\ X 4 4 \v PREFACE. Infancy conducts to youth, youth to mature life, and mature life to old age and immortality. In the two first of these periods, the preparation is regularly made for the succeeding state of action, and systems of tuition are adopted, to fit the traveller for the progressive stages of his journey. But the close of life is B 2 PREFACE. seldom made the subject of preparatory contemplation. For while to some it is an object of terror, by others it is treated with affected neglect; and the greater part of mankind, immersed in the cares and concerns of the world, and in a contest for the toys and baubles, the crowns and sceptres, of the little scene in which they are acting a part, seem to have forgotten the great theatre to which they are ultimately destined. I am aware that in the hurry of busy life, amidst those professional and poli- tical efforts and exertions, which are generally useful to the community, and sometimes promote the welfare of the party himself, this preparation cannot always be properly attended to. In active life, however, while we are striving PREFACE. 3 for independence and competence, it is prudent at least, to make preparation for the time, when we may decline every other labour, except what concerns the interest of our friends, connections, and dependants, or the welfare of the com- munity. The object, therefore, to which I point, is the securing of a middle period? during which our exertions may be so directed, as by duties performed and benefits conferred, to produce consolatory reflections, against the approach of age and infirmity : so that we may view the grave, not as a scene of terror, but as the source of hope and expectation. In the course of directing my attention to this interesting subject, the intimacy with which your Lordship has favoured -* PREFACE. me, has afforded the most satisfactory evidence, that age is not necessarily attended either with infirmity of body or asperity of mind; and that when they do occur, it is the effect of unregulated appetites and passions, of a morbid con- stitution, or of natural sourness of temper. Indeed I have been much gratified to perceive that the effects of age may be directly the reverse ; and that the feelings and affections of the mind may become softer and milder, more kind and more benevolent as the child of immortality approaches the commencement of his spiritual existence. In collecting and arranging the pro- duce of my reading and meditation on this subject, with the hope, which all writers cherish but many endeavour to PREFACE. O conceal, that the work may prove worthy of favourable acceptance, I consider myself as a labourer employed for my own benefit and that of others, on the road which leads down the decline of life, in rendering it more safe and easy ; not indeed working entirely with my own materials, but in part with what have been left as common property, and for the general use of mankind; happy, most happy, if my efforts may be of service to others ; and may contribute to their security and comfort in their pilgrimage to that country, which has been the object of desire to the wise and virtuous of all ages. When I inscribe my work to your Lordship, I am sensible that it is not in my power to give either advice or assist- O PREFACE. tance. I do not presume even to offer hints or suggestions : but I am anxious not to forego the opportunity of acknow- ledging the advantages which I have received during the time that I have turned my attention to this subject ; and to declare my conviction, that with well regulated passions and appetites, the inconveniences of age may be so far mitigated,, as to leave little more of painful impression, than is necessary to prepare the tenant of this mortal body for his passage to eternity. As to myself it is no small advantage, that my medita- tion on this topic has not only had the passing effect of filling up hours not otherwise occupied, and of amusing and gratifying me at the time; but it has left in my mind permanent impressions, such as I am willing to hope, should PREFACE. 7 my life be extended, will not only reconcile me to the privations and in- conveniences of age, but may render that period of life in some degree ac- ceptable. Of the materials which Cicero pos- sessed, no one could have made a better use, than he has done in his Essay on Old Age. But the Gospel has since opened purer and more valuable sources of consolation, than are to be found in Polytheism and heathen Philosophy. The miserable uncertainty, or affected indifference of some of their best and wisest men with regard to a future state, form a striking contrast to the sure and certain hope, which reliance on the word of God, and faith in the merits of our Redeemer, will supply during 8 PREFACE. age and infirmity, to the poorest and humblest Christian, — who Sinks to the grave by unperceiv'd decay While resignation gently slopes the way ; And all his prospects brightening to the last, His heaven commenees ere this world be past. In adopting the form of a dialogue passing between eminent men of the same period, I have followed the exam- ple of Cicero. The venerable Bishop Hough is the Cato of my Drama; a prelate, who enjoyed an extraordinary degree of health of body and mind, to the advanced age of ninety-two ; and died, as he had lived, respected and beloved. He is well known for his manly resistance, as President of Mag- dalen College, to the tyranny of James the Second. His private letters, lately PREFACE. 9 published by our friend Mr. Wilmot, present an amiable portrait of his mind; and have enabled me, in some degree, to mark his peculiar manners and mode of expression ; so as to offer a view of his character in his ninetieth year, in the spring which succeeded the hard frost of 1739, the point of time which I have fixed for this Dialogue. The two other parties are his friend and correspondent Bishop Gibson, then Bishop of London, and Mr. Lyttelton (afterwards Lord Lyttelton) his neighbour in the country. Having at first fixed on the title of JSpurinna, I was influenced by a letter of Pliny's, the first in his third book ; — a letter which I never read without real gratification, increased by circumstances of resemblance in habits, character, and 10 PREFACE. period of life ; which if, from one pe- culiar cause, they do not strike your Lordship, will, lam confident, not escape the application of my other readers; even though I should give them no larger an extract than the following: Illi post septimum et septuagentis- simum Annum, aurium oculorumque vigor integer; Inde agile et vivi- dum Corpus, solaque ex Senectute Prudentia. 11 THE COMFORTS OF OLD AGE. Bishop Hough. My valued Brother of London, I have great pleasure in pressing your hand. In truth, I rejoice at the circumstance which has brought your Lordship into Worcestershire ; may I hope in good health. You have not, I trust, suffered from the severity of a Siberian winter, unparallelled in our mild climate. 12 THE COMFORTS Bishop Gibson. I wish, my dear Lord, I could give you as favourable an account of my health, as your kind- ness calls for. The intense cold of this season has, indeed, been too much for me; and though your junior in years, I feel myself your senior in age and in- firmity ; but why name age and infirmi- ty to you, who have so little claim to commiseration on that score ? Bishop Hough. Blessed be God for his great mercies to me ! I have to-day entered into my ninetieth year, with less of infirmity than I could have presumed to hope, and certainly with a degree of calmness and tranquillity of mind, which is gradually increasing, as 1 daily ap- proach the end of my pilgrimage. I think indeed that my life must now be OP OLD AGE. 13 but of short duration ; and I thank God, the thought gives me no uneasiness. Bishop Gibson. If you, Bishop of Worcester, were uneasy on this subject, what must be the feelings of others ? But in good sooth, you are so hale and strong, that I think, after all, I shall give you the go-bye, and precede you. Bishop Hough. Nay, my friend ! whatever may be said in favour of it, old age is a losing game. Months now count to me more than years did for- merly; and your Lordship has above twenty years to pass, before you arrive at my number. You have a good na- tural constitution; but pardon me, if, as your friend, Icomplain of your having made too severe a trial of its strength. 14 THE COMFORTS Your laborious publications on the er- rors of Popery, at the same time that they have been universally approved, have occasioned much anxiety in the minds of your friends, who tremble for the effect of such continued exertions. It is our duty to employ our talents for the good of others : and how can we better shew our gratitude for the comforts and advantages, which it has pleased God to bestow on us ? But it is also a duty to ascertain what our strength will bear. Excess of labour will exhaust the greatest intellectual powers, and the best natural constitution. Bishop Gibson. I admit that some- times I have attempted too much. — In this respect I have often had cause, my dear friend, to admire the serenity of OP OLD AGE. 15 mind which you have exhibited in every period of life, and with which you now bear the inconveniences and infirmities of age; so that, instead of hearing com- plaints, we see nothing but ease and cheerfulness. Let me be your pupil, Bishop of Worcester : trust me with your secret, and shew me how the last act of life may be filled with propriety and satisfaction ; . fontes ut adire remotos, Atque haurire queam vitae praecepta beatae. But, in my pleasure at seeing you, I forgot to announce an unexpected visi- tor in Mr. Lyttelton. Bisuop Hough. What ! Is he come, after his campaign at St. Stephen's, to 16 THE COMFORTS recruit his forces, and enjoy quiet with Sir Thomas, at Hagley ? Bishop Gibson. Even so ; and though not arrived at a period to put your pre- cepts in practice — yet with his peculiar turn of mind, he will be highly grati- fied to learn, how it is that a heavy load of years, so much complained of by others, should sit so lightly upon you. But here he comes ; let him speak for himself. Mr. Lyttelton. Health and happi- ness to both your Lordships. Bishop Hough. Accept my wish, dear Mr. Lyttelton, of multos etfelices. He who devotes his life to the service of the public, merits that his years should OP OLD AGE. 17 be many and happy. How is your worthy father, my friend and neighbour, Sir Thomas ? Mr. Lyttelton. I am most thank- iFul that I can give a favourable account j)f him. Though not wholly exempt from infirmity, yet in his retreat at Hagley, the blessings with which Pro- vidence has favoured him, are received with a degree of gratitude, that enhan- ces the enjoyment. Bishop Hough. You have indeed a garden of Eden, my young friend, prepared for you atHagley; and I hope the report is true, that you are occupied in the delightful task of inviting an Eve to enjoy and adorn it. Whoever be the fair unknown, I will trust in your c 18 THE COMFORTS taste, that the virtues of the heart, and endowments of the mind will not be forgotten. Mr. Lyttelton. Whether your Lord- ship's intelligence be correct or no, time will shew. — But what I heard as I en- tered, gave me hopes of instruction from you as to the comforts of age, and the means which I must employ to secure those comforts, should my life be ex- tended. Instead therefore of referring to the passing concerns of youth, allow me to add my request to the Bishop of London's, that you will favour us with the secret of attaining those comforts in advanced life, which you seem so abun- dantly to enjoy. Bishop Hough. One of its greatest OF OLD AGE. 19 comforts is to regard with sympathy and satisfaction the happiness of others, and to look back with complacency on the pleasures of youth. Of all tem- poral and worldly enjoyments, Mr. Lyt- telton, the marriage union with a con- genial mind, animating a pleasing fr^me, is by far the greatest. To me it is always a gratification to sympathise with the young in their enjoyments. I become more a participator in their youthful feelings than my aged and cold blood could have promised : and I profess to you, my young friend, that when the day arrives of your union with the fair object of your choice, I shall almost feel myself a bridegroom; retracing in my recollection that happy hour, which united my dearest friend to me. The separation indeed, at the time was bitter; 20 THE COMFORTS but that bitterness is now passed; a fond regret remains, mingled with more and more pleasing sensations, and ac- quiring increased softness and tender- ness, as I hourly approach nearer and nearer to the period of our re-union. I now humbly confide in her being soon restored to me, in a state of eternal and unchanging happiness, promised by the revealed word of God, to those who have faithfully served him in their day and generation. Mr. Lyttelton. Happy they, who can thus direct their eyes to the grave ! — That I am looking to such an union, as your Lordship so feelingly describes, I am ready to admit; and, at the same time, I cannot deny that I once held heretical opinions on the subject. It OF OLD AGE. 21 appeared to me, that so much was re- quired, — so intimate a blending of hearts and wishes, — such unlimited affection and unbounded confidence, — that the married state must be the extreme, either of happiness or misery. Bishop Hough. In a world of trial like this, calculated to prepare us for a world where bliss is complete and per- manent, it is wrong to entertain hopes of perfect happiness-, in any condition of life. Such hopes can only lead to dis- appointment and vexation. Still less should we be terrified by apprehensions of extreme misery. In a transitory state like the present, there will be perpetual occurrences to diminish the one, and to mitigate the other ; thus producing in the moral, as in the natural world, an 22 THE COMFORTS equality of temperature.— The wind is tempered by the word that created it. — When parties fitted for each other by habits and studies, by modes of thinking, by system of occupation, by temper, dis- position, and above all by moral and religious feelings, — when such parties unite in wedlock, let them co-operate with hand and heart in the duties and charities of life, — and they will find the greatest degree of happiness which this probationary world can afford, and the best preparation for that kingdom, the joys and pleasures of which are perfect and eternal. Mr. Lyttelton. Let me then hum- bly hope, that an early union with a pure untainted mind, may be the means of conducting me happily and surely to OF OLD AGE. 23 those blissful regions. And on this subject, my Lord Bishop,, I will confess myself to you as my Diocesan., in pre- sence of the Bishop of London. In the early part of my life, — and I look back with surprise and regret — I was more than shaken with regard to the truths of Revelation. The levity of some of my fellow collegians, the cavils and objections of the new sect of Free- thinkers, and the total want of all spiri- tual advice, had unsettled my mind at the university. These however would have had no permanent effects on me, but for the answers which were given to those cavils and objections ; —answers which, though offered with confidence, appeared to me to be perfectly weak and impotent : I therefore presumed them to be unanswerable. 24 THE COMFORTS Bishop Gibson. Christianity has suf- fered as much by weak and injudicious advocates, as by the open attacks of in- fidelity. When I see a man presuming hastily to answer objections, the force and extent of which he has never fully considered, I am almost inclined to wish he had taken the other side, and to cry out, Adversario da istum Patronum. Such men, however sincere and well- intentioned, generally injure the cause they propose to support. Mr. Lyttelton. When I went on my travels, what I saw and heard of Christianity in many parts of Europe, left me, as I fear it has done many other young travellers, in a state of little better than rank infidelity. Since my return to England, however, I have held it a OF OLD AGE. 25 duty to study the Scriptures with care and attention ; and on a subject of such infinite importance, seriously to weigh the evidence by which their authenticity is supported; and I am indeed most thankful that the mists which had ob- scured my understanding are now dissi- pated ; and that I enjoy the glorious light of the gospel, as the director of my path through this probationary state. Bishop Gibson. The revealed word of God will afford not only the best, but the only authentic and satisfactory information, to direct and inform the mind in this respect. For when we con- sider what may be done by perfect wis- dom and goodness, operating with ab- solute power, over infinity of space, the mind is lost in the contemplation, and 26 THE COMFORTS necessarily recurs to revelation, as the only source of knowledge on a subject, so passing the limited faculties of man. At the same time, the variety of the evi- dence which may be adduced in support of Revelation, affords a very striking confirmation of its truth ; — " the proofs from prophecy — from miracles — from the character of Christ — from that of his Apostles — from the nature of the doctrines of Christianity, whether consi" dered each in itself, or in their mutual relation to each other — from other spe- cies of internal evidence, afforded in more abundance in proportion as the sacred records have been scrutinized with greater care — and from the accounts of contemporary writers— ^are such, that it seems to be morally impossible, that so many different kinds of proof, and all so OF OLD AGE. 27 strong, should have lent their concurrent aid, and united their joint force, in the establishment of falsehood.*' Mr. Lyttelton. There is no ac- counting for the promulgation and early prevalence of Christianity, on any other supposition than that of its Truth. How otherwise can we explain the instanta- neous conversion of many thousands of all ranks, opinions, and countries ? How can we otherwise, among many exam- ples, account for the conversion of St. Paul ; a fact established on the clearest and most decisive evidence, and sufficient in itself to convince any fair and candid mind, of the truth of Chris- tianity ? I have weighed the circum- stances of that case with minute atten- tion : and if I could but satisfy myself 28 THE COMFORTS that discussions of this kind came within the scope of a Layman, I might, at some future period, venture to offer to the public the result of my inquiries on that subject: but I should be sorry to be thought improperly to interfere with the concerns of a profession, to which I have not the honour to belong. Bishop Hough. Religion, my young friend, is the business of every one. Its advancement and decline in a country, are so intimately connected with national prosperity and with the temporal inter- ests of society, that it is quite as much the concern of the Statesman, as of the Ecclesiastic. Bishop Gibson. Allow me further to observe, Mr. Lyttelton, that what a OF OLD AGE. 29 Layman writes on the subject of Reli- gion, will be perused with more candour, and be more exempt from the imputation of interested motives or professional pre- judices. — But, Bishop of Worcester, I must reiijtnd you of our request, that you would impart to us your antidote to the aches and infirmities of age. Bishop Hough. I never peruse the account of the journey of the Israelites through the Wilderness, as given by Moses in the Pentateuch, or abridged by David in the lxxviii. Psalm, without considering it as a type of the Christian's passage through this probationary state. The world is the wilderness, through which we are travelling ; and if we are asked what is our country, we may point with Anaxagoras, to Heaven. — Like the 30 THE COMFORTS children of Israel we have difficulties and dangers to encounter,, but we have the light of revelation to direct our path and to guide us by night and by day. We also have the living waters, are nourished with angels' fooJ^nd fed with the bread of heaven. It therefore ill becomes us, as we approach the pro- mised land, to murmur and be dispirited, because we are weaker and more wearied- With the blessed Jerusalem in view, approaching the holy rest of God, we need desire no more strength, than will carry us to our journey's end. Viewing this world in its true light, as a passage to a better, we shall find all the periods of life under the same directing provi- dence : and we may be assured that our Creator has not left the last stage of our corporeal existence imperfect ; but OF OLD AGE. 31 has apportioned to each its duties and enjoyments. — When every other part of the drama of life has been so well pro- vided for, it can hardly be supposed that the last act should have been en- tirely n*Aected. Every period of our existence has its gratifications, as every season of the year produces its peculiar enjoyments. The bloom of spring, the gleam of summer, and the rich produce of autumn may be passed and gone : but to those who have made due prepa- ration, the cheerful fireside and the social comforts of winter will not be less acceptable. When, however, I say this, I except those cases, where indivi- duals have so applied the former part of life, as to leave the latter blank and comfortless : I only mean to assert, that if our youth be so employed as not to 32 THE COMFORTS embitter the decline of life, we shall find enjoyments allotted to every period of our existence. Mr. Lyttelton. Let me then re- quest you to state the natui^ of those enjoyments, and the means of attaining them. Bishop Hough. I shall most willing- ly comply with your request. But in observing on the comforts provided for the close of life, you must not expect novelty. Much of what I shall have to say is derived from books, some part from conversation, other part from re- flection: and the whole is so blended and amalgamated in my mind, that it will be hardly practicable to distinguish what I have borrowed, from my own pro- OF OLD AGE. 33 perty. Let therefore one acknowledg- ment serve for all. — And again remem- ber that while one of the pleasures of age is to be of use to others, that of hearing oneself chatter is another : I shall therefore strive to set a watch upon my tongue. Homer, you recollect, com- pares the prattle of Priam's aged coun- sellors, to the unceasing chirping of grasshoppers. — But to proceed :— they who possess no resources within them- selves, will find weariness and vexation in every period of life : for while the current of animal spirits is only to be kept up by the external stimulants of pleasure, vanity, pride, cupidity, and ambition, a degree of languor and list- lessness must at times inevitably take place; and particularly in old age, when the sensual appetite being dimi- 34 THE COMFORTS nished, the power of looking inwards for intellectual pleasure, becomes more and more essential to the well-being of the rational creature. The misfortune is, that if the mind be not adequately sup- plied with proper and rational objects, the seeds of envy, petulance, malice, sensuality, avarice, and revenge, will take root in the vacant space, and pro- duce their harvest in the autumn of life. When, therefore, lam speaking of the enjoyments of the aged, I presume, that the prior life has been such as to merit enjoyment. The best and surest guard against the inconveniences of age, is to study through life the precepts of the Gospel, and to perform the duties it prescribes. The good seed thus sown, in the spring of life, will be abundantly productive of consolation, in every sub OF OLD AGE. 35 sequent period : for it is not merely at the dying hour, but during every other portion of existence, and particularly in old age, that the memory of useful and benevolent exertions affords a source of gratification. On the contrary, what degree of comfort can an old man rea- sonably expect, who, at the close of this brief and chequered life, cannot con- pole himself with the memory of any one duty fulfilled, either to God or man ? — who has applied, his talents and posses- sions to no one good or useful purpose; but has directed their concentrated power to the mean, solitary, and unworthy ob- ject of self-gratification ! — I speak not of the comforts of such an old age. They who have provided no resources of intellect, and no traces of beneficence to individuals, or of services to the 36 THE COMFORTS community, have no claim to comfort at the close of life. The moral govern- ment of the Supreme Being would (if I may presume to use the expression) be impeached, if they who had attempted to live only to themselves, — were capable of calm and unqualified enjoyment in old age. Bishop Gibson. I think, Bishop of Worcester, I can read in Mr. Lyttelton's countenance, that he feels very fully the force of your observations. Let us therefore request that, before you notice the positive comforts of age, you will advert to those inconveniences of ad- vanced life, which are not the effects of misconduct, but the necessary concomi- tants of length of years. OF OLD AGE. - 37 Bishop Hough. In these I presume then that you will not include poverty, sickness, casualties, and those things which are common to every period of life. Mr. Lyttelton. Certainly not ; at least no further than they are aggravated by age. Bishop Gibson. And yet against that aggravation should be opposed this cir- cumstance ; that the aged, at least those who have been provident, are generally more protected against want, and less liable to casualties, than the young. Bishop Hough. Perhaps we may fairly set the one against the other. I shall therefore venture to exclude them 38 THE COMFORTS from the account; and adopting the Ciceronian arrangement., class the incon- veniences of age under the four follow- ing heads : — 1st. that it unfits for public life; — 2nd. is attended by infirmity of body; — 3d. diminishes the power of animal enjoyment; — and 4th. is a state of anxiety on account of the approach of death. Mr. Lyttelton. Is not the failure of memory to be included under the in- conveniences of age ? Bishop Hough. Certainly. — But I consider it wherever it exists, whether in age or youth, as an infirmity which may unfit for public life ; protesting however that, with exception of cases where the constitution has been originally OF OLD AGE. 39 defective or the memory impaired by non-exercise, the recollection of theaged is in general detailed and minute. The fact indeed has been often noticed, that the oldest witnesses are more clear and distinct in their testimony, than the younger. — But to consider the first ob- jection of unfitness for public life. There is no doubt but that the aged are less fit for enterprises, which require bodily activity and strength : but they are not therefore disqualified for the conduct of business, or less fit for counsel, advice, or direction. And I must observe that in the Government of Empires, it is knowledge and experience, not youth, and temerity, that are essential. The advantages of young counsellors have been proverbial, ever since the revo- lution which followed the death of /BHSITY 40 THE COMFORTS Solomon. Need I, Mr. Lyttelton, to one of your scale of intellect, observe that with civilized man, it is counsel not force, mind not body, that must govern. Agamemnon in his speech to the aged Nestor, did not wish for the athletic strength of youth, but for the expe- rienced wisdom of age, to conquer Troy; as Mr. Pope has well translated it : O would the Gods, in love to Greece, decree But ten such sages as they grant in thee ! Such wisdom soon should Priam's force destroy, And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy. • It was not by corporeal but by intel- lectual vigour, that our Royal master, William, and our English Hero, Marl- borough, performed those great achiev- ments for the preservation of our civil OF OLD AGE. 41 and religious liberties, and for the salvation of Europe. It was not mus- cular strength, but mental reflection working by experience that instructed the former to baffle the intrigues of Lewis, aiming at universal monarchy; and when in January 1704 the Em- peror of Germany, alarmed at the pro- gress of the French arms, and at the defection of the Duke of Bavaria, im- plored the aid and protection of the Queen and People of England to save the Roman empire from impending ruin, it was acuteness and sagacity of mind, that enabled Marlborough to compel the surrender of the entire French army at Blenheim, and in one day to an- nihilate the tyrannic and destructive power of France. — Among those who congratulated our deliverer upon his 42 THE COMPORTS welcome arrival in 1688, one of the gay- est and most lively courtiers that I saw in the whole party, was Serjeant Maynard, then about my present age. I observed the kindness with which the Prince com- plimented him on his period of life (he was then ninety),, and on his having out- lived all the lawyers of his time: Qe I might (replied the old man) have out- lived the law too., if your Highness had not arrived/' His spirit was just the same., as when some years before, he so ably opposed the bill for constructive treason ; and at the advanced age of ninety, he was not deemed unfit to be placed at the head of the High Court of Chancery, in times extremely critical and difficult; nor was he found un- equal to the pressure of business which then took place. — Neither did our ex- OF OLD AGE. 43 cellent friend Lord Somers shew less vigour in projecting the union in 1708, than he displayed twenty years before in the establishment and recognition of the title of their Majesties, and in the able support which he gave to the aet of con- vention : or even in a latter period, at the close of the rebellion in 1715, when under the pressure of great bodily in- firmity, but retaining his own native vigour of mind, he reprobated those severe measures against the rebel Lords, which have had the effect of converting Tories into Jacobites ; and exclaimed to the Minister, ce Do you then mean to " revive the proscriptions of Marius and ec Sylla, and to drive the Tories into the "arms of the Pretender, and dye the " royal ermine with blood ?" — To no- tice other examples, your predecessor, 44 THE COMFORTS Bishop of London, (I mean Dr. Robin* son), lived to his ninety-third year, and always preserved a considerable share of health; and Sir Christopher Wren was in his eightieth year when he finished your cathedral of Saint Paul's. He died at the age of ninety-one, but not till he had completed other great works. Mr. Waller, at the age of eighty-two, is said to have lost none of his intellectual powers : and the immortal Newton, the prodigy of our age, who began his phi- losophical career before one-and-twenty, and had continued it with incessant labour for more than half a century, was in his eighty-third year very busy in im- proving his Chronology; and afterwards, averse as he had always been to contest and dispute, yet when he thought the cause of truth and the interests of science OF OLD AGE. 45 required it, he entered the lists of con- troversy, and continued the literary war to his death, with all the warmth and enthusiasm of a young disputant. Bishop Gibson. But observe, brother, that Sir Isaac Newton's was the solitary occupation of mere intellect. It did not require those resources and that peculiar firmness of mind, which the concerns of public business demand, and which old age does not in general possess. Bishop Hough. Take then the ex- ample of Corsini, the present Pope, Clement the Twelfth. He was near four-score when he succeeded to the Papal Chair ; he has now held it for ten years, and has not lost any of that popularity, which he at first acquired, by 46 THE COMFORTS abolishing several improvident taxes, and putting an end to the system of oppression, that Cardinal Coscia had established under his predecessor. — -Or if activity in the field be more de- cisive, what do you say to Marshall Villars ? who, after having quitted his military career for many years, has lately taken the command of the army in Italy, at the age of four score ; and in a short, active, and glorious cam- paign, has driven the imperial army out of the Milanese territory, and res- cued that country from an unexampled severity of oppression. I have a re- spect for a good pun ; and I love the pleasantness of this old man, who at the siege of Milan, being asked his age, could answer, ft Dans peu de Jours, j'aurois Mil-an." OF OLD AGE. 47 Mr. Lyttelton. You defend your ground so well,, my Lord Bishop, that there is a pleasure in seeing you attack- ed. Allow me then to ask, whether in public affairs, the art of persuading and convincing others is not essential ? and whether the powers of a public speaker are not enfeebled by age ? Bishop Hough. The voice, Mr. Lyt- telton, I admit, does not retain its sten- torian powers : but then it acquires a sweetness and mellowness, quite as fitted to engage the attention and convince the understanding, as the more boisterous vociferation of youth. Such was the elo- quence of Nestor, whose words, Homer tells us, flowed from his mouth like honey ; and such the tones, with which Lord Somers (many years after he had 48 THE COMFORTS resigned the seals and quitted public life) addressed the House of Commons in an- swer to his malignant accusers, and at once confounded and silenced them. Bishop Gibson. And yet I cannot but think, that the trial which you were put to early in life, called for nerves and strength, to oppose the threats and artifices of James's Commissioners. It required, my dear Bishop, the vigour of youthto giveyour answer : — cc My Lords, Cf I submit as far as is consistent with cc the laws of the land and the statutes w of the college, and no further; or what you added, i€ I do hereby pro- a TEST AGAINST ALL YOUR PROCEEDINGS, cc and against all you have done in pre- judice of me and my right, as illegal, is unjust,' and null; and therefore I OF OLD AGE. c< appeal to my Sovereign Lord the cc King, in his Courts of Justice." Bishop Hough. And why, Brother, should I be more timid and more time- serving at my present age, than at thirty- six ? Is disinterested contempt of life and fortune less practicable at the age of ninety, than at an earlier period ? or are those who find themselves approach- ing the end of their mortal pilgrimage, more likely to sacrifice liberty and truth to the extension of a precarious exis- tence, and for the sake of life to surren- der all which can give to life any real value ? How different were the feelings of Solon! who when he opposed with vigour, though without success, the tyranny of Pisistratus, and was asked what had inspired him with such un- E 50 THE COMFORTS daunted courage, replied, u Mv old age." You and I, Bishop of London, would, I trust, at no period, be disposed to make so precious a sacrifice, for the prolongation of life : and however in- firm my mortal frame may now be, I feel, at the present moment, as fitted for the trial I then underwent before the Bishop of Chester and the two Judges, and as ready to meet the danger and abide the event, as at any preceding period of my life. Mr. Lyttelton. Patriotic feelings like these, my dear Lord, are then more likely to increase than diminish in ad- vanced life ? Bishop Hough. So, indeed, I should conceive. — But I have still more proof OF OLD AGE. 51 that old age is not incapacitated for public life. If the peace and prosperity of a country afford evidence of the talents of a minister, who ever deserved the name of a great Statesman, better than the present Premier of France, in his 88th year ? — I mean the amiable, the honest, and the pacific Fleury : yet the Cardinal was near seventy-four, when he undertook the administration of the kingdom of France; which in the course of little more than fourteen years, he has by peaceful measures in a great degree restored, exhausted as it was by the pro- fusion and ambition of the late monarch and his ministers. And, my dear Mr. Lyttelton, you must pardon me when I observe, that your political opponent, Sir Robert Walpole, has very great merit with me in that respect. To his 52 THE COMFORTS co-operation with the mild and equitable minister of France, we are indebted for a greater extension of peace, than we have enjoyed for a long time. Our late monarch, indeed, was not exempt, nor, I fear, is our present sovereign, from the infectious desire of military glory. Mr. Lyttelton. I must remind you then, my Lord, of your warm panegyric on King William, and the Duke of Marlborough ; and ask whether there was no itch, no infectious desire of military glory in them ? Bishop Hough. There might have been. God only knows the heart of man. — But there was a cause. The clouds of bigotry and despotism threatened misery and havock to our quarter of the OP OLD AGE. 53 globe: and those heroes were the in- struments to which., under an overruling providence, Europe is chiefly indebted for the civil and religious liberty which it now enjoys. We have (and I grieve to hear it) just declared war against Spain, and are rejoicing in the capture of Porto Bello ; prepared by success for an attempt on Carthagena, or for some- thing which may end in loss and dis- grace. When I hear a proposal for de- claring war, I figure to myself a sus- pension of commerce, a decay of manu- factures, a scarcity of food, an increase of taxes, a state of irritation, uncertainty and discontent; and I am persuaded, that if warlike sovereigns would fre- quently visit their hospitals, crowded with the dying and disabled, and con- template the depopulation and distress 54 THE COMFORTS which are the effects of their itch for glory, that fatal disease would be less prevalent and destructive. Mr. Lyttelton. Do you then, my Lord Bishop, approve of the corrupt means, by which the present minister has so long preserved his power ? Bishop Hough. I say not that. But impressed as I have been with all you have so ably stated in the House, still I acknowledge his merits as the preserver of peace: they perpetually recur to my mind, and create an interest in his favour. — Let me however return to my subject,— The period in which we have lived, has supplied many valuable les- sons on the subject of old age. Hardly any one has left more impression on my OF OLD AGE. 55 mind, than a visit which I paid in 1693., to our late metropolitan, Dr. Sancroft, at Fresingfield in Suffolk ; a little farm where he was born, and which had been above three hundred years in his family. He was then approaching to four-score; I found him working in his garden, and taking advantage of a shower of rain which had fallen, to transplant some lettuces. I was struck with the profu- sion of his vegetables, the beauty and luxuriance of his fruit-trees, and the richness and fragrance of his flowers, and noticed the taste with which he had directed every thing. u You must not has been long suffering with cheerful resignation, under a painful and hope- less malady : and our friend, the General, asked, and obtained leave of his neigh- bour, for his three girls to make very OF OLD AGE. 171 frequent visits to her sick room, as the school of sympathy ; where they alter- nately attend, as the little nurses of their dear invalid ; thus cherishing in their youthful minds, habits of gratitude for the health which they enjoy, and of pity for the sufferings of others. Mr. Lyttelton. I know the General well. The anecdote is quite in charac- ter. But, my Lord, I have had frequent occasion to observe during my travels that this sympathy is generally increased, in proportion to the necessity and help- lessness of the object. In the vallies of Switzerland, the ideots of that country, under all the disadvantages of deformity and imbecility, are cherished with ex- traordinary kindness and affection : a most gratifying instance this of a mer- 172 THE COMFORTS ciful Proyidence, which, while defect of mind or body in the child, blights the hope and checks the pride of parents and friends, it awakens compassion, and increases anxiety for its protection and preservation. Bishop Hough. Let me now draw your attention to another advantage of old age ; — its legitimate right to indulge in ease and leisure, after a life of activity and exertion; with the consciousness that this indulgence is then as beneficial to health, as in youth it is pernicious. When I had nearly attained fourscore, I thought myself justified in giving up my triennial visitations ; not so much on account of fatigue, either of travelling or of delivering my charges to the clergy, as of the numerous confirmations : which OP OLD AGE. 173 were very laborious, and might have ex- hausted a man, even in an earlier period of life. I had before that, discontinued my attendance in Parliament, and my annual visit to the metropolis : and though I have for the last twelve years lived almost wholly at Hartlebury, yet I do not feel myself secluded from the world, while I have kind friends to sup- ply me with all the interesting events of busy life. Indeed I sometimes think that I am now better acquainted with what is going on in town, than when I used to be a resident : and I interest my- self more than ever in the progress, and matrimonial connections,, not only of my own friends and relations, but of all those families, in whose history I con- ceive the welfare of the community to be implicated. Again, if I do not regularly 1 TJNI J>f 174 THE COMFORTS answer my letters or dispatch business, I can plead my age, and the indulgence to which I am entitled. These are saucy infirmities ; but the plea is allowed by the good nature of my friends ; — not that I can claim to be disabled from writing and thinking ; but I may fairly aver that neither my head nor my hand are so active^ as they have been ; and when you consider that lam this day en- tered on my ninetieth year, I dare say you will not wonder at it. Bishop Gibson. The only wonder to us, Brother, is that you bear it so lightly and pleasantly. Bishop Hough. My London corres- pondents wrote me word last winter, that the frost pinched very much in town, OF OLD AGE. 175 and that in the country they supposed I must feel it in greater extremity. I can- not say but that I really felt it ; but then I had plenty of fuel, and I indulged my- self freely in the use of it; and this, with the ordinary provisions of warm clothes and food, fortified me against its rigour; so that the winter passed very gently over my head. I am easy both in body and mind,, and am looking to the end of my journey without anxiety. I seldom go now, more than three or four miles from home ; but am pleased to see you and my other friends, and to hear from you ; and I must do you all the justice to say,, you do not forget me. What infirmities I have, I expected years ago ; I therefore do by no means complain of them now ; but adore that gracious Pro- vidence, which has brought them upon 176 THE COMFORTS me gently and insensibly, and suffered my life to wear out in a quiet and easy manner. — Cicero has observed, that as the craving for bodily food is diminished in advanced life,, the appetite for conver- sation is augmented. I feel the truth of his observation, and in proportion as I apprehend the diminution of animal gra- tifications, I endeavour to provide in- tellectual enjoyments to supply the place. Thus as I lose the relish for the active and boisterous pleasures of youth, I ac- quire more appetite for the tranquil amusements of age : and my mental pleasure increases, in proportion as the sensual appetite is abated. Inconsequence of this, my taste for the fine arts and the classics, and my delight in the sublime beauties of the sacred scriptures, have augmented to such a degree during the OF OLD AGE. 177 last thirty years,, that I seem to have ac- quired a new sense ; supplying a fore- taste of that existence, where our enjoy- ments shall be spiritual, unchanging, and eternal. Mr. Lyttelton. My dear Lord, you have so warmed yourself with your sub- ject, that I am apprehensive of your being fatigued and exhausted by the excess of your exertions. Bishop Hough. Ah no, dear Mr, Lyttelton ! the subject can never fatigue or exhaust me. It is to me a source of health and comfort ; and my meditations on it produce those effects, which Lon- ginus ascribes to the true sublime ; — ec It " elevates and affects me, swelling my (c mind with transport and inward satis- N 178 THE COMFORTS €t faction, and supplying ideas more en- €i larged and more exalted than the €t mere sounds of words can convey/' — You, Mr. Lyttelton, would have quoted the original : I can only give a transcript of the impression left on my mind, when I read it ; having been too busy at the age of sixty, to follow Cato's example, and to devote my time to the study of Greek. — Let me here observe to you, that the gratifications, which I now derive from reading, conversing, an&meditating, are of a different order from what I for- merly enjoyed in the active period of life. They have a calmness and tranquil- lity annexed to them, which more than compensates for the absence of many of the hurrying and bustling pleasures of youth. The perusal of books, which either direct our hopes to future happi- OF OLD AGE. 179 ness or give lightness and gaiety to the fleeting hour, — conversation on scientific or literary subjects, on the events of our past lives., on the scenes now acting be- fore us, or on future prospects, — and meditation on the attributes of God., on acts of duty performed by us, on kind- ness received from others, and on the in- visible world to which we are approach- ing, — acquire a double relish in old age, and are of power to consign to oblivion many of its infirmities. — It is at that ad- vanced period of life, that the mind looks forward with anxious expectation to an eternity of bliss ; and though in- capable of fixt and permanent contem- plation on the subject, springs like the unborn babe quickening into life, with the consciousness of the approach of a new and unexplored state of existence. 180 THE COMFORTS Bishop Gibson. Assuredly, Brother, there cannot be a more animating motive to virtue and piety, than the prospect of eternal happiness. Whenever the arch- fiend — our great enemy, is most earnest to pervert and corrupt us, he labours to erase from the mind the hope of immor- tality ; and as Dr. South has quaintly expressed it, C€ when once infidelity can f 1 persuade men, that they shall die like et beasts, they will soon be brought to u live like leasts also." Bishop Hough. Yet this hope has cheered the heart of man in all ages. Some of the wisest and most virtuous heathens have, by the mere light of na- ture, perceived that our future existence is the only one deserving the name of life ; and that the soul, during its con- OF OLD AGE* 181 finement in a mortal body, is doomed to a state of penance and probation, looking with desire to its native seat in heaven. If we consider the faculties of the mind, the rapidity of its conceptions, its recol- lection as to the past, its sagacity with regard to the future, and its discoveries in every branch of art and science, it must be evident that this active and com- prehensive principle cannot be corporeal or mortal. " O my sons, (said the dying " Cyrus) do not suppose that, when I si shall be separated from you by death, €C I shall cease to exist. You beheld not u my soul, while I have been with you ; " yet you were persuaded of its existence, " by the actions you saw me perform. Cc Infer the same, when you see me no cC more. — I never will be induced to cc believe, that the soul can properly be 182 THE COMFORTS " said to live, while it remains in this " mortal body ; or that it will cease to cc have existence, when death has dis- " solved the vital union. Neither can I " be persuaded that it will become void " of sense, because it has quitted its " connection with senseless matter: or u that on the contrary, its intellectual u powers must not be improved, when cc refined from corporeal mixture/' Mr. Lyttelton. I have frequently admired that passage, my Lord, and con- sider it as one of the most favourable examples of the consolations of heathen philosophy. Bishop Hough. What, however, are these faint glimmerings of unassisted reason, compared with the divine light OF OLD AGE. 183 of Revelation, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day ? — My strength declines and my end approaches : but I am most grateful, that the moderate de- gree of understanding which God has been pleased to give me, is not impaired ; and I have a consoling hope, that when our Saviour shall come in all his glory to judge mankind, you and I, with all faithful people, shall through the mercy of God, and the merits of our Redeemer, find a place at his right hand. What our portion may be in that kingdom, is known only to his Father and himself: but this is revealed to us, that at his right hand are pleasures above our con- ception to all eternity. I have no doubt but that I have lengthened my life, and preserved my health by the calmness and composure which I derive from frequent 184 THE COMFORTS meditation on this subject ; for what can be more delightful and invigorating to the mind, than to contemplate with the eye of faith, a period now no longer dis- tant, when I shall arrive at the eternal mansion where the glory of God shall lighten it, and the Lamb shall be the light thereof? The earthly house of this pilgrimage shall then be dissolved., and I shall have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the hea- vens ; and shall exclaim with the Apos- tle, * n his eighty-fifth year. CLEMENT XII. — VILLARS. 2 IS Page 45, line 14. Clement the Twelfth, of the Corsini family at Florence, was born 7th of April 1652, and made Cardinal in May 1 706. In August 1730, then in his seventy-ninth year, he was elected Pope. On his election, and before his Coronation, several of the cardinals offered him advice on the state of public affairs, to which he answered shortly, u It is for the Cardinals to " elect the Pope, and for the Pope to choose " his Ministers." Page 46, line 6. Marshal Villars was born in May 1651. He served under Marshals Turenne, Cond£, Schomberg and Crequy; and distinguished himself so much, as to obtain a regiment at the age of twenty-three. During the wars of Lewis the XIV, he continued in very active service; and in the short intervals of peace in 1679 and 1696, went as Ambassador to Vienna. On the death of his Father in 1698, he sue- 214 VILLARS. ceeded to the Dukedom of Villars: he had been appointed Field Marshal in 1689, and Marshal of France in 1702. In 1709, and the two succeeding years, he was opposed to the Duke of Marlborough by his sovereign, who counted on the circumstance of Pillars never having been beaten ; and though he was de- feated by the Duke at Malplaquet, yet he sup- ported the contest so ably, as to induce the English Court to treat for peace ; which was signed at Utrecht, in April 1713. In October 1733, when the Marshal was in his eighty- third year, he was solicited to take the com- mand of the French army in Italy, in defence of the Sardinian territory ; and was appointed Marshal General of France. In ten days after he reached Turin on the Sixth of November ; where he joined the King of Sardinia, and proceeded with such vigcur and expedition against the enemy, as to drive the Imperial army out of the Milanese, the Lodisan, and part of the Dutchy of Mantua, in the course of the next month, December. The Marshal then proposed to pursue their success, as the means of keeping the enemy in check, and preventing VILLARS. 215 his recovering himself. The King of Sardinia, however, satisfied with his success, withheld his concurrence. As they were examining the position of the Imperial army, being at a dis- tance from their own and with a small escort, they found themselves exposed to the attack of a much larger part of the enemy. The King expressed his fear of an ambuscade : when Vi liars cried out, " II ne faut songer qu'a sortir " de ces pas„ La vraie valeur ne trouve rien ts d'impossible. II faut par notre exemple, (i donner du courage a ceux qui pourroient u manquer." Saying this the Marshal charged the enemy at the head of his little troop : they fled astonished, leaving fifty men dead on the field, and thirty prisoners. The King said, he had not been surprised at his courage, but at his vigour and activity. He replied, " Sire, ce €S . sont les dernieres gtincelles de ma vie, car je " crois, que c'est ici la derniere operation de " guerre, ou je me trouverai." — Disgusted with the inactivity and ingratitude of the Sardinian Monarch, he solicited his recal : and quitting the camp on the 27th of May 1734, went to Turin ; where, a few days after, he died, on 216 FLEURY. the 17th of June 1734, in his eighty-fourth year. Page 51, line 8. Caedinal Fleury was the son of a re- ceiver of tithes in Languedoc, and born in 1653. He was educated under the Jesuits, in the school of Hareourt, where he soon distin- tinguished himself by his talent and address. In 1668, at the age of fifteen, he was appointed a Canon of Montpellier ; and live years after, Chaplain to the Queen, and on her death, Chaplain to Lewis the XIV. In 1689, he was selected to be Subpreceptor to the Duke of Burgundy and his two brothers, Fenelon being the Preceptor. He was promoted to the See of Frejus in 1698, and on the death of Lewis the XIV. in 1715, became Preceptor to his So- vereign Lewis XV. over whose mindhe ever pre- served a great degree of personal influence. In June 1726, he succeeded the Duke of Bourbon, as Prime Minister 5 and was soon after nomi- nated a Cardinal, being then in his 74th year. With the most conciliating manners, he was WALPOLE. 217 sincere and honourable in his conduct ; and for a period of fourteen years, from 1726 to 1740, he had the happiness of contributing very essentially to the peace and prosperity of France. The three last years of his administra- tion were unfortunate. On the death of the Emperor Charles the Sixth in 1740, without male issue, a war ensued respecting the imperial succession, the calamitous events of which preyed on the Cardinal's mind, and occasioned his death in 1 743, at the advanced age of ninety. JPage 51, line 19, Sir Robert Walpolb, third son of Robert Walpole, esquire, of Houghton, in the County of Norfolk, was born in August 1676 : came into Parliament in 1701, and united with the Whig Party. In 1705, he was appointed Se- cretary at War, and in 1709, Treasurer of the Navy; but on the change of ministry in 1710, was dismissed from office ; and an inquiry into his conduct as Secretary at war, instituted by the new administration; which, in January 218 SANCROFT. 1712, prevailed so far as to expel him the House, and commit him to the Tower. In February 1714, on a new Parliament being called, he was re-elected ; on the accession of George I. in September 1714, he was appointed Paymaster of the Forces ; and, in October 1715, first Lord of the Treasury and Chancel- lor of the Exchequer, On the removal of Lord Townshend, as Secretary of State, in Decem- ber 17 16, Sir Robert Walpole resigned his situation at the head of the Treasury; to which offices thay were afterwards both restored in April 1721. From that time he continued in full power as Prime Minister, for 21 years, until 1742: when the Opposition prevailing against him in Parliament, he resigned all his appointments, was created Earl of Orford, and retired to his seat at Houghton ; where he died in 1745, in his 7 1st year. Page 55, line 2. Dr. William Sancroft was born in 1616. In 1642, he was elected Fellow of Emanuel College, Cambridge; from which, in 1649, he SANCROFT. 219 was ejected as a loyalist, for refusing to take the engagement. He then went abroad, where he continued till the Restoration. On his return he was in 1662, elected Master of Emanuel College ; and in 1664 promoted to the Dean- ery of York ; and soon after, to the Deanery of St. Paul's. He assisted in revising the Li- turgy, in 1661 ; and afterwards contributed very liberally to the rebuilding of St. Paul's Cathedral, after the great fire in 1666. He was in 1677*unexpectedlyadvanced by Charles II. to the See of Canterbury. In the reign of James II. he took a very decided part against the measures, adopting for the re-establish- ment of Popery ; and upon the King's issuing a declaration in favour of the Papists, in June 1688, he joined with six of the Bishops, in a petition to the King, assigning the reasons why they could not cause it to be read in churches. For this petition, the Archbishop and the six Bishops were committed to the Tower, and tried for a misdemeanor : but acquitted. He soon after brought forward a plan for the relief of Protestant dissenters. He was pressed by King James, to sign the Declaration against 220 SANCROFT. the Prince of Orange : but he declined it, and in December 1688, joined with the Lords in the Declaration to the Prince. When the Prince came to St. James's, however, the Archbishop did not wait on him, nor did he attend the Convention Parliament. In this he was influenced by a conscientious regard to the oath of allegiance, which he had taken to James the II.; which determined him to re- fuse taking any new oaths to William and Mary. For this refusal he was, with seven other Bishops, deprived in February 1689 ; and being ejected from Lambeth by process of law, he retired to his paternal estate of £50. a year in Suffolk ; where he lived in great se- clusion until his death in 1693, at the age of 77. Dr. Turner, Dr. Kenn, and Dr. White, (three of the six Bishops committed with him to the Tower) were also of the number of those deprived at the same time with Sancroft. Lord Aylesbury calling at his lodgings, just, after his deprivation, was very much affected by seeing that he had no attendant, but was obliged to open the door himself. u Oh, my « good Lord," said Sancroft, " rather rejoice LEIGHTON. 221 " with me : for now I live again." The Rev. Dr. Wagstaff, who attended Mr. Sancroft in his last illness, observed that any man might read the pleasure in his breast, by the constant se- renity and cheerfulness of his aspect. c It was c indeed (he adds) an unspeakable comfort and * satisfaction to us, and we reflected on the c mighty power of a well spent life. Drawing c near his end, he said, " that his profession ** was real and conscientious ; and that if the " same thing was to be acted over again, he "would quit all he had in the world , RATHER than violate his conscience." Page 58, line 6. There was a contemporary of Dr. Sancroft, a Scotch Archbishop, who in times of the seve- rest trials and difficulties, when contending parties alternately persecuted one another, ex- hibited the most amiable example of every christian virtue. I mean the excellent Arch- bishop Leighton, who (says Bishop Burnet) had great quickness of parts, a lively appre- hension, a charming vivacity of thought and 222 LEIGHTON. expression, a perfect knowledge of the learned languages, was well versed in theological learn- ing, and particularly in the holy Scriptures. He spent some years in France, and spoke that language like one born there. On his return from abroad in 1641, he undertook the minis- try of the parish of Newbottle, near Edinburgh. His preaching had a great sublimity both of thought and expression, and the grace and gravity of his pronunciation was such, that few heard him without very sensible emotion. In 1648, being attached to the royal cause, he preached with great freedom against the injus- tice and violence which then prevailed ; and when at the annual Synod, the ministers were asked t€ whether they preached to the times," he replied, u For God's sake, when all my "brethren preach to the times, suffer one poor " priest to preach about eternity." He was so generally esteemed, notwithstanding the party rage which then existed, tbat he continued undisturbed, until he thought proper volunta- rily to withdraw from his situation. He soon after accepted the Mastership of the College of Edinburgh \ where he presided ten years, unti LEIGHTON. 223 upon the restoration of Episcopacy in Scotland in 1661, he was thought a proper person to give credit and success to the appointment. He was persuaded to accept the little Bishop- ric of Dunblane, but he refused to join Sharp and the other Bishops, in their public and pom- pous entry into Edinburgh, or in the measures they were adopting ; and when Archbishop Sharp, said, a How can these men expect mo- " deration from us, when they themselves im- iC posed their covenant with so much zeal and " tyranny on others ?•' Leighton answered. " Let us treat them with gentleness, and shew " them the difference between their principles 4C and ours. ,> — Finding he could not mitigate these violences, he went to Court in 1665 tore- sign his Bishopric, saying to the King, u the * measures were so oppressive, that he could not * concur in them, were it even to plant Christi- u anity in an Infidel Country ; much less when " it went only to alter Church Government." His remonstrances produced their effect ; the measures of Government were changed, and the King prevailed with him to continue in his Bishopric. — In 1669 he was offered the Arch- 224 LEIGHTOK. bishopric of Glasgow, which he declined. How- ever, he was induced to accept it the next year, when he endeavoured to make peace between the Church and the Presbyterians ; but hav- ing failed in the attempt, and the severities being increased, he asked leave to resign his Archbishopric. His request was not granted ; but he received a promise, that, if he did not change his mind, he should be allowed to re- sign within the year. About twelve months after, in 1673, he retired from his Archbishop- ric into Sussex, devoting the residue of his life to charity and devotion. He used often to say, " that if he were to choose a place to die in, it u should be an inn; it looking like a pilgrim's c< going home, to whom this world was all as . t€ an inn, and who was weary of the noise and " confusion in it ; that the officious tenderness " and care of friends was an entanglement to (C a dying man ; and that the unconcerned at- u tendance of those who could be procured in u such a place would give less disturbance." — He came to London, in 1684, at the earnest request of his friend Burnet, and for a pious . and benevolent purpose. He was then some- ARRANGEMENT OP TIME. 225 thing more than seventy. His friend observed on his appearing so fresh and well, and so ac- tive in body and mind : he answered that he was then very near the end of his work and his journey. The next day, apparently from a cold caught on the road, he was taken ill. His disease was a pleurisy ; and he expired the day after without pang or convulsion. His death took place at an inn, in Warwick Lane, agree- ably to the wish he had frequently expressed. My veneration for this primitive Bishop, has induced me to collect these incidents of his life; affording an example of genius, talent, science, and literature — being conducive to a pious and useful life, and to a happy old age, cheered by the bright hopes of immortality. Page 62, line 16. As a companion to Pliny's Diary of Spu- rinna, the reader may perhaps like to peruse the following account of Archbishop Fene- lon's arrangement of his day, given in the abridged history of his Life, by Mr. Butler : — He allowed himself a short time for sleep, rose Q 226 ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. at a very early hour, gave some time to prayer and pious meditation, and then arranged with one of his grand vicars, the employments of the day. Except on Saturdays, or on festivals parti- cularly celebrated in some Church of his diocese, when he officiated there, he said mass every day in his private Chapel. On Saturdays, he said it in his Metropolitan Church : and during the rest of that morning heard indiscriminately the confessions of all who presented themselves. Till nine o'clock he was visible to those only who attended by appointment : after that hour till he dined, his doors were open to all per- sons, who professed to have real business with him. At noon he dined ; his table was suitable to his rank ; but he himself was extremely ab- stemious, eating only the simplest and lightest food, and of that very sparingly. All his chap- lains were admitted to his table. It was his general rule to shew them the greatest respect : if he sent them into the country, on any busi- ness of his diocese, it was always in one of his own carriages, and with one of his own attend- ants ; that the respect which he showed them, might conciliate to them the general respect of ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. 22? his flock. Both before and after dinner, he himself said grace with seriousness, but with- out affectation. During dinner, the conversa- tion was general ; and strangers were struck equally with his ease and politeness. After dinner, all the company retired to a large apartment for about an hour ; there the same style of conversation was continued ; but a small table was sometimes placed before Fene- lon, on which he signed his name to papers* which required immediate dispatch; and he sometimes took that opportunity, of giving di- rections to his chaplains on the affairs of the diocese. An hour was spent in this manner ; after which, unless he was prevented by urgent business, or necessary visits, he lived to himself till nine o'clock ; then he supped, and at ten the whole of his household assembled, and one of his chaplains said night prayers ; at the end of them the Arbhbishop rose, and gave his ge- neral blessing to the assembly. — The only re- creation of Fenelon, was a walk in his garden or in the open country. His letters, like those of Cicero, often express the satisfaction which he felt in retiring, after the agitation and hurry 228 ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. of business, to the simple and interesting scenes of nature. — By their stillness and calm- ness, any ruffle of the day was quickly smoothed ; and his mind, wearied by study or business, soon recovered its freshness and elasticity. There toohis piety was often invigorated. u The tC country (the Archbishop says in one of his " letters) delights me. In the midst of it, I find " God's holy peace. Oh, what excellent com- " pany is God ! with him one never is alone. 1 ' — In his country walks with his friends, his conversation was particularly instructive and pleasing : this circumstance is frequently men- tioned by his contemporaries. " No person (says " the Duke de St. Simon) ever possessed in a " higher degree than Fenelon, the happy talent " of easy, light, and ever decent conversation : a it was perfectly enchanting. His mild, uni- " form piety troubled no one, and was respec- c ' ted by all." — Fenelon passed his last eighteen years at his diocese in his official duties, and in the exercise of Christian charity and kindness ; and died as he lived, respected and beloved. QUEEN MARY. 229 Page 79, line 14. Queen Mary, wife of William the III. was the eldest daughter of James II. She was born on the 30th of April, 1662, and married to William, then Prince of Orange, on the 4th of November, 1677- In consequence of the Revolution which seated her husband on the throne of her father, her situation was rendered peculiarly delicate and distressing ; particularly during the war in Ireland, when her husband and father were personally opposed to each other, and while she was agitated by ardent wishes for the success of the one, and by ex- treme solicitude for the safety of the other. Her feelings are beautifully expressed in the letters which she addressed to her husband, at that time. In her congratulations to him on the victory of the Boyne, she says, " When I " heard the joyful news from Mr. Butler, I " was in pain to know what was become of the u late King, and durst not ask him. But when u Lord Nottingham came, I did venture to do a it, and had the satisfaction to know he was " safe. I know, I need not beg you to let him jT' 230 DEATH OF A FRIEND. "be taken care of, for I am confident you will " for your own sake. Yet, add that to all your st kindness, and for my sake let people know u you would have no hurt come to Ins person." She died of the small-pox on the 28th of De- cember, 1694, in the thirty-third year of her age, greatly beloved and regretted. Page 85, line 2. This was a tribute to the memory of an ever dear and regretted friend, who died on the 6th of June, 1813. It was written immediately after her death, and contains as correct a deli- neation of her general character, as an unre- served intimacy of above thirty years could supply. Page 98, line 10. Cornaro was born at Venice in 1464, being the descendant of one of the noble families of that State. In early life, he is said to have injured his health by intemperance, and by in- dulging his propensity to anger > so as by the CORNARO. 231 age of thirty-five to have greatly impaired his constitution ; but that when he perceived the bad effects of his unregulated passions and ap- petites, he succeeded in acquiring such a command over himself , and in adopting such a system ef temperance, as to recover his health and vigour, and to enjoy life to an extreme old age. He died at Padua, in 1566, while he was sitting in his arm chair, being then above an hundred years old. " Such (says this amiable and happy old man, in the first of four Essays on a sober and temperate life) are the effects of this soher life, that at my present age of eighty three I have been able to write a very entertaining comedy, abounding with innocent mirth and pleasant jests. This species of com- position (he observes) is generally the child and offspring of youth, as tragedy is of old age ; the former being by its facetious, and sprightly turn, suited to the bloom of life, and the latter by its gravity, adapted to riper years." — The mild and equable temper, which he acquired by resolution and perseverance, appears to have had a great share in the health and vivacity, which marked his latter course of life. Speaking of 232 CORNARO. himself at the age of 86, he says, " I was born with a choleric disposition, insomuch that there was no living with me ; but I took notice of it, and considered that a person swayed by his passion, must at certain times be no better than a madman ; I mean, at those times, when he suffers his passions to predominate, because he then renounces his reason and understanding. I therefore resolved to make my choleric dis- position give way to reason ; so that now, though born choleric, I never suffer anger en- tirely to overcome me." — In the account which this amiable old man gives of the occupations which filled up his time, there is something ex- tremely pleasing and interesting : particularly when he speaks of the good health and spirits which he enjoys, and observes how gay, pleasant, and good humoured he was ; how free from every perturbation of mind, and every disagree- able thought ; in lieu of which, joy, and peace had so firmly fixed their residence in his bosom, as never to depart from it. — " I contrive, (he continues) to spend every hour with the greatest delight and pleasure ; having frequent oppor- tunities of conversing with many honourable CORNARO. 233 gentlemen, — men, valuable for their sense and good manners, their acquaintance with letters, and every other good quality. Then when I cannot enjoy their conversation, I betake my- self to the reading of some good book. When I have read as much as I like, I write ; endea- vouring in this and in every tiling else, to be of service to others to the utmost of my power. — My estate is divided by a wide and rapid branch of the river Brenta ; on both sides of which there is a considerable extent of country, con- sisting entirely of fertile and well cultivated fields. Besides, this district is now, God be praised, exceedingly well inhabited, which it was not at first, but rather the reverse ; for it was marshy, and the air so unwholesome, as to make it a residence fitter for snakes than men. But on my draining of the waters, the air mended ; and the people resorted to it so fast, and increased to such a degree, that it soon acquired the perfection, in which it now appears , hence I may say with truth, that I have offered on this place an altar and temple to God, with souls to adore him. These are things, which afford me infinite pleasure, com- 234 CORNARO. fort and satisfaction, as often as I go to see and enjoy them. — At the same seasons every year, I revisit some of the neighbouring cities; and enjoy such of my friends as live there, taking the greatest pleasure in their company and conversation : and by their means I also enjoy the conversation of other men of parts, who live in the same places ; such as architects, painters, sculptors, musicians, and husbandmen, with whom this age most certainly abounds. I visit their new works ; I revisit their former ones ; and I always learn something, which gives me satisfaction. I see the palaces, gardens, anti- quities; and with these, the squares and other public places, the churches, and fortifications : leaving nothing unobserved, from whence I may reap either entertainment or instruction. But what delights me most is in my journeys backwards and forwards, to contemplate the situation and other beauties of the places I pass through ; some in the plain, others on hills, adjoining to rivers and fountains, with a great many fine houses and gardens. — Such are my genuine and no trifling satisfactions ; such are the recreations and diversions of my old age CORNARO. 235 which is so much the more to be valued than the old age, or even youth of other men ; be- cause being freed by God's grace from the perturbations of the mind and the infirmities of the body, it no longer experiences any of those contrary emotions, which torment a number of young men, and many old ones destitute of strength and health, and every other blessing." — His diet consisted of bread, meat, eggs, and soup. He was very temperate in point of quan- tity, not exceeding in the day three quarters of a pound of food, and a pint of new wine. He adopted this regimen, finding it best agree with his stomach, which was naturally weak. To others he recommends more variety and quan- tity of food, if they find it agree with them. His preference of new wine, was occasionad by wine of more than a year old, not so well agreeing with his stomach. He passed with health and comfort beyond his hundredth year, and died, as he had lived for his last threescore years, exempt from pain and suffering. 236 FLOYER. Page 98, line 19. Sir John Floyer was Physician to Queen Anne. He died in January 1734. — In one of the Bishop's letters to Mr. Knightly, (dated from Hartlebury, 4th July 1730) the following passage occurs, referring to this gentleman— * Sir John Floyer has been with me some 6 weeks ; and all my neighbours are surprised c to see a man of eighty-five, who has his me- ' mory, understanding, and all his senses good ; c and seems to labour under no infirmity. — He € is of a happy temper $ not to be moved with ' what he cannot remedy ; which, I really be- c lieve, has in a great measure helped to pre- ' serve his health and prolong his days.' Page 114, line 2. This alludes to the operations of " the So- u ciety for promoting Christian Knowledge, u and of the Society for the propagation of the " gospel in foreign parts." The recent esta- blishment of a third, — " The British and BIBLE SOCIETY. 237 c Foreign Bible Society,"— its astonishing ex- ertions, and its rapid increase and success, — will naturally recur to the reader's mind, In the short period of ten years, it has supplied almost every nation and language of the earth with the Bible. In 1805, its income was only equal to an expenditure of six hundred and ninety -one pounds. In consequence however in some degree, of an ill-founded jealousy and opposition, its income was increased in 1811, to more than £32,000 ; and in the next year (1812) to above U] 6,000. In 1813, it exceed- ed L87,000; and in 1814 the year's receipts amounted to nearly one hundred thousand pounds; which have been applied, in convey- ing the word op god not only to our own countrymen, but to every nation, and kindred, and tongue and people. Like the little cloud seen from the top of Mount Carmel, it has kept increasing, till it is now pouring down the living water, not only on the British dominions, but throughout the whole earth. Of the sum which I have mentioned of L\ 00,000. (the income of the last year 1814, above sixty thousand pounds were contributed by four hundred and eighty- 238 BIBLE SOCIETY. six auxiliary and branch Societies, connected with it in the British dominions. The publi- cations of the sacred Scriptures, made or pro- moted by the Bible Society, extend to fifty- five different languages and dialects. With a pe- cuniary assistance from the Society of L28,700. there have been printed abroad, in the same year, 200,000 Bibles and Testaments, for the use of the foreign poor of every sect and de- nomination, and in every quarter of the globe. This is exclusive of the sum of L6 1,21 7- 1 8f. Id. expended in the same year by the same Society, in printing Bibles and Testaments, for the sup- ply of our own poor at home. — The existence and exertions of these three great socie- ties, for purposes so benevolent and disinte- rested, are indeed most honourable to the age and country, in which we live; and offer a powerful antidote to the evils incidental to com- merce, opulence, luxury, and extended domi nion. May they long flourish for the benefit of mankind! Dec. 21st, 1815. CHILLINGWORTH. 239 Page 116, line 18. Mr. Chillingworth, whom Archbishop Tillotson justly calls the glory of his age and nation, was bom at Oxford in 1602. Archbishop Laud, then a Fellow of St. John's College, was his godfather. He was scholar and afterwards fellow of Trinity College, Ox- ford: when he was prevailed upon by one Fisher, a Jesuit, to quit the English Church, for that of Rome, and to remove to the Jesuits' College at Doway. For his return to the English Church, he was chiefly indebted to the correspondence and arguments of his godfather Archbishop Laud, then Bishop of London. Upon full and serious inquiry, he afterwards became an enlightened and zealous Protestant. He had refused Church preferment, from scruples as to someof the thirty-nine articles, and the Athana- sian Creed. These scruples, however, were after- wards removed by a conviction, that it was not a subscription, declaratory of assent or belief, (as he had considered it) but to articles of peace and union, not to be preached against. Dur- ing the civil war, he was very zealously attached 240 CHILLINGWORTH . to the royal cause; and having been taken prisoner in Arundel castle in December 1643, died a few weeks after, in consequence of the hardships he endured. He was then in his 42d year. His great work, intitled " the religion OF PROTESTANTS A SAFE WAY TO SALVATION," is unequalled in perspicuity and closeness of argument. Mr. Locke proposes it, as the ob- ject of study for all who would excel in right reasoning. His defence of our separation from the Church of Rome, should be well considered by those Protestants, who are disposed to deal hardly with other denominations of Christians. — ' By the religion of Protestants (he says) I c do not understand the doctrine of Luther, or € Calvin, or Melanchton; — nor the confession € of Augusta, or Geneva, nor the catechism of 4 Heidelberg, nor the articles of the Church of c England, — no, nor the harmony of Protestant * confessions ; but that wherein they all agree, ' and which they all subscribe with a greater ' harmony, as a perfect rule of their faith and ' actions, — that is, the Bible. The Bible, I ' say, the Bible only, is the Religion of Protes- c tants ! — I for my part, after a long and (as I CHIIXINGWORTH. 24 1 * verily believe and hope) an impartial search c of the true way to eternal happiness, do pro- € fess plainly, that I cannot find any rest for * the sole of my foot, but upon this rock only. c I see plainly and with my own eyes, that * there are Popes against Popes, Councils € against Councils, some Fathers against others, ' the same Fathers against themselves, a con- 4 sent of Fathers of one age against a consent 4 of Fathers of another age. Traditive inter- 4 pretations of Scripture are pretended ; but * there are few or none to be found ; no tradi- ( tion but only of Scripture, can derive itself ' from the fountain, hut may be plainly proved 6 to have been brought in, in such an age after c Christ, — or that in such an age, they were ' not in. In a word, there is no sufficient * certainty but of Scripture only, for any con- ' sidering man to build upon. — I will think no 4 man the worse man, nor the worse Christian I will love no man the less, for differing in c opinion from me ; and what measure I mete 4 to others, I expect from them again. I am c fully assured that God does not, and there- 6 fore that men ought not to require any more % c 242 FENELON. * of man than this,— to believe the scrip- f TURE TO BE God's WORD, TO ENDEAVOUR TO * FIND THE TRUE SENSE OF IT, AND TO LIVE C ACCORDING TO IT !" Page 122, line 7. Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, a younger son of the Count de la Mothe Fenelon, was born in 1651. Zealous and enthusiastic in the duties of his sacred profession, he no sooner was ordained priest, than he meditated a voyage to Canada, with a view of devoting his life to the conversion of the Indians. This being given up as then impracticable, he adopted the project of going as a missionary to the Levant. But his talents and zeal were des- tined to be otherwise employed. Having dis- tinguished himself both as a preacher and a writer, he was, in 1689, appointed Preceptor to the Duke of Burgundy and his two younger brothers, the three sons of the Dauphin. His extraordinary exertions and success in their education obtained for him the Archbishopric of Cambray. Soon after Fenelon's consecra- FBNELON. 243 tion, the tenets of the Quietists drew the attention of the public. H Their general pur- " port was, that man ought to love God for his u own perfections, without any reference to €€ future reward or punishment ; devoted silent- ■•-«*?, LD21A-40m-3,'72 II n iSSS"Jrf L S.HS™i« (Qll78810)476^A-82 Umveng of California %M&Cj ^m foemh %