. The Sixth edition. 
 Price 6d. 
 
 " This very improved primer is intended to prepare the learner for 
 the author's English Spelling-Book; and is particularly designed by 
 him, to assist mothers, in the instruction of their young children. This 
 little volume is entitled to our recommendation.'' 
 
 Monthly Review, April, 1S06. 
 
 11. An English Spelling-Book. Tenth edition. 
 Price, bound, Is. <id. 
 
 " Mr. Murray has composed one of the best elementary books for 
 children, in the English language." Critical Review, April, 1S03. 
 
 " We recommend to the public this most important little volume, as 
 the only work with which we are acquainted, in the English Language, 
 for teaching children to read, written by a philosopher and a man of 
 taste." Literary Journal, 2\ovmber, 1S04. 
 
 " This is a very neat and useful elementary book. The scale of in- 
 struction which the author has exhibited, is accurately graduated. The 
 reading lessons arc very appropriate, amusing, and useful. They are 
 likewise free from the tai.it of the prevailing irreligion. This author 
 deserves much praic and encouragement, for t'ae pain* i,e has taken in 
 
 i)Uiifvi>i: ! !:s . .. tion : and the English Grammar, mentioned id 
 
 the tit! -lit work, v.'i'. ...'.': is character as a writer iu 
 
 this imj : -'> of liti ra 
 
 7 .. >" terver, April, 1806. 
 
 " Tk - li -y.i ."ularly v I! ad ipt -1 to answer the purpose for 
 
 which i! :-.]'': ' pit sent to the teaclurs 
 
 vf Enuli^h j oiith. Mr. Murray, who hasaln .<iy diaplayi d great skill 
 in tlie dipartiiu H oi i.. ^traction, v, ill a< i.'iirc additional reputaliou from 
 this manual. J in rules fir n ,,. ; uud pronum iation aregood; and 
 t!,'.' Lessons, E\ampl , a i E\ . , arc judiciously chosen. The 
 
 book i> eutitled to our recommendation." 
 
 MontV'j Review, [:', 180*:.
 
 ( 476 ) 
 
 Besides the favourable characters of Mr, Murray's works, in 
 the different Reviews, the Proprietors of the copyrights have 
 observed the strong recommendations of them, s;iten by a num- 
 ber of other respectable writers. From some of these authors, 
 they have selected the following sentiments. 
 
 " Mr. Murray's Grammar, and Selection of Lessons for reading, are 
 the best in the English language " 
 
 Walker's Elements of Elocution, Second Edition. 
 
 " Since the first edition of our work, we have seen with pleasure, An 
 English Grammar English Exercises and a Key to the English Exer- 
 cises, by Mr. Lindley Murray." 
 
 Edgncorflis Practical Education. Second Edition, 
 
 " For a full and easy explanation of the Figures of Speech, the reader 
 is referred t# Mr. Lindley Murray's excellent English Grammar. 
 
 F.dgevsorth's Poetry Explained. 
 
 " Murray's English Grammar. This is the most complete grammar 
 of our language. Aiy opinion is continued by that of the public, a& 
 this work now appears in the Fourteenth edition." 
 
 Kctt's Elements of General Knowledge. Sixth Edition, 
 
 " Murray's Grammar, together with his English Exercises and Key, 
 have nearly superseded every thing else of the kind, by concentrating 
 the remarks of the best authors on the subject. They are pieces of in- 
 estimable utility." Evans's Bssay on the Education of Youth. 
 
 "The best English Grammar now extant, is that written by Mr. 
 Lindley Murray ; who, by this publication, and by several others con- 
 nected with it, and designed as auxiliaries to its principal purpose, 
 has become entitled to the gratitude of every friend to English litera- 
 ture, and to true virtue." 
 
 Dr. Miller's Retrospect, if the Eighteenth Century,
 
 ( 477 ) 
 
 " By Grammar you have been taught the nature, power, and con- 
 struction of the English language ; and that, not in a superficial manner, 
 but by the most comprehensive system now extant, the larger Grammar 
 of Mr. Lindley Murray; in which the delicacies, refinements, and pecu- 
 liarities of our language, are inculcated and exemplified, The un- 
 wearied exertions of this gentleman have done more towards elucidating 
 the obscurities, and embellishing the structure, of our language, than 
 any other writer on the subject. Such a work has long been wanted j 
 and, from the success with which it is executed, cannot be too highly 
 appreciated." Dr. Abercrombie's Charges in the Senior Class of the 
 
 Philadelphia Academy, published 1804 and 1S0G. 
 
 " For pupils advanced in grammar, a better method cannot be con- 
 ceived, than is found in Murray's Exercises and Key. In these, the 
 faults and corrections, hy being separated, and placed in different books, 
 are happily calculated to set the mind of the pupil at work, to discover 
 the error by the rule; and, by tins discovery, to fix the rule more per- 
 manently in the memory." JJ alker's Outlines of English Grammar, 
 
 " I need not acquaint the public, with the merit and success of 
 Lindley Murray's Grammar; which seems to have superseded every 
 other. Indeed, when we consider the plain simple mode of instruction 
 he has adopted ; the extent of obsi rvation he has displayed ; and the 
 copious variety of illustrat on he has added; we shall not wonder, that 
 his Grammar has been so universally applauded." 
 
 H ulkcr's Outlines of English Grammar, 
 
 Jjntehj published, by the same Author, 
 
 An Engmsh Ghammak: comprehending the principles and 
 rules of the language, illustrated by appropr ate Ek cruses, 
 and a Key to the hxercises. Ju two volumes, Oi tavo. 
 Second edition improvtd. l'rice One Guinea, in Boards. 
 
 " We have had no grammarian, within the compass of our critical 
 career, who has eu ; 1 v ' .1 nmcli labour and judgment upon our 
 native language, as the authoi 01 those volumes, We are of opinion.
 
 ( 478 
 
 that this edition of Mr. Murray's works on English Grammar, deserves a 
 place in Libraries, and will not fail to obtain it." 
 
 British Critic, November, 180?. 
 
 " We have read this work with sufficient care, to be able to pronounce 
 upon it, as a work of great correctness and perfection. The parts which 
 we would select as deserving of peculiar praise, and as calculated to 
 afford most satisfaction to the person who reads the Grammar in more 
 advanced life, for the purpose of recovering and re-impressing what he 
 learned in his youth, are, that on Syntax, and the .Appendix to the first 
 volume, * containing Rules and Observations for assisting young persons 
 to write with perspicuity and accuracy, &c.' There is considerable 
 acuteness displayed v.nder both these important heads. The -iargc 
 number of examples in this work is of great importance, not only as 
 illustrating the several rules rhieh the author lays down, but as putting 
 a reader, even of inferior ability, into a capacity of judging for hiin.-,eif 
 how far the rules themselves are just. We cannot dismiss these volumes 
 without observing, that as they are intended for the higher classes of 
 readers, they will be found particularly serviceable to instructers, to 
 young persons who have left school, and to foreigners." 
 
 Christian Observer, November, ]SC9, 
 
 "Mr. Murray's English Grammar and Exercises have long maintained 
 their reputation, as the works best adapted for the initiation of student* 
 in the principles of the English language. They are now united in an 
 improved edition ; printed with a larger letter, and on a finer |>iper 
 in a form suited to the Library. The additions, it is stated, occup/ 
 more than ninety pages cf the first volume-; and are interspersed through- 
 out the book. The whole well J: serves the careful perusal of every 
 student of our language; containing a copious and skilful analysis tif 
 its principles, and many just and acute remarks on the peculiarities of 
 its idiom and construction." Annual Review, . . .
 
 From ihe Offi-e of 
 THOMAS WILSON d SON, 
 
 Ili-u <Just'i,ate, York,
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-Series 4939
 
 liifiP 
 
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