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134
SIR MATTHEW HALE,
.:nt;
hope, his treasures, are in heaven ; and he endear? ours to walk suitably to such a hope."
His sentiments, respecting the inward direction and assistance of the Spirit of God to the soul, and his Holy Presence there, are deeply interesting.
" They who truly fear God, have a secret guidance from a higher wisdom than what is barely human, namely, the Spirit of truth and wisdom ; which does really, though secretly, pre- vent and dhect them. Any man that sincerely 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 direction of his father • and though the voice is not audible, 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, in the great and momentous concerns 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 external actions, occur- rences, and incidents, of my whole life, I have never been disappointed of the best direction, when I have, in humility, and a sense af my own deficiency, sincerely implored it.
'.. ^
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secret — fh is i^tmk and
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ih ad relies aitallyas}
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I bve .
SIR MATTHEW HALE.
135
" God sees the most secret chambers of our hearts. All the guests that are there, even our most intimate thoughts and purposes, and much more our most retired actions, are as legible to him, as if they were graved in brass.
"Are our hearts solicited by any object; by ourselves or by the persuasions of others, or by the suggestions of Satan; to impure speculations or sinful resolutions, to proud or arrogant con- ceptions of ourselves, to revengeful, uncharitable, or forbidden desires, to vain and unprofitable imaginations ; let us reflect that these thoughts (which even natural modesty or prudence, would shame us to express before mortal man) are all naked and manifest before the great and holy God. And dare we entertain such guests where our Creator is present ? in that place in which the Lord of Heaven is pleased, most justly and most mercifully to claim as his own 1 Consider — it is our Judge that sees us : it is the great Creator, before whom the angels of heaven veil their faces, not being able to behold his glory : and, which is more than all this to an ingenuous nature, it is 1 le to whom we owe ourselves and all that we are, lie to whom we have given up our names, and who has purchased our souls from destruction by the blood of his Son.
" Again : Is the God of heaven an eyewitness of
^MRS^':.H.K--»OX :&.
MRS _S. V V. HUN rrNGTON ^'■' ^^JNj^ 1910
I
' n
tlYTOu>/
t
J\ (y\ w^
THK '
POWER OF RELIGION >j
ON
THE MIND,
m
RETIREMENT, AFFLICTION,
AND AT
THE APPROACH OF DEATH;
EXEMPLIFIED IN THE TESTIMONIES AND EXPERIENCE OP PERSONS DIS- TINGUISHLD BY THEIR GREATNESS, LEARNING, OR VIRTUE.
Tls Immortality,— 'tis that alone,
Amidst Life's pains, abasements, emptiness,
The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill Young.
BY LINDI.EY MURRAY, Author of an Ehiglish Grammar, dec, &c
4 > I > •
raOM THE EIGHTEENTH EDITION, IMPHUVEO. .
N E W Y 0 R K : ' ^ '
PRINTED BY ORDER OF THE TRUSTEES OP THE RESIDUARY
ESTATE OF LINDLEY MURRAY.
Mahlon Day's Press, 374 Pearl-et.
183S.
ADVERTISEMENT
LiNDLEY Murray, the author of this work, in his last will, bequeathed certain funds to Trustees in America, his native country, for several benevolent objects, among which is the gratuitous distribution of " Books calculated to promote piety and virtue and the truth of Christianity" — and of which books he desired that " The Power of Religion on the Mind" might form a considerable part.
New Yor*, 1836.
INTRODUCTION.
To excite serious reflections on the un- satisfying and transitory nature of temporal enjoyments ; and to promote a lively con- cern for the attainment of that felicity, which will be complete and permanent; are the objects of the present pubhcation.
Piety and virtue, abstractedly considered, are truly amiable, and appear worthy of our earnest pursuit. But when recom- mended by the hves and testimonies of em- inent persons, who have known the world, and experienced the emptiness of its hon- ours, wealth, and pleasures, they derive additional importance ; and constrain us to acknowledge, that the greatest happiness of man is to be found in religion.
"" INTRODUCTION.
Among' the most important blessings, which the Divine Being has conferred upon manldnd, 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 ]\is faithful servants, or returning prodigals, to bear witness of his power and goodnesf:.^ and to encourage others to a life of purity, piety, and beneti- cence.
The following pages exhibit a few of those striking examples. In the quiet hour of reflection, they may contribute to arrest the careless and wandevinp- ; to animate the sincere and virtuous ; and to alarm those who have rejected the mcst import- ant truths, and who contemn the restraints of rehgion and virtue.
A number of our fellow-cr«"5atures, of dif- ferent periods, countries, and condit'cns b^ life, standing on the confines of n^cvtcjlltv
INTRODUCTION. ^
and bearino^ a ■uniform and undisormsed testimony to the power and excellence of religion, presents a solemn and interesting spectacle. With the prospect of immor- tality before them, and no longer influenced by those concerns and passions which ob- scure the understanding and harden the heart, they must be supposed 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 application to our heavenly Father, for the aid of his Holy Spirit, to enlighten and strengthen us, and to conduct us safely through the paths of life ! May his gra- cious protection be afforded at the close of our day, when the shadows of the evening shall approach, the glittering vanities of the w^orld be obscured, and all its friend- ships and resources be found unavailing !
A*
vi INTRODUCTION.
Trials and discouragements may, indeed, be expected to assail us, in this state of being. — On surveying our past lives, we must all be conscious, that, in numerous instances, v^^e have violated the Divine Lavv% and incurred the penalty due to our disobedience. And this view of our con- dition often occasions deep regret ; and is sometimes apt to overwhelm the drooping and diffident mind.
But whatever may have been our devia- tions from the paths of rectitude, we are encouraged to ask, and to hope for mercy. The goodness of God has freely offered to pardon all our sins, and receive us into favour, if we sincerely repent, and unfeign- edly believe in Jesus Christ the Saviour of the w^orld. In the Revelation of his will to mankind, the great design, conspicuous throughout, is, to manifest his love and compassion towards our fallen race, and to accompUsh our salvation. ^' His tender mercies are over all his works." "He
INTRODUCTION. V&,
'&L
taketh pleasure in those who hope in his mercy." ^^ As a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth onr frame : he remember- eth that we are dust." The blessed Re- deemer " came into the world to save sin- ners— to seek and to save that which was lost." And, to increase our gratitude and tnist, he has graciously assured us, that " there is joy in the presence of the angels of God, over one sinner that repenteth."— These, and many other passages in the Holy Scriptures, afford an abundant source of consolation and encouragement, to the truly humble and penitent believer in Christ. And when applied to the heart by Divine Grace, they produce in us a holy confi- dence and joy.
Thouo^h the love and mercies of God are great beyond expression, yet, for wise pur- poses, his children are not all equally fa- voured by him, on the bed of languishing and death. But they are all permitted to
rfli INTRODUCTION.
hope, that, when this awful period ap- proaches, He will preserve them from being distressed with mournful retrospects on the past, or with gloomy apprehensions of the future : that redeeming love will calm their fears and disquietudes ; sustain them un- der every conflict ; and animate them with the prospect of being soon admitted into the mansions of eternal feUcity.
ADVERTISEMENT,
In the latter editions of this work, the author has been sohcitous to make it ac- ceptable, not only to persons of mature years, but also to many in younger life. As the characters which it contains, exhibit a great variety of striking and animating views of piety and virtue, and strongly re- commend the Christian religion in particu- lar ; he indulges a hope, that instructers of youth will deem it a suitable book to be read, occasionally, by the higher classes of their pupils. It is of great importance to impress young minds with favourable sentiments of virtue and goodness ; and to convince them, by practical evidence, that religion affords the best support and enjoyment, in this life, and the only sure ground of hap- piness in the world to come.
To render the performance more instruc- tive, as well as more interesting, the author
X ADVERTISEMENT.
has introduced into it many important moral sentiments, and many reflections of a religious nature, as well as a consid- erable portion of useful, biographical in- formation. The introductory narratives rel- ative to the subjects of the work, will, he presumes, be found intimately connected with its chief design. They gratify curi- osity, respecting the general character of the persons whose solemn sentiments are exhibited; they confer additional impor- tance on the testimonies in favor of re- ligion; and they relieve the mind from the effect, which a succession of deeply serious matter would occasion.
Some passages in this work, have, in point of orthog- raphy or grammatical construction, been rectified ; and a few words and phrases have been altered, to adapt them better to the subject, or to present usage.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Joo — Solomon — Cyrus — Confucius — Socrates — Stephen, the Pro* tomartyr — The Apostle Paul — Ignatius — Polycarp — The Vene- rable Bede — Louis IX. King of France — Pope Eugenius — Car- dinal Beaufort — Cajsar Borgia page 1
CHAPTER II.
Cardinal Wolsey — Sir John Mason — Emperor Charles V. — Sir Thomas Smith — Bernard Gilpin — Jane, Queen of Navarre-— Sir Francis Walsingham — Lady Jane Grey — Sir Walter Raleigh — Richard Hooker 45
CHAPTER III.
Sir Philip Sidney — Sir Christopher Hatton — Lord Bacon — Sir Henry Wotton — Peter Du Moulin — Doctor Donne — Philip III. King of Spain — Catharine Bretterg — Oxensteim, Chancellor of Sweden — Hugo Grotius — John Selden — Cardinal Richelieu- Lord Harrington — Salmasius 87
CHAPTER IV.
Cardinal Mazarine — Bulstrode Whitelocke — Anna Maria Schar* man — Sir Matthew Hale — Du Renti — Princess Elizabeth— Williain Mompesson — Admiral Peun .,.......»«1?9
ifl CONTENTS.
^«. CHAPTER V.
Pascal — Robert Boyle — ^John Locke — John Janeway— Ead of Marlborough • •• 151
o
CHAPTER VI.
Lady Rachel Russel — Jane Ratcliffe — Sir Isaac Newton — Biahop Burnet — John, Earl of Rochester 174
CHAPTER VII.
Queen Mary — Herman Boerhaave — Joseph Addison — Ann Bay- nard — Elizabeth Rowe — Doctor Watts 20o
CHAPTER VIIL
Colonel Gardiner— Lady Elizabeth Hastmgs — H. Housman— Doctor Doddridge 232
CHAPTER IX.
Louis, Duke of Orleans — Soame Jenyns — Lord Lyttelton — Jonas Hanway — Anthony Benezet — James Hcrvey — ^Altamont, or the Death of the Libertine 259
CHAPTER X.
Baron Haller — John Howard — Newton's Letters — ^Margaret M. Althens — Zimmerman — James Hay Beattie — Elizabeth Smith—
EUzabeth Carter — Sir William Jones 299
Conclusion 369
Alphabetical Index 373
THE
POWER OF RELIGION, &a
CHAPTER I.
Job Solomon Cyras Confucius Socrates
Stephen the protomartyr The Apostle Paul
Ignatius Polycarp Louis IX. King of
France Pope Eugenius Cardinal Beaufort
Caesar Borgia.
SECTION I. THE PATRIARCH JOB.
This 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 the
East." His possessions were large : his family
was numerous and flourishing ; his own character
was fair and blameless : yet this person it pleased
God to visit with extraordinary reverses of for-
1
JOB.
tune. He was robbed of his whole substance. His sons and daughters all perished ; and he him self, fallen from his high estate, childless and re- duced to poverty, was smitten with sore disease His friends came about him, seemingly with the purpose of administering comfort ; 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 pious- ly exclaims : " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord !"
To his other calamities, this domestic affliction v/as added, that his wife, who ought to have soothed and alleviated his sorrows, provoked his indignation, by an impious speech. What firm- ness and resignation are marked in his answer to her ! " Thou speakest as one of the foolish wo- men speaketh. What ! shall we receive gc>od 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
JOB. 3
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 repaired by a new offspring. His name became again renowned in the East ; " and the latter end of Job was more blessed than the beginning."
SECTION II. SOLOMON.
Solomon is one of the most interesting and extraordinary characters mentioned in the- sacred Scriptures. The advice which this prince received from his father David, a short time before his de- cease, 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 lie , should give him." Humbled under the sense of the goodness of God to him, and of his incapa- 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
SOLOMON.
dently and happily rule the 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 him a temple at Jerusalem : and this order he faithfully 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 real happiness of his people. One can scarcely ever peruse it, without feeling a degree of the same pious ardour, which pervaded and animated the breast of the royal supplicant, on that solemn occasion. At this moment, he shone in his highest lustre : nor can we conceive any thing upon earth more dignified and majestic, than his deportment on the dedication of this sacred structure. We are compelled to revere the character of the monarch, who with such uncommon zeal, stood before his nobles, his princes, and his people, as a preacher of right- eousness, and as a priest of the most high God.
This illustrious prince, however, at one period of his life, so far mistook the source of true hap- piness, as to flatter himself with the hope of great enjoyments from the world. He sought for and ob- tained all the means of pleasure ; but found liim-
6 ^ SOLOMON.
self, in the end, greatly disappointed. The result, of this search and experiment, he gives us, in these memorable hnes : " 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. 1 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 whatever 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 vexation of spirit."
After this full persuasion, that real happiness was not to be found in sensual pleasure or worldly honours, he concludes with solemnly recommend- ing piety and virtue, as the great objects for which we were brought into being ; and which will not only yield the best enjoyments of life, but wall sup- port us in that day, when we must make up our hnax account. " Fear God, and keep his command- ments. This is the whole duty of man. For (Jod will bring every work into judgment, whether it be good or whether it be evil."
SOLOMON. 7
** 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 obscure retirement, declaims against pleasures which he never knew. They are not the invectives of a discontented man, who takes revenge upon the world by satirizing those enjoyments which he sought in vain to obtain. They are the conclu- sions of a great and prosperous prince, who had once given full scope, to his desires ; who was thoroughly acquainted witji life in its most flatter- ing scenes : and who now, reviewing all that he had enjoyed, delivers to us the result of long ex- perience and tried wisdom."
SECTION III. CYRUS.
Cyrus may justly be considered as the most accomplished prince that we read of in profane history. He was possessed of wisdom, moderation, magnanimity ; a genius for forming, and prudence for executing, the greatest designs. Of this ex- traordinary 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 nations, and to pro- mote the Divine will respecting the children of Israel.
When this great prince perceived the approach 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 he had con- ferred upon him, through the course of his life ; implored the same care and protection for his children, his country, and his friends ; and de- clared his elder son, Cambyses, his successor, leaving the other several very considerable gov-
CYRUS 9
emments. He gave excellent instructions to both of lliem. He observed, that the chief strength and support of the throne, were not vast extent of couhtry, number of forces, nor immense riches, but just veneration towards God, good understand- ing 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 hoiiours 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 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 man- kind, 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 benevolent, be assured
10 trmi.
they will augment your power and glory. With regard to my body, my sons, when life has for- saken it, enclose it neither in gold nor silver, nor in any other matter whatever. Restore it imme- diately 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.
SECTION IV. CONFUCIUS.
Confucius, the celebrated Chinese philosopher, was born in the kingdom of Lou, 551 years before the Christian era. When a child, he had a grave and serious deportment, ■which gained him respect, 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 grand- father, 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 prcigume," 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 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: "I attend
12 coNrucius.
diligently to you every time you speak ; and I have often heard you say, that a son, w^ho does not by his virtues support the glory of his ances- tors, does not deserve to bear their name."
At twenty-three years of age, when he had gamed 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 avarice, ambition, voluptuousness, and false policy, reigned amongst them, he thought it incumbent upon him to recommend a severe morality; and ac- cordingly, he began to enforce temperance, jus- tice, and other virtues ; 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 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 coun- sels, and the people reverenced him as a saint The good effects of his example and admonitions were, however, but temporary. He lived m times when rebellion, wars, and tumults, raged
CONFUCIUS, 13
throughout the emph-e. Men had Uttle leisure, and less inclination, to Hsten to his philosophy ; for, as we have observed, they were ambition? avariciouB, and voluptuous. Hence he oftftn 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 interest had reduced him to extreme poverty.
Some philosophers among his contemporaries were so affected with this sad state of things, that they retired into the mountains and de- serts, thinking that happiness could nowhere be found, but in seclusion from society. In vain they endeavoured to persuade Confucius to fol low their example : — " I am a man," said he, *' and cannot separate myself 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 dis- cipline 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 per- fect others. Human nature came to us from Heaven pure and without defect; but in process of time, ignorance, the passions, and evil examples, corrupted it. Reformation consists in restoring it to its primitive bca^'^j! to be perfect, we must
14 CONFUClUSv
xe-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 reason wdll tench us to think wisely, to speak prudently, and to behave ourselves worthily upon all occa- sions."
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 dif- ferent parts of the empire, to promote reforma- tion of manners among the people. All his in structions 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. He 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 thft 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
CONFUCIUS. 15
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 ; and, at the end of seven days, expired in the arras of his dis- ciples, in the seventy-third year of his age. Upon 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, wdth 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.
■C'
f
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 command our admiration. He was blessed with extraor- dinary talents, which were improved by all the learning that the age in which he lived could afford : and he appeared at Athens under the respectable character of a good citizen, a true phi losopher, and a wise instructor.
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 us." His great object in all his conferences and discourses, was, to lead men into an acquaintance with themselves ; to con- vince them of their errors ; to inspire them with the love of virtue ; and to furnish them with use-
SOCRATES. 17
tul moral instructions. In these benevolent la- bours he was indefatigable. He communicated liis instructions not only when he was in the cliair, 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 ne- cessities required, and returned the rest. Ob- serving at a particular time, the numerous ar- ticles of luxury which were exposed to sale at Athens, he exclaimed : " How many things are . here which I do not want !"
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. He was maliciously accused of corrupting the youth, and of despising religion ; and was, v/ith singular injustice, condemned to
18 SOCRATES.
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 degrading 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 thirty 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. He enter- tained them with the same cheerful temper, which he had ever manifested : and Crito observes, that the evening before his death, he slept as peace- fully as at any other time. On the day assigned for him to die, his friends repaired 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 tranquillity of his last moments might not be disturbed by unavailing lamenta tions, requested that she might be conducted home. With the most frantic expressions of griei she left the prison.
SOCRATES. 19
An interesting conversation then passed be- tween Socrates and his friends, which chiefly turned upon the immortahty 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, v/as an expectation, though not un- mixed with doubt, of a happy existence after death. " It would be inexcusable in me," said he, *' to despise death, if I w^ere not persuaded that it will conduct me into the presence 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 ne- cessary instructions to his domestics, and took his last leave of his children, the attendant of the prison informed him, that the time for drinking the poison was come. The executioner, though
20 SOCRATES.
accustomed to such scenes, shed tears as he pie- sented the fatal cup. Socrates received it without change of countenance, or the least degree of perturbation. Then offering up a prayer, that he might have a prosperous passage into the in- visible world, with perfect composure he swal- lowed the poisonous draught. His friends around him burst into tears. Socrates alone remained unmoved. He upbraided their pusillanimity, and entreated them to exercise a manly constanc}^ worthy of the friends of virtue. "What are you doing ?" said he to them, " I wonder at you. O ! what has become of your virtue ? was it not for fear of their falhng into these weaknesses that I sent away the women ? I have always heard that we ought to die peaceably, 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 prejudices
SOCRATES. 21
removed ; and time having given them an op- portunity for reflection ; the notorious iniquity of the sentence appeared in all its horrors. No ihmg was heard, throughout the city; but dis- courses in favor 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 seasonable reproaches, to (ingage us more warmly in the pursuit of virtue. Alas I how have we rewarded him for those im- portant services !" Athens was in universal mourn- ng and consternation. 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 gratitude of the Athenians towards this excellent man rose to the highest degree of veneration.
22 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 hgion ; but, in paganism, we find hght so mixed with darkness, rehgion and truth so blended with superstition and error, tliat the minds of Christians will be less edified by examples of this kind, than by those which exhibit piety and virtue, enlight- ened by the rays of the gospel, and animated by the assurance it gives of a happy immortality: we shall therefore confine ourselves, in the suc- ceeding 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 be neficent Parent, who will judge them by the de- gree of light, and the law, which it has pleased him to afford them. But whilst we indulge this charitable sentiment, it behooves us who, as Cliristians, are distinguished by pre-eminent ad- vantages, to improve them faithfully, to the honour of the Great Giver, the good of mankind, and »he edification of our own souls.
SECTION VI,
STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR.
This excellent man lived in the Apostolic age , and was remarka'ble for his faith, his wisdom, and an eminent portion of the Holy Spirit, which it had pleased God to bestow upon him. Devoted 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 endeavours were rendered successful, by the support of his Lord ; w^ho ena- bled him to confirm his Divine mission, by the miracles which he performed among the people.
But the pious exertions of this upright and be- nevolent man, for the happiness of others, could not secure him from the malice and opposition of his enemies, who were influenced by a far different spirit. When these adversaries of true religion, found themselves unable to resist "the wisdom and the spirit by which Stephen spake," they suborned witnesses to declare falsehoods, and to charge him with blasphem.y, before the council. On this occasion, his innocence, and the sustain- ing power of his Lord and Master, were eminently
24 STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR.
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 espous ed. He gave a concise, but comprehensive 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 Lavv^iver; and concluded with observing, that th«y themselves had been the betrayers and murderers of the Just One, the Lord and Saviour of the vTorld. This faithful re monstrance, instead of affecting them with humih- ation and sorrow, for their heinous transgression, excited the bitterest resentment against this firm and zealous Christian. " They were cut to the heart, and gnashed on him Avith their teeth." At this moment, Stephen was animated by an extra» ordinary interposition of Divine power. " Full of the Holy Spirit, he looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God." This miracu- lous vision he communicated to the councii and people ; 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
STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTTR. 25
yTiurderous 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 ' Lord, lay not this sin to their charge !' " — What a glorious triumph was this of religion, the pure and benign rehgion of Christ, over the passions of human nature, and the malevolence of evil spirits !
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 after- wards became very zealous for a strict observance of the law of Moses. But his zeal carried him to great excess. 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 compelled 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
THE APOSTLE PAUL. 27
gracious Being, whose religion he wished to extir- pate ; 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 enormity of his conduct, he cried out, " Lord, w^hat wouldst thou haye 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 estab- lishing his church among the Gentiles. The same zealous and ardent temper, by which he had been distinguished when attached to Judaism, be- mg now influenced and directed by Divine grace, was entirely converted to the holy purpose of pro pagating the gospel of peace and salvation.
In this most benevolent work, he was indefati- gable. 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 sac- rifice, to promote the blessed cause in which he had engaged. He thought that he could never sufficiently serve a Master, who had been so gra- cious and bountiful to him.
28 THE APOSTLE PAUL.
The enmity of his open and secret opposers, the various distresses and afflictions he encounter- ed, served only to increase the ardour of his pious pursuits. The strong faith with which he was endued, raised him above all temporal considera- tions. " We are (said he) troubled on every side, yet not distressed ; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroyed." — " I am filled with comfort I am exceedingly joyful in all our tribulation.' Supported by Divine grace and future prospects, he seems to have considered all the labours and sorrows of this life, but as a drop of the ocean, as a grain of sand on the seashore, compared with that exalted state of happiness which awaited him, and which would last for ever. " Our light af- fliction, (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 humility, self-denial, patience, resignation, and fortitude ; of his love to God, and love to man. His epistles contain a clear display of the doctrines of Chris- tianity, 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 APOSTLE PAUL 29
The nature and design of this work, will not allow us to recite many of the interesting occur- rences in the life of this Apostle. We have, however, in addition to those already mentioned, selected the following, as striking proofs of the power of religion on his mind.
After having long acted as the Apostle of the Gentiles, his mission called him to go to Jerusalem, 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 favorite 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 leply 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 be- fall me there ; save that the Holy Spirit witnesseth
3*
30 THE APOSTLE PAUL.
in every city, saying, that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these things move me ; neither count I my Hfe 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 per- ceive 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 consequences 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 departure 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 ? 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 ?
SECTION VTTT
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 rehgion; 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 good things to come ; and never to be deterred fiom 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 /night be proper to inspire terror and discouragcir.ont m the hearts of the Christians at Romt\ He was condemned to die for his faith m 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
32 IGNATIUS.
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 h.s 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 would 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 : " Now, 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 Chris- tian fortitude, he met the wild beasts assigned for his destruction, and triumphed in death.
SECTION IX.
POLYCARP.
PoLYCARP, an eminent Christian father, was born in the reign of Nero. Ignatius recommended the church at Antioch to the care and superin- tendence of this zealous father; who appears to have been unwearied in his endeavours to preserve the peace of the church, and to promote piety and virtue amongst men.
During the persecution which raged at Smyrna, in the year 167, the distinguished character of Polycarp attracted the attention of the enemies of Christianity. The general outcry was, " Let Polycarp be sought for." When he was taken before the proconsul, he was solicited to reproach Christ, and save his life : but with a holy indigna- tion, he nobly replied : " Eighty and six years have I served Christ, who has never done me any injury : how then can I blaspheme my King and Saviour ?"
When he was brought to the stake, the execu- tioner offered, as usual, to nail him to it ; but he said, " Let me alone as I am : he who has given me strength to come to the fire, will also give
34 POLYCARP.
me patience to abide in it, without being fastened with nails."
Part of his last prayer, at his death, was as follows : " O God, the father of thy beloved son, Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the knowledge of thyself; O God of angels and powers, of every creature, and 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 a portion amongst the number of martyrs.
0 Lord receive me ; and make me a companion of the saints in the resurrection, through the merits of our great High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ.
1 praise and adore thee, through thy beloved Son , to whom, with thee, and thy Holy Spirit, be all honour and glory, both now and for ever. Amen "
SECTION X. THE VENERABLE BEDE.
Bede, surnamed the Venerable, was born about the year 673, in the neighbourhood of Weremouth, 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 Weremouth. 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 dea- con, in the nineteenth, and presbyter, in the thirti- eth 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 Hebrev/ he attained a skill, which was very uncommon in that barbarous age : and, by his instructions and example, he formed many scholars. He made all his attainments 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 Scrip- tures is to be acquired, he united with his studies
36 THE VENERABLE BEDE.
regular prayer to God, that he Avould 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 learn- ing. The Roman Pontiff respected him so highly, that he gave him a cordial invitation to the me- tropolis of the church : but this he thought propei 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 Saxon language ; and, by this means, increased its celebrity. — The various merits of Bede ac- quire additional lustre, from the general igno- rance and corruptions of the time in which he lived. Notwithstanding this disadvantage, he ap- pears 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 moderation.
'i
THE VENERABLE BEDE. 37
In the last sickness of this pious and learned man, he was afflicted with a difficulty of breathing which continued about two weeks. His mind was however, serene and cheerful ; his affections were iieavenly ; and amidst all his inhrmities, he con- tinued daily to instruct his disciples. At this period, a great part of the night was spent in prayer and thanksgiving ; and the first employ- ment of the morning was, to ruminate on the Scriptures, and make supplication to God.
Amidst his bodily weakness, his mind was still so active, that he employed himself in 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 perceived that his end was drawing near, he met the solemn event, \vith 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 lung, 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 afiectet' ail who saw and heard him.
4
* SECTION XI.
LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE.
Louis IX., styled St. Louis, succeeded to the crown of France, in the year 1226. This king 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. Fen- elon says of this patriotic prince : " He was dis- tinguished by the nobleness of his sentiments ; he was without haughtiness, presumption, or se- verity. In every respect, he attended to the real interests of his country, of which he was as truly 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 be trained up in the fear and admonition of the Lord ; and used to devote a considerable part of his time to their relio-ious instruction. He often related to them the punishments which the pride, the avarice, and the debauchery of princes, brought upon themselves and their people.
LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 39
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 among Iiis subjects. He also strong- ly recommended to him justice, moderation, and all the virtues becoming a sovereign and a Christian He strictly enjoined him never to suf- fer any one, in his presence, to speak disrespect- fully 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 glorified by j^our means, and that we may be with him after this life, and praise him eternally."
His dying advice to his daughter Isabella, queen of Navarre, was also very expressive of his 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 loved. 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 Avill be yours ; and be assured that you can never love and serve him too much. He has well deserved
40 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE.
that we should love him ; for he first loved us. 1 wish you could comprehend 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 discourse, except with very virtuous persons. Obey, my daughter, your husband, your father, and your mother, in the Lord : you are boimd 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 obedience to none. En deavour, my daughter, to be an example of good- ness to all who may see you, and to all who may hear of you. Be not too nice about dress : if yov Iiave 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 ; and thus did he live himself. He died in great tr:-n quillity, in the year 1270.
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 Ufe, 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.
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 possessed in an humble and retired situation. Being attended by a company of monks, he turned his face to- wards 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 raised to the pontificate ; but been content to lead a quiet and religious life in thy monastery I"
SECTION XIII.
CARDINAL BEAUFORT.
Cardinal Beaufort was of royal extraction, tlie son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster ; and was commonly called, the rich cardinal of Winches- ter. 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, Ave 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 complained, and vented his afflicted soul to his weeping friends around him : " And must I then die I Will not all my riches save me ? I could purchase the kingdom, if that would prolong my life. Alas ! there is no bribing death. When my nephew, the duke of Bedford
CARDINAL BEAUFORT. 43
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 pur chase the triple crown. Alas ! how are my hopes disappointed ! Wherefore, oh, my friends ! let me earnestly beseech you to pray for me, and recom- mend my departing soul to God." — Thus died this unhappy cardinal, in the year 1447,
SECTION XIV» C^SAR BORGIA.
CAESAR Borgia, a natural son of Pope Alexan- der VI., was a man of such conduct and cha- racter, that Machiavel has thought fit to propose 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 im- posed some restraints upon him, he soon deter- mined to resign it, that he might have the greater scope for practising the excesses, to which his natural ambition and crueky prompted him ; for cruel, as well as ambitious, he was in the highest degree. After this, he was made duke of Valen- linois, 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 happened in the 3^ear 1507,) show, how- ever, that his policy was confined to the concerns of this life ; and that he had not acted upon lliat 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 ; and now, alas ! I am to die, although entirely unprepared."
CHAPTER II.
Cardinal Wolsey — Sir John Mason — Emperor Charles V — Sh" Thomas Smith — Bernard Gilpin — Jane, Q.ueen of Navarre — Sir Francis Walsingham — Lady Jane Grey — Sir Walter Raleigh — llichard Hooker.
SECTION I. CARDINAL WOLSEY.
Thomas Wolsey, a distinguished person m (he reign of Henry VIIL, was born in the year 1471 ; and it is said he was the son of a butcher at Ipswich. Being made chaplain to the king, he had great opportunities of gaining his favour ; to obtain which he practised ail the arts of obsequi ousness. Having gradually acquired an enthe as- cendency over the mind of Henry, he successively obtained several bishoprics ; and, at length, was made archbishop of York, lord high chancellor of England, and prime minister ; 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 revenues were immense, and his influence unbounded, his pride and ostentation
46 CARDINAL WOLSEY.
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 splendour, he was suddenly precipitated into ruin. His am- bition to be pope, his pride, his exactions, and his opposition to Henry's divorce, occasioned his dis- grace. This sad reverse so affected his mind as to bring on a severe illness, which soon put a pe- riod to his days. A short time before he left the world, the review of his life, and a consciousness of the misapplication 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 re- ceive for my incessant pains and study, not re- garding my service to God, but only to my prince."
With these painful reflections this famous car- dinal finished his course. He affords a memorable instance of the vanity and inconstancy 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 reign of four sovereigns, (Henry VIII., Ed- ward VI., Mary, and Ehzabeth,) had been privy- counsellor to them all, and an attentive observer of the various revolutions and vicissitudes 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 liave 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 IriQ greatest wisdom, temperance the best physic, and a good conscience the best estate. And were I to live again, I would change the court for a cloister, my privy-counsellor's bustle for a hermit's retire- ment, 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/*
48 SIR JOHN MASON.
The chief field, bolh of the duty and of the im provement 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 go- vernment and subordination amongst men, it fol- lows, that high offices and stations of dignity, are compatible with true religion. It is, however, pos- sible, that the minds of persons in authority, may be so much engaged with temporal 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 limita- tion to all our laboiurs for the good of others.
From the regret expressed by Sir John Mason, It appears that his error consisted, not in having served his king and country, in the eminent stations in which he had been placed ; but in hav- ing suffered his mind to be so much occupied with business, as to make him neglect, in some de- gree, the proper seasons of religious retirement and the prime duties which he owed to lua Creator,
SECTION III. 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 ol which he was victorious ; to have obtained six triumphs, conquered four kingdoms, and to have added eight principalities to his dominions : an almost unparalleled instance of worldly prosperi- ty, 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 con- vinced of the emptiness of earthly magnificence, he became disgusted with all the splendour that surrounded him ; and thought it his duty to with- draw from it, and spend the rest of his days in religious retirement. Accordingly, he volun- tarily resigned all his dominions to his bi other and son ; and after taking an affectionate and last farewell of the latter, and of a numerous retinue
60 CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY-
of princes and nobility that respectfully attended him, he repaired to his 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 mmd, 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 m religious exercises, and innocent employments ; 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 arm.s, and the dread of being subjected to his power. Far from taking any part in the political transactions of the w^orld, he restrained his curi- osity even from any inquiry concerning them ; and seemed to view the busy scene he had abandoned, with an elevation and indifference of mmd, which arose from his thorough experience
CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 61
of its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflec- tion 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 compre- hensive testimony : " I have tasted more satisfac- tion 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."
SECTION IV. SIR THOMAS SMITH.
Sir Thomas Smith was bom in tlie year 1514, and received a liberal and polished education. Ip 1 542, he was made king's professor of civil law, in the university of Cambridge, and chancellor of the diocess of Ely. He was several times em- ployed by Queen Elizabeth, as her ambassador to the court of France ; and executed the high office of secretary of state to that princess. His abili- ties were excellent, and his attainments uncom monly great. He was a philosopher, a physician, a chymist, a mathematician, a linguist, an histo- rian, and an architect.
This distinguished person, a short time before his decease, was much affected by the prospect of his dissolution, and of a future state. He sent to his friends, the bishops of Winchester and Worcester, and entreated them to state to him, from the Holy 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."
SIR THOMAS SMITH. 63
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. How much wiser and happier should w^e be, if we engaged in temporal concerns with moderation and restraint, the true way to extract all their good, and considered our- selves as strangers and pilgrims travelling towards a belter country ; instead of being occupied, un- der continual anxiety and frequent disappointments, )n the delusive chase of interest and pleasure, till ihe scene is nearly closed, and the mind left to the anguish of a melancholy retrospect !
The flood of time is fast approaching : it will soon pass over us, and bury, in silence and obliv- ion, all our busy, fascinating schemes and engage- ments ; and leave nothing to survive the WTCck, but virtue and goodness, and the consciousness of Divine favour. What urgent motives for ccr- rectinfT our terrestrial aims and labours, and for strivins: to become heirs of that kingdom, whose honours and enjoyments are perfect, and will last for ever ! 5*
SECTION V
BERNARD GILPIN.
Bernard Gilpin, a man of exalted virtue, and distinguished among his contemporaries by the title of The Apostle of the Noj^th, was descended from a respectable family in Westmoreland, and born in the year 1517.
As he early discovered much seriousness of dis- position, and an inclination to a contemplative 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 founda- tion of Queen's college. In this situation, he soon became distinguished for the diligence with which he applied to his academical studies ; and for his proficiency in that knowledge, which the defec tive systems of 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 gen tieness of his manners?
64
BERNARD GILPIN. 65
His attachment to the Roman Catholic rehgion, m which he had been educated, was, for some time, strong and decided. But an honest and ardent desire to discover truth ; an unprejudiced study of the Holy Scriptures ; and frequent con- ferences with pious and learned men ; produced, at length, a thorough persuasion of the truth of the Protestant reformed religion. This cause he stead- ily and zealously supported, through the whole re- maining 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 oppo- sition of his enemies, and other circumstances, would not permit him to occupy with satisfac- tion, he accepted the rectory of Houghton-le- Bpring. This living was of considerable value ; out the duty of it was proportionably laborious. [t was so extensive, that it contained not fewer than fourteen villages. It had been much neglect- ed ; 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 uncul- tivated : and, by resolution, diligence, prudence, and perseverance, he finally succeeded in producing an astonishing change, not only in the character sind manners of his own parishioners, but of the
56 BERNARD GILPIN.
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, respect, and at- tachment.
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 preferment on one by whom it was more wanted." In these perilous limes, (the reign of the sanguinary Queen Mary,) his steady, though mild and temperate, adherence to the reformed religion, involved him in many dangers and difficulties ; from which he was often happily extricated, under Divine Providence, by the favour of Bishop Tonstal, and by his own judicious conduct. The malice of his enemies , was probably increased by his unaffected piety, and exemplary life ; which formed a striking
BERNARD GILPIN. 67
sntire on their negligence and irregularities. They determined, therefore, to remove, if possible, so disagreeable a contrast, and sg able a reformer. After many unsuccessful attempts to disgrace and destroy him, their hatred so far prevailed, that ihey 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 him- self to suffer for the truth, he now determined not to decline it. He therefore, "vvith 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 Avas apprehended ; but before he reached London, an account of Queen Mary's death was received ; by which event he was delivered from any farther prosecution. Thus providentially rescued from his enemies, he returned to Houghton through crowds of people, who expressed the utmost joy, and rendered thanks to God for his deliverance.
On the accession of Elizabeth, he was offered the bishopric of Carhsle but this he modestly and
58 BERNARD GILPIN*
firmly declined to accept. Not long afterward, the provostship of Queen's college, Oxford, was tendered to him. This honour and emolument he likewise declined. He believed that he could be more useful, in his present charge at Houghton, than elsewhere : and this was a consideration su- perior 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 ren dered to his fellow-creatures : and therefore, to the surprise of his friends, he undertook to build and endow a gi'ammar 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 accommodate them. Gilpin therefore fitted up a part of his own house for that purpose ; where he boarded twenty or thirty children ; and bestowed clothing and maintenance on the greater part of them, whose parents were in poor circumstances.
Gilpin's hospitable manner of living was the ad miration of the whole country. Strangers and travellers found a cheerful reception at his board. He was also pleased with the company of men of worth and letters, who used much to frequent his
BERNARD GILPIN 69
house. When Lord Burleigh, then lord-treasurer, was sent by Queen Elizabeth to transact some affairs in Scotland, he could not resist the desire Avhich 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 intended visit ; but the economy of so plentiful a house was not easily disconcerted. Gilpin received his noble guest with so much trae politeness ; and treated him and his whole retinue in so affluent and generous a manner, that the treasurer often afterwards said, " he could hardly have expected more at Lambeth." V/hile Lord Burleigh stayed at Houghton, he took great pains to acquaint himself with the order and regularity, 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 m.anners ; and every social virtue regulated by exact Drudence. The statesman begran to un- bend; and he could scarcely avoid comparing, with a kind of envious eye, the unquiet 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 assurances of his readiness to render him any services at court, or elsev/here. When he had mounted a hill about a mile from HoughtCJTi, and which commands the vale, he
60 BERNARD GILPIN.
turned his horse to take one more view of the place ; and having kept his eye fixed upon it for some t^me, he broke out into these exclamations : " There is the enjoyment of h'fe indeed ! Who can blame that man for not accepting a bishopric? What does he want to make him greater, or hap- pier, or more useful to mankind ?"
' After the lapse of many years spent in the cheerful, but laborious discharge of duty, this pious man perceived, from his many infirmities, that his end was di'awing near. He told his friends his ap- prehensions ; and spoke of his death with tliat happy composure which usually attends the con- clusion of a good life. He was soon after confined to his chamber. His understanding continued perfect to the last. Of the manner of his takino leave of the world, we have the following account"
A few days before his death, having ordered iiimself 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 witnes- .ses at the great day, that he had endeavoured to do his duty among them ; and he prayed G od to rememiber them after he was gone. He would not have them weep for him. If ever he had told them any thing good, he would have them remember il^*at in his stead. Above all things, he exhorted
BERNARD GILPIN. 61
them to fear God, and keep his commandments ; telling them, if they would do this, they could never be left comfortless.
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 theit attention, but that virtue was of much greater im portance 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 oJ his life, he spent in prayer, and in broken con versations with some select friends. He often mentioned the consolations of Christianity ; de dared that they were the only true ones ; and that nothing else could bring a man peace at the last. — He died in 1583, and in the sixty-sixth year of his age.
In the preceding sketch of the life of this emi- nent Christian, and in the account of his death, we perceive the animating power of religion on his mind. The following faithful summary of his
6
62 BERNARD GILPIN.
character, marks very conspicuously the happy in fluence of the same Divine principle ; and exliibits 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 facetious His general behaviour was very affable. His se- verity 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 mo roseness ; or could mix more agreeably with what- ever 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 exceeded what calm reason could justify. Extravagance was, with him, another word for injustice. Amidst all his business, he found leisure to look into his affairs ; well knowing that frugality is the support of charity.
He was the most candid interpreter of the words and actions of others : where he plainly saw fail- ings, he would make every possible allowance foi them. He used to express a particular indignation at slander ; often saying, " Slander, more than theft, deserves the gallows." He was remarkably
BERNARD GILPIN. 63
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 ingredi- ents of worldly prudence, he disdained. His per- severance in so commendable a practice, in what- ever difficulties it might at first involve him, raised his character, in the issue, above mahce and envy ; and gave him that weight and influence 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 eifects of religion : an efiect which his rehgion in the most striking m^anner produced.
With regard to his clerical office, no man could be more strongly influenced by a desire of dis- charging 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 literature. This was the more commendable in him, as he always had a strong inclination for retirement;
64 BERNARD GILPIN.
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 con science 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 ; bat, 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, 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 income, 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 ox acknowledgment, the generosity of his heart dis- dained.
No part of his character was more conspicuous' ■^ than his piety. He thought religion was his prin- cipal concern: and, of course, made the attain-
BERNARD GILPIN. 65
ment of just notions respecting it, his chief study. To what was matter of mere speculation, he paid htlle or no regard : such opinions only as influ- enced 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 consider- ed himself as looking after truths, which were to influence his conduct, and make him a better man. All his moral virtues became Christian ones : they were formed upon such motives, and they respected such ends, as Christianity approves and directs. It was his daily care to conform himself 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. Be- lieving in a particular providence, he was grateful to Heaven for every benefit ; and studied to im- prove religiously every afflictive 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, ihe title of the Northern Apostle. The parallel was indeed striking. His quitting the ancient doc- trines, in the utmost reverence of which he had been educated ; the persecutions he met with for the sake of his integrity ; the danger he often ran of martyrdom ; his contempt of the world ; his
6*
66 BERNABD GILPIN.
unwearied application to the business of his cal- ling : and the boldness and freedom with which he reproved the guilty, whatever their fortunes or stations were ; might justly characterize him a truly apostolical person.
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 moi'e 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 clos- est attainment of speculative virtue, maintains each worthy resolution that he forms ; and per- severes steadily, like this excellent man, in the conscientious discharge of the duties of that sta- tion, whatever it be, in which Providence has placed him !
This memoir is principally taken from a work entitled, " The Life of Bernard Gilpin : by William Gilpin, M. A." It is a valuable and interesting piece of biography.
SECTION VI. JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.
Tins 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 carefully educated 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 re- formed her court, but the 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 attend 4.he nuptials of her son and the king of France's sister, fell a sacrifice to the cruel machinations of the French court, against the Protestant reli- gion The religious fortitude and genuine piety, with which she was endjsd, did not, however, desert he; m this gre^t ^^woflict, and at the ap- proach o ieath.
08 JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.
To some that were about her, near the con elusion 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 v^rhatsoever he does with me, he so orders it, that, in the end, it shall turn to my everlasting good."
When she sav/ her ladies and women weeping 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 years; but added: "I doubt not that God him- self will be their father and protector, as be has ever been mine in my greatest afflictions : I, there- fore, commit them wholly ta bis government 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 hfe, that I may attain to the felicity which thou hasi promised to bestow upon me."^
SECTION VII. SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM.
Sir Francis Walsingham, an eminent person in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was born at Chislehurst in Kent, of an ancient and honour- able family. lie made great progress in his studies at Cambridge : and, to complete his educa- tion, travelled into foreign countries, where he acquired various languages, and gi^eat accomplish- ments. He was three times sent ambassador to France. Queen Elizabeth made him secretary of state, and employed him in the most important affairs. He had, indeed, a great share in pro moting and accomplishing the extraordinary meas- ures which distinguished that illustrious reign. It may be justly 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 man- aging the secret recesses of the heart. To his sagacity and diligence, under Divine Providence, may be attributed the defeat of the king of Spain's grand Armada.
This great man furnished a remarkable proof of his 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
70 8IR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM.
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 tune to begin to live to ourselves, and to our God." This giving occasion for some facetious person of the court, to visit, and to try to divert him ; he ex pressed himself to the following effect : " Ah ' while we laugh, all things are serious around us. God is serious who preserves us, and has patience towards us ; Christ is serious who shed his blood for us ; the Holy Spirit is serious when he strives with us ; the whole creation is serious in serving God and us ; all are serious in another world : how suit- able then is it, for a man who has one foot in the grave. to be serious ! and how can he be gay and trifling?"
This enlightened and excellent person was, doubtless, friendly to a cheerful temper of mind, and to innocent recreations, on all suitable occj, sions : but he knew and felt, that there are eventa and circumstances in our lives, which call for pe culiar circumspection and seriousness, as most con genial with our situation, and most conducive to our best interests
Hr^ lor fill. i ? DY JANE GREY.
T.II5 ex'',e^j''.nt personage was descended from «lie royal line of England, by both her parents. She was carefully educated in the prmciples of the Reformation. Besides the solid endowments of piety and virtue, she possessed the most enga- ging disposition, and the most accomplished 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 occu- pations 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 hunting in the park; and upon his ad- miring 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 gayety."
72 LAI>Y J.\IS'£ GREY.
This amiable lady fell an innocent victim lo the wild ambition of the duke of Northumberland ; who having effected a marriage between her and Ills son, Lord Guildford Dudley, 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 v/as but eighteen years of age j 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 aifection, had never opened itself to the flattering allure-n ments of ambition ; and the information of hex 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 conse- quences attending an enterprise so dangerous, not to say so criminal ; and desired to remain in that private station in which she was born. Over- come at last by the entreaties, rather than by the reasons, of her father and falher-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, during ten days, re- turned to a private life, with much more satis-
LADY JANE GREY. ,' 73
faction 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 mercy to the prisoner's soul, in- duced her to send priests, who molested her with perpetual disputation ; and even a reprieve of three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be persuaded, 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 argiiments, 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 Guild- ford, desired permission to see her ; but she re- fused her consent, and sent him word, that the tenderness of their parting would overcome the fortitude of both, and would too much unbend iheir minds from that constancy, which their ap-
7
74 LADY JANE GREY.
proacliing end required. Their separation, 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.
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 withm 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, on which she had just written three sentences, on seeing her husband's dead body ; one in Greek, another in Latin, a third in English. The purport
LADY JANE GREY. 75
of them was, that human justice was against his body, but that Divine Mercy would be favourable to 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 bystanders, in which the mildness of her disposition, led her to take the blame entirely on herself, without uttering 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 suffi- cient 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 satis- faction 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 punishm.ent, for be- ing made the instrument, though the unwilling instrument, of the ambition of others : and that the story of her life, she hoped, might at least be useful, by proving that innocence of intention excuses not actions that any way tend to the de- struction of the commonwealth. After uttering
7.6. LADY JANE GREY.
these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by her women ; and with a steady, serene counte nance, submitted herself to the executioner
We 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, " the Scriptures much, and had at- tained frreat knowled^re of relimous subjects. But with all her advaniages of birth and parts, she was so humble, so gentle and pious, that all peo- ple both admired and loved her. She had a mind wonderfidly raised above the world ; and at the age, when others are but imbibing the notions of philosophy, she had attained the practice of the highest precepts of it. She was neither lifted up with the Iiope of a crown, nor cast down, when she saw her palace made afterwards her prison ; but maintained an equal temper of mind in those great inequalities of fortune, that so sudden- ly exalted and depressed her. All the passion which she expressed, was that whicli is of the noblest sort, and which is the indication of tendei and generous natures, being much affected with the troubles which her husband and father suf- fered on her account. She rejoiced at her ap- proaching end, since nothing could be to hei more welcome, than to pass from tliis valley of misery, to that heavenly throne to which she was to be advanced."
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 resolution, and strict honour and honesty. As a soldier, a states- man, 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 projected. He was the dis- coverer of Virginia ; and took effectual measures for the settlement of the country, and for promo- ting its prosperity.
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. Du- ring the reign of Elizabeth, these machinations 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. Ke was afterwards trusted by James with a commission of considerable importance ; and thus virtually
7*
78 8IR WALTER RALEIGH.
pardoned for all supposed offences. The malice of his enemies, however, at length prevailed against him ; and he was pusillanimously sacri- ficed to appease the Spaniards, who, whilst Ra- leigh lived, thought every part of their dominions m danger.
He was executed in Old Palace Yard, in the 66th year of his age. His behaviour on the scaf- fold 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 prospect of death before him, he wrote the following letters to his son, and to his wife. They contain many solemn and affecting admonitigns ; 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 instructions, sink deep into thy heart. Seek not riches basely, nor attain them by evil means. Destroy no man for his wealth, nor take any thing from the poor ; for the cry thereof will pierce the heavens : and it is most detestable before God, and most dishonour- able before worthy men, to wrest any thing from the needy and labouring soul. God will never
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 79
prosper thee, if thou offendest therein. Use thy poor neighbours and tenants well. Have compas- sicn 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 soul, 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 practices 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 reputation, or thy estate. Be assured that no man is wise or safe, but he that is honest. Serve God ; let him be the author of all thy actions. Commend all thy en- deavours to him, that must either wither or pros- per 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. So God direct thee in all thy ways, and fill 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 mv last lines. My love I send you, which you may keep when I am dead ; and my counsel, that you may remember it, when I am no more.
80 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
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 destruction patiently, and with a heart like yourself. First, I send you all the thanks which my heart can conceive, or my words ex- press, for your 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 can- not avail me, who am but dust. Thirdly, you shall understand, that my lands were conveyed, 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 taial. Most sorry am I, that being surprised by death, I can leave you no better estate: God hath pre- vented all my determinations; that great God, who worketh all in all. If you can live free from
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 81
want, care for no more ; for the rest is but vanity. Love God, and begin betimes ; in 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 serve and fear God whilst he is young, that the fear of God may grow up in him : then will God be a husband to you, and a father to him ; a husband and a 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 ; for the world thinks I was very rich. Have a care of the fair pretences of men ; for no greater misery can be- fall you in this life, than to become a prey unto 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. Remember your poor child, for his father's sake, who loved you in his happiest estate. 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 in his own respect dcspiseth 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
82 EIR WALTER RALEIGH.
world. Beg my dead body, which Hving was de- nied 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, infinite, and inscrutable ; God Almighty, who is goodness itself, the true light and life, keep you and yours, and have mercy upon me, and forgive my perse- cutors and false accusers, and send us to meet in his glorious kingdom ! My dear wife, farewell ! bless my boy ; pray for me ; and may my true God hold you both in his arms !
"Yours that was, but not now mine own.
** Walter RaleighJ*'
SECTION X.
RICHARD HOOKER.
Richard Hooker was born near Exeter, in ihe year 1553. He possessed great learning and sound judgment ; and distinguished himself by a celebrated work, entitled, " The Laws of Eccle- siastical Polity." 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
In 1585, he was made master of the Temple, which was deemed, by most persons, a noble pre- ferment. But it was not so suitable to Hooker's temper, as the retirement of a living in the coun- try ; especially as he had to encounter much oppo- sition. He therefore entreated the archbishop to remove him to a more peaceful residence. — " When I lost (said he) the freedom of my cell, which was my college, yet I found some de- gree of it in my quiet country parsonage. — But I am "Weary of the noise and oppositions of this place : and, indeed, God and nature did not intend me for contentions, but for study and quietness." — His desire was, to be placed in a
84 RICHARD HOOKER.
situation, "where (as he piously expresses him self) I may see God's blessings spring out of the earth, and eat my own bread, in peace and privacy ; a place where I may, without disturb- ance, meditate on my approaching mortality, and on that great account, which all flesh must give, at the last day, to the God of all spirits."
His exemplary and peaceable life did not, how- ever, secure him from enemies, by whom he was grossly calumniated, and charged with conduct which he abhorred. Over these attacks, the good providence 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, nor my reputation, is safe in my own keepmg ; 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 wit- nesses were risen up against me ; when shame was ready to cover my face ; when I was bowed down with a horrible dread, and went mourning all the day long ; then thou, O Lord, didst hear my complaint, pity my condition, and art now be- come my deliverer. As long as I live, I will magnify thy mercy, who didst not give me over to my enemies."
RICHARD HOOKER. 85
When his slanderers were about to be punished, he endeavoured to procure their pardon : hut finciing his labours for this pm-posc fruitless, ho observed, that " he would, however, pray, tlial (Jod would give them repentance, and patience to undergo their punishment." — Aher this deliv- cr;uice, he was often heard to say : " O, with what quietness did I enjoy my so»d, after I was free from the fears of this slander ! And how much more, after the conflict with myself, and the vic- tory over my desires of revenge !"
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 sorrov/ for the troubles in which he saw him involved, he humbly replied. in this manner : " My dear friend, I ought not to repine at what my wise Creator hatJi allotted lor me : but I ought to labour, as indeoa f do daily, to submit to his will, and to possess my soul in pa- tience and peace."
A short time before his death, this humble and truly good man, expressed himself as follows : " I have h'ved to see that this world is full of p(»rturbations ; and I have been long preparing 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 though I have,
8
86 . RICHARD HOOKER.
bv his grace, loved him in my youth, and feared him in my age, and laboured to have a conscience void of offence tovi^ards him, and towards all men ; yet, if thou. Lord, shouldst be extreme to mark vvliat 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 forgive ness of my unrighteousness, 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 submit to it. Let not mine, O Lord, but thy will bo 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 tliat inward joy, which the world can neither give, nor take from me. My con- science bearet.h me this witness ; and this witness makes the thoughi^ of death joyful. I could wish to live to do the churck more service ; but I can- not hope it ; for my days a^e past, 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 47th year of his age.
CHAPTER III.
Sir Philip Siduey Sir Christopher Ilation Loicl
Bacon Sir Henry Wotton Peter Du Moulin
Dr. Donne Philip III., King of Spain Catharine
Bretterg Oxenstiern, Chancellor of Sweden
Hugo Grotius John Selden Cardinal Richelieu
Lord Harrington Salmasius.
SECTION I. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
Sir Philip Sidney was born in Kent, in tlie year L554. He possessed shining talents; was well educated ; and at the early age of twenty one, was sent by Queen Elizabeth, as her ambas- sador to the emperor of Germany. He is described by the writers of that age, as the finest model of an accomplished gentleman that could be formed, even in imagination. An ami- able disposition, elegant erudition, and polite con- versation, rendered 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 Sid- ney's friend." His fame was so widely spread, that if he had chosen it, he might have obtained tlie crown of Poland.
88 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
But the glory of this Marcelhis of the Enghsh 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 32d year of his age.
This accomphshed person, at the solemn period of approaching death, when a just estimate of tilings is formed, and when the mind looks round for support and consolation, perceived that the greatest worldly honours are only splendid vani- ties, and have but a momentary duration. At this period, he was so dissatisfied with Ids " Arcadia," a romantic work, ill agreeing with his present serious 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 struck him with death at once ; but gave him space to seek repentance and recon- ciliation."
Compared with his present views of religion. Lis former virtues seemed to be nothing. When it was observed to liim, that good men, in the time of great affliction, found comfort and sup-
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 89
port, in the recollection of those parts of their lives, in which they had glorified God ; he humbly replied : " It is not so with me. I have no comfort that way. All 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 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, the more his con- solation and hopes increased. A short time before his dissolution, lie lifted up 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 c:^pressed with great seriousness and composure. " Love mv memory ; cherish my friends. Their fidelity to me may assure you that they are lionest. But, above all, govern your wills and affections, by the will and word of your Creator In me, behold the end of the w^orld, and all its
vanities."
8*
SECTION II. SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON.
Sir Christopher Hatton possessed great abilities, highly cultivated by study and business. He was remarkable 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 re- markable, that though he had never followed the profession of the law, his knowledge of it was so profound, that none of his decisions, as chan- cellor, were ever found deficient either in equity or judgment.
This learned man had a high veneration for the Holy Scriptures; and, a short tune before his death, particularly recommended to his relations, to search them seriously and diligently, in order to discover the will of God. *'It is," said he, "justly accounted a piece of excellent knowledge, to understand the law of the land, and the customs of oiir country ; but how much more excellent is it, to know the statutes of heaven, and the laws of eternity, the immutable and perpetual
«IR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. ^i
laws of justice and righteousness ! to know the will and pleasure of the great Monarch and uni- versal King of the world ! * I have seen an end of all perfection ; but thy commandments, O God ' are exceedingly broad.' "
The knowledge of the Divine will, is, indeed, the most important of all knowledge. Were we possessed of the most comprehensive understand ing, 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 Preserver of our lives, our Sovereign and our Judge ; we should, with a great deal of know- ledge, mistake our highest interests, and be miser . able for ever.
SECTION ni. 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 : —
" Sir Francis Bacon was a man who, for grcat- JI$S.3^ of genius, and compass of knowledge, did honour to his age and country ; I could almost say, to human nature itself. He possessed at once all those extraordinary talents, which were divided amongst the greatest authors of antiquity. He had the sound, distinct, comprehensive know- ledge of Aristotle, with all the beautiful lights, graces, and embellishments 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.
"I was infinitely pleased to find, among the works of this extraordinary man, a prayer of his own composing ; which, for its elevation of thought, and greatness of expression, seems rather the de- votion of an angel than of a man. His principal fault appears to have been, the excess of that virtue
LORD BACON. 93-
which covers a multitude of faults. This betrayed him to so great an indulgence towards his ser- vants, who made a corrupt use of it, that it strip- ped 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 hiy heavy upon him, we see him supported by the sense of his integrity, his zeal, his devotion, and liis 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 papers, written with his own hand : —
**'Most gracious Lord God, my merciful Fa- ther ! my Creator, my Redeemer, my Comforter ! 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 inten- tions. I have loved thy assemblies ; I have mourned for the divisions of thy church ; I have delighted in the brightness of thy sanctuary;
94 LORD BACON.
I have ever prayed unto thee, that the vine wliich 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 op- pressed 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 ene mies, I thought not of them, neither has the sun gone down upon my displeasure : but I have been as a dove, free from superfluity of maliciousness. Thy creatures have been my books, but tiiy Scrip- tures much more so. I have sought thee m the courts, the fields, and the gardens ; but I have found thee in thy temples.
" ' Thousands have been my sins, and ten thou sands my transgressions : but thy sanctifications have remained with me ; and my lieart, through thy grace, hath been an unquenched coal upon thine altar.
" ' O Lord, my strength ! I have, from my youth, met with thee in all my ways ; in thy fa therly compassions, in thy merciful chastisements, and in thy most visible providences. As thy fa- vours have increased upon me, so have thy correc- tions ; as my worldly blessings were exalted, so secret darts from thee have pierced me ; and when
LORD BACON. 95
I have ascended before men, I have descended in hunnilialion before ihee. And now, when J have been thinking most of place and honour, thy hand is heavy upon me, and has humbled me according to thy former loving-kindness, keeping me still in thy fatherly scliool, 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 proportion to thy mercies. Besides my innumerable sins, I con- fess before thee, that I am debtor to thee for the gracious talent of thy 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 ; but I have misspent it in things for which I was least fit : so I may truly say, my seal has been a stranger in the course of my pilgrim- age. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my Sav- iour's sake, and receive me into thy bosom, or guide me in thy Avays.' "
SECTION IV.
SIR HENRY WOTTON.
Sir Hex\ry Wotton, an Engiishnuin emmenl for learning, and for knowledge in slate aflairs, was born in the ycciY 1568. He was often em plo3'cd by James the First, as ambassador to seve ral of the European states ; and discharged the trust reposed in him, with ability, and to the satis- faction of the king. He enjoyed the favour of this prnice, and was much esteemed and admired by his contemporaries. But these honours did not afford 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 wisdom and regular deportment, yet near the end of liis days, when he reflected seriously on his past life, he felt great concern ; and often repeated these solemn expressions : " How much have I to repent of, and how little time to do it in !"
SECTION T. 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 min- isters, that the reformed church in France ever had to boast of." He was a man of such emi- nence, that James the first of England, employed him to attempt the accomplishment of a union between the reformed and Lutheran churches. This pious and excellent 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 par- ticularly 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 but punish- ment. Thou hast heaped blessings upon me. Thou hast honoured me with a holy calling : but I have not laboured according to the worth of it : I have mingled my own glory with thine. I have often neglected thy service, to seek my par- ticular interest. O, how much self-love ! what perverseness has opposed the kingdom of thy Son
9
98 peteh du moulin.
within me ! How often have I grieved ihy 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 compas sion. Lord, thou art faithful in thy promises. I am thy creature. Thou hast led me, and taught me, from my youth : 0 forsake 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 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 instrument. I am conscious that I have neg- lected 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 vio- lence every day at the same hour. Recovering from one of these fits, he said : " My God, how weary am T ! When shall I rest in thy bosom ^
PETEH DU MOULIN. 93
When shall I drink of the river of thy pleasures ? 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, waking about mid night, he said to a person who attended him, " I ghall now soon be relieved. I am going to my Fa- »,her and my God. He has heard me indeed. I go to him with confidence ; for he has arrayed me with the robe of his righteousness." — Soon aftei his, he gently expired ; and his countenance re- -ained the expression of joy.
4!)J7B'^
SECTION VI.
DR. DONNE. ^
John Donne, an excellent English poet, was born in the year 1573. He was educated in hi? father's house till the eleventh year of his ac"e, when he was sent to the university of Oxford , where it was observed of him, that " he was rather born wise, than raade 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 accept of a benefice ; but, at first, he prudently declined this offer for several reasons ; chiefly, " because some former irregu- larities 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 favourite, to enter into the clerical office : and after having maturely weighed the subject, and employed a considerable time in improving him- self by close study, he complied with the king's desire. He v;as ordained deacon and priest by the bishop of London; and soon after was ap pointed one of the king's chaplains. On the
DR. DONNE. 101
royal recommendation, he was presented with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, by the university of Cambridge.
Br. 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 four- teen different benefices, from persons of rank. He preferred, however, settling in London ; and was made preacher of Lincoln's Inn. About this time, his domestic happiness suffered a severe siiock, 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 gave occasion to a work entitled, " Devo- tions upon Emergent Occasions ;" in which the fervour of his soul is strongly expressed. He re- covered from this indisposition ; and lived in good ht.*alth, till he was seized with a fever in 1 630, after which he began to decline. Foresee- ing his end, he prepared for it with great resigna- tion. He was, however, much affected with the retrospect of life : and on his death-bed, upon ta- king a solemn leave of his friends,, he made this sirik'ng declaration to them : " I repent of all my life, except that part of it, which I spent in com- munion with God, and in doing good."
SECTION VII. PHILIP III. KING OF SPAIN.
Philip the Third was born in the year 1577, and succeeded to the crown of Spain in the 21st year of his age. Of an inactive disposition, and averse to the trouble of governing a great king dom, 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 perplexity and distress to himself.
When this king drew near the end of his days, he desired, as the last action of his life, to see, and to bless his children. He told the prince, his successor, he had sent for him, " that he might behold the vanity of crowns and tiaras, and learn to prepare for eternity." He kindly addressed all his children, gave them his blessing, and dismissed them with fervent prayers for their happiness, both here and hereafter.
During the progress of his disorder, he ap- peared to be greatly disturbed in mind. He made repeated confessions of his sins, and implorea Di- vine mercy. He said to those around him, that ne had often been guilty of dissimulation in matters
PHILIP III. KING OP SPAIN. 103
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 trem- bled, crying out, at different times : " Oh ! if it should please Heaven to prolong my life, how different from the past should be my future con- duct !" 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 expres- sions of his repentance and devotion, drew tears from the eyes of those who surrounded him. The priest who attended him, unwilling to bruise a broken reed, endeavoured to cheer and compose his troubled mind, by consolatory views of the Divine mercy, and the assurances which the Gos- pel affords, of assistance to the weak, and of par- don to the penitent. At length, the alternate tumult of hope and fear, which had so greatly agi- tated his mind, subsided into a gentle calm ; and he died peacefully, in the 43d year of his life, and the 23d of his reign.
SECTION VIII. CATHARINE BRETTERG.
Catharine Bretterg was born in Cheshire, about the year 1580, and was the daugliter 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 Avhich many greatly delight them- selves. 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 : but she was mercifully supported under this trial; and
CATHARINE BRETTERO. 105
the victory was, in due time, graciously given to licr.
Her dcpendance on the Fountain of Wisdom and Slreiiglh, for rehef 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 ! 0 blessed Saviour, perfect the Vv^ork, I humbly beseech thee, which thou hast begun in me."
At another time, after she had experienced deliverance from this conflict, she expressed her- self 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 compas- sion on me. And now, blessed Lord, thy com- forting presence is come ; yea, Lord, thou hast had respect to thy handmaid, and art come with fulness of joy and abundance of consolation."
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
106 CATHARINE BRETTERQ.
heaven but thee ? And I have none on earth be- sides thee. My flesh faileth, and my heart also ; but God is tlic strength of my heart, and my por- tion for ever. He that preserveth Jacob, and de- fendetli 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, sho yielded up her soul in peace to her Creator.
SECTION IX.
OXENSTIERN.
OxENSTiERN, chaiicellor of Sweden, was a man of great abilities, and uncorrupted integrity. On the accession of Christina to the crown of Swe- den, the regency, during her minority, devolved upon him and four others : but so great was their confidence in Oxenstiern, that he was invested with the chief management of affairs ; and he con- ducted himself with singular wisdom and upright- ness. In the great schemes which he formed for the interest of his country, he was very success- ful ; 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 VVhitelocke, ambassador from England to Queen Christina ; and in the conclusion of their dis- course, he made the following very interesting observations : — " I have seen much, and enjoyed much, of this world ; but I never knew how to live till now. I thank my good God, who has given
108 OXENSTIERK.
me time to know liim, and to know myself. All the comfort I have, and which is more than the wliole world can give, is, fcehng the good spirit of God in my heart, and reading in this good book, (holding up the Bible,) that came from it."
Tins 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 wisdom, truth, comfort, and pleasure, in retiring, and in turning your heart from the world, to the good Spirit of God, and in reading the Bible, than in all the courts, and favours of princes."
The preceding account is given by William Penn, who says he had it, more than once, from the ambassador himself. The sentiments expres- sed by Oxenstiern are particularly interesting, 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, and of the happiness which is to be derived from religion.
SECTION X. HUGO GROTIUS.
Hugo Grotius was born in Holland, in the year 1583. He possessed lire most jinp{)y dis^po- sition, a profound genius, a solid judgnieiil, and a wonderful mennory. These exlraordiiiaiy na- tural endowments had all the advanlaiics that education could give ihem ; and he was so hap})y a? to find, in his own father, a pious and an able inslructer, who formed his mind and his morals. Before he was fifteen, he maintained 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 rcpuhlir of letters were struck with astonishment.
He strenuously engaged in the controversies respecting religious opinions, which, at that lime, occupied the lea'-ned wci\ of the Uiiiled Stales : and the part which he took in those disputes, in- volved him in great trouble and pcrplcxiiy. He afterwards became the queen of Sweden's ainbas- sador at Paris. This dignity, however, was not agfceable to a man of his turn of mind. His
10
110 HUGO GROTIUS,
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 me ; 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 honoin:, for the plain integrity 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 neces- saries "
To one who admh'ed his great industry, he re- turned an answer, to this effect : " Ah ! I have consumed much of my life, in laboriously doing nothing." And to another who inquired 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 expressed his faith in Jesus
HUGO GROTIUS. Ill
Christ, and declared that his hope rested upon him. To one who mentioned to him the pubhcan spoken of in the gospel, he humbly replied, " T am that publican ;" and soon after expired.
Grotius, notwithstanding the embassies and other public business in which he was employed, 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 Annals of Holland." He ap- pears 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 to the service of truth and religion, they become acceptable oiTerings to our Divine Benefactor, and often eminently promote the good of mankind But when we misapply these qualifications, suffer them to nourish pride and vanity, or attribute to them an efficacy in producing virtue and happi- ness that does not necessarily belong to them , they occasion an unhappy waste of our time, and
112 HUGO GROTIUS.
lay the foundation for bitter regret in the winding 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, 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:" lemembering that this is "the one thinrr needful."
. Whilst the mind is occupied with the variety and intricacy of speculation and literary engage- ments, and tlie heart elated with the flattering distinctions which they produce, we may not suf ficiently perceive the importance of this Divnie injunction: but when the close of our day ap- proaches, and the retrospect of life is made ; when the ardour of pursuit has abated, and the rlel usions of vanity and passion are at an end ; we sliall form a true estimate 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 receive the truths of the gospel witli meekness and cordiality ; to be pure and Inunble in heart; to love our neighbours as our- selves, and God above all things ; and, by these
HUGO GROTIUS. 113
means, to secure an incorruptible and immortal 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 anti- cipate these reflections ; and so to temper and regulate all our studies, and all the engagements of this life, that they may coincide with and pro- mote the groat end of our being !
10*
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SECTION XI. JOHN SELDEN.
John Selden, a native of Sussex, was born in the year 1584. He was profoundly learned, and skilled in the Hebrew and oriental languages, 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 know- ledge : above all, he was a sincere and eminent Christian.
The earl of Clarendon, who was the intimate friend of Selden, speaks of him thus : " Mr Selden was a person, whom no character can flatter, or transmit in any expressions equal to his merit and virtue. He was of such stupen dous learning, in all kinds and in all languages, that a man would have thought he had been en- tirely conversant among books, and had never spent an hour but in reading or writing : yet his humanity, courtesy, and affability, were sucli, that he would have been thought to have been h^-'A in the best courts. His good nature, selves, ancnd delight in doing good, and in com-
he knew, exceeded that breeding.
JOHN SELDEN. 113
In his conversation, he was the most clear dis- course!, and had the best faculty in making hard things easy, and present to the understanding, of any man that hath been known."
This eminent scholar and Christian, when he was near the end of his days, declared, in a con- ference with Archbishop Usher, that, " though he had been very laborious in his literary inquiries, ana had possessed himself of a great number of valuable books and manuscripts, upon all ancient subjects ; yet he could rest the happiness of his soul on none of them, except the Holy Scrip- tures. He said that the following passage, in a very particular manner, affected his mind : " The grace of God, which bringeth salvation, hath ap- peared unto all men ; teaching us, that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world ; looking for that blessed hope and glorious appearing of the great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ ; who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto 'him- self a peculiar people, zealous of good works." This is, indeed, a most important and interesting declaration. It sets forth the universal love of God ; the various duties of men, with the means of performing them; the redemption from sin through Jesus Christ ; and a glorious reward to the faithful hereafter. >
SECTION XII. CARDINAL RICHELIEU.
Richelieu, an eminent cardinal and ininrster of stale in France, was born of a noble family at ihc casile of Richelieu, in the year 1585. Being a man of prodigious capacity, and of a restless and insatiable ambition, he formed vast designs, wJiiiCk made his life a series of agitations and per- plexities. He found himself frequently under the necessity of opposing the grandees of tlie king- dom, the royal family, the whole house of Austria, and even Louis XIII. himself. Amidst his great- est and most arduous concerns, lie did not neglect to cultivate literature, and to show himself a pa- tron of men of letters. He manifested a particular regai'd 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 ; but his consummate policy enabled him to triumph over all the machinations of his opponents.
Wlien this great statesman approached the con- clusion of his time, he became very serious ; and acknowledged to Peter du Moulin, the celebrated
4
CARDINAL RICHELIEU, 117
French protestant, that he had often been hurried into measures which his conscience disapproved. '* That he had been urged into many irregularities, by what is called, state policy ; that as he could not tell how to satisfy his conscience for these de- viations from rectitude, he had many temptations to disbelieve the existence of a God, a future state, and the immortality of the soul ; and, by these means, to quiet the upbraidings of his mind. But in vain. So stronfr was the idea of God in his 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 his own conscience ; that he could not avoid feeling the necessity of admitting a Supreme Being, and a future state : and he wished to live as one that must die ; and to die, as one that must hve for ever."
Tiie 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 car- dinal replied : " The soul is a serious thing : it must either be sad here for a moment, or be sad for ever."
He died in 1642, amidst storms and perils, be- fore he had completed his designs ; leaving behind him a name, splendid indeed, but, by no means, dear and venerable.
SECTION XIII. LORD HARRINGTON.
John, Lord Harrington, was the son of that Lord Harrington to whom King James the first committed the education of his eldest daughter the princess EUzabeth.
He possessed excellent natural endowments and a considerable stock of useful learning ; but 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 princi pie of real charity in his heart, by his love to all who were truly religious. And so great was his compassion for his fellow-creatures in necessity, that he gave the tenth part of his yearly income to charitable uses.
At the beginning of his last sickness, he strongly apprehended that he should not recover ; and therefore calmly prepared for death. He declared his faith in Christ, and his undoubted hope of salvation by him : and said, with much cheerful ness, " I fear not death, in what shape soever it may assail me."
LORD HARRINGTON. 119
Many excellent things were expressed by him, during his illness. He greatly desired to depart this lif3, that he might be at home with his Lord and Saviour. About two hours before his death, he declared, that " he still felt the comfort and joys of assured salvation, by Christ Jesus." And when the time of his departure w^as come, he said, " 0, that joy ! O, my God ! when shall I be with thee ?" And with the like words, expressive of a tender, heavenly frame of mind, he peacefully expired, in the twenty-third year of his age.
SECTION XIT.
SALMASIUS.
Salmasius, of an ancient and noble family m France, was born in llic year 1596. He was a man of very extraordinary abilities, and profouiid cruditiov\. 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 Laiin : he understood the Hebrew, Arabic, Persic, Egyptian, Chinese, &c., and he was well acquainted with alL the European languages.
His works are veiy numerous, and on various subjects. They gained him as much fame a3 strong powers and vast erudition can procm*e. His name was sounded throughout Europe ; and he had great offers from foreign princes, and uni- versities. The Venetians thought his residence among them wonld 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
8ALMASIITS. 121
means to detain him in France, even desiring him to make his own terms ; and Christina, queen of Sweden, showed him extraordinary marks of es- teem and regard.
When this celebrated man arrived at the even- ing of Hfe, and found leisure to reflect seriously on the great end of his being, he acknowledged tiiMl he had too much, and too earnestly, engaged ill literary pursuits ; and had greatly overlooked those objects in which true and solid happiness consists. " Oh !" said he, " I have lost an im- mense portion of time ; time, that most precious thing in the world ! Had I but one year more, it should be spent in studying David*s psalms, and Paul's epistles." *' Oh ! sirs," said he to ihose 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.' "
11
CHAPTER IV.
Cardinal Mazarine — Bulstrode 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 politics. It was through the interest of Cardi- nal Richelieu, that he was introduced into the 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 occa sioned a civil war that continued several years. Mazarine was, at last, forced to retire ; a price
CARDINAL MAZARINE. 123
was set on his head; and even his fine library- was sold. But this disgrace did not long con- tinue. 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 possessecl, in an eminent degree, the power of discovering the dispositions and views of men; and of assuming a character adapted to circumstances.
He was a man of great ambition, and pursued with ardour the chase of worldly honours. But, a short time before his death, he perceived the vanity of his pursuit, and lamented the misap- plication of his time and talents. He was greatly afiected with the prospect of 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 undone me. Were I to live again, I would be a capuchin, rather than a courtier."
SECTION II.
BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE.
HuLSTRODE WiiTTELocKE WRs clcsccndctl from a good family in Berkshire, and born in the year 1605. He possessed strong mental powers, which were highly improved by education, 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 satisfaction of his employers. Whilst lie was ambassador 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 ob servations, he expressed himself in the following manner: "I have ever thought there has been one true religion in the world : and that is the work of the Spirit of God in the hearts and souls of men. There have been, indeed, many dis- pensations of God, suited to his own wise ends, and adapted to the low and uncertain state of man in the world. But the old world had the Spirit
BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE. 125
of God, for it strove with them ; and the new world has had the Spirit of God, both Jew and Gentile ; and 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 tasle of Divine things ; and it is my grief that I did not ear- lier apply my soul to it. I can say, that, since my retirement from the greatness and hurries of the world, I have felt something 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 icart ; I mean, what that has wrought in me, and for me."
SECTION III. ANNA MARIA SCHURMAN.
Anna Maria Schurman, of a noble protestant 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 \vrote, but spoke them fluently, to the sur prise of the most learned men. She had also a competent knowledge of the liberal arts and sciences ; and was held in high reputation by several persons of the greatest learning in her time.
In the latter part of her life, the religious tem- per of her mind increasing, she set little value on all the honour she had acquired, by her extraor- dinary accomplishments ; and became zealously concerned to obtain the favour of God, as the richest treasure, and the highest of all enjoy- ments. After this change of views and senti- ments, she wrote an account of her hfe in Latin; in which she mentions some remarkable circum-
ANNA MAHIA SCHURMAN. 127
Stances concerning herself, emd 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 disorder, she ex- pressed 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 sorrow : the will of my God IS all to me ; I follow him. How good is it to be 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 continually impressed with a sentiment of this nature : ' A Christian must suffer.' This sentiment comforts me in my pains ; and supports me that I faint not. — 0 how good it is to remain in silence and patience before God ! My most beneficent Father has not dealt witn me, as with his servant Job, wliose friends were with him seven days in silence, and then, addressed him with bitter words. But how sweet and comfortable are the impressions which I feel !"
SECTION IV. SIR MATTHEW HALE-
Sir Matthew Hale, lord chief justice of England, was born in Gloucestershire, in the yeni 1609. Before he was six years old, he lost both his parents : but by the care of a judicious guard- ian, 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 sergeant Glanvill, he entered 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 fell into many levhies and extravagances. But this propensity and conduct were corrected by a cir- cumstance, that made a considerable impression on his mind, during the rest of his life. Being one day in company with other young, 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
SIR MATTHEW HALE. 129
retired to another room; and, shutting the door, fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly to God, that his friend might be restored to hfe, 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 disposi- tion : he forsook all dissipated company, and was carefid to divide his time between the duties of religion, and the studies of his profession. He became remarkable for a grave and exemplary 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, and how solicitous he was to make the best use of his time.
MORNING.
1. To lift np the heart to God in lliankfulness for renewing my life.
2. To renew my covenant with God in Cln-iit, First, by renewed acts of faith receiving Ciirist,
130 SIR MATTHEW HALE.
and rejoicing in the height of that relation : sec- ondly, by resolving to be one of his people, and •rloing him allegiance.
'^. 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, cheerfulness. 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.
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
SIR MATTHEW HALE. 131
COMPANY.
Bo good to them. Use God's name reverently. Beware of leaving an ill impression, or ill example. Receive good from them, if they are more know- ing.
EVENING.
Cast up the accounts of the day. If there was aught amiss, beg pardon ; resolve to be more vigi- lant. If thou hast done well, bless the mercy and grace of God, which have supported thee.
Thus did this excellent man occupy himself in the service of God, at the same time that he was making great progress in the study of the sciences, and particularly in that of the law, in which he became a greater proficient than any of his con- temporaries.
In the duties of his office as a judge, he cOn ducted himself with the greatest integrity. The motives which influenced him to the faithful dis- charge 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 had in continual remembrance."
132 SIR MATTHEW HALE,
Among a numerous list of lliese, are the follow | ing. " That, in the administration of justice, I am intrusted for God, the king, and the country : and therefore that it be done uprightly, dchbe- rately, 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 tliem, however provoked.— -That I be not biased with compassion to the poor, or favour to the ricli, ir point of justice. — That popular or court applause or dislike, have no influence in any thing 1 do in the distribution of justice. That I be not solicil- ous about what men think or say, so long as 1 keep myself exactly according to the rules of justice."
The writings of Sir Matthew Hale, on religious 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 emotions 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 Jives.
" True religion," says he, " teaches tlie soul a high veneration for Almighty God; a sincere
SIR MATTHEW HALE. 133
and upright walking, as in the presence of the in visible, all seeing God. It makes a man truly love, honour, and obey him, and therefore 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 entirely depend on him, seek him for guidance, direction, and pro- tection, 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 unbecoming 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 an humble state of mind before God and men. It regulates the passions, and brings them into due moderation. It gives a man a right estimate of this present world, and sets his heart and hopes above it ; so that he never joves it more than it deserves. It makes the wealth, and the glory of this world, hi£rh places, and great preferments, 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 performs all his duties to God with sincerity and constancy : and, whilst he lives on earth, his QpjXYxersation, his
12
134 KIR MATTHEW HALE.
hope, his treasures, are in heaven ; and he endear OUTS to walk suitably to such a hope."
His sentiments, respecting the inward direction and assistance of the Spirit of God to the soul, and his Holy Presence there, are deeply interesting.
" They who truly fear God, have a secret guidance from a higher wisdom than what is barely human, namely, the Spirit of truth and wisdom ; which does really, though secretly, pre- vent and direct them. Any man that sincerely 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 direction of his father • and though the voice is not audible, 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, in the great and momentous concerns 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 external actions, occur- rences, and incidents, of my whole life, I have never been disappointed of the best direction, when I have, in humility, and a sense af my own deficiency, sincerely implored it.
SIR MATTHEW HALE. 135
" God sees the most secret chambers of our hearts. All the guests that are there, even our most intimate thoughts and purposes, and much more our most retired actions, are as legible to him, as if they were graved in brass.
"Are our hearts solicited by any object; by ourselves or by the persuasions of others, or by the suggestions of Satan; to impure speculations or sinful resolutions, to proud or arrogant con- ceptions of ourselves, to revengeful, uncharitable, or forbidden desires, to vain and unprofitable imaginations ; let us reflect that these thoughts (which even natural modesty or prudence, would shame us to express before mortal man) are all naked and manifest before the great and holy God. And dare we entertain such guests wdiere our Creator is present ? in that place in which the Lord of Heaven is pleased, most justly and most mercifully to claim as his own ? Consider — it is our Judge that sees us : it is the great Creator, before whom the angels of heaven veil their faces, not being able to behold his glory : and, which is more than all this to an ingenuous nature, it is He to whom we owe ourselves and all that we are, lie to whom we have given up our names, and who has purchased our souls from destruction by the blood of his Son.
" Again : Is the God of heaven an eyewitness of
136 SIR MATTHEW HALE.
our conduct, when either by ourselves, or by others, we are soUcited to evil ?-let us take cour age to resist this temptation, because our Creator sees us ; because our Lord stands by, to observe, and to reward us, in our opposition. To be able to hear, in our own consciences, the approving voice of the Lord of heaven beholding us, and saying •
* Well done, good and faithful servant,' v/ould bo enough to outweigh all our obedience, though it were possible to separate it from what follows : —
* Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'
5 3>
The following reflections on the vicissitudes of human affairs, and on the benefits to be derived from duly coi.sidering them, are highly important and instructive : —
" Li the course of my life, I have been in as many stations and places as most men. I have experienced almost continual motion ; and al- though, 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 pubhc employments that, without my seeking, 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. Wlien I had designed for myself a settled mansion in one place, and had fitted it to my convenience
SIR MATTHEW HALE. 137
and repose, I have been presently constrained, by my necessary employments, to leave it, and repair to another : and when again I thought to find repose there, and had suited it to my con- venience, 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 instability.
" This unsettledness of station, though trouble- some, has given me a good and practical moral ; namely, that I must not expect my rest in this lower world ; but must consider it as the place of my journey and pilgrimage, and look further for true repose and 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 exhibited as patterns to the rest of mankind, I have no reason to com- plain of it, as a difficulty 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 myself too much upon this "[vorld below.
12*
138 BIR MATTHEW HALE.
" But the truth is, did we consider this hfe 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 labo- ratory to fit and prepare the souls of the cliildren of men, for a better and more abiding state ; a school, to exercise and train us up in habits of patience and obedience, till we are fitted for an other 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 continua troubles, sicknesses, and calamities, that attena them ; and the instances of mortality of all ages, sexes, and conditions of mankind, are sufficient to convince reasonable men, who have the seri- ousness 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 excellence of the soul and mind of man ; the great advances and improvements his nature is capable of; the admirable means which the mer- ciful and wise God has afforded mankind, by his works of nature and providence, by his word and instructions, to qualify them for a nobler life than this world can yield; we shall readily confess,
£m MATTHEW HALE. 139
»
that there is another state, another city to come, v/hich it becomes every good, and wise, and con siderate man, to look after and fit himself for. And yet, if we regard the generality" of mankind with due consideratioh, 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 pre- ferments and pleasures of life, their great, if not their only business and happiness ; and, w^hich is yet a higher degree of phrensy, they esteem this the only wisdom ; and think that the careful pro* vision 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 everlasting rest, are the truly wise men ; and shall be acknowledged to be so, by those who now despise them. * We fools accounted his life mad- ness, and his end to be without honour. How is he numbered among the children of God, and hia lot is among the saints I' "
Tliis eminent and virtuous man possessed unin- terrupted 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 im- paired his strength : and he found himself so unfit to discharge the duty of justice of the kings
240 SIR MATTHEW HALE.
bench, that he was obliged to resign the office " He continued, however," says Bishop Burnet, " to retire frequently for his devotions and studies. As long as he could go himself, he went regularly to his retirement; and when his infirmities in creased 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 approaching : for besides his being weary of the world, and his long- ings for the blessedness of another state, his pains increased so much, that no patience inferior to his could have borne them, without great uneasiness of mind. Yet he expressea to the last, such sub- mission to the will of God, and so equal a temper, that the powerful effects of Christianity were evi- dent, in the support which he derived from it, un^ der 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, du ring his last sickness. When his voice was so sunk that he could not be heard, his friends perceived^ by the almost constant lifting up of his eyes and hands, that he was still aspiring towards that bless ed state, of which he was now to be speedily pos- sessed. 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 '^
SECTION V. DU RENTI.
Du Renti was a young nobleman of France, iftot more distinguished by his high birth, than b}' the excellent talents and quahfications of his mind. This accom-phshed youth, influenced 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 relinquish all his honours, and to with- draw from scenes, which he feared would ensnare and corrupt his heart.
The following extracts from his views and sen- timents, respecting these subjects, 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 Divide Sisiht.
" When I gave up my liberty to God, I perceiv- ed to what a state of deep humiliation the soul must be brought, to render it capable of union with him. The splendour and vain enjoyments of this transitory scene, are great encumbrances to me, in my endeavours to obtain the favour of God ; of which, therefore, his pleasure is that I
142 DTJ RENTI.
should be stripped, in order to attain that state of humility 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 dying 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 com- paratively 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 find ourselves, in being willing to resign up every thing ; and in saying. My God, and my All /"
How conformable are these sentiments to tho Divine injunctions, " Love not the world, not the things that are in the world." — " But be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind." Il is, indeed, a holy and happy state, to be living above the world, and pressing after perfection, at the same time that w^e 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 retirem.ent, 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 u versal charity.
SECTION TI. -'■ • '"•.:''•
PRINCESS ELIZABETH.
Princess Elizabeth, of the Rhine, was boni in the year 1620. She was the eldest daughter of Frederic V., elector palatine and king of Bohemia, by Elizabeth, daughter of James the First, king of England. This excellent princess posse'ssed only a small territory; but she governed it with great judgment, and attention 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 moderation, were very conspicuous. She frequently remitted forfeitures, in cases w^here the parties were poor, or in any respect worthy of favour. It was remarkable that she often intro- duced religious considerations, as motives to per- suade the contending parties to harmony and peace. She was greatly beloved and respected by her subjects ; and also by many persons of "learning and virtue not resident in her dominions : for she patronized men of this character, whatever might be their country, or their religious profes- sion.
In the year 1 677, the celebrated William Penn paid her a visit ; and was treated by her with great respect. The following account of her ia taken from his works : —
144 PRINCESS ELIZABETH.
" The meekness and humility of the pnncess appeared to me extraordinary: she did not con sider the quahty, but the merit of the people she entertained. Did she hear of a retired man, seeking after the knowledge of a better world, slie 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 benevolerxe, sealed and directed to the several poor subjects of her bounty, whose distance prevented them from being personally known to her. Thus, though she kept no sumptuous table in her own court, she spread the tables of the poor in their solitary cells ; breaking bread to virtuous pilgrims, accord- ing to their want and her ability.
" She was abstemious in her living ; and in ap* parel void of all vain ornaments. I must needs say, that her mind had a noble prospect : her eye was to a better and more lasting 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 her religion's sake, re- marked to her, that ' 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
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 145
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.'
"After a religious meeting which we had in her chamber, she was much affected, and said : * It is a hard thing to be faithful to what one knows. O, the way is straight ! 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 de- sired 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 condition subjects me to divers tempt- ations, yet my soul has strong desires after the best things.'
" She lived till the age of sixty years ; and then departed at her house in Herwerden, in the year 1680, as much lamented, as she had been be- loved by her people. To her real worth I do, with a religious gratitude, dedicate this memorial."
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 con- tinue in the place, notwithstanding 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 medi- cines, his advice, and his prayers. During 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 we doubt not it will be acceptable to the reader : —
" 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 v/ith a crown of righteousness, having made a happy end.
WILLIAM MOMPESSON. 147
"Indeed, had she loved herself as well as me, she had fled from the pit of destruction with her sweet babes, and might have prolonged her days : but she was resolved to die a martyr to my inter- est. 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 be- lieve a dying man. I have as much love as hon- our for you, and I will bend my feeble knees to the God of heaven, that you, my dear lady, and your children, and their children, may be blessed with external and eternal happiness ; and that the same blessing may fall upon Lady Sunderland and her relations.
" Dear sir, let your dying chaplain recommend this truth to you and your family, that no happi- ness 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 com- fort to ray distressed orphans. I am not desirous
143 WILLIAM MOMPESSOK.
that lliey may- be great, but good ; that they may be brought up in the fear and admonition of the Lord.
" Sir, I thank God I am contented to shake hands with all the world ; and have many comfort- able 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 soul, that it were not so much abused and contemned.
*' I desire, sir, that you will be pleased to make choice of an 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. With tears I beg, that when you are praying for fatherless in- fants, you would remember my two pretty babes.
" 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 Mompessow. *'Eyam, Sept, 1, 1666."
SECTION VIII. ADMIRAL PEKN.
William Penn, afterwards Sir William Penn, 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 1655 ; 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 withdrew to Wan- stead in Essex, where he died in 1670.
A short time before his death, looking over the busy scenes in which he had been engaged, he be- came solemnly impressed with the view ; and filled with regret for his want of sufficient attention to the mercies he had received. The following ex- cellent advice which, at that time, he gave to one of his sons, strongly expresses the religious state of his mind
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150 ADMIRAL PENN,
" Son William, I am weary of the world. I V70uld not live over my days again, if I could com- mand them with a wish ; for the snares of life are greater than the fears of death. This troubles me, that I have offended a gracious God, who has fol lowed 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 ; 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 season- ably : for these give security and despatch. Last- ly, be not troubled at disappointments : 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 ex- ceed instruction for another time. These rules will carry you with firmness and comfort through this inconstant world."
CHAPTER V.
i ^cal — Robert Boyle — John Locke — John Janeway — Earl of Marlborough,
SECTION !. PASCAL.
??^AisE Pascal was born at Clermont in France, m \hc year 1623. Nature endowed him with ex- traofc'inary powers of mind, which were highly cuUwated. He was an eminent philosopher, a profound reasoner, and a sublime and elegant writer. We raise his character still higher, when we say, he was a man of most exemplary piety and virtue. The celebrated Bayle, speaking of this distinguished person, sa3''s : " a hundred vol umes of religious discourses, are not of so much avail to confound the impious, as a simple account of the life of Pascal. His humility and his devo- 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.
152 PASCAL.
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 verjr 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 reflec- tion, that a man of this turn, with a mind so com- prehensive and sagacious, entertained the most exalted sentiments of the Christian religion ; and never had the least doubt of its Divine authority. This information we have from his biographer, who knew him well, and who says, " that, by the instructions and example of his father, great rev- erence for religion was early impressed upon his mind, and continued with him through 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 philosopliical 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 His work, entitled, "Thoughts upon Religion and other Subjects," has been much read an^
PASCAL. 153
admired. He employed a great part of his time in prayer, and in reading the Holy Scrip- tures ; and he found the greatest comfort and delight, in these devout exercises. He used to say, " that the Sacred Scriptures are not so much adapted lo 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 religious sub- jects. His conversation abundantly answered their expectations : but he felt a fear to possess his mind, lest, on such occasions, 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 :
" I respect poverty, because Jesus Christ re- spected it : I respect riches, because they furnish ihe 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 tenderaess towards those with whom God has caused me to be intimately
164 PASCAL.
connected. Whether I am alone, or in company, I consider myself as in the sight of God, who will judge m,y actions, and to whom I consecrate them all. — These are my sentiments : and 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, ambition, and miser}'', to which I 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 suf- ferings 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 illness, his deportment was truly edifying ; and his expressions of charity and pious resignation, though deeply affecting, were highly consolatory to his friends. He said to his sister who attended him : " How has it happened that I have never done any thing foi the poor, though I have always had a great love for them?" She observed to him that he had not possessed property sufHcient to afford them much assistance. "Then," said he, "I ought t(5 have
PASCAL. 155
given them my time and labour. In this respect 1 am to blame : and if my physicians speak truly, and God should permit me to recover, I am re- solved that the service of the poor shall be the sole employment of my remaining da3^s."
To some of his friends, who expressed the con- cern they felt on account of his great and con- tinued afflictions, he said : " I know the dangers of health, and the advantages of sickness. — When we are ill, we are exempt from many of the passions which disturb us in health ; we ara without ambition, without avarice ; we are in continual expectation of death. We have no- thing to do, but to submit humbly and peace- fully."
The humility and simplicity of heart, for which he was always remarkable, seemed to in- crease as he approached his end. A person who frequently visited him in his last sickness, said of him : " He is a child : he is humble ; he sub- mits like a little child." — One of his particular friends, who had spent an hour with him, and had been much edified by his meek and pious example, thus expressed himself to his sister : " You m.a}'', indeed, be comforted. If God should call him hence, you have abundant cause to praise that gracious Being for the favours which he has con- ferred upon him I always very much admired
156 PASCAL.
his great qualities : but I never before observed that extraordinary simpHcity 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 forsake me !" and he died full of peace and hope.
With every deduction that can be made, for a few errors arising from peculiar circumstances, 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 pietv.
SECTION II. ROBERT BOYLE.
The honourable Robert Boyle, an eminent philosopher, and a truly good man, was the son of Richard, earl of Cork, and was born at Lis- more, in Ireland, in the year 1627. At Eton school, where he was educated, he soon discovered a force of understanding, which promised great things : and a disposition to improve it to the utmost. During his education, and before he was ten years old, he was much afflicted willi an ague, which considerably depressed 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.
He was a man of great learning ; and his stock of knowledge was inimense. The celebrated Dr, Boerhaave has passed the following eulogium upon himi : " Boyle was the ornament of his age
14
I5S R03EIIT BOYLE.
and country. Which of his writings shall I com mend ? 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 vvtilh particular kindness and respect by King Charles the Second, as well as by the two great ministers, Southampton and Cla- rendon. By the latter, he was solicited to enter into orders : for his distnlguished learning, and unblemished reputation, induced Lord Clarendon to think, that so veiy respectable a personage would do great honour to the clergy. Boyle considered the proposal with due attention. Hs reflected, that, in his present situation of life, whatever he wrote, with respect to religion, would have greater weight, as coming from a layman - for he well knew, that the irreligious 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 poini of fortune and character, he needed no accessions : and, indeed, his desire for these was always very limited. But Bishop Burnet, 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
ROBERT BOYLE. 159
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 wlio, during an intimacy of twenty- nine years, had spent many happy hours in conversation with him, gives a full account of his genuine piety and virtue, and of his zeal for the Christian rehgion. "This zeal," he says, "was unmixed with narrow notions, or a bio-oted heat in favour of a particular sect : it was that spirit which is the ornament of a true Christian." Bur- net mentions, as a proof of this, his noble founda tion 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 pub- lished in consequence of that laudable and pious desiirn.
'G
He was at the charge of the translation and i^npression of the New Testament, into the Ma- Inyan tongue : and he had it dispersed in the East Indies. He gave a great reward to the person v/biO translated into Arabic, Grotius's incom- parable book, on the truth of the Christian reli- gion ; and had. a whole edition printed at his own expense, which he took care to have spread in all
160 ROBERT BOYLE.
the countries where that language was understood. By munificent donations, and by his patronage, he also very materially promoted the plans of other persons, for propagating the Christian re- ligion, in remote parts of the world. In other respects, his charities were so extensive, thai they amounted to more than a thousand pounds sterling every year.
The great object of his philosophical pursuits, was, to promote the cause of religion, and to dis- countenance atheism and infidelity. His intimate friend. Bishop Burnet, makes the following ob- servations 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 px<\y that they, and all other searchers into physical truths, may cordially refer their attainments, to the glory of the great Author of nature, and to the comfort of man kind.' "
ROBERT BOYLE. 161
On another occasion, the same person speaks of him thus : " He had the most profound vene- ration 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, with- out 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 Bm"net, on reviewing it, in a m.oment of pious exultation, thus expressed himself : " I might challenge the whole tribe of libertines, to come and view the usefulness, as well as the excel- lence of the Christian religion, in a life that was entirely dedicated to it."
14*
SECTION III.
JOHN LOCKE.
John Locke, a very celebrated philosoplier, 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 several 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 plantations, in which station he very honourably distinguished himself. Notwithstand- ing his public employments, he tound leisure to v/rite much for the benefit of mankind. His " Es- say on Human Understanding,*' his "Discourses on Government," and his "Letters on Toleration," are justly held in high estimation.
This enlightened man and profound reasoner, was most firmly attached to the Christian religion. His zeal to promote it appeared, first, in his middle age, by publishing a discourse to demon- strate the reasonableness of believing Jesus to be the promised Messiah ; and, afterwards, in
162
JOHN LOCKE. 2:63
the latter part of his life, by a very judicious Commentary on several of the Epistles of the Apostle Paul. The sacred Scriptures are every where mentioned by him with the greatest rever- ence ; and he exhorts Christians, " to betake them- selves in earnest to the study of the way to salvation, in those holy v/ritings, 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 question, " 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 con- tained the words of eternal life. It has God for its author.; salvation for its end; and truth with- out any mixture of error, for its matter." This advice was conformable to his own practice. — "For fourteen or fifteen years, he applied him- self, 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 ,^very day made discoveries in it, that gave him fresh cause of admiration."
164 JOHN LOCKE.
The consolation which he derived from Divine levelation^ 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.
After he had diligently employed a great pnxt of his life in a variety of occupations, he chose a pleasing retirement for the remainder 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 estimate of its enjoyments \ and to dedi- cate himself more fully to thf cause of piety and virtue.
The summer before his death, he began to be ver}^ sensible of his approaching dissolution. He often spoke of it, and always with great compo- sure. A short time before his decease, he declared to a friend, that " he was in the sentiments of per- fect charity towards all men; and of a sincere union with the church of Christ, under whatever name distinguished."
■
The day before his death, Lady Masham being alone with him, and sitting by his bedside, he exhorted her to regard this world only as a stato of preparation for a better; adding, that "he
JOHN LOCKE. 165
had lived long enough, and thanked God for hav- ing passed his days so comfortably ; but that this Ufe appeared to him mere vanity." Plis meaning, in this last expression, doubtless was, that the duration and enjoyment of this life, are as no- thing, compared with the endless ages, and the euprenie 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 re- membered by them at evening prayers. Being told ihat, if he chose it, the whole family should be with him in his chamber, 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 particular, return- ed God thanks, for having blessed him with the knowledge of tlie Divine Saviour.
About two months before his death, he wrote a letter to his friend, Anthony Collins, and left this direction upon it : " To be delivered to him after my decease." It concludes with the follow- ing remarkable words • —
" May you live long and happy, in the enjoy- ment of health, freedom, content, and all those blessings which Providence has bestowed on you.
166 JOHN LOCKE.
and to which your virtue entitles 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 con sciousness of doing well, and in the hopes of an- other life. This is what I can say upon experi- ence ; and what you will find to be true, when you come to make up the account. Adieu."
The following extract from a letter written by Lady Masham, deserves a place among the testimo- nies respecting this distinguished and excellent man:
" You will not, perhaps, dislike to know, that the last scene of Mr. Locke's life, was not less admirable than any thing else concerning 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 peo- ple, 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 dv.ath was, like his hfe, truly pious : yet natural, easy, and unaffected. Time, I think, can never produce a more eminent example of reason and religion thao he was, both living and dying.
SECTION IV. JOHN JANEWAY.
John Jane way was born in Hertfordshire, in 'the year 1633. He was remarkable for his pi^tv 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 seven- teen, he was chosen to King's College in Cam- bridge ; and when he was about eighteen, it pleased Divine Goodness to open his understand- ing, and discover to him, that the knowledge of his Creator, and a consciousness of an interest in his love, through Jesus Christ, was infinitely superior to every attainment and possession of this world. At this time, he became sensible that as- tronomy surveys but a molehill, in comparison of the great objects which the religion of Jesus contemplates. 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 knowledge, yet he now " counted every thing but as dross and dung, in comparison of the knowledge of Christ, and him crucified." From this period of his life to the conclusion of it, he continued to rise above
167
168 JOHN JANEWAT.
the world, and to labour for purity of heart, and acceptance in the Divine Sight.
As his ov/n comforts came from the source of n\l consolation, so he was desirous of leading others 10 partake of that fountain, and to depend upon it loi SL^port. "We poor foolish creatures," said he, on a particular occasion, " scarcely know what is good for ourselves : but it is no small encourage- ment to the people of God, that wisdom itself is iheir guard ; and that one who loves them better than they love themselves, cares for them."
When he ^^W 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 tl/- , enjoyment of Jesus Christ ? Can I desire a..y thing below comparable to that blessed vision! O that crown ! that rest which remains for the pea pie of God ! and, blessed be God, I can say, 1 kncv; it is mine."
It was his custom to set apart an hour eYery day, for secret retirement and solemn meditation. On one of these occasions, a friend of his, un- known to him, placed himself in a situation,. v>^here he observed all that passed ; and his re- marks on the scene before him, are worthy of
JOHN JANEWAY. 169
insertion. "What a spectacle did I behold! Surely, a man walking with God, conversing in- timately with him, and maintaining a holy free- dom with the great Jehovah. Methought I saw a spiritual merchant in a heavenly exchange, pursuing a rich trade for the treasures of the other world. 0 what an animating sight it was ! me- ihinks I see him still. How lovely was his coun- tenance ! His looks, and smiles, and every motion, «poke him to be upon the confines of glory."
He was full of love and compassion to the souls of men ; and often gi'eatly lamented the barren- ness of Christians, in their converse with each other. " 0," said he, on a particular occasion, " 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 w^hile ? Where is out sense of the preciousness of time ? of the great- ness of our account ? Should we talk thus, if we believed we should hear of it again at the da}'" of judgment? Does not this speak aloud that cur 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 excellence of Christ, and of the glory of the invisi^ ble world, he replied : " Ah ! I feel somiCtliingof it. 5Iy heart is as full as it can hold in ihis lower state."
15
170 JOHN JANEWAY.
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 this love to me, Lord ? why to me ? — Praise is now my work, and I shall be engaged in that sweet employment for ever. O, help me to praise him ! I have nothing else to do. 1 have done with prayer ; I have al- most 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, singing the song of Moses, and the song of the Lamb. I shall pre- sently stand upon Mount Sion, with an innu merable 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 : * Hallelujali ! salvation, glory, 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.
SECTION V. EARL OF MARLBOROUGH.
James, earl of Marlborough, was killed in a battle at sea, on the coast of Holland, in the year 1665. Not long before his death, he had a presentiment of it ; and wrote to his friend. Sir Hugh Pollard, a letter, of which the following 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 m 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 wha.t concerns myself, and an earnest desire to do you more good after my death, than my example, (God of his mercy 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, dressed fantastical^, and to purposes bad enough, w^hich yet, by such evil dealing, loseth not its being. The great, good God hath
171
172 EARL OF MARLBOROUGH.
not left it without a witness, more or less, soo/ieror later, in every man's bosom, to direct us in the pursuit of it ; and for avoiding those inextricable disquisitions and entanglements, our own frail reason would perplex us with, God, in liis inli- nite 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 direct us concerning our future being. I 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 de- ceitful vanity of the world, I 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, manl}^ 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 ; and his dee^ regret for having, at any period, treated them
EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 173
with indifference. When our pursuits in hfe, 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 perverted, and that the way is prepared for great depravity of heart. AVhatever, therefore, tends to lessen our esteem for those venerable and liighly 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 soli- citude.
" The Scriptures," says Bishop Home, " are wonderful, with respect to the matter which they contain, the manner in which they are written, and the effects w^hich they produce. They con- tain the sublimest truths, many of which are veiled under external ceremonies and figurative desf /iptions. When they are properly opened and enforced, they terrify and humble, they con- vert and transform, they console and strengthen. Who but must deligl '^ study, and to observe, these testimonies of v.id will and the wisdom, the love and the power of God most high ! While we have these holy writings, let us not waste our time, misemploy our thoughts, and prostitute our admiration, by doating on human follies, and won- dering at human trifles."
15*
CHAPTER VL
^Ay Rachel Russel — Jaue Ratcliffe — Sir Isaac Newton — Bishop Burnet — John, Earl of Rochester.
SECTION. I.
LADY llACPIEL RUSSEL.
Lady Rachel Russel, daughter of the earl of Southampton, was born about the yesLV 1636. She appears to have possessed a truly noble mind, a solid understanding, an amiable and a benevo- lent temper. Her pious resignation, and reli- gious deportment, under the pressure of very deep distress, afford a highly instructive example, and an eminent instance of the Pov^^er of Religion to sustain the mind, in the greatest storms *and dangers, when the waves of affliction threaten to overwhelm it.
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
174
LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 175
ot his severe sentence, with Christian and invin- cible fortitude. During the period of her illus- trious 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 attorne}^- general told him, "He might employ the hand of one of his servants in waiting, to take notes of the evidence for his use," Lord Russel answered, " that he asked none, but that of the lady who sat by him." The spectators, at these w^ords, turned their eyes, and beheld the daughter of the virtu- ous 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.
When the lim.e 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 possibly 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
176 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL.
gone : " The bitterness of death is now past :" 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 mag- nanimity 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 providence 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 behaviour in his extrem ity, exceeded all."
After the death of her lord upon the scaffold, this excellent woman, encompassed with the darkest clouds of affliction, seemed to be absorbed in a religious concern, to behave properly 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 owuj so dear to herself.
The following short extracts from a few of hej letters, evince the humble and pious frame ol her mind ; the great benefits she derived from hei afflictions ; and the comfortable hope she enter tained of her future Test and felicity : —
LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 17?
• " 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 loss Who but must shrink at such a blow, till, bv tlie 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 believe, I could not be dejected : for I will not injure m3>- sclf to say, I offer my mind any inferior conso- lation 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 inter- ests ; to bear with patience and courage, my emi- nent misfortunes, and ever hereafter to be above the smiles and frowns of it : and, having finished the remnant of the w^ork 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 ex- pect, pass as perhaps I would choose. — Sense has loncj enoufrh been satisfied : indeed so lono;, that I know not how to live by faith ; yet the pleasant
178 LADY RACHEL RtJSSEL.
Stream, that fed it near fourteen years together, being gone, I have no sort of refreshment, but when I can repair to that Hving Fountain, whence all flows ; while I look not at the things which are seen, but at those which are not seen, expecting that day whicli will settle and compose all my tumultuous thoughts, in perpetual peace and quiet."
" The consideration of the other world
is not only very great, but in my small judg- ment, tlie only support under the greatest of afflictions that can befall us here. The enliven- ing heat of those glories, is sufficient to animate and refresh us, in our dark passage through this world : and notwithstandincr I am below the meanest of God's servants, and have not, in the least degree, lived answerably to those opportu- nities 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 suffer us to be cast down, will not cast us off*, if we commit our cause to him. — I strive to reflect how large my portion of good things has 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 to fit it for the converse of angels, and the spirits of just men made per- fect; among whom, my hope is, my loved lord
LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 179
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 better 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 perfections of God ; not starting at his darkest providences, but re- membering continually, that either his glory, justice, or power, is advanced by every one of them, and that mercy is over all his works ; as we shall one day, with ravishing delight, behold. In the meantime, I endeavour 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 unbehef.' "
-"It is the grace of God which disposes
me to ask for, and thirst after, such comforts as the world cannot give. What comforts 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 joyful day, after some mourn ful ones ; and though I walk sadly through the valley of death, I 'vill fear no evil, humbling
180 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL.
myself under the mighty hand of God, who wil save in the day of trouble. He knows my sor rows, and the weakness 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 comfort, and a greater we cannot have ; yet the degree is raised, v»^hen we consider that Vv^e shall not only rest, but live in regions of un- speakable bliss. This should lead us sweetly through the dark passage of the world ; and suf- fer us to start at nothing we either meet with, or our fears suggest may happen to us."
To Lady Essex, she wTote as folio w^s : — " I be- seech God one day to speak peace to our af- flicted minds, and not to suffer us to be disap- pointed 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 bettei for our afflictions ; which is often the case with those who suffer wrongfully. We may reason- ably 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
LADT RACHEL RTJSSEL. 181
aealh we are walkincr throufrh ? The roiifrher onr
€D CD O
path is, ihe more dehghtful and ravishing will be ihe great change."
Sr.e survived Lord Riissel above forty years; and coiiliiiued his xvidov/ to the end of her life. She died in the year 1723, in the 87th year of her age. Her continued hope and trust in iiiM, who had been the staff of her life, and her sup- port in affliction, is evidenced by the following declaration, made not lonu; before the end of lier da3^s : " 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 re- joice in him as my portion for ever. He has provided a remedy for all oia' griefs, by his sure promises of another life,' where there is no death, nor any pain nor trouble, but fulness of joy, in ihe presence of Him who marde us, and who wil* love us for ever,"
16
SECTION II. JANE RATCLIFFE.
Jane Ratcliffe was born about the year 1 600, Her extraordinary faith and piety render her a suitable subject for these memoirs.
In early life, she indulged herself in many oi 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 circMmspect life, and come to the closing sceiie of it; when she appeared to be much raised above the love of hfe, 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 re- leased from the sorrows and dangers of mortality, there can be no doubt that it was limited by a humble submission, and pious resignation, to the will 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 fellow- ship of angels and saints, who would be as glad to see me with them, as I should be to see them
18*
JANE RATCLIFFE. 183
about me : and who would entertain me with un- wearied delight.
" I desire to die — because, while I live, I shall want the perfection of my nature, and be as an estranged and banisiied 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 hid loving-kindness is better than life, and he is abundant in mercy to me ; and the fear of dis- pleasing 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 m.yself 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 wo- ful would my life be to me, if I should give oc- casion to the world to triumph and blaspheme ! There are in my nature so many defects, errors, and transgressions, that I may say with David, * Innumerable 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.
184 JANE RATCLIFFE.
. " I desire to die — because nothing in this wortd can give me sohd and durable contentment.
" 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 tlicir God, if they be his : and if they be not, Avhat 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 sepa- ration of the soul from the body : and that is but the shadow of the body of death. Whereas, the separation of the soul from God by sin, and of soul and body for sin, is death indeed.
"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 miglity through God, and I am assured of victory.
"I do not fear death for the pain of it; for I am persuaded I have endured as great pain in life, as 1 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, will not neglect me in death;
JANE RATCLIPFE. 185
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 princi- pal mercies and blessings she had received from God : —
*' How shall I praise God for my conversion ? tor 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 ? for 2:ivinfT me some strencrth a";ainst mv sins ? for preserving me from gross evils, both before and after my calling ?"
In her last sickness, which was of long continu- ance, she was deeply sensible of the dangers and miseries that attend our progi-ess through life ; and often implored God to remove her into a better world, saying, in the v/ords of David: * Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation ! Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me ! O Lord, make naste 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. — She died in the year 1638.
16*
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 descended from an ancient family in Lincolnshire, where he was born, in the year 1642. 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 unworthy of taking up his time. He 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 reflec- tion, that has astonished the most learned men. He was highly esteemed by the university of Cambridge ; and was twice chosen to 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 philosophi- cal inquiries, used frequently to propose questions to him. This princess had a great regard for him ; and often declared that she thought herself happy lo live at the same time as he did, and to have the pleasure and advantage of his conversation.
186 ^
eiR ISAJLC NEWTON. 187
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, ivhich genius and learning often draw upon those who are eminent for them. We find him reflect- ing on the controversy 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."
The amiable quality of modesty stands very con- spicuous m 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 sus- pect him of vanity. He was candid and affable ; and he did not assume any airs of superiority over those with whom he associated. 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. He judged of men by their conduct : and the true schismatics, 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 per-
188 SIR ISAAC NEWTOBT
suaded of the truth of Reveiation : ana amiasl the great variety of books, which he had con- stantly before him, that which he loved the best and studied with the greatest application, was the Bible. He was, indeed, a truly pious man : and his discoveries concerning the frame and system of 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 remarkable prophecy of DanieFs weeks, was an express 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 infor- mation," says he, "whether public or private, I could ever obtain, his firm faith in the Divine Re- velation, discovered itself in the most genuine fruits of substantial virtue and piety ; and conse- quently gives us the justest reason to conclude, that he is now rejoicing in the happy effects of it, infinitely more than all the applause which his philosophical works have procured him, though they have commanded a fame lastincr as the world."
The disorder of which he died, was supposed to be the stone in the bladder; which was, at
SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 189
Ifmes, 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 cighty-fiflh year of his age. In his principles, and conduct throusfh life, he has left a stroncp and comfortable evidence, that the highest intel- lectual powers harmonize with religion and virtue : and that there is nothing in Christianity but what will abide the scrutiny of the soundest and most enlaro-ed understandincr.
o o
How great and satisfactory a confirmation is it to the sincere, humble Christian, and what an insurmountable barrier does it present to the in- fidel, 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 acknowledged to be ornaments of human nature, when we consider the wide compass of their abilities, the great extent of their learning and knowledge, and their piety, their zeal for truth, and their beneficence. These eminent characters firmly adhered to the belief of Christi- anity, after the most diligent and exact researches into the life of its Founder, the authenticity of its records, the completion of its prophecies, the sub- limity of its doctrines, the purity of its precepts, and the arguments of its adversaries.
SECTION IV. BISHOP BURNET.
Gilbert Burxet, bishop of Salisbury, was born at Edinburgh, in the year 1643. He was carefully educated by his father : and having a strong con- stitution and a prodigious memory, he applied himself closely to stud}^, and acquired a great por- tion of learning and knowledge, which he seemed to have ready for all occasions. He travelled through France, Italy, and Holland ; where he formed connexions with many of the greatest per sons 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, Brownisis, Papists, and Unitarians ; among each of which, he used frequently to declare, he met with men of such unfeigned piety and virtue, that he became strongly fixed in a principle of universal charity, and an invincible abhorrence of all severi ties on account of religious opinions.
He was instrumental in promoting the Revolu tion ; and lived in great fa\our with William and Mary, and Queen Anne. He distinguished him self in the house of lords, by declaring for mod erate measures, with regard to the clergy who
190
BISHOP BURNET. 191 -
scnipled 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 Reforma- tion," have been much read ; and for the latter, he rece'ived the thanks of both houses of parhament His account of Lord Rochester, is an elegant and interesting performance ; and a striking display of the truth and excellence of the Christian rehgion.
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 the reflections which this leisure produced. The followmg sen- timents, solemnly expressed by him towards the conclusion of his days, are so illustrative of tne ■ nature and power of true religion, and of its mflu- ence upon his own mind, that they claim a place in these memorials-
" «I shall conclude with recommei-idxg
to'air^ts of men, in the most solemn and seri- ous manner, the study and practice of rsligion. as that which is the most important of all things, and which is both the light of the world, and the salt of ihe earth.
"Ni,thin" so opens our faculties and com- poses and "directs the whole man, as m inward
192 BISHOP BURNET.
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 endeavours ; watching over our concems ; of his being to judge, and reward or punish us in another slate according to what we have done in this. Nothing will give us such a detestation of sin, and such a sense of the goodness of God, and of our obliga- tions 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 hap- piest creature that he is capable of being. Honest industry, the employing of time well, a constant sobriety, an uiidefiled purity and chastity, with continued serenity, are the best preservatives too of life and health : so that take a man as an indi- vidual, religion is his guard, his perfection, his beauty, and his glory. This will make him a light in the world, shining brightly, and enlighten- ing many round about him.
" Thus, religion, if truly received and sincerely adhered to, would prove the greatest of all bles- sings to a nation. But, by religion, I understand something more than receiving particular doc- trines, though ever so true, or professing them, and engaging to support them, even with zeal and eagerness. What signify the best doctrines, if
BISHOP BURNET 193
men do not live suitably to them ; if they have not a due influence upon their thoughts and their lives ? Men of bad lives, with sound opinions, are self-con- demned, and lie under a highly-aggravated guilt.
" By religion, I do not mean an outward com- pliance with forms and customs, in going to church, to prayers, to sermons, and to sacraments, with an external show of devotion ; 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 con- trol and rectify their appetites, passions, and secret designs. These customary performances, how good and useful soever when understood and riglitly directed, are of little 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 prayers, the most effectual means, are designed for a higher end ; which is, to possess our minds with such a constant and present sense of 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 becomes the spring of a new nature within him ; reforming his thoughts and designs ; purifying his hearty
17
194 BISHOP BURNET.
sanctifying and governing his whole deportment, his words as well as his 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 perfection 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 ill mix- tures are the perpetual grief of his soul, so that it is his chief care to watch over and to mortify them, he will be in a continual progress, still gaining ground upon himself; and as he attains lo a degree of purit}^, he will find a nobler flame of life and joy growing up in him. Of this I write with a greater concern and emotion, be- cause 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 com- plete happiness."
SECTION V.
LORD ROCHESTER.
John Wilmot, afterwards earl of Rochester was born in 1647, at Ditchley, in Oxfordshire After his education was completed, he travelled into France and Italy ; and, at his return, devoted himself to the court, and was in great favour with Charles the Second. He had very early an incli- nation to intemperance, which he seemed to have totally subdued in his travels; but afterwards falling into dissolute and vicious company, he gave way to his former propensity ; and became corrupt in his principles, and depraved in his manners. He lost all sense of religious restraint ; and, finding it not convenient to admit the author- ity of laws which he was resolved not to obey, sheltered his wickedness behind infidehty.
As he excelled in that noisy and licentious merriment which wine excites, his companions eagerly encouraged him in excess, and he wil- lingly 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.
195
196 LORD ROCHESTER.
Thus, in a course of drunken gayety, and gross sensuality, with seasons of study perhaps yet more criminal, with an avowed contempt of all decency and order, a total disregard to every mora.' and a resolute denial of every religious obligation he lived worthless and useless, and blazed out his youth and his health in lavish voluptuousness ; till, at the age of one-and-thirty, he had nearly exhausted the fund of life, and had reduced him- self to a state of weakness and decay.
At this time he was led to an acquaintance with Dr. Biu'net, to whom he laid open with great freedom the tenour of his opinions, and the course of his life ; and from vviiom he received such con- viction of the reasonableness of moral duty, and the truth of Christianity, as, by the Divine bles sing, produced a total 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 continue in his senses, and certainly not to be master of himself: but Dr. Burnet affirms, tliat he was "under no such decay as either darken- ed or weakened his understanding; nor troubled with the spleen or vapours, or under the power of melancholy." In proof of this assertion, the follow ing letter is produced ; in which nothing is omitted but some personal compliments to the Doctor : —
LORD ROCHESTER. 197
" Woodstock-Pai'k, Oxfordshire, "My most honoured Dr. Burnet,
" My spirits and body decay equally together : 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 much I glory in 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 repent- ance ; and perform that promise he has been pleased to make, that at what time soever a sin- ner doth repent, he would receive him. Put up these prayers, most dear doctor, to Almighty
God, for your most obedient, languishing ser- vant,
" Rochester. "^Jime 25, 1680."
Soon after the receipt of this letter. Dr. Bur- net 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 Redeem.er ; the
198 LORD ROCHESTER.
horrors he had gone through ; the sincerity of his repentance ; and the earnestness with which his mind was turned to call on God, and on his cruci- fied Saviour, to have mercy upon him.
Discoursing one day of the manner of his life from his youth, and bitterly upbraiding himsell for his manifold transgressions, he exclaimed, " 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 sick- ness, he said : " Shall the unspeakable joys of heaven be conferred on me ? O mighty Saviour ! never, but through thy infinite love and satis faction ! 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, propagated 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 might be strengthened, and cried out : *' Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief."
LORD ROCHESTER. 199
He expressed great esteem for the Holy Scrip- lures, and resolved that if God should spare him, he would frequently read them, and meditate upon them : " for, having spoken to his heart, he ac- knowledged that all the seeming absurdities and contradictions, which men of corrupt and repro- bate judgment supposed to be in them, were van- ished : and now that he loved and received the truth, their beauty and excellence appeared."
He 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 imagi- nations, " I thank God," said he, " 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 from him, that thus troubles me ; but the goodness of God frees me from ail my spir- itual enemies."
He often called for his children, and spoke to ihem 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 unthankful creature !" He ex-
200 LORD ROCHESTER.
pressed much concern for the pious education of his children ; and " wished his son might never be a wit; one of those wretched creatures," as he explained it, " wdio pride themselves in deny- ing the being or the providence of 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 bis papers were, to burn all his obscene and filthy pictures, which were so notoriously scandalous; and all his profane and lewd wri tings, by which he had so highly offended, and shamed, and blasphemed, that holy religion into which he had been baptized.
He was ready to make restitution, to the ut- most 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.
He expressed a tender concern for his servants, and those who attended him ; and earnestly ex- horted them to love and fear God. To a gentle- man of some character, who came to see him on his death-bed, he said : " O remember that you contemn God no more. He is an avenmn^ God, and will visit you for your sins ; and will, 1 hope.
LORD ROCHESTER. 201
in mercy, touch your conscience, sooner or later, as lie has done mine. You and I have been friends and sinners together a great while, and therefore I am the more free with you. We have been all mistaken in our conceits and opinions ; our persuasions have been false and groundless ; therefore God grant you repent- ance." 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 striking his hand upon his breast, he added, "I hope God will touch your heart."
He w^as very desirous to testify to the world his repentance for his past misconduct ; and to make every reparation in his power for the mischiefs, \vhich, by his e?vample and Avritings, he had oc- casioned. He sent messages, which well became a dying penitent, to some of his former friends. He strictly enjoined the pious persons who at- tended him during his last sickness, to publish any thing concerning him that might be a means to reclaim others ; prajn'ng to God, that, as his life had done much hurt, so his death might do some good. Be caused the following solemn declaration to be drawn up, which he signed with his own hand : —
"For the benefit of all those wdiom T may have drawn into sin, by my example and encour-
202 LORD ROCHESTEn.
agement, I leave to the world this my last decla ration, 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 ; 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 sufiiciently admire the goodness of God, who has given me a true sense of my pernicious opinions, and vile prac- tices ; by which I have hitherto lived, without hope, and without God in' the world ; have been an open enemy to Jesus Christ, doing the ut- most 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 souls, 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 excellent religion of my ever-blessed Redeemer, through whose merits alone, I, one of the 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, ho
LORD ROCHESTER. 203
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, " God should spare me yet a little longer time here, I hope to bring glory to his name, propor- tionable to the dishonour I have done him, in m;/ whole life past : and particularly, by endeavours to convince others of the danger of their condition, if they continue impenitent ; and by telling them how graciously God has dealt with me."
Near the close of life, he was often heard to pray fer\-ently. 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 expression, 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 mv Saviour !"
Thus died, in the thirty-third 3'ear of his age the celebrated earl -of Rochester ; a memorable instance of the goodness and mercy of God, rtA of the power of his grace, to purify and redeem the most corrupt and obdurate offender. From this case, and 'from many other instances, the truly penitent sinner, though his sills have been
'204 ' LOUD ROCHESTER.
as scarlet or as crimson, may derive hope that God will, even in his greatest* extremity, bear his prayers, and accept his repentance : but none should presume on the Divine Mercy, by defer- ring their amendment till they are brouglit to the bed of sickness and death. They may suddenly be taken away ; they may not have their under- standing in the time of illness ; they may be de- ceived 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 afflic- tion with patience and resignation : and, with joy ful 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, wln'ch," as Dr. Johnson says, " the critic ought to read for its elegance, the philosopher for its argu ments, and the saint for its piety."
CHAPTER VII.
Q.ueen Mary— Herman Boerhaave — Joseph Addison- Ann Baynard — Elizabeth Rowe — Doctor Watts.
SECTION I. aUEEN 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 37-ear 1661. Slie 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 in- struction, but she wanted no persuasion. And it is said, that she never once, in the whole course of her education, gave occasion for reproof. Be- sides a most amiable sweetness of temper, slie possessed great understanding, and a mind cultiva- ted with useful learning and knowledge.
She w^as married in the sixteenth year of her age, to the prince of Orange, and went to reside
18 206
206 QUEEN MARY.
in Holland, where she conducted herself with s& much wisdom and goodness, as to gain universal esteem and affection. But that which was, beyond all comparison, her greatest ornament and pos- session, was a truly devout and religious temper which made her look with indifference on the honours and splendour with which she was sur- rounded; 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 ten- derly loved, and who best knew her 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 afHiction and distress : in the present instance of Queen Mary,. ihe virtue and preserving natuie of the same ^iivine principle, is evidenced amidst the magni-
QUEEN MARY. 207
ficence of i court, and the sunshine of worldly prosperity It is, indeed, a principle of universal agencys^; adapted to all ranks of men, and to every allotment of Providence ; a sure preserva- tive when things are smiling around us, and a sovereign remedy for, or support under, all the calamities of life.
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, writ- ten in early life, in support of the Protestant faith, she appears to have been thoroughly grounded and established in the principles of the Reforma- tion. Bishop Burnet says, that "although he had a high opinion of the princess's good under- standing, 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, with- out consulting any one, able to write in so solid and learned a manner."
Her talents and abilities were very conspicuous in all her concerns, and particularly, in the im- pintan'; charge of government. Doctor Tillotson, 2:cl!bishop of Canterbury, said, that "he was in great admiration at the proofs he knew the queen g"Ye of her knowledge, in the weighty affairs of slate, in the king's absence, when the executive part of the government was in her hands."
208 QUEEN MARY.
Her compassion and bounty to tlie poor and afflicted, and those who stood in need of her lib- erahty, were very eminent, and such as corre- sponded with her exalte-d station, and the abrai dant sources of rehef to which she had access She took care to have a just account both of the worthiness, and the necessities, of those who were candidates for her hberahty ; and, in the con- ducting of her charity, showed as much exact- ness, attention and dihgence, as if she had no cares of a higher nature. But what crowned all, was her exact conformity to the rule of the Gospel in her munificence : 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, was a noble support to her under the troubles of life : yet there were some distresses to which it gave a sharper edge. The impieties and blasphemies, the open contempt of religion, and the scorn of virtue, which she heard of from many persons, and from many different parts of the nation, gave her a secret horror ; and presented her with so gloomy a prospect, as filled her mind Vv^ith melan choly reflections. She was very sensibly touched, when she heard that some, who pretended to much zeal for the crown and the revolution, Bcemed thence to think they had a sort of right
QCEEN MARY. 209
to be indulged in their licentiousness, and irregu- larities. She often said, *^Can a blessing be ex- pected 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 dis- union of the Protestants in general, very much affected her; 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 of any thing that looked like a misc'arriage 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."
18*
210 QUEEN MARY.
In her brightest seasons, she did not suffer her self to be lulled into security, nor did she with draw her dependance upon God. In the pleas ures of life, she maintained a true indifference s' to their continuance ; and seemed to think o\ parting with them, in so easy a manner, as plainl}? showed how little possession ihcy had of her heart.
At one period of her life, she felt such indispo- sition of body, as induced her to believe that some great sickness was approaching : but, on this occasion, she possessed great quietude and resignation ; 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 re- ferred 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 main- tained 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 appre- hended 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
QUEEN MARY. 211
<5ealh-be(l repentance : I am not now to begin the great work of preparing for death ; and, I praise God, I am not afraid of it." Under the weight of her disorder, which v/as very trying to nature, she appeared to feel no inward depression or dis- couragement of mind. A willingness to die, and an entire resignation to the will of God, accom- panied her to the closing scene ; in the near ap-' proach of which she declared, that " she experi- enced the joys of a good conscience, and the pow- er 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, as this, and others which are mentioned in the -present work, is sufficient, at times, to elevate the soul, and to make all the glories and enjoyments of this transient scene, sink into nothing. Ah ! these are favoured, pre- cious moments, when the Divine Power of Re- ligion breaks in upon us, dissolves the enchant- ment of the world, dissipates the mist of vain doubts and speculation, and raises a fervent aspira- tion, 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 !
SECTION II,
BOERHAAVE.
Herman Boeriiaave, one of the greatest pljy- slcians, and best of men, was born in Holland, in the year 166S. This illustrious person, whose name has been spread throughout the world, and who left at his death above two hundred thousand pounds sterling, was, at his first setting out in life, oblisccd to teach the mathematics to obtain a ne- cessary support. His abilities, industry, and great merit, soon gained him friends, placed him in easy circumstances, and enabled him to be bountiful to others.
The knowledo-e and learnintr of this ffreat man, however uncommon, hold, in his character, but the second place ; his virtue was yet much more uncommon than his literar}'- attainments. He was an admirable example of temperance, fortitude, humility, and devotion. His piety, and profound sense of his dependance on God, were the basis of all his virtues, and the principle of his whole conduct. He was too sensible of his weakness to ascribe any thing to himself, or to conceive that he could subdue passion, or withstand temptation by liis own natural power: he attributed every good thought and every laudable action to the Fa ther of Goodness. Being once asked by a friend,
212,
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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 entirely suppressed that impetuous and ungovern- able passion ; he answered, with the utmost frank- ness 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 for private prayer and meditation. This, he often told his friends, gave him spirit and vigour in the business of the day ; and this he therefore commended as the best rule of life : for nothing, he knew, can support the soul in all 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 author- ity of the Holy Scriptures. The excellence of the Christian religion was the frequent subject of his conversation. A strict obedience to the doctrine, find a dilfgent imitation of the example, of our blessed Saviour, he often declared to be the found- Rtion of true tranquillity. He was liberal to the distressed, but without ostentation. He often obliged his friends in such a manner, that they
214 BOERHAAVE.
knew not, unless by accident, to whom they were indebted. He was condescending to all, and par- ticularly attentive in his profession. He used to say, that the life of a patient , if trifled with or neg- lected, would one day be required at the hand of the physician. He called the poor his best pa- tients : for God, said he, is their paymaster. In conversation, he was cheerful and instructive ; and desirous of promoting 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 Dy perseverance in well-doing ; and by praying to • God, that he would cure the distem.pered minds of those who traduce and injure us.'*
About the middle of the year 1737, he felt tha first approaches of that lingering disorder, which at length brought him to the grave. During this afflictive illness, his constancy and firmness did not forsake him. He neither intermitted the ne cessary cares of life, nor forgot the proper prepa rations for death.
He related to a friend, with great concern, tha once his patience so far gave way to extremity of pain, that, after having lain fifteen hours in
BOERHAAYE, 2^5
exquisite tortures, he prayed to God that he might be set free by death. His friend, by way of con- solation, answered, that he thought such wishes, when forced by continued and excessive torments, unavoidable in the present state of human nature ; 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 such his conduct, in this state of weakness and pain. As death advanced 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 lamented, in the 70th year of his age.
In contemplating the character of this excel- lent man, what strikes us most is, that far from being made impious by philosophy, or vain by knowledge or by virtue, he ascribed all his abili- ties to the bounty, and all his goodness to the grace, of God. " May his example," says Dr. John- son, his biographer, " extend its influence to his admirers and follovv^ers ! May those who study his writings, imitate his life ; and those who endeavour after his knowledge, aspire likewise to his piety !"
SECTION III.
JOSEPH ADDISON.
Joseph Addison, a celebrated English v/ritcr, was born at Milston, in Wiltshire, in the 3'ear 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 surprisiisg proficiency in classical learning. Before he left the university, he w^as warmly solicited to enter into orders ; and he once resolved to do so : but his great modesty, 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 contemporaries. He travelled into Italy, where he made many useful observa- tions, and prepared materials for some of his lite rary works. On his return to England, he was chosen one of the lords commissioners for trade In 1709, he was appointed secretary to the lord lieutenant of Ireland: and 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 hi»
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JOSEPH ADDISON. 217
character, as a writer, gives the following amiable picture of him : " He employed wit on the side of virtue and religion. He not only made the proper use of wit himself, but taught it to others ; and, from his time, it has been generally sub- servient to the cause of reason and truth. He has dissipated 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 charac ter, above all Greek, above all Roman, fame. As a teacher of wisdom, he may be confidently followed. His religion has nothing in it enthusi- astic or superstitious ; he appears neither weakly credulous, nor wantonly skeptical ; his morality is neither dangerously lax, nor impracticably rigid. All the 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 materially 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 follows : — " And now, sir, believe
19
2J3 JOSEPH ADDISON,
me, when I assure you, I never did, nor ever wilt, on an}'- 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 ; but I could not from myself! and I hope I shall always fear the re- proaches of my own heart more than those of all mankind."
A mind conscious of its own uprightness, and humbly trusting in the goodness of God, has the best ground to look forward with complacency towards another life. The following lines of Addison are sweetly expressive of the peace and pleasure which he enjoyed, in contemplating his future existence : — " The prospect 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 sup- ports me under all my afflictions. I can look at disappointments and misfortunes, pain and sick- ness, 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 apprehensions, pains or sorrows."
The virtue of this excellent man shone brightest at the point of death. After a long and manly, but vain struggle with his distempers, he dismissed his physicians, and with them all hopes of life ; but
JOSEPH ADDISON. 219
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 accom- plished, but irregular in conduct and principle ; on whom his pious instructions and example had not produced the desired effect. Lord W^wick came : but life now glimmering in the socket, the dymg friend Vv^as silent. After a decent and pro- per pause, the youth said : " Dear sir ! you sent for me : I believe, and hope you have some com mands : I shall hold tliem most dear." — May the reader not only feel the reply, but retain its im- pression ! 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 mercy, how sting- less death !
SECTION IV. ANN BAYNARD.
Ann Baynard was descended from an ancicfit rjid respectable family, and was born 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 pursuit of learning and knowledge. But when she formed a serious estimate of things, and compared the liighest accomplishments of this life, with the possession of Divine Peace, and the hope of eter nal 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 comparison of the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus her Lord ; and that human learning is worth but little, unless it serve as a handmaid to the knovv'ledge of Christ revealed in the Gospel, as our only Lord and Saviour." " What avails," said she, " Solomon's skill in the Avorks of nature, if by it we are not brought to see the God of nature ? What advan . tage is it to be so learned in astronomy, or the knowledge of the heavens, that we can foretel
220
ANN BAYNARD. 221
things to come, if we never study, by our 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 gayeties and splendour. Having experienced the happi- ness of a devout and pious life, she 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 to promote his liQ^iour 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.
SECTION T. ELIZABETH ROWE.
Elizabeth Rowe, the daughter of a very re- spectable dissenting minister, was born at Ilches- ter, in Somersetshire, in the year 1674. She dis- covered 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 un- common elegance of mind, and exquisite sensi- bility. She also manifested a pious and devout disposition, even w^hen she was very young. It was a peculiar happiness to her, that, early in life, she enjoyed the friendship of the pious Bishop Ken ; at whose request she wrote a para- phrase on the 38th chapter of Job.
Her shining merit, and various accomplish- ments, procured her many admirers : but the person who obtained her in marriage, was Tiiomas Rowe, a gentleman of uncommon parts and learn- ing, 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.
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ELIZABETH ROWE. 223
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 re- treat, the religious temper of her mind increased ; 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 we shall insert a part of it in this col- lection.
" The * Reflections' were occasionally written, and only for my own improvement ; but T am not without hope that they may have the game salu- tary effect on some pious minds, as reading the experience of others has had on my own soul. The experimental part of religion has generally a greater influence than the theory of it; and if, when 1 am sleeping in the dust, these solilo- quies 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 !"
224 ELIZABETH ROWE.
" I have now done with mortal things, and all to come is vast eternity ! — Eternity ! how trans- porting 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 satisfied for ever. I shall drink at the fountain-head of pleasure, and be refreshed with the emanations of original hfe and joy. I shall hear tlie voice of uncreated har- mony, speaking peace and ineffable consolation to my soul.
" I expect eternal life, not as a reward of merit, but as a pure act of bounty. Detesting myselt in every view I can take, I fly to the righteous- ness 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 havo 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 desires satisfied with the full fruition of inomortal love. Amen."
SECTION VI. DOCTOR WATTS.
Isaac Watts, a learned and eminent dissent- ing minister, was born at Southampton, in the year 1674, of parents who were distinguished by their piety and virtue. He possessed uncom- mon genius, and gave early proofs of it. He re- ceived a very liberal education, which was ren- dered highly beneficial to him, by his own un- wearied efforts to improve himself. After the most serious deliberation, he determined to de- vote his life to the ministry ; of the importance of which office he had a deep and awful sense. He laboured very dihgently to promote the instruc- tion and happiness of the people under his care : and, by his Christian conduct and amiable dispo- sition, greatly endeared himself to them.
Soon after he had undertaken the pastoral office, his heakh sustained a severe shock, by a painful and dangerous illness ; from which he re- covered very slowly. But in the year 1712, 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
225
226 DOCTOR WATTS.
public offices of his station. Thougli this xong in- terval of sickness was, no doubt, very trying to his active mind, yet it proved ultimately a blessing : for it drew upon him the particular notice of Sir Thomas Abney, a very pious and worthy man, who, from motives of friendship, invited him into his family : in which he continued to the end of his life ; and, for the long space of thirty-six years, was treated with uniform kindness, atten- tion, and respect.
Dr. Johnson's judicious account of Watts, ex- hibits 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 tem- per, quick of resentment ; but, by his established and habitual practice, he was gentle, modest, and inoffensive. His tenderness appeared 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 annuai 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 behind them such purity of character, or
DOCTOR WATTS. 227
r
sucli 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 "Improvement of the Mind," is a work in the highest degree useful and pleasing. — Whatever he took in hand was, by his incessant solicitude for souls, convert- ed to theology. As piety predominated in his mind, it is diffused over his works. Under his direction it may be truly said, that philosophy is subservient to evangelical instruction : it is diffi- cult to read a page without learning, or at least wishing, to be better."
The virtue of this good man eminently appear- ed, in the happy state of his mind, under great pains and weakness of body, and in the improve- ment which ne derived from them. Of those sea- sons 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 reh- gion, though sometimes T had much difficulty to preserve the machine of animal nature in such order, as regularly to exercise either the man or the Christian."
228 DOCTOR WATTS»
The sweet peace of conscience he enjoyed, un- der these trying circunnstances ; and the rational and Christian foundation of his hope and trust in the Divine Goodness ; are beautifully and justly expressed by him in the following lines : —
" 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 composed. 'Tis wondrous 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-beams, 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 conveys.
" O 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 Heav'n.
DOCTOR WATTS. ' 229
^My God, permit a creeping worm to say. Thy Spirit knows I love thee ! — Worthless wretch, To dare to love a God ! — But 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 seized, 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, al- leviated, what excellent effects were produced in his mind ! How was his heart enlarged with lore and gratitude to God ! and in what pathetic lan- guage did he pour out his spirit !
" Almighty Power, 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 thy holy throne, 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, Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf To mortal cries. It noticed all ray groans,
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230 DOGTOR WATTS^
And sighs, and long complaints, with wise delay, Though painful to the suff'rer; and thy hand la proper moment brought desired relief,"
And now, how amiable does he appear^ when the slmdows of the evening were stretching over him ! Two or three years before his decease, the active and sprightly powers of his nature gradu- ally failed; yet his trust in God, through Jesus the Mediator, remained unshaken to the last. He -was heard to say : " I bless God I can lie dowa with comfort at night, not being solicitous whether I awake in this world or another." And again : ** 1 should be glad to read more ; yet not in order to be further confirmed in the truth of the Chris- tian religion, or in the truth of its promises ; for I believe tiiem enough to venture an eternity upon- tliem."
When he was almost worn out, and broken down by his infirmities, he said, in conversation with a friend ; " I remember an aged minister used to obseiTC, that 'the most learned and know- ing Christians, when they come to die, have only the same plain promises of the Gospel for their sup})ort, as the common and unlearned :* and so, 1 find it. It is the plain promises of the Gospel ihaLSire my support ; and, I bless God, they are plain promises, that do not require much labour and pains to understand them."
DOCTOR WATTS. 231
At times, when he found his spirit tending to impatience, and ready to complain that he could only lead a mere animal hfe, he would check him- self thus : " The business of a Christian is, to bear the will of God, as well as to do it. If I were in health, 1 ought to be doino; it, and now it is my duly 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 Ave can."
With so calm and peaceful a mind, so blessed and lively a hope, did the resigned servant of Christ wait for his Master's summons. He quietly expired in the 75th year of his age.
CHAPTER VIII.
Colonel Gardiner — Lady Elizabeth Hastings— 11. Hous- man — Doctor Doddridge.
SECTION I.
COLONEL GARDINER.
James Gardiner, a native of Scotland, waa 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 lan- guages. His mother, with great tenderness and solicitude for his future happiness, instructed him in the principles of Christianity. The good effects of her prudent and exemplary care, were not, in the younger part of her son's life, so evident as she desired ; hut there is great reason to believe, that her instructions were nol lost. They were the occasion of many convic tions, which, though for a time overborne, were afterwards happily remembered and revived. He used to make this observation for the encourage ment of parents and pious frieads, to do their duty
oqo
COLONEL GARDINER. 233
towards young persons, and to hope for the best effects, though they may not immediately appear, s
He was a man of sound understanding, and ci a frank, obliging, and generous temper. From the persuasions of a friend, and the ardour of hia 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 consid- ered as providential : but, in his unconverted state, he never viewed them in that light; and they made no serious impression on his mind. For many years after he had attained the age of man- hood, he appears to have devoted himself to sen- sual pursuits. With a strong constitution of body, great flow of animal spirits, fine personal accom- phshments, and a large circle of gay and dissipa- ted companions, he seemed as amply qualified as most men, to range in the field of animal enjoy- ments, and to extract from it all that is capable of yielding. Yet this complete 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." Beins: at one time congratulated by some of his dissolute com- panions, on his distinguished felicity, and a dog happening to coZDe into the room, he could not forbear groaning avardly, and saying to himself, " Oh ! that I we 1 iat dog !" Such was then his
20*
234 COLONEL GARDINER.
happiness ; and such, perhaps, is that of hundreds more, who express the greatest contempt of reli- gion, and glory in a miserable servitude, which they affect to call liberty.
His continual neglect of the 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 him, in some moments of involuntary reflection, inexpressible remorse ; and this, at times, wrought upon hin'. to such a degi'ee, that he resolved he would at tempt to pay him some acknowledgments. Ac cordingly, for a time he did it ; repeating, in retirement, passages out of the Psalms, and per- haps other Scriptures, which he still retained in his memory ; and owning, in a few strong words, the many mercies and deliverances he had re- ceived, and the ill returns he had made for them. But these emotions were too devout to continue long in a heart as yet quite unsanclified : for how readily soever he could repeat acknov^ledgments 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 de- sire to forsake ; and of pretending to praise God for his mercies, though he did not endeavour to live in his service, and to behave in such a manner as gratitude, if sincere, would have dictated.
COLONEL GARDINER. 235
About tlie thirty-first year of his age, it pleased ^od to make him deeply sensible of the great wickedness of his life, and of the dreadful con- sequences of persisting in it. He became truly penitent, lived ever afterwards with great circum- spection, and was a bright and steady example of piety and goodness.
After this great change in his heart and life, lie did not entirely withdraw himself from cheerful conversation; but, on the contrary, gave several hours every day to it, lest religion should be re- proached, as having made iiim morose. lie, 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 re- turn, to make any considerable abode in England, after his singular conversion. He had heard, whilst he was at Paris, that it was currently re- ported among his companions in England, that he was stark mad. He concluded, therefore, that he should have many battles to fight, and was willing to despatch the business as fast as he could. And, therefore, intending to spend a few days at the country-house of a person of distinguished ranlc, with whom he had been very intimate, he desired
236 COLON£L GAIIDXNER.
him to contrive that, a day or two after he ctime, several of their former gay companions 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 rea- sons of his change. It was accordingly agreed to ; and a pretty large company met on the day ap- pointed, 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 mrnutes : and tlTen plainly and seriously informed them what were his sentiments of religion and virtue ; and on what ground he had determined, 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 contem-pt he might incur. He then challenged them to propose any thing they could urge, to prove that a life of irreligion and debauchery was 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 testimony, from his own exj)e- rience, (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, lie had never tasted any thing that deserved to be
COLONEL GARDIXER. 237
called happiness, till he had made religion his refuge and his delight. He described, calmly and boldly, the habitual serenity and peace that he now felt in his own breast, (for the most ele- vated 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 objects, which the gayest sinner must acknowledge to be equally unavoidable and dreadful.
After this solemn and manly defence of his principles and conduct, the master of the table, who was a sensible and candid person, 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 ob- served, that he was still conversable and inno- cently cheerful, and that he was immoveable in his resolutions, they desisted from farther impor- tunity. And he afterwards 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 die religious state of his mind, and what great
238 COLONEL GARDINER.
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 you, think of the present circum- stances of things. For my own part, though I thank God I fear nothing for myself, my appro hensions for the public are ver}'- gloomy, consider- ing the deplorable prevalence of almost all kinds of wickedness amongst us : the natural consequence of the contempt of the Gospel. I am daily offer- ing up my prayers to God for this sinful land of ours, over which his judgment seems to be gather- ing ; 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 perfect 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 no mountains
COLONEL GAaJi)INER. S30
isliall separate between God and o^r souls ! And I i^ope it will be some addition to our happiness, ihat you and I shall be separated no more ; but that, as we have joined in singing the praises of our glorious Redeemer here, we shall sing tliem 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! Oh ! that our children may be wise to salvation ; tmd may grow in grace as they do in stature !"
On another occasion he writes thus : — " 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 ! 0 ! 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 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, m 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
240 COLOJNEL tJAIiDINEKr
them, as the flights of enthusiasm. But when we consider the scriptural phrases, " of walking with God ; 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 equivalent expressions ; we shall see 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 depend- ance on the divine promises : a full persuasion of the wisdom -and goodness of all the dispen sations 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 ao-e has produced : and in proportion to the degi'ce in w^hich he was so, he must be esteemed one of the wisest and happiest of mankind. — " How often," says the pious Grove, " are good thoughts suggest ed, heavenly affections kindled and inflamed ! how often is the Ch.ristian prompted to holy actions, drawn to his duty, restored, quickened^ persuaded, in such a manner, that he would be unjust to the Spirit of God, to question his agency
COLONEL GARDINER. 241
in the whole ! Yes, O my soul ! there is a Su- preme Being, who governs the world, and is pre- sent with it ; who takes up his more special habi- tation 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, actu- ating thy faculties, exalting thy views, purifying thy passions, exciting thy graces, and begetting in thee an abhorrence of sin, and a love of holi- ness ? And is not all this an argument of his pres- ence, as truly as if thou didst see him ?"
The cheerful and happy state of mind, for which this excellent man had been remarkable, 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, some- times rose to an unusual blaze. " O !" said he, on a particular occasion, " how gracious a Master do we serve ! hoAV 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 continue but 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 Scriptures, with which he had as intimate an acquaintance as most
21
242 COLONEL GARDINER.
men, continued to be his daily study. They furnished him with frequent matter of conversa tion, 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 impression 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 verified to him by long experience : " Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee ; because he trusteth in thee." And with peculiar satisfaction he uttered these heroic words in Ha bakkuk, which he found armour of proof against every fear, and every contingence : " Though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; the labom: of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flocks shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation."
He died in the 57th year of his age.
SECTION II. LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS.
In the life, sufferings, and death, of Lady Eliza- beth Hastings, we have a hvely instance of the power and support of rehgion.
An ingenuous temper, a quickness of under- standing, a benevolent spirit, a flexibility of na- ture, and a solemn sense of divine things, were observable in her tender age ; and, in the danger- ous ascent of life, her feet were guided and pre- served in the paths 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 triflinfr amusements. Throudi the whole course of her time, her lamp shone brightly ; and in mature age, diffused its light and influence in a wide extent around her.
It appears that the great aim of her life was, to promote the glory of God, and the welfare of men, keeping her talents, extensive 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,
244
LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 245
the fatlierless and the widow ; the needy, and him that had no helper ; 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 particular cases, and put them in the way of improving their condition. 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 hardships 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 honour, truth, compassion, knowledge, and innocence. In the midst of the most ample fortune, and the venera- tion of all that beheld and knew her, without the least affectation, she devoted herself to retire- ment, to the contemplation of her own being, and of that supreme Power which bestowed it. Without the learning of schools, or knowledge of a lontT course of arguments, she went on in an uninterrupted course of piety and virtue ; and added to the severity and privacy of the last age, all the freedom and ease of this. The lan(Tua2;e and mien of a court she was possessed of in a high degree; but the simplicity and humble
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246 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS.
thoughts of a cottage, were her more welcome ■entertainments. Slie 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 beautiful, 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."
Towards the close of life, she experienced great bodily affliction, having a cancer in the breast, for which she underwent an amputation. But in all her sufferings from this cause, and even under the trying operation, her religious forti- tude and serenity of mind did not forsake her. The resignation 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 painful 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 niglit subsequent to the operation did not afford her much sleep, but it was a night of ce leslial peace ; a time of thanksgiving to her God, for the visible demonstration of his power in and about her ; for his stretched-out arm in her great
LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 247
deliverance ; for the bountiful provisions he had made for all the wants of her soul and body ; and, in a word, for all his blessings conferred 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 again with new malignity, and, at length, put a period to all her sorrows. Her lamp and her life were, however, to be extin- guished together : she was pious and beneficent to the last.
A short time before her departure, impressed with a strong sense of Divine Goodness, she broke out, with a raised accent, in the following man- ner : " Lord ! what is it that I see ? O the great- ness of the glory that is revealed in me ! that is before me !" So joyful appears to have been her entrance into the kingdom of her Lord and Saviour. — She died in the year 1740.
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 springing up in their minds, beyond expression ; a felicity more moving and satisfactory than any can imagine, but they who
248 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS.
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 probationary scene and how animating a source of encourage- ment, during our pilgrimage, to rise above, and look beyond, all the troubles of time !
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 Housman, 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 thir- teen years of age. From 1711. when her diary begins, to 1735, the time of her death, her life seems to have been a circumspect walking in the fear of God. The following account of her last illness and death, w'as drawn up by a person who attended her throughout.
From the lime of her first seizure, she was exercised with very violent pains, without any inter- mission, till her death ; such as, she would Chen say she tnought she could not have borne: *' but," said she, " God is good ; verily he is good to me ! I have found him a good and gracious God to me all my days."
When recovering from extreme pain she said:
249
250 H. HOUSMAN.
"God is good; I have found him so; and though he slay me, yet I wijl 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 I why for me, the greatest of sinners 1 Why for me, who so long refused the rich offers 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 advantages and helps for communion with God, and the peace of my own mind : for which 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 benefits !"
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 wil! 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 plea
II. HOUSMAN. 251
sure. 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 all sin. But mistake me not; there must be a life and conversa- tion agreeable to the Gospel, or else 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, perishing 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 affeclions on riches, or on any thing here below. Remember, 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 at- tendant's warming a piece of flannel, and putting
S5i: H. HOUSMA^
it round lier cold 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 sup- ported me through the whole of my life. Hitherto I can say, the Lord is 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 dehghts 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 me 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 tliis world, and all its transient comforts ; 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 she died, she said : *' My dear, I think I am going apace ; and I hope you will be satisfied, because it is the will of God. You have at all times been very lovinfj 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 willing to go. I am willing to be, and to bear, what may be most for his glory "
H. HOTJSMAN. 253
The evening before she died, she found deatli steaUng upon her ; and, feeling her own pulse, said : " Well, it will be but a little while before my work in this world ^vill be finished. Then I shall have done with prayer. My whole employ- ment in heaven will be praise and love. Here, I love God but faintly, yet, I hope, sincerely; bnt there it will be perfectly. I shall behold his face in righteousness ; for I am thy servant, Lord ! bought witli blood, with precious blood. Christ died to purchase the life of my soul. — A little while, and then I shall l>e singing that sweet song, — * Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto niM 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 Ood, and Christ, and perfect spirits for ever and ever. When I join that blessed society above, my pleasures will never end. O the g^ory that shall be set on the head of faith and love !"
A few minutes before her departure, finding herself going, she desired to be lifted up. When this was done, she cheerfully said : " Farewell sint farewell pains !" — and so finished her course with joy.
S2
SECTION IV.
DOCTOR DODDRIDGE.
Philip Doddridge was born in London, in tils' 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 cir- cumstance excited in his mind very serious reflec- tions, which, how^ever, 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. Repossessed strong powers of mind, and, by unwearied application, acquired a large fund of sound and elegant learn ing. His publications, which are chiefly on re- ligious subjects, have been eminently useful to the world. By his literary acquisitions, his ami- able disposition, and his desire to imbue the young mind with knowledge and virtue, Ee was qualified, in a peculiar manner, to become the instructor of youth ; and for many years he super- intended a very respectable academy. As the pastor cr a congregation, he manifested a sincere
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DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 255
and zealous regard for the happiness of the peo- ple under his care, by whom he was greatly hon cured and beloved.
He possessed many virtues ; but the prime and leading feature of his sonl, 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 devout exercises, fox die important labours of his station. Nor was it to his secret retirements that his piety w^as limited: it was manifested 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 up his soul to God. When he lectured on philos- ophy, histor}^ anatomy, or other subjects not immediately theological, he would endeavour 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-crea- tnres. 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,
256 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE.
and pathetic feelings for the happiness of others but it was manifested 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 propaga- ting 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, and was ardent in endeavouring to inspire his friends with the same spirit.
He was of a weak and delicate bodily consti- tution ; and a severe cold which he caught about the forty-eighth year of his age, brought on a con- sumption of the lungs. The nearer he approached to his dissolution, the more plainly was observed his continual improvement in a spiritual and heavenly temper. Indeed, he seemed to have risen above the world, and to be daily oreathing after immortality. This disposition of his mind was ardently 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 lan- guage: "Whereas it is customary on these occa- sions, 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 encouraged to do it, by that glorious Gospel,
DOCTOR CODDRIDGE. 257
which, having most assuredly believed it, I have spent my life in preaching to others ; and which I esteem an 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 de- clhie, he was advised by his physicians and friends, as the last resort in so threatening a disor- der, to remove to a warmer climate. He accord- ingly went to Lisbon. His resignation lo the Di- vine disposal is strongly marked in a letter, which he wrote soon after his arrival 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 circum- stances, and assure them, that I cheerfully sub- mit myself to God. If I desire life may be re- stored, it is chiefly that it may be employed in seiTing Christ among them. I am enabled, by faith, to look upon death as an enemy that shall be destroyed ; and can cheerfully leave my- dear Mrs. Doddridge widow in a strange land, if
oo*
258 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE.
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 chmate did not produce the desired effect, and Dr. Doddridge continued gradually 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 rem.oval. To his children, his con- gregation, and his friends in general, he desired to be remembered in the most affectionate manner ; nor did he, in the effusions of his pious benevo- lence, forget the family where he lodged, or his own servant. Many devout sentiments and aspi- rations were uttered by him : but the heart of his wife was too much affected with his approaching change, to be able to recollect them distinctly. Though he died in a foreign land, and, in a cer- tain sense, among strangers, his decease was em- balmed with many tears.*
* A judicious life of this excellent man, written by Dr. Kinpis, is prefixed to ,he first volume of Dr. Doddridge's FairJly Ex* positor.
CHAPTER IX.
Louis, Duke of Orleans — Soame Jenyns — Lord Lyttel- ton — Jonas Hanway — Anthony Benezet — James Her- vey — Altamontj 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 distinguished for piety and learning, was born at Versailles, in the year 1703. He was the son of Philip, duke of Orleans, regent of France ; and of Mary Frances of Bourbon. He discovered, in his very childhood, a revp.rftnce for reh'gicm, a shining ge- nius, and an enlarged understanding. At an early age he became sensible of the vanity of titles, pre- eminence, and all the splendour of life. He pro- posed to himself a new mode of conduct, which he afterwards 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.
259
260 LOinS, DUKE OF ORLEANS^
His religion was not merely contemplative ; for he possessed a most extensive charity, and an en- lightened zeal for the public good. The indigent of every age, sex, and condition, excited his com- passionate regard. He daily heard their com- plaints, in one of the halls of the convent of St» Genevieve ; he sympathized with them ; he alle- viated their distresses. When it was not in his power to dismiss them entirely satisfied, his heart seemed to grant what necessity obliged Inm to refuse. It is hardly to be imagined what sums this pious prince expended, in placing children for education in colleges and nunneries, in portioning young women, endowing nuns, putting boys ap- prentices, or purchasing for them their freedom ;, m setting up unfortunate tradesmen in business again, and preventing the ruin of others ; in re- storing and supporting noblemen's families ; in relieving the sick, and paying surgeons for their attendance on them. Very often accompanied by a single servant, he soui^ht after poor persons, in chambers and garrets, and kindly administered to their wants. He made great improvements m physic, agriculture, arts, and manufactures. He pur- chased, 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 experience^
LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 261
that sublunary grandeur and sublunary pleasure, are delusive and vain ; and are always infinitely below the conceptions we form of them: but, on the contrary, such happiness, and such compla ccnce, 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 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 ; and he im- plored, with the utmost earnestness, the Divine blessing for his son, the duke of Chatres. " 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 service- able 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 spirits and bless- ed angels enjoy."
Thus died this truly Christian prince, in the forty-ninth year of his age.
SECTION II.
SOAME JENYNS.
SoAME Jenyns was born in London, in the year 1704. He was carefully educated in his fa- ther's house, till he went to the university of Cambridge, where he studied very diligently for several years. In 1741, he represented Cambridge in parliament ; where he continued to sit, chiefly for that place, but twice for others, till 1780. In 1755, he was appointed one of the lords of trade; which office he held, during every change of administration, till it was abolished 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 Internal Evidences of the Chris- tian Religion," abounds with just and important observations. It was written under a full convic- tion 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 be- lief, that his " View of the Internal Evidences,"
ono
SOAME JENYKS. 263
liad 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 of its divine efficacy, that ihey 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 prepa- ring us for the kingdom of heaven. Of these, the chief are, poorness of spirit, forgiveness of inju- ries, and charity to all men : to these, we may add repentance, faith, self-abasement, and a de- tachment from the world ; all moral duties pecu- liar to this religion, and absolutely necessary to the attainment of its end.
*' * Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' By which poorness of
264 80AME JENYNS.
spirit, is to be understood, a disposition of mi id, meek, humble, submissive to power, void of am- bition, patient of injuries, and free from all resent- ment. This was so new, and so opposite to the ideas of all Pagan moralists, that they thought this temper of mind a criminal and contempiible meanness, which must induce men to sacrifice the glory of their country, and their own honour, to a shameful pusillanimity : and such it appears to almost all who arc called Christians, even at this day ; who not only reject it in practice, but disa- vow it in principle, notwithstanding this expli- cit declaration of their Master. We see them levenging the sm.allest affronts by premeditated murder, as individuals, on principles of honour ,' and, in their national capacities, destroying each other with fire and sword, for the low con siderations of commercial interests, the balance of rival powers, or *he ambition of princes : we see them, with th&«'- '^st breath, animating each other to a savage reven«i ; and, in the agonies of death, plunging, 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 I and even sanctified in pulpits ! But universal practice cannot alter the nature of things, nor universal error change the ]&atiire of truth. Pride was not made for man ', Wt humility, meekness, and resignation^ that is-.
SOAME JENYNS. 265
poorness of spirit, was made for man, and properly belongs to his dependant and precarious situation ; and is the only disposition of mind, which can enable him to enjoy ease and quiet here, and hap- piness liereafter. Yet was this important precept cnlirely unknown, until it was promulgated by him who said : ' Suffer httle children to come unto me. and forbid them not ; for of such is the kingdom nf heaven : verily I say mito 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 ex- cellent, is, forgiveness of injuries. ' Ye have heard,' says Christ to his disciples, ' Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy : but T 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 per- secute you.' — This was a lesson, so new, and so utterly unknown, till taught by his doctrines, and enforced by his example, that the wisest moralists of the wisest nations and ages, represented the desire of revenge as a mark of a noble mind, and the accomplishment of it as one of the chief felici- ties attendant on a fortunate man. But how much more matrnanimous, how much more beneficial to mankind, is forgiveness ! It is more magnanimous, because every generous and exalted disposition of the human mind is requisite to the practice of it
23
266 SOAilE JENYNS.
for these alone can enable us to bear the wtong? and insults of wickedness and folly with patience, 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 ; and to know, that to overcome 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 retalia* lions ; for every retaliation becomes a new injury, and requires another act of revenge for satisfac- tion. But would we observe this salutary precept, * to love our enemies, and to do good to those who despitefully use us,' this obstinate benevo- lence would at last conquer 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 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 un- practised, 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 happiness of the next.
" Repentance is another new moral duty stren- uously insisted on by this rehgion. But no
SOAML JENYNS. 267
repentance can remove our depravity, unless it be such as entirely changes the nature and dispo- sition of the offender ; which, in the language 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 corrupted by a long continuance in vicious habits, than it can restore health to a body distempered by a long course of vice and intem- perance. 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 presen;. condition. If he feels in himself a temper proud, turbulent, vindictive, and malevolent, and a vio- lent 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 conduct 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 ;
268 SOAME JENYjrS.
and it is always a direct contrast to pride, ol)sti nacy, and self-conceit.
" Self-abasement is another moral duty inculcated b)' 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 noliu'ng good by our own powers, unless assisted by Ids over-rvding influence. This doctrine seems, at first siglit, to infringe on our free-will, and to deprive us of all merit; but, on a closer examina- tion, the 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 nnich luunility, resignation, and dependance on God, that it justly claims a place amongst the most illustrious moral virtues.
*' Detachment from the world is another moral virtue constituted by this religion alone ; so new that, even at this day, few of its professors can be persuaded that it is required, or that it is any virtue at all. By tliis detachment from the wor'J, is not to be understood a scclurion from society, abstraction from all business, or retirement to a gloomy cloister. Industry and labour, cheerfulness and Iiospitality, are frequently recommended ; nor is the acquisition of wealth and honours prohibited, if they can be obtained by honest means, and a
SOAME JENYNS. 269
oiodeT^te degree of attention and care : but sucli an unremitted anxiety, and perpetual application, as engross our whole time and thoughts, are for- bidden ; because they are incompatible with the spirit of this religion, and must utterly disqualify us for the attainment of its great end. We toil on in the vain pursuits 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 with- out a previous detachment from the business of this world, we cannot be prepared for the happi- ness of another. — Yet this could make no part of the morality of Pagans, because their virtues were altogether connected with this business, and con- sisted chiefly in conducting it with honour to themselves, and benefit to the public. Christianity has a nobler object in view, w^hich, if not attended to, must be lost for ever. This object is that celestial 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 travellers, pro- vifled tliey detain us not too long, nor lead us out ^f our way.
" Another precept, first noticed and first enjoined by this institution, is, charity to all men. What this is, we may best learn from the admirable de-
23*
270 80AME JENYNS.
scription, contained in the following words ! * Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity cnvieth not; charity vaunteth not itself; is not puffed up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ; seeketh not her own ; is not easily provoked * thinkelh 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 constellation of all virtues ; which consists not, as many imagine, in the building of monas- teries, endowment of hospitals, or the distribution of alms ; but in such an amiable disposition of mind, as exercises itself every hour in acts of kindness, patience, complacence, and benevo- lence to all around us ; and which alone is able to promote happiness in the present life, or ren der 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 characterietic 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 qualities
SOAME JENYNS. 271
which are there attributed to it ; humility, patience, meekness, and beneficence : without which we must Hve in perpetual discord, and consequently cannot pay obedience to this com- mandment of loving one another : a command- ment so sublime, so rational, and so beneficial, so wisely calculated to correct the depravity, 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 ; as well as from all those injuries, to which we are perpetually exposed, from the indulgence of the same passions in others. It would also preserve 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."
SECTION III. LORD LYTTELTON.
George Lyttelton, the son of Sir Tliomas Lytlelton, of Hagley, 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 liis school- fellows. At the university of Oxford, where his education was completed, he pursued his classical studies with uncommon avidity and success ; and retained the same reputation 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 entertained doubts of the truth of Christianity ; but, about the 38th 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 conviction. He found that religion was true, and what he had learned he endeavoured to teach, by " Observations on the Conversion of St. Paul ;"
272
LORD LYTTELTON. 273
a treatise to which infidehty has never been able to fabricate a specious answer. This book, his father had the happiness of seeing, and expressed his pleas- ure, in a letter which deserves to be inserted : —
"I have read your religious treatise with in finite pleasure and satisfaction. The style is fine and clear, the arguments close, cogent, and irre- sistible. May 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 eyewitness of that happiness, which I do not doubt he will bountifully bestow upon you ! In the meantime, 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 64th year of his age, which soon proved mortal. Of his death, a very affect- ing 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
274 LORD LYTTELTON.
lordship believed himself to be a dying man. From this time he suffered by restlessness, 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 approaching dissolution not to be lingering, he waited for it with resignation. He said, ' It is a folly, a keep- ing 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 con- versation with me, in order to divert it. He then proceeded to open the fountain of that heart, from whence goodness had so long flowed, as from a copious spring. ' When I first set out m the world,' said he, ' I had friends who endeav- oured to shake my belief in the Christian reli- gion. I saw difficulties which staggered me ; but I kept my mind open to conviction. The evi- dences and doctrines of Christianity, studied with attention, made me a most firm and persuaded believer of the Christian religion. I have made it
LORD LYTTELTOIN' 275
the rule of my life, and it is the ground of my future hopes. I have erred and sinned ; but have repented, and never indulged any vicious habit. In politics, and public life, I have made public good the rule of my conduct. I never gave coun- sels which I did not at the time think best. I have seen that I was sometimes in the wrong, but I did not err designedly. I have endeavoured, in private life, to do all the good in my power ; and never for a moment could indulge malicious or un- just designs upon any person whatsoever.'
" At another time he said : * I must leave my sou) in the same state it was in before my illness ; I find this a very inconvenient 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 bene- diction, and said : ' Be good, be virtuous, my lord ; you must come to this.' Thus he continued giv- ing 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 imcasiness, till Tuesday morning, August 22, (1773,) when, between seven and eight o'clock, he expired almost without a groan."
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 fortune, his powers of bod}^ and mind, to the service of his fellow-creatures. To*improve the morals of the poor, to alleviate their distresses, 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 reve- rence for the Divine Being, the love of human kind was the strongest feeling of his breast ; and that, when he had engaged in any office of general be- nevolence, no obstacles, but those which were insu- perable, could discourage his active perseverance.
As he well knew how much the happiness of the poorer classes of mankind depends on frugal- ity and habitual industry, he studied to promote amongst them virtues so necessary to their con- dition. It gave him a very sensible pleasure, when any of the numerous objects of his charity, who came to pay him their respects, were cleanly and neatly dressed, and appeared with cheerful
276
JONAS HANWAY. 1277
s,Tid contented conntenanccs. He treated tliem with respect and attention; entered into their con- cerns with paternal affection ; and let them know thai., on any real emergency, they might with coih- fidencc apply to him. It was this, rather than the largeness of his gifts, that endeared him so much to the people. He never walked ont, but he was followed by the good wishes, silent or expressed, of some to whom he had afforded relief. To meet the grateud eyes of persons whom he had served, was to him a high enjoyment; and no one partobk of it oftener.
This benevolent and pious man, through tltd wdiole covn-sc of his life, remembered that he was an accountable being. He examined his ow'n con- duct, with the same degree of severity which men too often adopt in their scrutiny into the conduct of others ; and considered that ihe 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 Han way seemed to derive a solemn pleasure from indulging the idea. To excite the frequent recollection of his condi- tion and end, he caused to be inscribed on a plate of brass the followinir lines, which seemed to have been designed as his epitaph, and which he often
seriously reviewed : —
S4
278 JONAS HANWAY^
"T 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 5
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 hi&
Fellow-creatures.
Reader, Inquire no further:
The Lord have mercy on his soul and thme i
Apprehensive of the too partial regard of his friends^ and esteeming plain trulli above the proudest trophies oi monumental lialtery ; at the age of fifty-one, he caused «bis plate and inscription to be made-"
JONAS HANWAY. 279
In the summer of 1786, his health sensibly de- clined ; and he perceived that he was verging to- wards that state, which he had often contemplated with solemn complacence. 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 reserve, of his disorder : and when he was convinced 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 concerning his af- fairs with tranquillity, and even with cheerfulness. To his surgeon, who attended him with unceasing anxiety, he said : " If you think it will be of ser- vice in your practice, or to any one who may come after mc, I beg you will have my body opened : I am willing to do as much good as possible."
' He exnressed his satisfaction, that his mind had never wandered or been perplexed, in any part of his illness. In the morning previous to his death, he said to an intimate friend : " I have no uncom- fortable reflections concernmg my approaching ^\\^ ; 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 put a period to a long and valuable life, spent in prcmo- ting the glory of God, and the good of mankind.
280 JONAS HANWAY.
The following stanzas are worthy of a place m lh'=' character of this truly pious and benevolent iran:-'-
And thou, blest Hanway ! long thy country's prayer, Exulting now in kindred worlds above,
Coheir of Howard ! deign the muse to hear. Though angels greet thee with a brother's love.
Far though removed from this diminish'd earth,
A crown of glory beaming on thy brow, The God who fixed it there — to note thy worth, Bids the rapt lyre with all thy spirit glow.
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 places Though deep in every bosom is portrayed,
Those grateful records time shall ne'er erase.
The generous 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.
JONAS HANWAY. 281
Near Hanway's bust the Magdalen shall kneel, A chasten'd votary of Compassion's dome j*
With pious awe the holiest ardours feel, And bless the founder of her peaceful home :
And O. Philanthropy! thy heav'n-rear'd fanet Shall oft avow the good man's zeal divine,
When bounty leads a poor and orphan train
To clavp their little arms round Hanway's shrme
Transcendent energies of grace sublime,
Whose magic goodness work'd with double powr,
Cradled the outcast babe "who knew no crime, And bade the sinner turn, and blush no more.
Ah, full of honom's 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!
* The Magdalen House, t The Foundling Hospital. 24*
SECTION V.
ANTHONY BENEZET.
Anthony Benezet was born in France, in the year 1713. Tne perseciUion, on account of reli- gious opinions, which then existed in that country, induced his parents to leave France. After a resi dence 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 understandmg, ot great piety, humility, and self-denial, and of a very be nevolent disposition. Being desirous of spending his life in a manner the most useful to his fellow- creatures, he devoted himself to the education of youth. In this arduous, but truly honourable employment, he passed about forty years ; and acquitted himself very much to the satisfaction of parents and children. His great object was, to imbue the minds of his pupils with reverence for religion, and to train them up in a course of vir- tue. Pecuniary advantages were of small mo- ment 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 occu pation; and that he knew no other, whatever
282
ANTHONY BENE2ET. 283
might be its advantages, for which he would ex- change his employnnent, unless it were a commis- sion to preach and propagate, as a minister, the Gospel of Christ.
When the school established in Philadelpliia, *' for the inslruclion of black people and their offspring," was suspended, on account of the in- disposition of their teacher, he voluntarily surren- dered his own school to other competent persons, and undertook the education of those people, though, in a pecuniary respect, he lost con- siderably by the change. His humility, and his sympathy with that unhappy race of men, dis- posed him to think no condescensions degradingj by which he could be peculiarly useful to them : and he was greatly desirous, that they might be so improved in their minds, as to render the free- dom which they had lately recovered, a real bles- ' sing to themselves, and a benefit to the state.
He was a friend to the poor and distressed 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 ihat I must be about my Father's business V He was, as J^T. Rush observed, a man of a truly
284 ANTHONY BENEZET.
catholic spirit ^ one -who loved piety and A'irtne m others, wherever he tbund ihem ; and who re- spected all sincere worshippers of God, in what- ever manner that worship was performed.
Tlie miseries of the enslaved Africans, and the great injustice done to them, very deeply affected his compassionate heart. He published many tracts on the subject ; supported an extensive cor- respondence with persons m Europe and America^ who were likely to aid his benevolent views ; and exerted himself to tlie utmost, to ameliorate the cohdi't-ion of the negroes, and to procure the en- tire abolition of the trade. As he was one of the earliest r.dvocates of these injured men, and inde- fatigably pursued his objoct, we may fairly at- iTibute to his labours, with the Divine blessing upon them, a great part of that spirit of inquiry into their situation, and sympathy with their dis- tresses, which have spread over the world ; and which, we trust, will, ere long, destroy this system ©f inhumanity and injustice.
About a year before his decease, his health be- came much impaired ; but being of a lively dispo- sition, very temperate, and zealously concerned to occupy his talents to the las^t, he supported his school, till he was quite disabled from performing the duties of it. But his charity and beneficence continued with life. The last time he walked across
ANTHONY BENEZET. 285
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 num- ber of tracts, in sheets, on religious subjects, with directions for their being bound and dis- persed. 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 Cliristian composure of mind, resigned this mortal life, in the firm expectation of a happy immortality.
The loss of this beneficent man was deeply felt by his fellow- citizens ; and his funeral was attended by 1 great number of persons of all ranks, and of all religious professions ; and many hundreds of Negroes joined the procession. 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 George Washington with all his fame."
SECTION VI.
JAMES HERVEY.
James Hervey, an ingenious and pious clergy- man, and a very popular writer, was born at Hard ings tone, 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 ; and became, in 1736, curate to his father, then possessed of the living of Wcston-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 lo 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 Weston. Here he after- wards constantly resided, and diligently pursued his labours, both in his ministerial office, and in his study, as long as possible, under the disad- vantage of a weak constitution. He did not satisfy himself with preaching only on the Lord's day ; but, whilst his strength permitted him, held a regular lecture in the middle of the week,
28G
JAM£S HERVEV, 287
which was very well attended. He aisc diligently catechised the children of his parishioners, and was regular m his pastoral visits at their houses, till he was confined to his own, when he encour- aged til em to come to him, for his friendly and reli- gious 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 exem- plary patience.
In 1 746, he published his " Meditations among the Tombs," and " Reflections on a Flower Garden ;" and the following year appeared the " Contempla- tions on the Night and Starry Heavens ;" and "A Winter Piece." The sublime sentiments in these pieces, are conveyed in a flowing and elegant style. They have been much read ; and are eminently calculated to cherish pious and grateful emotions towards the God of nature, and the Source of every blessing. In 1775, he published his *' The- ron and Aspasio, or a Series of Letters and Dia- logues on the most Important Subjects." 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* his temper placid, disinterested, unaflectedly humble ; and in his transactions with others, he
1283 JAMES heutey.
was ever clieerful, punctual, just, arc! candid to persons of every denominalion. He sonvctimes met with very cross occurrences ; but lie ever rose above them : he was never known to be in a pas- sion. His humility rendered Iiim invulnerable. When he was misrepresented and calumiiiatcdy he used to sa}^ : " Our enemies are sometimes our best friends, and tell us useful truths ; and the.i we should amend our faults, and be thankful for such infomiation. If what they say be not true, and spoken from malice only, then such pci-sons are to be considered as diseased in tljcir minds, and -ought to be prayed for. They are to be pitied ; and I might as justly be angry with men who are diseased in their bodies." All this he spoke with humility, seriousness, and gi-eat sweetness of spir- it : for it was the language of his heart, and not »f affectation.
In actions of benevolence and charity, thouo-h he had some equals, it is certain that he had no superiors, as far as his means extended. He pre- ferred clothing the poor, and supplying them with necessaiy articles, on the best terms, to giving them money. " I am," said he " God'? 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 nseful,, he would give to a prudent housekeeper.
JAMES HERVEY. 289
distressed by sickness or misfortunes, five or more guineas at a time ; and he was, on all proper occa- sions, careful that it should not be known from whom the money came.
By his last will, he bequeathed the future prof- its of all his works, to benevolent uses ; except- ing his " Meditations," the copy of which he sold during his lifetime, and applied the sums arising from its sale and former impressions, amounting to about seven hundred pouT^ds, to the relief of the poor and distressed. He s?.id tliat this money Vv'as 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 at- tempts, he thought himself bound to relieve the distresses of his fellow-creatures, with the product of his labours.
The cultivation of real religion and holiness, m heart and life, which this good man strenu- ously recommended, induced some persons to charge him with holding tenets injurious to so- ciety, and calculated to make men melanchoh?-, and regardless of the lawful concerns of this world. But every charge of this nature, is abun- dantly refuted by his writings, and the whole tenour of his life ; and particularly by an ex- cellent and striking passage, in his " Contera
25
290 JAMES HERVEY.
plations on the Starry Heavens ;" from which the following lines are extracted : —
*' Some, I believe, are apt to imagine, that ihey 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 avarice ; 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 subsid- ing into gall. A person may be cheerful among liis friends, and yet joyful in God. He may taste the sweets of this 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 ; and expressed to his friends, during his indispoiltion, great regret that he had not
JAMES HERVEY. 291
embraced every opportunity aflbrded him, to advance the cause of his Redeemer. These expressions were made with much tenderness of spirit, and were accompanied with tears. But lest his sentiments and views? should be misinter- preted, 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 mc, and I long to be dismissed. But I wonder at the love of Christ, in doing so much for me ; and lament to think how little I have done for him."
On a particular occasion, when his physician was taking his leave, he obserA'ed to him, with great affection and sensibility, that as he had, 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 improve those years which remain, at a time of life when but few can remain for us !"
The last illness of this truly excellent man com- menced in the autumn of the year 1758; and, in a few months, made a great and affecting prog- ress. His strength became exhausted, his body extremel}'' emaciated, and his whole frame so
292 JAMES HERVEY.
sore, that he could scarcely bear to be touched, when it was necessary to move him. Yet, under all lliis calamity, he was ever praising God for liis mercies, and for enduing him with patience. — About three hours before liis death, he strongly and affectionately urged a friend of his who was present, to pay all due attention lo the c:ire of his everlasling concerns, as here there is no abiding place, no continuing city. He entreated liim not to be overcharcred with the cares of this life ; but to attend, amidst the multiplicity of his business, to t!ie ■' one thing needful." The physician observing the great difficulty and pain with wnich he spake, (for he was almost suffocated with phlegm and frequent vomitings,) and per- ceiving by })is pulse, that the pangs of death were coming on, desired that he would spare liimself. " 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 repeated 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 man- ner, on these words of the Apostle: "All things arc 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. How thankful am I for death, as it is the passage through which I go to the Lord
JAMES HERVET. 293
and Giver of eternal life ; and as it frees me from all the miyery 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, in his own good time, dismiss me from the body. These light afflictions are but for a moment, and then com.es an eternal weight of glory. O ! welcome, welcome death ! Thou mayest 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 ex- pressed great gratitude for his visits and atten- tions, 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 screniiy and sweetness of countenance, though the pangs of dealh were upon him, re- peated 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 ex- pressions, he yielded up his pious soul to God, without a sigh or struggle, in the forly-fiflh year of his age.
^*
SECTION VII. ALTAMONT;
OR, THE DEATH OF THE LIBERTINE.
The following account of an affecting mournful exit, and the reflections that accompany it, are solemn and impressive. We shall present them to the reader, in the words of Doctor Young, who was present at the melancholy scene : —
" Is not the death-bed of a profligate a prime school of wisdom ? Are we not obliged, when we ere invited to it ? for what else should reclaim us ? The pulpit ? We are prejudiced against itv Besides, an agonizing profligate, though silent, outpreaches 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.
" 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 un- armed hand, ever making idle pleasure his pur- suit; must pay for it his vast reversion: and on
294
ALTAMONT. 295
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 mountains overwhelmed, it will, one day, burst out like the fires of Etna ; visible, bright, md tormenting, as the most raging flame. This low (oh, my friend !) I shall too plainly prove.
" The sad evening before the death of the i^oble youth, whose last hours suggested these thoughts, I was with him. No one was present I ut his physician, and an intimate whom 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 srid, 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
296 ALTAMONT.
as sudden darts of pain would permit, till tlie clock struck : then with vehemence he exclaimed ; * Oh ! time! time! it is fit thou sliouldst ihus 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 ! 'tis lost ! — Heaven is to me the severest place of hell !'
" 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 affec- tionate look, he said, ' Keep those tears for thy- self. I have undone thee, — Dost thou weep for me ? that is cruel. What can pain me more V
" Here his friend, too much affected, would tiave left him. — * No, stay — thou still maysl liope ; therefore hear me. How madly have I talked ! 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
ALTAMONT. 297
reason; full mighty to suffer. And that which ihus Iriuiiiphs within the jaws of immortality, is, douhtless, immortal — And, as for a Deily, nothing less than an Almighty could inflict what I feel.
" I was about to congratulate this passive mvol- untary confessor, on his asserting the two prime articles of his creed, extorted by the rack of nature, when he thus very passionately 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 ; in scattered fragments of broken thought — Remorse for the past, throws my th ught 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 un- quenchable fire.'
" How were we struck ! yet, soon after, still more. With what an eye of distraction, what a face of despair, he cried out : ' My principles have poisoned my friend ! my extravagance has beg- gared my boy ! my unkindness has murdered my wife ! — And is there another hell ? Oh ! thou blasphemed, yet indulgent Lord God ! hell itself is a refuge, if it hide me from thy frown !' Soon after, his understanding failed. His terrified
29S altamokt.
imagination uttered horrors not to be repeated, or ever forgotten. And ere the sun (which, I hope, has seen few Hke him) arose, the gay, young, noble, ingenious, accompHshed, and most wretclied 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 mom.ent where are they ? Oblivion 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 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 gene- ration. With what capacity was he endowed ! 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 point, judging right in all else, but aggravates his folly : as it shows him WTong, though blessed with the best capacity of being right."
CHAPTER X.
Baron Haller John Howard Newton's Letters-
Margaret M. Althens Zimmerman James Hay
Beattie Elizabeth Smith Elizabeth Carter
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, m the year 1708. The accounts of his early dis- play of talents, are as extraordinary as almost any upon record. He chose the medical profession, in which he became very eminent. He was an anat- omist, a physiologist, and a botanist, of the first order. It is not too much to say of him, that he was one of the best informed men in Europe. He wrote and spoke, with 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 difficult to point but. any of the least note, which he had not perused,
299
300 BARON HALLER.
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 litera- ture, and his unblemished integrity and virtue, rendered him, in the highest degree, respectable among the learned of Europe ; and his friend- ship and correspondence were courted by the most celebrated men of his time. He was pro- fessor of medicine in the university of Gottingen. He filled successively the botanical, ch^nnical, and anatomical chairs ; and raised the reputation of the university to a very high pitch. There he resided near seventeen years ; 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, wdiich 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 exam-
Saeon haller. 801.
I'nntion of the sacred oracles, on the otlicr. The firsl, by piJfgiiig his soul, according to his own omphalic piirasc, of arrogance and pride, filled il vnVh true poverly of spirit. The second con- vhiced him that the divine revelation, conveyed J. I 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, witii humble gratitude and reverence.
There are hours of mental depression in humait 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 rnan kind. But he found other aids, which proved a Soverci^Tu remedy to all his fears and depressions The divine laws were to him a delightful subject of attention, and a joyful object of hope. His con fidence 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
26
302 BARON HALLEK,
to llic souls and the bodies of men. He eagerly seized the nunfiberless opportunities, which his profession as a physician gave him, of convincing those with whom he conversed, of the truth, and of converting them to the practice, of the Chris- tian rehgion. 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 unheeded by the vulgar eye, recalled to his mind the Deity. And when he recollected or heard that great name, he gave way, in whatever company or cir- cumstances he happened to be placed, to some pious ejaculations, with his eyes and hands lifted iip towards 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 recom- mended to liis peculiar tenderness 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 alaiTn her lender breast at the_ approach of death, of which it was some consola-
BARON HALLER. 803
tion to Ilim, tliat " he should not h've to be the moiirnfiil Avilness." To her he addressed, at ihf- ferent limes, but in a regular succession, a num- ber of letters, on the truths of the Christian Reli- gion. They were afterwards, by his permission, published for the benefit of the world at large. The work possesses great merit ; and is particu- larly 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 importance of religion ; his solicitude for his daughter's happiness ; and his strong confidence in the future rewards of piety and virtue : —
" Let us employ the time that is present : eter nity will be our reward, if we make a good use of it Let us always have before our eyes, the na ture and consequences of sin : let us remember that it will deprive us of the favour of God, and expose us to his displeasure. Reflect on the value of that life and immortality, which Christ has brought to light by the gospel. The enjoyments of this present short life, which are indeed bul puerile amusements, must disappear, when placed in competition with the greatness and durability of the glory which is to come
804 BARON HAlLER,
" By the mercy of God, we are restored from the lowest stale of abasement and dejection. We ure animated with the most comfortable promises. We now walk with confidence in that road, wiiich has been marked out for us with so much wisdom : and which so well corresponds with our new de- sires and abilities. 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 recompense of victory ; which victory he also helps us to gain. We may now rest satisfied with respect to our future condition, without per- plexing ourselves about the trials we shall have to undergo, and which are yet at a distance Let us be careful to employ to advantage the pres- ent hour. The means of salvation, the sacred writings, the precepts of our Saviour, are in our hands. We insensibly draw near to the desired harbour; the approaches of dissolution become less formidable, the nearer we advance to the happy mansions of eternity, where eiror and vice will be disaimed, and have no more powei over us.
" Receive, my daughter, these most important of all truths, from a father, who considers himself or the verge of life : they are the most precious marks of tenderness which he can give you. These instructions would have been less imperfect,
BARON HALLER, 305
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 now addresses you, has had his doubts ; he has sometimes been mistaken ; and has wished, in those moments, that the conse- quences of sin were not so grievous. He 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 objects of joy and hope, which invite me to leave this world, and to step forward into eternity ; into mansions of holiness and bliss, wdiere death shall be banished for ever, and where sin shall have no place. After having finished your course, you wiir, 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 lif( shall no longer draw tears
from our eyes."
26*
SECTION II.
JOHN HOWARD.
John Howard, the indefatigable friend of the. poor and unfortunate, was born at Hackney, in the year 1726. Of his character and pious labours, Dr. Aikin speaks in the following 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 distin- guished either by the extent of the good pro- duced, 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 pros ent misery among those unfortunate classes, and, at the same time, to have provided for the reform- ation of the vicious, and the prevention of fu- ture crimes and calamities ; to have been instru- mental in the actual establishment of many plans of humanity and utility, and to have laid the
306
JOHN BTOWARB. 30*f
foundation for much more improvement hereafter ; and to have done all this, as a private, unaided, in- dividual, struggling with toils, dangers, and diifi- cullics, which might have appalled the most reso- lute ; 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 jroulh ; and which continued steady and uniform through life. Though he seems early to have made up his mind, as to the doctrines he thought best founded, and the mode of worship he most approved, yet religion abstractly considered, as the relation be- tween man and his Maker, and the grand support of morality, appears to have been the principal object of his regard. This excellent principle enlarged his heart, and led him to commiserate the distresses of his fellow-creatures of every de- scription ; and at length prompted him to devote his life to the relief of suffering humanity.
Deeply impressed with a sense of the impor- t:ince of his designs, and of the uncertainty of hu- man life, he was desirous of doing as much as possible within the allotted limits. And the num- ber of prisons and hospitals which he visited, in a short period of time, is surprising. The pious and well-governed disposition by which he was
SOS JOHN HOWARDi
actuated, is forcibly expressed in the following passage extracted from one of his interesting pub- lications : —
"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 extending 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 me, I calmly and cheer- fully 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 con- duct be uncandidly imputed to rashness or en- thusiasm : but to a serious, deliberate conviction^ that I am pursuing the path of duty ; and to a sin- cere desire of being made an instrument of gi eater 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 En^r- land, when a friend expressed his concern at part- ing with him, from an apprcliension that lliey should never meet again, lie cheerfully replied : — ''We shall soon meet in heaven;" and, as he rather expected to die of the plague in Esvpl, he added : " The way to heaven from Grand Cairo, is as near as from London." He said he was per-
JOHN HOWARD. 309
feclly 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 me."
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 ; and is particularly 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 monu- ment, to his honour.
The following passages are selected from some of his letters on this subject : — " To hasten to the other very distressing affair ; oh, 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 omething may be done to stop it. My best friends inust disapprove the measure. It deranges and confounds all my schemes ; my exaltation is my fa.!, ny misfortune. — My best and most inti- mate .viends have, I see by the papers, been so kind as not to subscribe to what you so justly term
310 JOHN HOWARD.
a hasly measure. Indeed, if nothing now can be done — I speak from my heart — never poor crea- ture 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 determined 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. He was per fectly sensible, during his illness, except at short intervals, till within a very few hours before his death. He 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.
A celebrated orator* has passed so fine a eulo- gmm on the character of this excellent man, that we insert it with particular satisfaction : —
— " I cannot name this gentleman without re- marking, that his labours and writings have done
* Burke.
JOHN HOWARD. 311
much to open the eyes and hearts of mankind. He lias visited all Europe, — not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of tem])les ; not to make accurate measurements of the remains of ancient grandeur, 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 in- fection of hospitals; to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain ; to take the gauge and dimensions of misery, depression, and contempt ; to remember ihe forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and compare and collate the dis- tresses of all men in all countries. His plan is original : it is as full of genius as it is of humanity. It was a voyage of discovery ; a circumnavigation of charity. Already 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 reahzed in his own.'*
We shall conclude the account of this benevo- lent 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's distant walls. " Come, well-approved ! my faithful servant come! No more a wand'rer, seek thy destined home. Long have I marked thee, with o'erruling eye, And sent admiring angels from on high,
012 JOHN HOWARD.
To walk the paths of danger by thy side,
From death to shield thee, and through snares to guidff.
My minister of good, I've sped the way.
And shot through dungeon glooms a leading ray,
To cheer, by thee, with kind unhoped relief,
My creatures lost and whelmed in guilt and grief.
I've led thee, ardent, on through wond'ring climes.
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 xchere the high reward is giv'u,
Or whence the soul triumphant springs to heav'n,'*
Dr. Aikin has written a judicious and interesting account of John Howard, under the title of "A View of the Character of John Howard, Esq.," to which we refer the reader for farther in- formation, respecting this truly pious and worthy rnaUr
SECTION III.
NEWTON'S LETTERS.
The following interesting examples of the pow- er of religion, on the minds of persons in humble hfe, are extracted from a work entitled, " Cardi- phonia, 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 inca- pable of receiving this evidence ;) yet some of these truths are so mysterious, so utterly repug- nant to the judgment of depraved nature, that through the remaining 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 evidence, for the relief of the mind imder such assaults, than the testimony «f dying persons ;
— —
♦By John Newtox, Rector of St. Mary, Woolnoth, liOndon.
27 313
314 kewton's letters. /
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 articles of the Christian Faith.
*' Permit me, my lord, to relate, upon this oc- casion, some things which exceedingly struck me, m 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 lillle besides. Iler knowledge of the world was nearly confined to the parish ; for I suppose she was sel dom, if ever, twelve miles from home. She had known the Gospel about seven years before the Lord 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 bedside, I thanked the Lord, that he gave her now to see that she had not followed cun- ningly-devised fables. When I had finished, she repeated that expression : * No,' said she, * not cunningly-devised fables ; these are realities in- deed ; I feel their truth ; I feel their comfort. O, tell my friends, tell iny acquaintance, tell inqui- ring 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 Be-
Newton's letters, 315
loved, and my Friend ; and, as such, I commend him to them.'
" She then fixed her eyes steadfastly upon me, and proceeded, to the best .of my recollection, as follows : * Sir, you are highly favoured, in being called to preach the Gospel. I have often heard vou 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, and have death and eter- nity full in your view, will it be possible for 3^ou to conceive the vast weight and importance of the truths you declare. 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 : * I feel that my hope is fixed upon the Rock of Ages : 1 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
816 Newton's letters,
beer, pleased to make her acquainted alternately ■\vilii great temptations, and proportionably grcal discoveries of his love and truth : sometimes, when her lieart is enlarged, I listen to her with astonish ment. I think no books or ministers I ever met with, Iiave given me such an impression and under- standing of what the Apostle styles, Mhe 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, wis- dom, 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 animated. Almost the last words she uttered were : ' The Lord is my portion, saith my soul.'
" My attendance upon the sick is not always equally comfortable ; but could I learn aright, it might be equally instructive. Some confirm to me the preciousness of a Saviour, by the cheerful- ness 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 thero
If ETV ton's letters. 317
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 !'
" Through the Lord's goodness, several whom I have visited in these circumstances, have afforded me a comfortable hope. I have seen a marvel- lous and blessed change take place, in a few days, .'n their language, views, and temper. I now visit a young person, who is cut short in her nineteenth year, by a consumption, and who I think cannot live many days. I found her very ignorant and insensible, 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 de- sires ; and I cannot but think the Lord is teaching her, and will reveal himself to her before she departs.
** But the scene is sometimes different. I saw a vounfy woman die the last week. I had been often with her ; but the night she was removed, she could only sa}^ * O, I cannot live ! I cannot Hve !' She repealed this mournful complaint as long as she could speak : for, as the vital powers were more oppressed, her voice changed into groans ; her groans grew fainter and fainter ; and in about a
27*
313 newton'^s letters.
quarter of an hour after she had done speaking, she expired. Poor creature ! said I to myself, as I stood by her bedside, if you were a dutchess, 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 as- sume 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 declaration will be seen and felt, and acknowledged : * One thing is needful.' And we shall be ready to apply Grotius's dying confession to a great part of our lives : ' Ah ! I have consumed 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 sta- tions 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 knowledge are, indeed, orna- ments 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 dan-
Newton's letters. 319
gcrs, temptations, and inquietudes, or, that the Father of Spirits, who is just and equal in all his ways, regards their possessors with distinguislied marks of his favour. The wisdom of Providence, to promote order and government in the earth, has, indeed, ordained a diversity of talents and conditions amongst men ; but he has also gra- ciously declared, that to the religious and faith- ful improvement, even of the fewest talents, shall be annexed the highest reward that Ccin be con- ferred upon us ; namely, that of " Well done, good and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." An humble and teachable disposition, a pious, upright, and benevolent temper of mind, are incomparably of greater worth, than all the accom- plishments 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 as to real honour and happiness.
SECTION IV,
MARGARET M. ALTHENS.
Margaret M. Althens, a person of great piety and virtue, was born in the year 1752. It appears that, from early life, she was favoured with impressions of a religious nature ; and that the awful thoughts of heaven, hell, death, and eternity, engrossed much of her attention. Her father died when she was two and a half years old. Her mother being a German, she was educated in the language of that country, as well as in her native tongue ; and in the fifteenth ^^ear of her age, she was confirmed in the German chapel by Dr. Wachscll. " I must acknowledge,*' says she, " that he spared no pains to instruct me :n the great prin- ciples of religion. But the endeavour of man cannot reach the heart, unless influenced by the Spirit and power of God. Though I was confirm- ed, and admitted a member of the congregation, I knew no more what a change of heart meant, or an experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ, than one who had never heard of him."
After this period, she appears, by her Memoirs, to have experienced great trials, temptations, and
S20
MARGARET M. ALTHENS, 321
mental distress. She became so deeply alTected with tlie sense of her condition, that her lieart was filled with despair. Bat it pleased the God of love and mercy io regard her with compassion, and to visit and strengtlien her mind, by the gracious operations of his Holy Spirit. She was gradually enlightened, and enlarged in her religious views ; and, at length, obtained an establishment in the paths of piety and virtue ; and experienced a most consoling persuasion, that her heavenly Father would never forsake her.
The subject of this article, who possessed a cul- tivated mind, was brought up with pleasing ex- . pectations : but she participated in some of those vicissitudes which are so common in human life. For about seven 3-ears before her marriage, which took place in 1784, she lived in the capacit}'- of a servant. This humble situation w^as, however, so sweetened and sanctified to her by the blessing of God, that, in several parts of her Diary, she ex- presses great thankfulness to him, for those dis- pensations of his providence, which though pain- ful at the time, were necessary to her spiiitual im- provement. She was thereby secluded from many temptations and snares, which she apprehended might otherwise have retarded her progress in the Christian life. Her state of dependance was, with- out doubt, less burdensome to her, because her trust was in the Lord whom she served.
322 MARGARET M. ALTHENS.
The character of this excellent woman, who appears to have been happy in her marriage, is strongly portrayed, in two letters which she wrote to her husband, and which appear to have been intended for his perusal, after her decease. We presume they will be acceptable to the reader. They contain great piety, great resignation, and a Iriunlphant faith in the mercy and acceptance of her God and Redeemer. They exhibit a lively and animating example of true conjugal affection ; and Christian desires for the best interests of a beloved partner, mingled with the joyful prospect of a blessed leunion of their spirits, in the man- sions of eternal peace.
LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, NO. I.
My most dearly beloved !
I frequently hear of the death of one and an- other in child-bed, which fills my mind with appre- hensions ; for what am I better than they, that I should expect more favour from the Lord ?
The sun of prosperity has shone upon mo for five years, and I have been blessed with one of the best of husbands ; which makes the thought of the parting stroke most sensibly painful to me If it were not for the great realities of religion, I could not give up the beloved of my heart. All the powers of my soul are at work, when I think what your feelings will be, in the trying hour of
MARGARET M. ALTHEN3. 323
separation. But, my dearest, grieve not as with- out hope. When a few years more have finished their course, I trust, tlirough the merits of the great Redeemer, that we shall have a happy meet- ing in our heavenly Father's house. Then, part- ing, sighs, and tears, shall be no more. Then, I humbly hope, we shall be for ever united, in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb.
The Almighty, who by a chain of providences brought us together, and only lent me to you for a short space, has an undoubted right to recall me when he pleases. Very pleasant hast thou been to me in life, and in death we shall not be divided. You will shed a tear to my memory, when you reflect on the many, yea, I may say, very many, happy liours we have spent, and the endearing conversation we have had together. But the sub- ject is too delicate ; I must not dwell on it. Those seasons are now past. They are vanished, like the morning cloud, or early dew. Nothing now presents itself to me, but sorrow, anguish, weepmg friends, the gloomy appendages of death, and an opening grave.
This is a dreary ]i;rospect ; but, blessed be God, here it ends. Beyond the grave, the scenes are bright and happy. My reconciled God in Christ Jesus, will receive me, place a crown of glory upon my head, and fix my abode for ever
324 MARGARET M. ALTHENS.
among the sons of light. Angels wait their com" Diission to conduct me to the New Jerusaicm above ; when, with a golden harp, and a palm of victory, 1 shall shine a monument of mercy.
There shall I wait the happy period of yonr ar- rival. Let this consideration restrain your tears : your sincerely affectionate wife is not dead, but sleepeth. You may commit my body to the ground, in sure and certain hope of a joyful resur- rection. When you are performing the last kind ofRces of affection, I shall be rejoicing before the throne of God, drinking of the rivers of pleasure that are at his right hand.
If I should leave a helpless infant, you will take care of it, and let it be brought up with the rest, m the nurture and admonition of the Lord. I am not solicitous to have my children great ; but it is my earnest wish and prayer, that they may be good. My beloved, press forward, a glorious prize awaits you. Be faithful unto death, and you shall obtain it. If you see me in my coffin, rejoice over me, and say : What was mortal the worms shall destroy ; but her soul, arrayed in the robe of the Redeemer's righteousness, lives, to die no more. Death is swallowed up in victory. We fall, we rise, we reign !
May the God of my youth, the protector of my
MARGARET M. ALTHENS. S25
advancing years, and the support of my now de- clining days, keep you under the shadow of his ahiiighty wings ! May he be your guard and guide through hfe, your comfort in the hour of dissoiution, and your portion and happiness through the ages of eternity !
Your affectionate wife, in Hfe and death,
M. M, A,
LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, NO. II.
My most dearly beloved !
When you are reading these lines, there will be nothing left of me but a cold lump of clay. I bless God for having heard and answered my prayer for, you know, I have often expressed a desire, that m}^ immortal spirit might take its flight before yours. Long may you live, for the sake of )'0ur dear family, to bring them up in tlie fear of the Lord ! Let me entreat you not to sorrow as one without hope ; for be assured that I am happy. I know ihat the enormous account of my sins is blotted out, by the precious blood of my crucified Redeemer ; who came into the world to call, not the righteous, but such sinners as I am, to repent- ance : and he has declared, that where he is. Ins people shall also be. So that I am only trans- planted from the church militant, into the church triumphant, to join with that general assembly, in praising the riches of redeeming grace and dying love.
28
326 MARGARET M. ALTHEN3.
I hope you have no doubt of the shicerity of my affection to you. Heaven is my witness, that your temporal and spiritual welfare, has been the sub- ject of my incessant prayers ; and, I trust, they will be answered, when I am sleeping in the dust. If the disembodied spirits may be favoured with the knowledge of things done below, and still in- terested in the concernments of their dear relatives, as I liave some reason to think they will ; — how gladly shall I accept the pleasing employ, of at- tending you as an invisible guardian angel, to warn you of dangers, and lend you aid in every season of distress ! My first care should be, to wipe the tears from your beloved cheek ; to sooth the wound my removal has made ; and to help you to triumph over your loss, with the fortitude and resignation becoming you, as a child of God.
Time is short. In a few revolving years, at most, your silver cord of life will be loosed, and your golden bowl broken. Then, when every earthly comfort shall fade, you will know the worth of redemption, by the sufferings and death of the Son of God. O, that when flesh and heart shall fail, you may find him your strength and por- tion ! If so, wnat a joyful meeting shall we have, to part no more ; in his presence, where there is fulness of joy, and where all tears shall be wiped away !
MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 327
I thank you for all the kindness you have shown to me, a most unworthy creature. You have in- deed been a tender and affectionate husband to me. In you, I have found a bosom friend ; and my cares have been reposed in your beloved breast. My earthly happiness has been too great. I acqui- esce. He who gave me life has a right to take it. I go to permanent happiness, without alloy, where sorrow can find no entrance.
And now, with all the solemn appendages of death in my view ; the gloomy grave, and an eternal world, into which I am about to enter ; J lift up my hands in supplication for you. May tiie blessings of the eternal Jehovah rest upon you ' May his presence be your light and your strength, to direct and support you, through all the changes of this mortal life ! And when you are bidding adieu to all in this world, may his almighty arm be your defence ; and may his heavenly messengers convey your departing spirit to the unsullied re- gions of eternal peace ! Adieu ! till we meet to part no more. The Lord bless you !
Your affectionate wife,
M. M. A.
In the last illness of this truly religious person, she was favoured with an entire trust in God, and with an earnest longing for that happy stale, \\'hich she believed was prepared for her. — At one
328 MARGARET M. ALTHENS.
time, she says in her Diary : " I hope I can adopt
the language of Dr. Young : —
" ' Or life, or death, is equal j neither weighs All weight in this — O ! let me live to thee.' "
At another time, she thus expresses herself: " I am stiJl under the care of a physician ; but he gives me no hope. Indeed it would be both cruel, and in vain to flatter me now ; for my own weak- ness informs me, that I am going apace. I bless my God, I can now say, Thy will be done. I can give up my dear husband and children, with every earthly connexion, into his hands. He will take care of them. My husband's trial is great. I feel more for him than for myself. But heaven will make amends for all. O, how I pant and thirst for the happy hour, when my father will send his angels to convey my spirit to rest !"
She obtained her long desired release from sni and sorrow, in the summer of the year 1789, and at the age of thirty-seven years, within a few days.
SECTION V. ZIMMERMAN.
The following tribute to the memory of a be loved daughter, was written by Doctor Zimmer- man ; and marks the piety of his own mind, as well as the influence of religion on the amiable subject of his sorrow : —
*' May I be permitted here to give a short ac- count 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 lier loss. Her sole pleasures 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 relied with perfect confidence on the good- ness of God, and listened attentively to the pre- cepts of a fond parent. Taught by my ex- perience, submitting to my judgment, she en- tertained for me the most ardent affection ; and 30'ivinced me, not by professions, but by actions, o( lier sincerity. Willingly \vould 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 endeavoura
28* 329
330 ZIMMERMAN.
for that purpose were most gratefully returned She gave many proofs of this kind and amiable temper: and I shall mention one, which, though small in itself, was peculiarly pleasing to me. She frequently presented me with a rose, which she knew was my favourite flower. I ever re- ceived it from her hand with delight, and pre- served 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 dispensation of Heaven. Her appetite was almost gone when we left Swisserland ; a residence which, though pecu- liarly endeared to her, she quitted with her usual sweetness of temper, and without discovering the smallest regret. Soon after our arrival at Han- over, she fell into a deep decline, which, at length, terminated in a hemorrhage of the lungs, of a very uncommon nature, that soon deprived me of the comfort of this beloved child. From the knowledge I had of her constitution, I appre- hended 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 observation. Although sensible of her danger, she never dis-
ZIMMERMAN. 331
coTered 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 sor- rows, the sharpest and most afflicting pains, she made no complaint. She mildly answered all my questions, by some short sentence, without entering into any detail. Her decay and im- pending dissolution became obvious to the eye; but to the last moment of her life, her counte- nance preserved a serenity correspondent to the pu- rity of her mind, and the tender emotions of her heart. Thus I beheld my dear, my only daugh- ter, 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 Hanover, 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, speedily to unite her soul with the Author of her being. The last words that my dear, my excellent child uttered, amidst the most painful agonies, were these : * To-day I shall taste tho joys of heaven!'"
SECTIOW VI.
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 176S. He died early in life at the age ot twenty-two ; but wisdom, not years, is the gray hair to man, and mispotted life is old age.
This young man possessed a fine genius, great rigour of understanding, and a very uncommon'* portion of learning and knowledge : but tlie recti tude 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 religion on his mind.
His father never had occasion to reprove him above three or four times, during the whole of his life : bodily chastisement he never experienced 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
332
JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 333
keep a secret; and it never appeared tliat in a single instance, lie transgressed eitlier. His whole behaviour, at school and college, was not only irreproachable, but exemplary. In the year 1787, the king, upon the recommendation of the uni- versity of Marischal college, was pleased to ap- point him assistant professor of moral philosophy and logic. 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, secu)-ed his authority as a teacher : and by his presence of mind, and ready recollection, he satisfied his audience that, though young, he was abundantly qualified to instruct them.
Piety and meekness were striking features in his character, habitual to him in infancy, and throudi life. The Christian relioion 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 in- quirer 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 singularity. The effect of religion upon his mind was, to make him cheerful, considerate, benevolent, intrepid, hum- ble, and ha)7py. He loved the whole human
334 JAMES HAY BEATTIE.
race ; he bore a particular love to Christians ; and he wished all parlies to exercise Christian charity towards each other. He wished to be, and to be con- sidered 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 improper thoughts into his mind ; for he knew that associa- tions of ideas, disapproved both by reason as in congruous, and by conscience as immoral, might in a moment be formed, in consequence of inad- vertence, even when there was no settled pro- pensity to evil. His attention was continually awake to learn, although from the slightest hint, or most trivial circumstance, 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 literature for the benefit of mankind ; and there is every reason co believe, that if his life had been lengthened, he would Jiave be^n eminently useful in the world. But it pleased Divine Providence to permit this promising youih to be rut down by disease, in the morning of life. Wh*»T. hij discsUe*
lAMES HAY BEATTIE. 835
had made great progress, and he saw death ap- proaching, he met it with his usual calmness and resignation. One evening, while he was expecting the physician, who had been sent for in the belief that he was just going to expire, he sweetly said ; *' How pleasant a medicine is Christianity!"
He sometimes endeavoured to reconcile his father's mind to the thought of parting with him ; but, 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 had done, of what he called my goodness to him, I begged him to drop that subject ; and was pro- ceeding to tell him, that I had never done any thing for him but what duty required, and incli- nation 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 I shall never forget it, I can describe in no other way than b} saying, that it seemed to have in it something more than human, and what I may not very im- properly perhaps call angelic. Seeing me agita- ted, he expressed concern for what he had done ; and said that whatever might be in his mind, ha
336 JAM0S HAY BEATTIB,.
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 liim 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 pub lished by his very worthy father, Dr. James Beatlie ; to which pubhcation the compiler refers the reader for further particulars. He will find it a well-written,, instructive, and most interesting detail of the sen- timents and conduct of this excellent young man.
We cannot better close this memoir, than by transcribing the pious and pathetic lines of hij? father, at the conclusion of that work : " I have lost the pleasantest, and, for the last four or five jT-ears of his short life, one of the most instructive companions, that ever man was delighted with. But, * the Lord gave ; the Lord hath taken away ' blessed be the nam.e 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 makes it im- possible for a Christian to doubt of his having en- tered upon the inheritance of a happy immortality."
SECTION vn.
ELIZABETH SMITH.
This amiable and excellent person was bom at Biu'nhall in the county of Durham, in the year 1776, at which place her parents then resided in affluent circumstances, though afterwards they ex- perienced a reverse of fortune. At a very early age, she discovered that love of reading, and that close application to whatever she engaged in, which marked her character through life. She was ac- customed, when only three years old, to leave an elder brother and younger sister to play and amuse themselves, whilst she eagerly seized on such books as a nursery library commonly affords, and made herself mistress of their contents. At four years of age, she read extremely well ; and, from the judicious account which her mother gives of her, it appears, that whatever she did was loell done, and with an apparent consideration far beyond her years.
As she grew up, she was remarkable for a thirst of knowledge, for regularity, and observation. Her person and manners were highly pleasing, and her disposition was mild and benevolent. She had a pensive softness of countenance, that indicated deep reflection : but her extreme timidity con-
29 337
333 ELIZABETH SMITH,
cealed, for a time, the very extraordinary talenlft which she possessed. She was instructed, and made great progress, in the accomplishnfients, which are usually taught to females in the polished circles of life. But she was eminently distinguished for a love of learning, a facility in acquiring languages, and a desire to improve her mind. With scarcely any assistance, she taught herself the French, Italian, Spanish, German, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages : and she had no inconsiderable knowledge of Arabic and Persic. She w^as well acquainted with geometry, algebra, and other branches of the mathematics.
"With all these acquirements," says her excel- lent biographer, " she was perfectly feminine in her disposition ; elegant, modest, gentle, and affec- tionate : nothing was neglected which a woman ought to know ; no duty was omitted, which her situation in life required her to perform. But the part of her character, on which," continues her biographer, " I dv^^ell with the greatest satisfaction, is that exalted piety, v*^hich seemed always to raise her above this world ; and taught her, at sixteen years of age, to resign its riches and its pleasures, almost without regret, and to support with dignity a very unexpected change of situation. — For some years before her death, the Holy Scripture was her principal study ; and she translated from the Hebrew the whole book of Job, &c., &c. The
ELIZABETH SMITH. 339
benefit which she herself derived from these studies, must be evident to those who witnessed the pa- tience and resignation with which she supported a long and painful illness, the sweet attention which she always showed to the feelings of her parents and friends, and the heavenly composure with which she looked forward to the awful change, which has now removed her to a world * where,' as one of her friends observes, ' her gentle, pure, and enlightened spirit, will find itself more at home, than in this land of shadows.' "
This pious and admirable young person, was not destined by Divine Providence to continue long on this stage of probation and conflict. In the summer of 1805, she caught a cold, which, though at first it seemed not to be of much conse- quence, gradually impaired her constitution ; so .that, in little more than a year from the com- mencement of the disorder, her valuable life was terminated. She finished her course in the thir- tieth year of her age.
After her death, there was found amongst her manuscripts, a number of reflections on a variety of important subjects, moral and religious. We shall select a few of these, and present them to the reader, as interesting specimens of the goodness both of her head and her heart : —
840 ELIZABETH SMITH.
*'"' Pleasure is a rose near which there ever grows the thorn of evil. It is wisdom's work so carefully to cull the rose, as to avoid the thorn, and let its rich perfume exhale to heaven in grate- ful adoration of Him who gave the rose to blow."
" The Christian life may be compared to a magnificent column, whose summit always points to heaven. Tlie innocent and therefore real plea sures of this world, are the ornaments on the pedestal ; very beautiful and highly to be enjoyed, when the eye is near; but which should not too long, or too frequently detain us from that just distance, where we can contemphue the whole column, and where the ornaments on its base dis- appear."
"How lisrht are all the troubles of this world, to those who value every thing it contains, ac- cording to its real worth ! They may appear in sensible, to those who reckon by a different standard ; but they can bear even this imputation, for they know the value of human applause. How hnppy should we be, if we could alwnys feel, as we sometimes think !
" No event which I thou2;ht unfortunate has ever happened to me, but I have been convinced, at some time or other, that it was not a misfortune, but a blessing. I can never then in reason com-
ELIZABETH SMITH. 341
plain of any thing that happens, because I am persuaded it is permitted for some good purpose*
" An hour well spent condemns a life. When we reflect on the sura of improvement and delight gained in that single hour, how do the multilude of hours already past, rise up and say, what good has marked us ? Would st thou know the true worth of time, employ one hour"
The following lines, contained in a little pocket- book, and written by her in the year 1798, when she had attained the age of twenly-one years, are peculiarly interesting. They indicate the deep sense which she had of the value and importance of religion : —
"Being now arrived at what is called years of discretion, and looking back on my past life with shame and confusion, when I recollect the many advantages I have had, and the bad use I have made of them, the hours I have squandered, and the opportunities of improvement I have neg- lected ; — when I imagine what, with those ad- vantages, I ought to be, and find myself what I am : — I am resolved to endeavour to be more care- ful, for the future, if the future be granted mc ; to try to make amends for past negligence, by em- ploying every moment I can command, to some
good purpose ; to endeavour to acquire all the
29*
342 ELIZABETH SMITH.
little knowledge that human nature is capable of on earth ; but to let the word of God be my chief study, and all others subservient to it ; to model m3^self as far as I am able, according to the Gospel of Christ ; to be content while my trial lasts, and when it is finished, to rejoice, trusting in the merits of my Redeemer. I have written these resolutions, to stand as a witness against me, in case I should be inclined to forget them, and to return to my former indolence and thoughtlessness, because 1 have found the inutility of mental determinations. May God grant me strength to keep them !"
These pious and holy resolutions, were, we pre sume, succeeded by great watchfulness against temptations, and by devout and earnest endeavours to secure the momentous and happy objects which she had in view. — Her trials and conflicts are all over ; and she is gone to receive, through Divine Grace, the reward of her virtues. But her example still remains ; and to those by whom it is duly contem- plated, it may prove a powerful incentive, to imi- tate her goodness, and to aspire after that future blessedness, which animated her hopes and ex- ertions.
ELIZABETH CARTEK.
Elizabeth Carter, a person highly o,. tirnable for her learning, talents, and virtues, was born at Deal, in the year 1717. Her father. Dr. Nicholas Carter, a clergyman in Kent, was a man of great learning, and of exemplary character. He gave all his children, daughters as well as sons, a learn- ed education. But the infancy and early youth of Elizabeth afforded no promise of the attainments which she afterwards acquired. Yet even then, it was her most eager desire to be a scholar, though nature seemed to forbid it. She gained the rudi- ments of knowledge with great labour and difficulty ; and her perseverance was put to a most severe trial. This ardent thirst after know- ledge, was, however, at length crowned with complete success ; and her acquirements became, even very early in life, such as are rarely met with. Her proficiency in languages was very extraordinary, for her age and sex. Besides Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, she became possessed of the French, Italian, Spanish, and German tongues ; the last three of which she attained without a master.
843
344 ELIZABETH CARTER.
Poetry was one of her early tastes ; and in 1738 she published a small collection of Poems, writte^i before she was twenty years of age. The sciences were not neglected by her. She paid great atten tion to astronomy; which she thought a roble study, and in which she made a very consid rablt progress. She gained such a knowledge of ' istory, both ancient and modern, as is rarely a quired ; and her taste for that engaging, as well iS useful branch of science, she never lost. Ye ,, amidst her various applications and employp cnts, she found time to work a great deal with her needle, not only for herself, but also fo) die family. She was not inattentive to domesli economy, and the occupations that belong to the female character.
"But among her studies, there was one whi<:h she never neglected ; one which was alwaj'-s dear to her, from her earliest infancy to the latest period of her life, and in which she made a conlinnal improvement. This was that of Religion, which was her constant care, and greatest delight. Her acquaintance with the Bible, some part of which she never failed to read every day, was as complete, as her belief in it was sincere. And no person ever endeavoured more, and few with greater success, to regulate the whole of their conduct by that unerring guide. — Her piety was indeed tlie very piety of the Gospel, shown not by enthu-
ELIZABETH CARTER. 345
siasm, or depreciating that of others, but by a calm, rational, and constant devotion, and the most unwearied attention to acquire the temper, and practice the duties of a Christian life. She never thanked God, like the proud Pharisee, that she was not like others : but rather, like the Publican, besought him' to be merciful to her a sinner.
*' She admired, and warmly felt, the beauties of vv^orks of genius and fancy ; but in her estima lion, the one thing needful^ duty to God and man, in its highest sense, superseded all the rest. Hence the works of art, and the beauties of nature, equally turned her thoughts in gratitude to Him, who has granted us faculties and senses capable of giving and receiving so much innocent pleasure."
This excellent woman had a heart finely adapted to friendship ; and she possessed many friends of distinguished character, who proved the instru- ments of much enjoyment to her. In particular, she formed an intimate connexion with the accom- plished Catherine Talbot, who was niece to the lord chancellor Talbot, and who possessed con siderable genius, and a most amiable disposition. This was an important event in the life of EHzabeth Carter. The intimacy of their friendship, the interesting nature of their correspondence, and the
846 ELIZABETH CARTER.
exalted piety of both, rendered this connexion the principal ingredient of their mutual happiness. Il procured also the friendship of Dr. Seeker, arch- bishop of Canterbury, with whom her beloved Catherine resided. Under these favourable circum- stances, she extended her knowledge of the world, cherished her profound learning, and exercised her pious views and sentiments. It was by the desire of this valued female friend, enforced by the bishop of Oxford that she undertook the work, by which her literary reputation has been most known abroad, and will be long remembered by scholars at home, her translation of Epictetus.
She was, for many years, happy in her union and intercourse with a woman so very dear to her : and when the time of their separation came, it was, as may be supposed, an event deeply affecting to her susceptible mind. From a letter which she wrote, on this melancholy occasion, we extract the following passages : " Never surely was there a more perfect pattern of evangelical goodness, deco- rated by all the ornaments of a highly improved understanding; and recommended by a sweetness of tem.per, and an elegance and politeness of manners of a peculiar and more engaging kind, than in any other character I ever knew. — Little, alas ! infinitely too little have I yet profited by the blessing of such an example. God grant that her memory, which I hope will ever survive in my
ELIZABETH CARTER,
347
heart, may produce a happier effect. Adieu, my dear friend. God bless you ; and conduct us both to that happy assembl^^ where the spirits of the just shall dread no future separation ! And may we both remember that awful truth, that we can hope to die the death of the righteous only by resembling their lives.'*
The subject of this memoir survived her lament- ed friend many years : and it appears that her lamp continued to burn brightly, till there was no fuel left to supply it.
" About nine years before her death, she re- turned from London at her usual time, much dis- ordered by a complaint which was supposed to be the Saint Anthony's Fire. In the course of the summer she was reduced by it to the lowest ex- tremity ; and was given over by her medical atten- dants, and by all her friends. She thought herself going, and was prepared for the important change. Though her strength failed, her spirits never flagged, and she spoke of her approaching depart- ure,''with the most pious hope and resignation, and even with cheerfulness. Her life, she said, had been a prosperous and happy one, and if it seemed fit to God she would be glad to live longer; if it was his pleasure to take her, she war ready and willing to depart ; and trusted to his mercies, through Christ, for the forgive-
348 ELIZABETH CARTER.
ness of her sins. It pleased God, however, that she should return from the very verge of the grave ; but her recovery was slow, and incomplete at best ; and she never recovered her former strength."
At length, the period approached, when this distinguished person was to take her final leave of all transitory objects. Her strength gradually wasted ; and to most of her friends it was evident, that she was journeying slowly., but surely, towards the house appointed for all living. Yet " her piety was as fervent, her temper as mild, and her wishes for those she loved as warm, as in the time of her strong health." She retained her senses till within a few hours of her decease : which took place in the winter of the year 1806, and in the 89th year of her age.
A few extracts from the writings of this truly valuable woman, will further evince the excellence of her religious principles ; the piety and devotion of her mind : and her entire resignation to the will of her heavenly Father.
THOUGHTS ON THE PRESENT STATE OP AFFAIRS, 1752.
The last winter has been a calamitous one to several nations, and alarming to our own ; and
ELIZABETH tJARTER. S49
llie summer prospect is clouded with impending dangers. What melliod can I tnke to avoid the tlireatened evil, or to quiet my fears ? Can I fly into some distant country, and endeavour to secure myself there? M}^ connexions and attachments render this an impracticable scheme. Shall I depend for protection on the assist- ance of my friends ? They are helpless and defenceless as myself. Is there then no refuge left ? Yes ; a reliance on Him, in whose hand are the issues of life and deatli, and the disposal of all events.
And have 1 then been careful to secure an interest in this Almighiy Protector, this unfailing friend^ Dare I, with humble hope and confidence, look up for aid and support to that God, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity ? This is an awful and important inquiry, and merits my most serious attention. Let me examine niy own heart. Of atrocious crimes perhaps it fully acquits me : but lo these have I any temptation ? In avoiding them, how little have I to boast! But are there not faults of a less observable nature, and often much too sligluly overlooked, for which in my situation, I am strictly accountable ? V)y the gra- cious dispensation of Providence, I am a Christian : have I dul}^ ct)nsidered what this sacred character imports? what a strictness of behaviour my pro- fession requires ? Is religion, and a perpetual
m
350 ELIZABETH CARTEK.
Ticw to the solemn account which I mnst one day render, the governing principle of my life ? Does it, as far as mortal frailty will permit, influence my whole conduct, my actions, my dis- courses, and accompany me even in my diveraiona and amusements ?
In this season of public danger, let me consider in what particulars I am faulty ; and sincerely en- deavour, by the divine assistance, to correct what I discover to be wrong.
Fear, when it terminates in itself, is a painful and contemptible passion : but, properly applied, may be sanctified to a noble use. That use our blessed Saviour has pointed out to me. If the fear of God influences me to correct whatever would tend to deprive me of his favour and protection, what else shall I have to fear? Whatever be the event of the present alarming dangers, to me, if I do not forfeit my hope in the Divine Goodness, it will certainly be happy. Though the earth trembler beneath my feet, my soul will be immoveably fixed on the Rock of Ages ; and when the sword hangs over my head, I shall acquaint myself iviih God, and he at peace.
ELIZABETH CARTER.- 351
EXTRACT FROM A LETTER TO-. .
To consider the Gospel merely as a subject of speculation, \Yliicli we are at liberty to examine, or lei alone, just as our other avocations will allow, is not having such a sense of its awful importance, as gives room to expect any satisfaction from the in* quiry. To examine it more diligently, and more in earnest, yet entirely with a confidence in our own understanding, is not having a proper sense of human weakness. Religion is a most solemn transaction between God and the soul, founded on every relation in which we stand to him ; and it is only by keeping up a perpetual intercourse with him, and by an endeavour to form not only our outward behaviour, but the whole internal L-ame of our mind, with a reference to his appro- bation, that we can become sufficiently divested of all wrong tendencies, to be duly qualified to judge of the truth of any revelation proposed in liis name.
Those who sincerely w^ish to make his will the first object of their choice, who submit their under- standing to his direction, and implore and depend on his assistance to guard them from error, his goodness w^ill never sufifer to be fatally misled : and tliey will enter on their inquiry, with a full security of obtaining every degree of conviction which is necessary to their virtue and their peace. So true I believe is the position that conviction
35U ELIZABETH CARTER*
depends on the heart, that I think you will not, m the wliolc circle of your observation, find a single instance of a person whose heart was disposed in the manner which I have described, who ever continued an unbeliever.
ON THE OCCASION OF MAKING HER WILL.
In the solemn act of making one's last w*ilL some- thing surely ought to be added to the mere forms of law. Upon this occasion, which is a kind of taking leave of the world, I acknowledge, with gratitude and thanksgiving, how much I owe to the Divine Goodness, for a life distinguished by in- numerable and unmerited blessinn;s.
Next to God, the supreme and original authof of all happiness, 1 desire to express my thank- fidncss to those whom he has made the instrumcnls of conveying liis benefits to me. Most particularly I am indebted to my father, for his kindness and indulgence to me, in every instance, and especially in the uncommon care and pains he has taken in my education ; v;hicli has been the source of such a variety of reasonable pleasures, as well as of very great advantages in my conversation with the world. I likewise very heartily thank my mother,* my brothers and sisters, for all the instance;, of
-*■ . ■- ..,■■■. — - ,. . . _ - , ■ ■ ■■ , . ,— ,■
• Her mother-in-law, who was then living.
ELIZABETH CARTER. 353
kindness and affection, by which they have con- tributed to the comfort of my hfe. If, in this disposition of my affairs, I appear to have made any distinction, I entreat them to beheve, that not any difference in my own good-will to ihem, but a regard to their different circumstances, has been the real motive of it.
Besides my own family, there are very many others, to whom I have been obliged, for very considerable advantages, in the assistance and pleasures of friendship. Of these I retain a most affectionate and grateful memory ; and desire all my inticnate friends to consider themselves as included in my sincere acknowledgments.
And now, O gracious God, whether it be thy W'ill to remove me speedily from the world, or to allot me a longer time in it, on Thee alone I depend for happiness both here and hereafter. I acknowledge my own unworthiness, and that all my claim to tliy favour is founded on thy infi- nite goodness in the merciful dispensation of the Gospel. I implore the pardon of all my sins, and humbly hope for those pleasures which are at thy right-hand for evermore, in and through Him by whom all thy blessings are conveyed, my blessed Lord, Redeemer, and only Saviour, Jpsus Christ. Elizabeth Carter.
February 9, 1759.
30*
351 ELIZABETH CAKFER.
A MORNING PRAYER.
O God, my merciful Father, I liiimhly thank Thee for preserving me in safety the past night, for refreshing me with quiet sleep, and raising me in heahh and peace, to the enjoym.ent of a v/orld which Thou hast made so beautiful, and in which Thou hast allotted me such innumerable mercies. I bless Thee for all the comforts of my life ; for health and plenty, good parents, kind relations, and kind friends ; I beg of Thee to bless and reward them, and to make me dutiful and grateful to them.
Under a sense of my own weakness, I beg the assistance of thy Holy Spirit, to enable me to resist the dangerous tcmptationsj and bad exam- ples of the world, the wrong dispositions of my own heart and temper, and the snares of Satan. I humbly beseech Thee to take my unexperienced youth under thy protection. Keep me, 0 Lord, from presumption and vanity : from idle dissipa- tion, and extravagant expenses. Impress on. my soul a constant regard to that awful account of all my thoughts, words, and actions, which I must give to Thee, at the dreadful day of judg- ment. Grant me a firm persuasion, that all my peace of mind here, and my happiness hereafter, must depend on my improvement in piety and
ELIZABETH CARTER. 55B
in tlie duties of a Christian life. Teach me to rely with perfect dependance upon Thee, who alone knowest what is truly good for me ; and dispose me to cheerful contentment, in ^vhateve^ condition Thou seest fit to place me.
I beseech Thee to guard me this day from all danger, particularly from the greatest of all evils, the doing any thing displeasing to Thee. I humbly offer up all my petitions in the name, and through the intercession, of my blessed Saviour, who has taught m«, when I pray, to say. Our Father, &c.
We shall close the memoir of this pious and distinguished female, with an honourable testimony to her talents and character, as well as to those of Elizabeth Smith, selected from one of the publications of the celebrated Hannah More : —
" Against learning, against talents of any kind, nothing can steady the head, unless you fortify the heart with real Christianity. In raising the moral edifice, we must sink deep in proportion as we build high. We must widen the foundation, if we extend the superstructure. Eeligion alone can counteract the aspirings of
S56 ELIZABETH CARTEH-
genius, can regulate the pride of talents. An'T yet such women as are disposed lo be vain of ihcir comparatively petty attainments, look up wiiU admiration to those contemporary shining exam- ples, the venerable EHzabeth Carter, and the bloom- ing Elizabeth Smith. I knew them both ; and to know, was to revere them. In them let our young ladies contemplate profound and various learning, chastised by true Christian humility. In them, let them venerate acquirements, which would have been distinguislied in a univcrsil}'-, meekly softened, and beaulihdly shaded, by the gentle exertion of every domestic virtue ; the unafi'ccted exercise of every fcmumie em- ployment."
SECTION IX. SIR WILLIAM JONES.
Sir William Jones, an eminent lawyer, and most accomplished scholar, was born in London, :ii the year 1746. He 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 re- plying''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.
He was not one of those happy geniuses, (if such there are,) who can make brilliant acqui- shions without pains. It was, on the contrary, by the most sedulous industry, and the renun- ciation 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.
358 SIR WILLIAM JONES.
In 1764, he was entered of University college Oxford; and his excellent mother, who devoted her time almost entirely to him, fixed her resi dence in the same city. This affectionate and judicious attention, must have preserved him from many dangers, and was doubtless pro- ductive of great comfort and advantage to him. He ever regarded her with true filial afifection and gratitude ; and the desire of reheving her from the burden of his education, rendered a fellowship in the college the great object of his wishes. This soon fell into his possession, and placed liim according to his own idea, in a state of independence. He 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 respectable com- pany, and derived not only amusement, but much mstruction.
As he was desirous of obtaining a station in society adequate to his endowments, and by which he might be, in no ordinary degree, useful to his fellow-creatures, he chose the profession of law, for the study of which he had acquired a particular predilection. He entered at the Temple in the year 1770; and four years afterwards he was called to the Bar. He did not, however, sacrifice to professional studies all those literary pursuits, which had so delightfully occupied him.
«IR WILLIAM JONES. 359
■'•*s»
He published several volumes of poems, partly translations 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 sub jecls.
Tlie 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 gratifying his ardent desire for oriental researches. And in 1783, he received the appointment of a judge of the supreme court of judicature at Fort William, in Bengal ; and at the same time the honour of knight- hood was conferred upon him. About this period, lie married a most amiable woman, whose cultiva- ted 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 ini=titution 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 emi- nently useful. For his extensive researches into the history, laws, literature, and religion of India, the world is greatly indebted to him ; and from ihem the cause of Christianity has derived no inconsiderable aid.
360 8IR WILLIAM JONES- '
This learned and excellent man was, in llie prime of bis days, and when apparei>lly in good health, seized wiih a disorder which, in about a week, put a period to bis valuable life. — His biographer, Lord Teignmouth, observes, that "" the progress of the complaint was uncommonly rapid, and terminated fatally on the 27th of April, 1794. On the moniing of that day, his attendants, alarmed at the evident symptoms of approaching dissolution, came precipitately to call the friend who has now the mclancholv task of recording the mournful event: not a moment was lost in repairing to his house. He was lying on his bed in a posture of meditation ; and the only symptom of remaining life, was a small degree of motion in the heart, which after a few seconds ceased, and he expired without a pang or groan. His bodily suffering, from the complacence of his features and the ease of his attitude, could not have been severe ; and his mind must Kave derived consolation from those sources, where he had la^en in the habit of seekinrr it, and where alone, in our l^st moments, it can ever be found,"
When Sir William Jones was visited with his last illness, he was in the 4Sth year of his ao-e, possessing the full vigour of his mental powers, and occupied with vast projects of literature, which might have employed an active life protracted la
SIR WILLIAM JONES. 361
the utmost limits allotted to the human race. — Few men have died more respected, or more regretted, and 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. Asa linguist, he has rarely, if ever, been equalled ; for his list of languages compreliends, " 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, productive of dryness : taste and elegance marked all his exertions. As a poet, he would probably have risen to the first class, had his ardour for transplanting foreign beauties, allowed him leisure for the exercise of his own invention. His private virtues were not inferior to his intellectual endowments. As a son, a husband, a friend, and a citizen, he fulfilled every duty in an exemplary manner. His integi'ity in the exercises of his judicial ofifice 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 presence was the delight of every society which his conversation exhilarated and improved ; and his whole conduct bespoke a manly and independent spirit. A rational and ex-
31
S62 SIR WaLLIAM JONES.
alted piety crowned the whole of his great attain ments, and excellent qualities.
" The mind of Sir William Jones," says his pious and elegant biographer, "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 W'liile obscure the dawn, and disperse with the rising sun. His 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 in vestigation. He sat down to the inquiry without prejudice, and rose from it with a conviction, w^hich the studies of his future life invigorated and con- firmed. The completion of the prophecies relating to our Saviour, had impi-essed upon his 3^outhful mind, this invaluable truth, that the language cf Isaiah, and other prophets, was inspired ; and in this belief, 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 authority 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
SIR WILLIAM JONES, 363
of inferior learning and penetration ; and whilst the pious derive satisfaction from the perusal of sentiments according Avith their own, those who doubt or disbelieve, should be induced to weiffh, with candour and impartiality, arguments which have produced conviction in the minds of the best, the wisest, and the most learned of man- kind.
" Among such as have professed a steady belief in the doctrine of Christianity, where sliall 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 follow 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 foundation 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 Revelation had been v/eak, who were better qualified to ex- pose its unsoundness ? Why were minds which boldly destroyed the prejudices in science, blind to " ihose in religion ? They read, examined, weighed, and believed ; and the same vigorous intellect, that dispersed the mists which concealed the
364 SIR WILLIAM JONES.
temple of human knowledge, was itself illumi- nated wiili the radiant trallis of Divine Revela- tion. Such authorities, and let me now subjoin to them the name of Sir William Jones, are de servedly entitled to great estimation.
" In some of his papers, containing a delinea- tion of his daily occupations, I find a portion of his lime allotted to the perusal of the Scriptures. And I am authorized to add, not o?ilv from what appears in his printed works and private me- moranda, but from particular and salisfactory testimony, that the wrilinss of our best divines en- gaged a large share of his attention ; and that pri- vate 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 1786, after a perusal of the eighth sermon of Barrow : —
^ ' As meadows parch'd, brown groves, and wither- ing flow'rs, Imbibe the sparkling dew and genial show'rs; As chill dark air inhales the morning b;fam; As diirsty hearts enjoy the gelid stream; Thus to man's grateful soul from heav'n descend, The mercies of his Father, Lord, and Friend.'"
Sir William Jones, in his Bible, wrote the fol- lowing note ; which coming from a man of his pro-
SIR WILLIAM JONES. 365
found 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 am of opinion, that the volume, independently of its Divine origin, contains more sublimity, purer morality, more im- portant history, and finer strains of eloquence, than can be collected from all other books, in whatever )anguage they may have been written."
As religion was the subject of his meditations in health, it was more forcibly impressed upon his mind during illness. He knew the duty of resig- nation to the will of his Maker, and of dependance on the merits of a Redeemer. These sentiments are expressed in a short prayer, which he composed during his indisposition in 1784; and which is in the following words : —
" O thou Bestower of all good ! if it please thee to continue my easy tasks in this hfe, grant me strength to perform them as a faithful servant : but if thy wisdom hath willed to end them by this thy visitation, admit me, not weighing my un- worlhiness, but through thy mercy declared in Christ, into thy heavenly mansions, that I may con-
31'
366 SIR WILLIAM JONES.
linually advance in happiness, by advancing in true knowledge and awful love of ihee. Thy will be done !"
Another short orayer, composed by liim, on waking one mon.ing at sea during the voyage to India, is worthy of insertion : —
" Graciously accept our thanks, thou Giver of all gcod, for having preserved us another night, and bestowed on us another day. O, grant that on this day, we may meditate on thy law with joy- ful veneration ; and keep it in all our actions, with fn-m obedience."
Amongst the papers written by tlu's truly ex- cellent man, was a prayer, composed by him on the first day of the year 1782, about twelve years before his death. It is evidently the effusion of a pious mind, deeply impressed with an awful sense of the infinite wisdom, power, and benevolence of his Creator ; and of the ignorance, weakness, and depravily of human nature. It contains sublime views of the Divine attributes ; and the most humble dependance on God, for light and abili- ty to serve him acceptably. Tlie following passa- ges are selected from this solemn and devout com- pocition : —
iC
Eternal and incomprehensible Mind, who, by
BIR WILLIAM JONES, 367
thy boundless power, before time began, createdst innumerable worlds for thy glory, and innumerable orders of beings for their happiness, which thy inlinite goodness prompted thee to desire, and thy infinite wisdom enabled thee to know ! we, thy creatures, vanish into nothing before thy supreme Majesty. To thy power we humbly submit ; of thy goodness we devoutly implore pro- tection ; on thy v^'isdom we firmly and cheerfuj'y rely. Irradiate our minds with all useful truth ; instil into our hearts a spirit of general benevo- lence ; give understanding to the foolish ; meekness to the proud ; temperance to the dissolute ; forti- tude to the feeble-hearted ; hope to the desponding ; faith to the unbelieving ; diligence to the sloth- f lU ; patience to those who are in pain; and thy celestial aid to those wdio are in danger ; comfort the afHictcd ; relieve the distressed ; supply the I'Ungry with salutary food, and the thirsty with a plentiful stream. Impute not our doubts to in- difference, nor our slowness of belief to hardness of heart ; but be indulgent to our imperfect nature, and supply our imperfections by thy heavenly fa- vour. Whenever we address thee in our retire- ment from the vanities of the world, if our prayers are foolish, pity us ; if presumptuous, pardon us ; if acceptable to thee, grant them, all-powerfnl God, grant them ! And as, with our living voice, and with our dying lips, we will express our sub- mission to thy decrees, adore thy providence, and
368 SIR WILLIAM JONES.
bless thy dispensations ; so, in all future slates, to which we reverently hope tliy goodness will raise us, grant that we may continue praising, ad- njiring, venerating, worshipping thee more and more, through worlds without number, and ages without end."
CONCLUSION.
The Reader, before he closes this volume, will naturally pause, and encourage reflections adapted to the subject. — He has been presented with the testimonies and experience of a number of his fellow-creatures, of diff'erent periods, countries, professions, and situations in life. He has found th.em all uniting in their attestation to the power and excellence of true religion, as our surest guide and consolation through time, and the only means of securing eternal happiness. This solemn and concurrent testimony is of great importance. Much of it proceeds from some of the most eminent persons that have ever appeared in the world, whether we consider their station, their abilities, or llieir virtue. It is on a subject of the most interest- ing nature : and claims our serious and reverent attention, as the sentiments of men, who were too much enlightened to be deceived themselves, and too deeply affected, as well as too virtuous, to de- ceive others. The}^ expressed their genuine feel- ings, and their unbiased views of things, at the most awful period of hfe.
370 CONCLUSION.
Some of the persons mentioned in these me moirs seem not to have been deeply impressed with religious considerations, till near the termi- nation of their days : they had then to lament the misapplication of their time, and the delay of the great work for which they were brought into ex- istence.— Others appear to have made an early, or more seasonable choice of virtue and goodnesv for their portion ; and to have spent a great part of their lives in the fear and love of God, and in do ing good to mankind. They enjoyed that peace of mind which the world could neither give nor take away : and a cheering well-grounded hope ac- companied 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 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 ar.d pursuit of them. The subtle enemy of all gjod is perpetually on the watch, to avail himself of our weakness and exposure, and to ensnare and destroy us. Our safety, therefore, consists m
CONCLUSION. 371
being always on our guard and in steadfastly resisting every approach of evil.
But Vv^ho is sufficient for these thinirs ? In this situation, how shall we preserve our innocence, maintain the warfare, and finally become victo- Tious ? — There is not a more evident and im- portant truth, than that the power of accomplish- ing these gTcat ends of life, is not of ourselves. It proceeds from the grace of God ; unto whom ^ve are directed to apply daily, for preservation in temptation, and deliverance from evil. The perusal of valuable books, reflection, conversa- tion, and other means of moral and intellectual improvement, are indeed of great use and im- portance. Besides enlarging the mind, and pro- moting our temporal comfort and advantage, they may spread before us a pleasing view of the beauty and excellonce of religion ; and may occasion some desires for the possession of that happine&s 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, pas- sion, depraved inclination, and the love of tlie 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.
372 CONCLUSION.
May we, therefore, never rest satisfied with clear apprehensions of our duty, just sentinncnts of the beauty and excellence of Religion, and frequent desires to become its disciples, and to partake of its felicity! May we be earneslly and steadfastly concerned to apply, through the Re deemer of mankind, to the Giver of all good, for the assistance of his Holy Spirit, as the only power which can sanctify and render effectual our en- deavours 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, there- fore, be dismayed by the perils of onr situation, whatever they may be, or by the fecblencijs of onr powers. With humble confidence, let us implore the God of love and nicrcy, to (orgivc all our of- fences ; to conduct us safely through the present life ; and to prepare us for a happy iramortality
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
A
rage.
Addison, Joseph - - - - - - - 216
Altamont ---•--.-- 294 Althens, Margaret ---••-- 320
B
Bacon, Lord Chancellor . - • - - - 92 Baynard,Ann .--•••• 220
Beattie, James Hay ..--••- 332 Beaufort, Ca.M.nal .•-..-• 42
Bede, the Venerable --••-•-35 Benezet, Anthony --,-•-- 282 Boerhaave, Herman .•-••-- 212 Borgia, Cacaar .... - - - 44
Boyle, Robert 167
Bretterg, Catharine - - - •- - -104 Burnet, Bishop -•-••••- 190
o
Carter, Elizabeth -.---•-843
Charles V. Emperor of Gennsny ----- 49 Confucius ---••-•-• 11
Cyrus --••-••--•8
D
Doddridge, DoctOf .---•-•• *8S Donne, Doctor .----- 100
874 INDEX.
E
Elizabeth, Princess of the Rhine « - - - - 143 Eugcnius, Fope ---- ••- 41
G
Gardiner, Colonel -.-•••-- 232
Gilpin, Bernard ----••-• 54
Grey, Lady Jane ---••••-71 Grotius, Hugo --•-•••- 109
11
llalc. Sir Matthew -•••--- 128 Ilaller Baroa 299
ilanvvay, Jonas -------- 276
Harrington, Lord - - - - - - - -118
Hastings, T«idy Elizabeth ------ 244
Hatton, Sir Christoi)hcr -------90
Ilcrvcy, James ---•-•-- 286 Hooker. Richard --------83
(lousinan. H. 249
Howi.:.!, John --••••- 306
I Ignatius .-•••-••-81
J
Jane, Queen of Navarre -•-•---67 Janeway, John --••-••- 167 Jcnyns, Soame ---••--- 262
Job 1
Jones, Sir William -.--.-- 857
L
Locke, John ----••-- 163
Ix)ub IX. King of France ------ 88
Lyttelton, Lord 273
INDEX. 375
M
Marlborough, Earl of------- 171
Mary, Quetn of England ------- 205
Mason Sir John --•-•--- 47 Mazarine, Cardinal - - - - - - - -122
Mompesson, William ----•«- 146
Moulin, Peter Da ----.-»- 97
N
Newton, Sir Isaac --•-••-- 186
Newton, John --------313
O
Orleans, Duke of 239
Oienstiern, Chancellor of Swoien - - - • - 107
P
Pascal, Blaise «----■-- 151
Paul, the Apostle ------- 2(5
Penn, Admiral -------- 149
Philip III. King of Spain 102
Polycarp ---------33
R
Raleigh, Sir Walter - - r . . - - 77
RatclilTe, Jane ---- •-- 183
Renti, Du 141
Richelieu, Cardinal - - - - - - 116
Rochester, Earl of- - - - - - - 195
Rowe, Elizabeth .-----, 222
Russel, Lady Rachel 174
S
Salmasius --------- 120
Schurman, Anna Maria ------ 126
376 INDEX.
Selden, John -*-----. 114
Sidney, Sir Philip 81
Smith, EHzabeth 337
Smith, Sir Thomas ----*-- 65
Socrates _.-«-••»•-!( Solomon ----------4
Stephen, the protomartyr --••>>•• 2«
W
Walsingham, Sir Francis - - • • • ■ 6J Watts, Doctor ------ - 22J
Whitelocke, Bulstrode ------ 12^
Woisey Cardmal ------ -4i
Wotton, Sir Henry ---«-•- 9(
z
RECOMMENDATIONS OF THIS WORK.
*' We have had frequent occasion to speak of the diligence, good «ense, and good intentions, of Mr. Murraj'^ ; and v/e congratulate tnm sincerely on the success of this parlictdar work. We announce tliis edition, because the alterations and additions are so consider- able, that it is rendered almost a new v/ork." — British Critic^ July, ISOl.
" The examples which Blr. Murray has here selected, and the ludicious reflections which accompany them, are such 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 excellent pubhcation, which has been long known and com- mended, is enlarged by the addition of twenty-two new characters, fiUing nearly one hundred pages." — Anti- Jacobin Review, January., 1S04.
""We have received the tenth and last edition of tliis valuable work. The improvements made in it, will appear from the Author's Advertisement. *We can only add to this account of the present useful volume, our hope that it will be extensively circulated among our countrymen." — The American Review and Literary Journal, for July, August, and September, 1801.
** On reviewing this book, in its improved form, we find the facta unquestionable and highly interesting — the style correct and neat— - and the general tendency of the work such as induces us strongly to recommend it, especially to young' readers ; who love entertain- ment mingled v/ith instruction." — Evangelical Magazine, Octo-
r, ISOL
)^r.
"The rapid sale of this small but valuable collection, has antici- pated the commendation we are desirous to bestow. In an exem- plification of more than se-fe?^/?/ remarkable characters, many strildn^ examples are exhibited, which, in the quiet hour of reflection, may contribute to arrest the careless and v/andering ; to animate the Bincere and virtuous ; and to convince or discountenance those who have been unhappily led to oppose the highest truths." — GenllCf VKz/is M'.igazine, November, 1803.
©o *
578 RECOMMENDATIONS OF THIS WORK.
'* In an age like the present, when Infidehty seems to have thrown away her mask, as no longer being ashamed to disclose her daring front ; — when a laxity of morals prevails even among behevers, and men stick not to insinuate that an indulgence in crimes expressly forbidden by our holy religion, will find excuse in the eye of that Being, who knows he formed us /'rail creatures ; — at such a season, it is of the highest importance, to recur to the piety of those com- paratively lew bright examples, who will b.e 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 vurtuous 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 wisdom,' and to depart from evil ihe only 'understanding.' " — Critical Review, June, 1803.
" This judicious biographical selection is already too well known, •to stand in need of our recommendation ; but wc nevertheless avail ourselves of a corrected and augmented edition, to add our appro- bation, to that which it has justly received from the most respecta- ble classes of the public." — Eclectic Review, April, 1806.
" This work, which has been long and justly admired, has, in the last edition, received many alterations and improvements ; and, in its present enlarged state, forms, in our opinion, one of the best books that can be put into the hands of young people." — Guardian of Education, August, 1803.
•^That 'examples draw, where precepts fail,' is a truth which has been acknowledged in 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 rehgion. He has thus fur- nished an interesthig collection of testimonies ; and we wonder not, (hat a work so instructive and amusing, as well as impressive, should have been generally patronised. It is a book which may be read with profit, by persons in all situations : and with the rising gtMieration, it may answer the double purpose, of improving them m biography and in virtue."— Mon/Wy Review^ August, 1801
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