Biography of pious persons

,;r:fc^rJ^V,*\,y

)niia
al

'' ) U -

' VOL -H CLASS.

;•;'

^

y

\

■^ »

Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive

in 2007 witii funding from

IVIicrosoft Corporation

http://www.arQliive.org/details/biograpliyofpiousOOspriiala

,,wy v(>-S

r

BIOGRAPHY

PIOU8 P£R80NS

BIOGRAPHY

OF

PIOUS PERSONS;

ABRIDGED FOR YOUTH.

' Will ihou not from this time cry unto me, My Father, thou art the
guide of my youth?" — Jeremiah.

MERRIAM, LITTLE AND CO.

183 2.

Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year
1S32, by Merriam, Little & Co. in the Clerk's Office
of the District Court of Massachusetts.

PREFACE.

The individuals whose biographies are
here selected and condensed, resided in dif-
ferent parts of Europe and America, and
occupied a space of time nearly equal to three
centuries. They were of both sexes, and of
every date, from the bloom of childhood, to
the decrepitude of age. They exhibited va-
rieties of intellect, attainment, profession, and
doctrinal belief. Some were scarcely known
beyond the narrow sphere of domestic duty, —
others became illustrious throughout distant
climes, as poets, philosophers, physicians,
civilians or divines. They were also diversi-
fied by every grade of rank and station, from
the obscurity of the humble householder, to
the pomp of nobility, and the splendor of a
throne.

Vet amidst all this contrast of structure and
circmnstancc, a pervading principle of unifor-
mity may be discovered. One possession
was connnon to all, whether in poverty or
wealth. Tliey were sustained under adver-
sity, and guarded in prosperity, by the same

IV PREFACE.

invisible Hand. From one source, both the
favorite of genius, and the child of ignorance,
derived knowledge ; that knowledge of man's
infirmity, and of God's mercy, which "maketh
wise unto salvation." However differently
they might seem arrayed to the eye of the
world, it was the armor of true piety which
shielded them in misfortime, and gave them
victory over temptation. It was the steadfast
faith of the Christian, which took from the
ills of life their power to hurt the soul ; — it
was the " hope full of glory," that gave a
smile to death, either amid the terrors of a
scaffold, — or the protracted agonies of disease.

To those who may contemplate these ex-
amples, the question is submitted, whether
that religion is not worthy of persevering-
search, of ardent prayer, — which can render
the illusions of prosperity harmless, and the
pains of sorrow salutary, — make life's pilgrim-
age a scene of virtue, and beautify death as
an angel of repose, — exchange the coveted
and perishing goods of time for an eternal
heritage in the heavens 1 And to the young,
— to whose perusal these pages are particu-
larly and affectionately dedicated, — do they
not offer additional inducements to "remem-
ber their Creator," ere the period of that
promise shall expire, " those that seek me
early shall find me ?"

Hartford, Conn., January, 1832.

INDEX,

Chronologically arranged.

— ^O©—

Year of Birth. Page.

1. Catharine Parr, last Queen of Henry the

Eighth of England, 1509. 9

2. Jane, Q,ucen of Navarre, 1528. 16

3. Lady Jane Grey, 1536. 22

4. Philip de Mornay, Lord du Plessis, . . . 1549, 32

5. Sir Francis Bacon, ........ 1561. 35

6. John Milton, 1608. 41

7. Sir Matthew Hale, - . 1609. 52

8. Rev. Rowland Nevit, 1609. 59

9. Rev. Francis Tallents, 1609. 61

10. Rev. Samuel Stone, 1610. 65

11. Blaise Pascal, 1623. 70

12. Countess of Suffolk, 1627. 74

13. Countess of Warwick 1630. 81

14. Rev. Philip Henry, 1631. 89

15. Susanna Bicks 1650. 117

16. Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, . . .1651. 130

17. Rev. Christopher Love, 1651. 139

18. Jacob Bicks, 1657. 142

19. Marquis of Argylc, 1661. 145

20. Rev. Samuel Lawrence, 1661. 147

21. Rev. Matthew Henry, 1662. 109

22. Mary, duccn of Great Britain, Consort of
William Third, 1662. .151

VI INDEX.

Mar of Birth. Page.

23. John Harvey, • . 1664. 164

24. Dr. Herman Boerhaave, 16G8. 168

25. Dr. Samuel Benion, 1673. 175

26. Mrs. Elizabeth Rowc, 1674. 187

27. Lady Mary Vere, 1680- 198

28. Col. James Gardiner, . ...... 1688. 202

29. Rev. Jonathan Edwards, 1703. 206

30. Dr. Samuel Johnson 1709. 221

31. Rev. George Wliitefield, 1714. 230

32. Rev. Samuel Bueli, 1716. 243

33. William Cowper, Esq • . .1731. 248

34. Dr. James Beattie 1735. 252

35. Rev. Samuel Stillman, 1737. 265

36. Rev. Jonathan Edwards, 2d, 1745. 268

37. Sir Wilham Jones, ........ 1746. 276

38. Hon. Samuel Osgood, 1748. 282

39. Eliza Cunningham, 1771. 285

40. Joshua Rowley Gilpin, ...'... 1788. 300

BIOGRAPHY, &c.

CATHARINE PARR,

last queen of king henry the eighthj of
eKgland.

Her birth was in the year 1509, the
1609. beginning of the reign of the monarch
who was afterwards her husband. Her
fathec, Sir Tlionias Parr, gave her a learned edu-
cation, and her progress was fully answerable to her
uncommon advantages. But with all her endow-
ments, she seemed less solicitous to shine than
to serve her fellow-creatures, and to please her
God ; and in every stage of life consecrated her
talents and accomplishments to the best and M'isest
purposes. Very early in life she was married to
John Neville, Lord Latimer, and after his decease
the beauties of her person, and charms of her mind,
so captivated the changeable king Henry the
Eighth, that he induced her to become his wife, on
the 12th of July, 1643.

She was now in a situation to do extensive good,
and industriously availed herself of every opportu-
nity, either to relieve the distressed, espouse the
1

10 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

cause of the injured, or soften the asperities of her
irritable consort. Piety preserved her pure from
the vanities of a court, and in prayer her affections
continually ascended upward. From infancy her
mind had received deep religious impressions, and
her matured reason rejected the errors of a Popish
education, and embraced the Protestant faith.
This creed exposed her to many persecutions from
her enemies, and more than once her life was en-
dangered by their influence over the mind of her
husband.

Bishop Gardiner, a fiery Popish zealot, with
much art persuaded the king to sign a warrant for
her commitment to the Tower, but this instru-
ment, being accidentally dropped, was conveyed to
Catharine, who was so deeply affected with such
base ingratitude, and the hard condition of female
royalty, that she was thrown into a severe fit of
sickness. Henry visited her in her sufferings, and
the wavering flame of his affection was rekindled.
Soon after he was himself ill, and during her care-
ful attendance upon him, he endeavored to draw
from her an avowal of what he suspected were her
articles of belief; but she knowing his bigoted
attachment to Popery, and that an acknowledgment
of her principles would inflame him to madness,
and perhaps overwhelm many with herself, express-
ed her opinions with such prudence, caution, and
delicacy, as soothed his temper, though without re-
moving his suspicions, and drew from him the stron-
gest assurances of reconciliation and love.

But the fury of the conspirators did not abate, and
when the time specified in the warrant for her im-
prisonment had arrived, (hey again renewed their

CATHARINE PARR. 11

efforts, thirsting for innocent blood. She had gone
to walk in the garden with some ladies who shared
her intimacy, and who being suspected of agreeing
with her in the Protestant faith, were secretly ap-
pointed to share her imprisonment. The King
joined them in their walk : the conversation became
sprightly and interesting, and he began to realize
what his heart was always susceptible of — the force
of female attraction. Suddenly forty of the guards
appeared, led on by the Lord High Chancellor,
when Henry, giving him a stem look, in the most
passionate and contemptuous expressions bade him
to depart instantly Trom his presence.

The Queen, observing him to be much embar-
rassed, said with great sweetness and in a supplicating
tone of voice, "I pray your Majesty, if the fault of the
Chancellor be not too heinous, that you would par-
don him for my sake." Henry, abashed at her
goodness, and the remembrance of his fault, stood
silent, while she repeatedly entreated, "for my sake
— for my sake." — At length he hinted to her that
his design was to have imprisoned, and perhaps
executed her ; but when he saw her still persist in
benevolent entreaties for his pardon, he was so pow-
erfully struck with her forgiving piety, that his mind,
usually wavering and inconstant, never forgot the
impression, or would admit any accusation against
the Queen.

Thus miraculously did divine Providence defeat
the malice and snares of her enemies ; and this
imminent danger was rendered salutary to her soul,
by exciting it to new fervency in prayer, and quick-
ening its preparation for eternity. Such was the
visible answer of (lod to her petitions, and to such

l^ BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

a degree were the affections of the monarch rivetted
upon her, that after the failure of Gardiner's cruel
plan, her enemies, though they wished it, never dared
to make a similar attempt. She still continued to
search the Scriptures, and to converse with her chap-
lains on the doctrines of the Reformation, and had
a Sermon preached in her chamber every day. She
procured an able translation of Erasmus' Paraphrase
of the New Testament into English, for the instruc-
tion of the common people, and the cost of this
expensive work she defrayed entirely from her own
resources. During the time of ^er continuance as
queen, notwithstanding her many and peculiar avo-
cations, she wrote much on religious subjects.
Some of these papers were published during her
life, and others after her death.

Her first printed composition, was one in which
she acknowledged the religious errors of the early
part of her life, when she relied on external perfor-
mances, ignorant of that internal power of religion,
which had afterwards been granted to her humble
and persevering prayers. All her manuscripts ex-
hibit a true spirit of devotion, and a deep sense of
dependance upon God, and prove how much of her
time and thoughts, amid the pomps and ceremonies
of her station, were devoted to the concerns of her
soul, and the dissemination of piety and virtue among
her people.

She considered useful learning, as favorable to
the interests of religion, and used constant endeav-
ors to extend and promote it. So much was she
considered the patroness of literature, and such was
her supposed influence over the king, that when the

CATHARINE PARR. 13

University of Cambridge was alarmed at the pas-
sing of an act which declared all the Colleges at his
Majesty's disposal, the principal heads and dignita-
ries addressed a letter to her, entreating her to inter-
cede that their privileges might not be abridged.

In her reply, after signifying that his Majesty had
granted her intercessions in their behalf — she adds
— " I doubt not, your daily invocations will be offered
up to Him who alone disposeth of every creature,
for the preservation and prosperity of your royal
benefactor." After commending the flourishing state
of literature at Cambridge, she exhorts them "not
so to hunger for the exquisite knowledge of profane
learning," as to neglect the simplicity of the doctrines
of Christ. She concludes this excellent letter — "I
am taught to say by St. Paul — 'I am not ashamed
of the gospel of Christ ;' to the sincere setting forth
of which, I trust you will conform your various gifts
and studies, that Cambridge may be accounted an
University, not only of moral and natural, but of
divine Philosophy."

Next to the duties of devotion, and the study of
the scriptures, it was the care of this excellent woman
to perform her duty to the king. Perhaps no one
but herself could so well have executed that ardu-
ous task. The ill health that was his constant por-
tionduringhercontinuance with him, added fierceness
to his harsh and intractable disposition, and though
his principal favorites suffered severely from liis
caprice and passion, the amiable qualities of his con-
sort, her gentleness, tenderness, and charms of
conversation, alleviated his pains, and fixed his
mutable affections. His death took place, three
years and a half after she became his wife, and she
1*

14 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

was again married to Sir Thomas Seymour, Lord
High Admiral of England. The harshness and
ambition of her second husband, and the unexam-
pled pride of some of his family, embittered her
days, and hastened their decline. In the month of
September, 1548, she passsed where "the wicked
cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest."

To this little sketch of her character I add part
of one of her prayers, which these narrow limits
compel me reluctantly to abridge ; —

"Most benign Lord Jesus ! Grant me thy grace
always to work in me, and persevere with me unto
the end. Let me have no desire to will, or not to
will, but as thou wilt : for thou Lord knowest what
is most profitable and expedient for me. Give me
therefore what thou wilt : — as much as thou wilt ; —
and when thou wilt. I pray thee, gi-ant me thy
grace, that I may never set my heart on the things
of this world, but that all carnal and worldly affec-
tions may utterly die, and be mortified in me. For
thou, Lord, art the very true peace of my heart,
and perfect rest of my soul, and without thee all
things are grievous and unquiet.

I beseech thee, be with me in every place, and at
all times ; yet if thou withdraw thy comfort from
me at any time, keep me, O Lord, from desperation,
and make me patiently to bear thy will. If thou
wilt that I be in light, be thou blessed : — if thou wilt
that I lie in trouble, and without comfOrt, be thou
likewise blessed. Keep me. Lord, from sin, and
then I shall dread neither death or hell. Oh ! what
thanks shall I give unto thee, who hast suffered the
grievous death of the cross, to deliver me from my
sins, and to obtain everlasting life for me ? Thou

CATHARINE PARR. 15

gavest us the most perfect example of patience,
fulfilling and obeying the will of thy Father even
unto death. Make me, wretched sinner, obediently
to order myself after thy will in all things, and
patiently to bear the burden of this corrupt life.
For though it be tedious, and as an heavy burden
to my soul, yet nevertheless through thy grace and
example, it is made much more easy and comforta-
ble. Thy holy lile is our way to thee, and by follow-
ing that, we walk to Thee our head and Saviour.

Except thou hadst gone before, and showed us
the way to everlasting life, who would endeavor of
himself to follow thee, seeing we are yet so slow
and dull, having the light of thy blessed example and
holy doctrine to lead and direct us ? 0 Lord Jesus,
makc.that possible by grace, which is to me impos-
sible by nature. Thou knowest well that I can
sufier little, that I am soon cast down and over-
thrown with a little adversity : wherefore I beseech
thee, O Jjord, to strengthen me with thy Spirit, that
I may willingly suffer for thy sake all manner of
troubles and afflictions."

JAJTE, Q,UEEX OF XAVARRE.

She was the daughter of Henry Second, King
of Navarre, and Mai^aret of Orleans,

1528. sister of the celebrated Francis First,
of France. She was married to Antho-
ny, of Bourbon, son of the Duke of Vendome,
and the mother of Henry the Great, fourth king
of France and Navarre. Early initiated by her
parents in the truths of the Protestant religion,
she became a firm adherent to them, in times
of distressing bigotry and persecution. The
leading French papists, finding her firm against
their insinuations, endeavored to detach her hus-
band from the Protestant interest, and so far was
he duped by their artifices, as to solicit his queen to
return with him to the bosom of the Romish Church,
and on her refusal, withdrew from her his affections
and his confidence. She therefore retired to Po-
diani, in the country of Berne, where she kept her
diminished court, and enjoyed the consolations of
her religion.

Soon after, she became a widow, for the King
of Navarre was mortally wounded in the shoulder, at
the siege of Orleans. The Catholic faction imme-
diately attempted to seize the queen with her son
and daughter, and bring them before the Spanish

JANE, QUEEN OP NAVARRE. 17

Inquisition. But this cruel design was frustrated
by a signal interposition of that Almighty Being,
who preserves those whose tnist is in his mercy, and
whose prayers continually ascend before his throne.
Persecutions of the Protestants now commenced
with the greatest fury, and fountains of innocent
blood were seen to flow.

In the third civil war, the queen of Navarre find-
ing every pacific proposal rejected, advanced with
considerable force to Rochelle. After the first
unfortunate battle, where the prince of Condi^ was
slain, she gathered the scattered remains of the
Protestant army, and animated a great assembly
of nobles and soldiers, by the spirit of her eloquence.
She applauded the piety and constancy of the fallen
hero, and called upon all who heard her to imitate
his example, and to persevere in supporting the
cause of Christ, and the liberties *of their country.
" For the good cause, said she, is not dead with
the Prince of Conde, neither ought worthy men in
such losses to yield to despondency. God having
so provided for his cause, that he gave Conde a com-
panion while he hved, who may succeed him now
he is no more. I have brought with me, my only
son Heniy, who being the heir of Conde's name
is heir also of his virtues."

After striving to inspirit her nobles, and giving
the young prince much private counsel and admo-
nition, she returned to Rochelle to raise new rein-
forcements. But misfortune still attended her arms;
the countries of Berne and Foox were reduced,
and the Papists laid furious siege to Navarre, the
only place of strength that remained. It was then
found that the humble prayers of the saints, " were

18 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

mighty through God to the pulling down of strong
holds, and to the easting down of every high thing
that exalteth itself." A victory, unexpected, £ind
almost miraculous, was given to the persecuted
saints, and the enemy retreated with disgrace, re-
signing the conquered territory, and offering condi-
tions of peace. To confirm the treaty still more
effectually, they proposed a marriage between the
young Prince Henry, and the sister of the king
of France. The Queen of Navarre objected, on
account of their different religious belief, — but her
remonstrances were overruled by the argument,
that it would establish peace on a more permanent
basis, and stop the effusion of blood.

She improved the little interval of quiet which
attended this negotiation, in disseminating the
principles of the reformed religion among her
subjects. She sent a number of pastors into the
neglected province of Cantabria, and translated
into their dialect, the New Testament, Catechism,
and prayers used in the church at Geneva. While
she was employing herself in these pious designs,
the French King sent dispatches to her, insisting
that the proposed nuptials should be celebrated at
Paris. To this she assented reluctantly, and in
the spring of 1672, left her hereditary dominions
with her children and retinue. She was observed
to depart with regret ; — but she went " as a bird to
the snare of the fowler, — not knowing that it was
for her life."

The festivity attending the marriage of her son,
was chosen by the inhuman Papists, as the signal
of the massacre of the unsuspecting Protestants,
and so secretly was this abominable plot laid, and so

JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 19

unprovided were they for defence, that on the 24th
of August, 30,000 of them were butchered without
regard to age or sex. The French queen dowager,
one of the principal instigators, fearing that Jane
might escape the massacre, and dreading the effects
of the greatness of her spirit should she survive,
resolved to make sure this victim. Two months
previous to the intended massacre, while all wore
the appearance of satisfaction and joy, she engaged
an Italian >vretch, of the name of Rene, to sell to
the innocent Queen of Navarre, some perfume,
mingled with the most subtile, and powerful poison.
She was immediately thrown into a lingering and
excruciating fever, which she perceived must termi-
nate in death. With dignified composure, with
profound solemnity, she prepared her soul for the
approaching event. Calling her son Henry to her
couch, she gave him much excellent advice, and
among other things said, — " I enjoin you above all,
carefully to serve God in the religion in which you
have been educated, and not to suffer your soul to
be diverted by the empty pleasures and delights
of this world. Inviolably preserve the constitutions
which have been given respecting it, in the princi-
palities of Berne, and the lower Navarre. Purge
your family of all irreligious counsellors, vicious
persons, and flatterers, the abusers of princes.
Take a tender care of your sister Catharine, and
give her an education in the same school of piety
where you have received your own."

After appointing him her heir, and entreating
the King of France to be the protectgr of her
orphan children, and allow them the free exercise
of their religion, she requested tliat she might have

20 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

suitable persons around her, to pray with her,
and administer consolation to her departing soul.
*' I take all this," said she, " as sent from the hands
of my most merciful Father. Nor have I during this
extremity been afraid to die ; much less have I
murmured against this chastisement, knowing that
whatsoever God does shall in the end turn to my
everlasting good. As for this life, I am in a good
measure weaned from it, by the afflictions which
have followed me from my youth to the present
hour ; but especially because I cannot live without
offending my God, with whom I desire to be with
all my heart."

Her minister requested her to pray, that if it were
the will of God she might be longer employed in
his service upon earth. She replied, " For myself
this sinful life is not dear, but I have a concern for
the children whom God has given me, and if I were
now to die they would be left alone in their early
years. Yet, I doubt not, if he were to see fit to
take me from them, he himself will be a Father and
Protector for them, as he has ever been to nje in
my greatest afflictions : and therefore I commit
them wholly to his government, and fatherly care.
Death is not terrible to me, because it is the way
to pass to eternal rest." Then with her hands and
eyes lifted up to heq,ven, she said in the voice of
prayer, " my sins which I have committed against
the Lord are innumerable, and more than I can
recount ; yet I hope that God, for Christ's sake,
in whom I put my whole trust, will be merciful to
me."

The steadiness of her faith imparted a cheerful
serenity to her countenance ; and her pains, though

JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 21

very severe, never extorted from her an impatient
word, or scarcely a groan. Often amidst edifying
discourse, she was heard to utter in prayer, " O my
(jrod, in thy due time deliver me from the body of
this death, and from tlie miseries of this present
life, that I may no more offend thee, and that I may
attain to that felicity which thou in thy word hast
promised to bestow upon tne." Seeing her ladies
weeping round her bed, ^he said, " I pray you do
not weep for me, since God by this sickness calls
me to the enjoyment of a better life ; and now I
am about to enter the desired haven towards which
my frail vessel has been so long steering." Just as
she was expiring, one of her ministers said, " Are you
now willing to go ?" " Yes, I assure you," she an
.swered, "much more willing than to linger here below
in tliis world where I see nothing but vanity," and
thus sweetly yielded up her breath, June 9th, 1572,
in the 44th year of her age. " Queen Jane of
Navarre, says Bishop Burnet, reformed not only
her court, but her whole principality ; and to such
a degree that the golden age seemed to have return-
ed under her, or rather Christianity appeared again
in its primitive purity and lustre. Her dominions
were so narrow, that though she had the rank and
dominion of queen, it was like sovereignty in min-
iature ; though the colors were light, it was of the
.smallest form."

LADY JAXE GREY.

Lady Jane Grey, the daughter of Henry, Mar-
quis of Dorset, and Lady Frances Brandon, grand
daughter of Ilenry Seventh, was bom
1536. in the year 1636. Her attractions began
early to display themselves ; for to beau-
ty of person she united many accomplishments — el-
egance in the performances of the needle and pen,
skill in vocal and instrumental music, gracefulness
of deportment, and an inexpressible charm of con-
versation. Still she aspired to acquisitions of great-
er solidity, and having obtained such a knowledge
of her own language as to speak and write with pe-
culiar accuracy, she acquired the French, Italian,
Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee and Arabic. These
she studied so thoroughly as to render them perfect-
ly familiar, and it is asserted on the authority of the
most learned men of that period, that she wrote in
each with facility. This great mass of knowledge
was secured in childhood and early youth ; and so
far was she from vanity or self conceit, that she
mingled all her attainments with modesty, humility,
and piety.

Yet though the sweetness and gentleness of her
demeanour attracted universal admiration, it is an
unaccountable fact, that she was treated by her pa-

LADY JANE GREY. 23

rents with cold and stern severity. This led her to
seek for happiness in the retirement of intellectual
pursuits ; and depressed by the unmerited chidings
of her parents, she returned with double pleasure to
the lessons of her beloved tutor, Aylmere, whose
gentleness was as a cordial to her spirit, crushed by
unnatural austerity. Yet her otvn reflecting mind
perceived that this trial had been sanctified to her
improvement, and she said cheerfully to a friend,
" One of the greatest benefits that God ever gave
me, was to send me such sharp and severe parents,
and so gentle a schoolmaster." This was also one
of the first incentives to that fervent and uniform pi-
ety, which was so early observable in her ; for check-
ed in the natural effusions of a susceptible heart,
and chilled with rigors, where her first confidence
sought to repose itself, she found Him who comfort-
eth the mourner, and raiseth up the spirits that are
cast down.

Childhood, which is so often devoted to vanity,
was in her case marked with piety, and while her
daily devotions comforted and strengthened her,
they gained a visible blessing upon her pursuits,
studies and attainments. Her parentage, and situ-
ation in life, sometimes required her attendance at
court, where her conversation, accomplishments
and humility, strongly awakened the admiration and
esteem of the young King Edward, who was him-
self a conspicuous example of virtue, learning and
piety. Soon after, her father was created Duke of
Suffolk, and the father of her future husband was
made Duke of Northumberland. She was married
to the young liord Otiilford Dudley, May, 1553, at
the age of 16, and the King, who requested that the

24 BIOGRAPHV OF PIOUS PERSONS.

nuptials might be celebrated with great pomp, con-
tributed liberally to their expenses from the royal
treasuiy. But the magnificence and splendor of
this scene was the last gleam of joy that shone in
the palace of King Edward. His decline increas-
ed— he withered and decayed like some feeble
and beautiful plantt until the 6th of July, 1553,
when he expired, beloved and lamented. Religion
had long been his guide and his consolation, and in
the hours of his last suffering, its interests were pe-
culiarly dear. He knew his sister Mary to be a
bigoted Roman Catholic, he feared that the Protest-
ant religion which he had fostered she would crush
in its infancy, and trembled with a prophetic spirit,
at the persecutions that would rage, and the blood
that must flow if she should be seated on his throne.
He was led to meditate on Lady Jane, as his suc-
cessor, and the strong solicitations of the Duke of
Northumberland, so seconded his own choice, that
one of the last acts of his life was to authorize a
deed of settlement, signed by himself and all the
Lords of the Council, in which Lady Jane Grey
was declared the rightful heir to the crown and scep-
tre of England. Of this she knew nothing, until
her father, and father-in-law entered Durham Cas-
tle, and informed her of her exaltation, and while
she struggled with astonishment and terror, they, fal-
ling on their knees, paid her homage as queen. As
soon as she could express herself audibly she en-
treated them not to persist in their design, or for a
moment indulge a thought of trespassing on the
rights of Mary and Elizabeth. " Shall I scruple,
said she, at the stealing of a shilling, and not at the
usurpation of the crown ? Or shall I accept a crown

LADY JANE GREY. 25

violently \vrestecl from Catharine of Arragon, and
made more unfortunate by the punishment of Ann
Boleyn and others that wore it after her ? Why
will you have me add my blood to theirs, and be the
third victim from whom that fatal thing has been
Avfested, with the head that wore it ? Rather if you
love me sincerely, and so earnestly as you say, let
me remain in a secure and quiet condition, and not
force me into such an exalted situation, so exposed
to the wind, and so likely to be followed by some
dismal fall.''

But her arguments were disregarded, and her en-
treaties silenced by the Duke of Northumberland,
who assured her that all was done according to law,
and the wishes of the people ; by the commands of
her father, to which she had ever been accustomed
to submit ; by the tears and intercessions of her
mother, and the ardent entreaties of her husband,
whom she loved tenderly, and by whom she was
equally beloved. Finding herself unable to resist,
with a reluctant and heavy heart she suffered her-
self to be conveyed to the Tower, where she was
immediately proclaimed, and arrayed with the in-
signia of royalty. But short indeed, was the date
of her sovereignty ; on the morning of the tenth
day commenced the reign of Queen Mary, announ-
ced by a proclamation in London. The Duke of
Suffolk, entering her apartment with a disturbed air,
and a faultering tone, imparted the intelligence, but
she received it with a serene and composed counte-
nance, and answered that the message was far less
painful than her advancement to royalty ; that from
obedience to him she had done violence to herself
and deeply sinned, and would now gladly make all
2*

26 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

possible reparation for the error she had conimitled.

But immediately after her relinquishment of roy-
alty, her gentle heart was doomed to bleed at the
sight of suflerings which she had innocently caus-
ed. Mary, incensed and vindictive, threw into close
confiinen)ent the Dukes of Suffolk, and aSorthum-
berland, and brought the latter to the block. The
whole family of ]N orthumberland suffered the pains
of imprisonment, and thither Lady Jane and ^er
husband after their trial were brought, under sen-
tence of death. This amiable lady has hitherto fur-
nished us with proof of uncommon intellectual ex-
cellence and exhibited a sensibility and gentleness,
which it is impossible- not to adtnire. She will now
display to us her fortitude — greatness of soul — con-
scious rectitude — and inspiring piety, which, break-
ing forth with brighter lustre, shed unfading radiance
upon her closing days. Neither repining, grief or
dejection, sat upon her countenance : no murmur
escaped her lips that she must thus be torn Irom
life and all its enjoyments.

She wi-ote to her father during her imprisonment,
that she was not only reconciled to the approaching
event, but thankful for it ; that however painful it
might appear to him, nothing to her could be more
welcome, than from this vale of misery to aspire to
a seat with her Saviour, and she prayed that he
might be so divinely preserved in the faith of Jesus,
that theymight meet in heaven at last. She spent her
imprisonment in acts of piety and devotion, though
much interrupted by the officiousness of the Popish
priests, who were continually sent by Queen IVlary,
to endeavor to convert her to their faith. These
found her belief steadfast, and her arguments unan-

LADV JANE GREY. 27

swerablc, and having heard that one of her former
preceptors had changed his faith, through fear of
persecution, she addressed to him a most excellent
and convincing letter. Towards the conclusion she
says — " Come home again like Mary ; and with Pe-
ter bitterly weep. As, with the lost son you have
wandered, be not ashamed with him to return from
the riot of strangers, acknowledging that you have
sinned against Heaven and Earth : agmnst one by
staining the glorious name of God ; against the
other by becoming a stumbling block to your weak
brethren."

To her sister, the night before her death, she
wrote a long and valuable letter at the end of a
Greek Testament, which she sent her as the last me-
morial of her friendship and affection. " As to my
death, good sister, rejoice as I do, that I shall be
delivered from this corruption, and put on incorrup-
tion ; for I am as-<ured that by losing a mortal I
shall gain immortal life, which I pray God to grant
you, and send you grace to live in his fear, and to
die in the true Christian faith, from which in God's
name, I exhort you never to swen'e, either for hope
of Hfe, or fear of death."

The day appointed for the execution of the two
innocent victims was February 12th, 1654. When
the fatal morning arrived, Lord Guilford Dudley
earnestly besought the officers for liberty to take a
last farewell of his beautiful and beloved consort.
This was readily granted, but on being notified to
her, she thought it inexpedient, and collecting the
whole force of her mind endeavored to dissuade
him from his purpose. " Such a meeting," she sent
him an answer," would only add to your afflictions,

28 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

and disturb the quiet with which we ought to arm
our souls for the stroke of death. You demand a
lenitive which will inflame the wound ; for I fear my
presence will rather weaken than strengthen you. —
If your soul is not now firm and composed, I can
neither settle it with my eyes, or confirm it with my
words. Defer then this interview, until a few mo-
ments are past, and then we meet in another world.
There indeed, friendships will be happy, and unions
indissoluble, and ours doubtless will be eternal, if
vve carry nothing terrestrial with us to hinder our re-
joicing."

When she saw her husband led out to execution,
she involuntarily testified great emotion, but soon
overcame it by reflecting how soon she should fol-
low him, and giving him her farewell from the win-
dow, composed herself for the approaching solem-
nity, lie suffered on the scaffold with much Chris-
tian meekness ; and his streaming body laid upon a
car, and his severed head wrapt in a linen cloth, in
a few minutes after, passed under her window. She
beheld this shocking spectacle with a composed
countenance, and immediately wrote in her table
book three sentences in Latin, Greek and English.
This book she presented to Sir John Bridges, Lieu-
tenant of the Tower, as a grateful acknowledgment
of his kindness during her imprisonment. The
Greek sentence was, ■" If this slain body shall give
sentence against me before men, his most blessed
soul shall render eternal proof of my innocence in
the presence of God." The Latin, " The justice
of man destroyed his body ; but the mercy of God
has preserved his soul." The English, " If my
fault deserved this punishment, my youth and my

LADY JANE GREV. 29

imprudence admit at least of excuse. God and pos-
terity will show me favor."

She proceeded to the scaffold with a serene and
sweet countenance, fixuig her eyes upon a book of
prayers, and paying little atttention to the discourses
of the Popist priest who followed her. She addres-
sed a short speech to the people who surrounded
her, kneeled dowTi and repeated the 51st Psalm in a
most devout manner, mildly gave her forgiveness to
the executioner, who kneeling entreated it, suffered
herself to be disrobed by her women, and laying
her head upon the block said, " Lord, into thine
hands I commend my spirit." Thus perished this
amiable being at the age of seventeen. Among
her devotional papers Ls found a prayer, written in
the time of her adversity, with some extracts of
which I close this imperfect account of a most in-
teresting and admirable character.

" O Lord, thou God and Father of my life ! hear
me, a poor and desolate woman, who fly to thee
alone in all troubles and miseries. Thou, 0 Lord,
art the only defender and deliverer of those who put
their trust in thee : and therefore I, being defiled
with sin, encumbered with afflictions, disquieted
with troubles, wrapped in cares, overwhelmed with
miseries, and grievously tormented with long im-
prisonment in this vile body of clay, do come unto
thee, merciful Saviour, craving thy mercy and help,
Mrithout which so little hope of deliverance is left,
that I may utterly despair. Although it is expedi-
ent that we should be visited with adversity, where-
by we may both be tried whether we be of thy flock
or not, and also know thee and ourselves better, yet
thou who saidst thou wouldst not suffer us to be

30 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

tempted above our power, be merciful unto me, a
miserable creature.

I beseech thee, that I may neither be too much
lifted up with prosperity, or too much pressed down
with adversity. O merciful God, consider my mis-
ery, best known to thee, and be thou now to me a
strong tower of defence, 1 humbly entreat thee. Suf-
fer me not to be tempted above my power ; — but ei-
ther deliver me from this great misery, or give me
grace to bear patiently thy sharp correction. It was
thine hand that delivered the people of Israel from
Pharoah, who for 400 years did oppress, and keep
them in bondage. Give me grace to tarry until thy
pleasure, patiently bearing thy work, and assuredly
knowing that as thou canst, so thou wilt deUver me,
when it shall please thee ; nothing doubting or mis-
trusting thy goodness unto me ; for thou knowest
better what is good for me than I do ; therefore do
with me in all things as thou wilt. Only arm me, I
beseech thee, with thine armor, that I may stand
fast ; my loins being girt about with verity, having
on the breast plate of righteousness, and the shoes
of the gospel of peace ; above all things taking the
shield of faith, and the helmet of salvation, and the
sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God ; pray-
ing always, with all manner of prayer and supplica-
tion, that I may refer myself wholly to thy will, a-
bide in thy pleasure, and comfort myself in those
troubles which it shall please thee to send me, see-
ing such troubles are profitable for me, and seeing I
am assuredly persuaded, that it cannot but be well
— all that thou dost. Hear me, O merciful Father,
for his sake whom thou wouldst to be a sacrifice for

LADT JANE GREY. 31

my sins ; to whom, with thee, and the Holy Ghost,
be all honor and glory. — Amen."

In the place of her gloomy confinement she en-
graved with a pin, the following lines.

" Think not, O mortal, vainly gay,
That thou from human woes art free ;

The bitter cup I drink to-day

To-morrow may be drank by thee.

Harmless is malice if our God be nigh;

Fruitless all pains if he his help deny.

Patient I pass these gloorny hours away,

And wait the morning of Eternal Day."

I cannot forbear transcribing the concise and ele-
gant character given of her by Mr. Fuller. " She
had the innocence of childhood, the beauty of youth,
the solidity of middle life — and all at 17. She had
the birth of a princess, the learning of a divine, and
the life of a saint ; and yet suffered the death of a
malefactor, for the offences of her parents."

PHILIP DE MORNAY,

LORD DU PLESSIS.

Philip de Mornay, an illustrious French no-
bleman, was descended from an ancient family,
which had produced many eminent men,

1549. and born Nov- 5, 1549. His education
was conducted with the utmost care ;
tutors were provided for him in all languages and
sciences, and his progress was such as might be
expected from a superior genius, with close appli-
cation. While his young mind was forming, his
mother, who was a Protestant, insensibly inspired it
with her own principles, jind laid true religion as
the foundation of his future fame. His zeal
against popery exposed him partially to the perse-
cutions which the Huguenots experienced, and he
and his mother very narrowly escaped the diaboli-
cal massacre at Paris.

His youth was divided between a military life,
which the state of his country seemed to require,
and travels into foreign parts, where his stock of
knowledge gained an immense increase. In his
maturity, he was called to the perplexing cares of a
statesman, and found himself high in office and in
honor, at tlie court of Henry the Fourth of France.

Amidst the whelming vortex of public life, he
found time and attention for study and literary pur-

PHILIP DE MORNAY. 83

suits. In his 26th year he married, and pubhshed
the same year a moral treatise on " Life and Death,"
and at different periods completed, a number of
valuable literary works. His treatise " concerning
the church," was an explanation of the motives that
induced him to renounce the Romish for the Pro-
testant faith. Then followed his " Truth of the
Christian Religion ;" the " Just Procedure of those
of the Reformed Religion ;" and " The Eucharist."
The latter work occasioned the conference at Fon-
tainbleau, in the year 1600, between Du Plessis
and a celebrated Romish Cardinal, which so exalted
the reputation and popularity of Du Plessis, that he
was known by the title of the " Protestant Pope."
He produced in 1607, a work named "The Mystery
of Iniquity, or History of the Papacy," which traced
the gradual progress of ecclesiastical tyranny, com-
pared with Scripture prophecies.

About the same time, he published his " Exhor-
tation to the Jews, concerning the Messiah." But
the production that gained the most distinguished
rank in the literary and Christian world, was his
" Defence of the truth of the Christian Religion,"
in which he employs the weapons of reason and of
learning, with great force and skill against atheists,
epicureans, heathens, Jews, Mohammedans and
infidels. All his literary works exhibited marks of
genius, piety, and deep research, and were most of
them written in French first, and tlien translated in-
to Latin.

He spent the two last years of his life at his

barony of La Forest, in Poictou, in retirement,

study and devotion. In his last illness his mind

was greatly concerned for the distresses of the Pro-

3

34 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

testant church, and many of his seasons of devo-
tion were employed in suppHcating her deHverance.
When he was j-eminded of his great services to the
church, he replied, " alas ! what was there of mine
in the work 1 Say not it was /, but the gra^e of
God that was in me. I ask for nothing but mercy
— free mercy." He declared that his hope was
founded on the goodness of God in Jesus Christ,
who had been made unto him wisdom, righteous-
ness, sanctification and redemption. To one who
blessed God for giving him such peace and comfort
in death, he said earnestly, " / feel, I feel what I
speak."

On the morning of the day in which he died, he
repeated with great emphasis, " We hnoiv that if our
earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we
have a building of God, an house not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens." " Are you assured,"
said a friend, " of sharing in that eternal weight of
glory 1" " I am perfectly assured," answered he,
" by the demonstration of the Holy Spirit, more
powerfully, more clear and certain, than any demon-
stration of Euclid." As he secretly prayed, the
following broken sentences were gathered by sur-
rounding friends. " I fly, I fly to heaven. Let the
angels now carry me to the bosom of my Saviour."
As his last moments vanished, he said, " I know
that my Redeemer hveth, and with these eyes shall
I see him ;" repeating several times emphatically,
" hipse oculis.^'

Thus in the lively exercise of faith died this good
man, in 1623, great in honors, venerable in years,
and full of unspeakable peace.

SIR FRANCIS BACON.

Francis Bacon was the son of Sir Nicholas
Bacon, lord keeper of the great seal, in the reign of
Ehzabeth, and of Anna, the daughter of Sir Anthony
Cooke, illustrious both for her classical attainments
and domestic virtues. He was born in
1661. the year 1661, and so rapid werehis advan-
ces in the different branches of science,
that he was judged qualified for the university at the
age of 12 years, and placed at Trinity College,
Cambridge. Here he made such incredible progress
as to complete the whole circle of the liberal arts
before the age of 16, and to perceive, even at that
early period, the futility and imperfection of the
reigning philosophy, which afterwards, for the service
of mankind, he so efTectually exposed.

Leaving the university with the highest applause,
he was sent on his travels, and there acquired a deep,
and almost intuitive knowledge of the manners and
customs of other countries, the characters and views
of their princes and ministers, which he exemplified
in a paper on the sreneral state of Europe, pubhshed
before he attained his 19(h year. During the reign
of Elizabeth, the strong enmity of Sir Robert Cecil
prevented his being advanced at court ; hence he
prosecuted philosophical studies with energy, and

36 BIOGUAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

gave his time to the composition and publication of
learned works.

In the reign of the First James, he was called
from the retirement of his studies, to the disturbed
theatre of public life. In 1614, he was appointed
attorney general, — iu 1616, privy counsellor, — in
1617, lord keeper of the seals. But the rapidity of
his promotion excited envy in the ambitious, and
hatred in the disappointed rival ; and he began to
feel that the cares of high office, only opened the
way for more formidable causes of pain. He had
scarcely attained the dangerous summit of honor,
when he was hurled from it, with the impeachment
of his honesty, and with the accusation of error in
his character of chief judge. Different historians
have differently colored this event, according to their
particular attachments or prejudices ; but the candid
and judicious have believed him a martyr, more than
a criminal, and have seen in his sudden disgrace an
exemplification of Shakespeare's expressive senti-
ment,—

"Ah how wretched
Is that poor man who hangs on jjiinccs' favors !"

The reflecting mind may also perceive the hand
of God, taking him from those scenes which often
corrupt the noblest soul, compress it in the bonds of
the world, and ahenate it from its God. May we
not apply to him that beautiful passage from the
book of wisdom ? — " He was taken away suddenly,
lest wickedness should alter his understanding, or
deceit beguile his soul." Imprisonment gave him
leisure to review his past life, to confirm his princi-
ples and habits, to renew the fervor of his devotion.
From prison he passed to the shades of a literary

srR FRANCIS BACON. 37

and contemplative life, which he had always loved,
and from which he had been unfortunately called.
Experimental philosophy again allured his genius,
and employed his time, and his investigations contin-
ued to lead his mind powerfully to the First Cause
of the wonders and mysteries of Nature.

He observes in his works, that "a thorough in-
sight into philosophy makes a good believer, but a
smattering naturally produces a race of despicable
infidels. I" had rather believe all the fables in the
Legend, the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that- this
universal frame is without a mind: and therefore God
never wrought a miracle to convert an atheist, be-
cause his ordinary works confute atheism. A little
philosophy may incline men to atheism, but depth in
philosophy will bring them to religion : for while the
mind looks on second causes scattered, it must
sometimes rest in them, but when it beholds the
chain confederated and linked together, it must
needs fly to Providence and the Deity. The first
principle of right reason is religion, and after all my
studies and inquiries, I durst die with no other
thoughts than those of the Christian ReUgion."

While this active man waspursuing his researches,
and anxiously studying the mysteries in which Na-
ture has enveloped her operations, he was suddenly
taken ill, at Highgate, in the midst of his experi-
ments. He was conveyed to the house of the Earl
of Anmdel in the vicinity, and after a week's sick-
ness, breathed his last on the 9th of April, 1626.
So passed away a philosopher, — a mim of genius —
science — penetration — deep research ; — and what is
still more, — a Christian.

Addison, in vindication of tlie Christian religion,
3*

38 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

having enumerated some of the wisest men who had
believed and practised it, gives this testimony of
Bacon; "I shall in this paper only instance a man,
who for the greatness of his genius, and compass of
his knowledge, did honor to his age and country, I
had almost said to human nature itself. He pos-
sessed at once, all those extraordinary talents which
were divided among the great authors of antiquity ;
he had the sound, distinct knowledge of Aristotle,
with all the beautiful light graces emd embellishments
of Gicero : one does not know which to admire
most in his writings ; the strength of reason, force
of style, or brightness of imagination. I was infi-
nitely pleased to find among the works of this extra-
ordinary man, a prayer of his own composing, which
for elevation of thought, and piety of expression,
seems rather the devofion of an angel than a man."
But our present design is not to follow the flight
of his genius, or the depth of his philosophical re-
searches ; they are preserved for the wonder and
admiration of posterity. We come to view him in
his devotions ; for he possessed that spirit which
Yeason approves, and revelation purifies and exalts,
we come to view him as his own private i>age dis-
closes him, prostrate before the mercy seat, humbled
by the afflictions which lay'heavy upon him, yet sup-
ported by a sense of his integrity, and love of man-
kind, and proving that the experience of the Psalmist
was his also : "It is good for me to draw nigh unto
God."

Ji Prayer preserved among his Manuscripts.
"Most Gracious Lord God, my Merciful Father,

SIR. FRANCIS BACON. 89

my Creator, my Redeemer, and my Comforter.
Thou, 0 Lord, searchest the depths and secrets of
all hearts ; thou acknowledgest the upright of heart,
thou judgest the hypocrite : thou ponderest man's
thoughts and doings as in a balance ; thou measur-
est their intentions as with a line ; vanity and crooked
ways cannot be hidden from thee. Remember, 0
Lord, how thy servant has walked before thee ;
remember what I have sought, and what has .been
principal in my intentions. I have loved thine
assembUes, I have mourned for the divisions of thy
church, I have delighted in the brightness of thy
sanctuary ; the vine which thy right hand hath planted
in this nation, I have ever prayed unto thee that it
might have the first and the latter rain, and that she
might stretch her branches to the sea and to the
flood. The state and bread of the poor and op-
pressed, have been precious in mine eyes ; I have
hated all cruelty and hardness of heart : I have,
though a despised weed, procured the good of all
men. If any have been enemies, I thought not of
them ; neither hath the sun set upon my displeasure,
but I have been as a dove, free from all superfluity
of maliciousness. Thousand have been my sins,
and ten thousand my transgressions ; but thy sancti-
fications .have remained with me, and mine heart,
through thy grace, hath been an miquenched coal on
thine altar.

0 Lord my strength! — I have since my youth
met with thee in all ray ways, by thy fatherly com-
passions, by thy comfortable chastisements, by thy
visible providences. As thy favors have increased
upon me, so have thy corrections ; so as thou hast
always been near me, 0 Lord ; and ever as my

40 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

worldly blessings were exalted, so secret daits from
thee have pierced me; and when I ha\e ascended
before men, I have descended in liuniiliation before
thee.

And now, when I thought most of peace and
honor, thine hand is heavy upon nie, and hath hum-
bled me according to thy former loving kindness,
keeping me still in thy school, not as an alien, but a
child. Just are thy judgments upon me for my
sins, which are more in number than the sands of the
sea, but have no proporlion to thy mercies : for
what are the sands of the sea 1 Karth, heavens,
and all these, are nothing to thy mercies ! I confess
before thee, that I am debtor to thee for the precious
talent of thy gifts and graces, wiiich I have neither
put into a napkin, or put out as I ought, to exchan-
gers, where it might have made best profit ; but
misspent it in things for which I was least fit ; so I
may truly say, my soul hath been a stranger in the
house of her pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me,
0 Lord, for my tiaviour's sake ; and receive n.e
unto thy bosom, or guide me in thy nay."'

JOIIX MILTOJT.

John Milton, a most illustrious English Poet,
was descended from an ancient family. His g^:and-
father, a zealous Papist, disinherited his only son,
the father of our poet, for embracing the Protestant
faith. He took refuge in London, and obtained the
employment of a scrivener ; and in that

1608. place, on the 9th of December, 1608,
was bom his first son, John Milton.

After receiving a domestic education, he was re-
moved to St. Paul's School, where by indefatigable
application he made great progress in classical
learning ; and from the 1 2th year of his age devot-
ed the greatest part of the night to study. In his
16th year he was admitted to Christ's College, Cam-
bridge, where he continued seven years, strengthen-
ing the foundation which he had previously laid, and
erecting thereon a superstructure which should con-
tain the whole circle of arts and sciences. He had
composed some beautiful Latin Poems, previous to
his entrance at the University ; and the greatest part
of his compositions in that language, were produced
during the period of his continuance there. After
his emancipation he returned to his father, and
prosecuted his studies for 5 years with unparalleled
assiduity and success, and read with renewed atten-

42 BIOGUAPHV OF P[OL'S PERSONS.

tion all the Greek and Latin authors. His father
had de.signed him for the church ; but hiy mind had
been so disgusted with the controversies of difterent
sects, tliat this intention was frustrated.

After the death of his mother, he began his trav-
els, through France and Italy, with the spirit of a
studious inquirer, seeking to gain from the customs
and curiosities of other countries something to in-
crease his cherished stock of knowledge. He
gained many admirers, particularly at Florence,
where his literary attainments were highly applaud-
ed. In his second journey to Rome, he was in-
formed that the Jesuits were incensed against him,
for the freedom of his discourse on religious sub-
jects, and was cautioned to beware of their malice.
" I have made it a rule," said Milton, " never to start
a religious subject in this country, but if I were
questioned concerning my faith, never to dissemble,
whatever I might suffer." " He had," says a writer
of celebrity, " a soul above disguise and dissimula-
tion, and was never ashamed or afraid to vindicate
the truth ; for he had in him the spirit of an old
martyr."

His purpose was to have visited Sicily and
Greece, but receiving intelligence of the civil con-
tentions in his own country, he felt it inconsistent
with his principles to continue abroad, even for the
improvement of his mind, while his countrvmen
were struggling for liberty at home. He returned,
and engaged ardently in the cause of republicanisin,
for his powerful and independent mind was di:<gust-
ed with the yoke and trappings of royalty.

He undertook, also, tlie education of a small
number ot young men, and like many other great

JOHN MILTON. 43

characters, delighted in impressing on the unformed
mind, the principles of knowledge and virtue. His
method of education was as much superior to the
{)edantry and jargon of common schooLs, as his ge-
nius was superior to that of a common schoolmas-
ter. His letter to Mr. Samuel Hartlib, elucidates
in some measure his own method and practice.

The controversies of the times began to engage
him, and in the course of the year 1641, he wrote
and published, a treatise of Reformation, in two vol-
umes; prelatical Episcopacy; the Reason of Church
Government urged against Prelacy ; and animad-
versions upon a work of Bishop Hall. When we
consider that these books were all completed, with-
in the short circle of a year — of a year given also
to the instruction of young persons in the Lktin,
Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, Italian and
PVench languages, with the sciences of mathemat-
ics and astronomy, we are astonished at what his
diligence accomplished, and amazed at what his
mind could contain.

In 1 643 he married ; but whatever were his en-
gagements, literature and poetry were not long ab-
sent from his thoughts. In 1645 a collection of his
Latin and Knglisli poems appeared, in which the
Allegro, Pcnseroso, and some others were first pub-
lished. Controversies, theological and political,
with many adversaries, particularly the celebrated
Salmasius, employed much of his time. After
the tragical death of Charles First, a book was pub-
lished by one of his adherents, entitled The Royal
Image : which excited greater emotion and com-
miseration in the minds of the people, than the
King himself did, while alive. Milton answered it
with energy and success, entitling his work, " Ico-

44 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

noclastes" or, The Image Breaker, the surname of
some Greek Emperors, who in their zeal against
idolatry, broke all superstitious images to pieces.

But to enumerate and give the character of his
controversial works would be an impossibility, and
I cannot but regret that a man of his talents and
erudition, should employ so much of his time in
compositions of local value, which though they are
strongly marked with the spirit of the times, and the
power of a great genius, do not essentiallylnstruct
or benefit posterity.

He had begun a History of England, deduced
from the earliest period, but proceeded no farther
than the Norman Conquest ; a call to the office of
Latin Secretary for foreign affairs put a partial check
upon his private studies. A personal calamity also
afflicted him ; his eye sight had long been weak and
decaying, while his intense studies only increased the
malady. The sight of his left eye first failed him,
and about the year 1648, he became totally blind.
In a letter to his physician, marlung the progress of
this affliction, he says — " a constant and settled
darkness is before me, as well by day as by night ;
a direct blackness, or else spotted and woven with
ash-color, is used to pour itself on me, except now
and then, the eye rolling itself a little, seems to ad-
mit, I know not what little smallness of light as
through a chink." Or to use his pathetic words —

" Hail, holy light — Offspring of Heaven! — but thou

Revisit'st not these eves, that roll in vain

To find thy piercing ray and find no dawn.

Seasons return, but not to me return

Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,

Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,

Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine."

JOHN MILTON. 46

Other afflictions also awaited him. The excru*
ciatiiig pains of the gout completed the ruin of his
constitution, and led him to the tomb. He sulFered
great jiecuniary losses in the civil wars, and after
the re-establishment of monarchy lost his office of
Latin Secretary, and narrowly escaped imprison-
ment and trial, for his attachment to republican prin-
ciples. He met also with domestic vexations ; his
first wife disliking his retired and studious Ufe, went
again to the gaiety of her father's house, refusing to
remain with him ; but at length returned of her own
accord, and obtained reconciliation. The second,
whose sweetness and goodness he commends, died
in a few months after marriage ; and the third, who
survived him, was a woman of a violent spirit

But no trouble, pecuniary, domestic or personal,
could turn his attention or his love from his studies ;
for his mind was too eager to be diverted, and too
strong to be subdued. Afler the Restoration he
spent the remainder of his life in retirement, and
closely applied himself to finish Paradise Lost, which
he began to reduce to its present form in 1655, and
published in 1 677. Poetry, music and mathemat-
ics, were his favorite amusements ; and he excelled
in the studies of logic, history and divinity. He
read in many languages, and was complete master
of the Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, Ital-
ian, French and Spanish. He had a quick appre-
hension, a sublime imagination, a strong memory, a
piercing judgment, a wit always ready and adapted
to the occasion.

It was his belief that his loss of sight added vigor
to his mental iiiculties, by turning his attention from
frivolous objects and concentrating tlic energies of
4

46 BIOGRAPHY or I'lOUS PERSOMS.

his soul. He had the advantage of a pious educa-
tion, and all his writings, whether poetry or prose,
whether written in youth, maturity or age, deeply
evidence a religious turn of mind. He studied and
admired the Holy Scriptures above all books what-
ever, expressed the profoundest reverence for the
Deity in all his words and actions, and was full of
the spirit of religion.

While we contemplate the mental excellences of
men,, we naturally form some image or associate
some idea of their i)ersonal appearance. From a
very ancient writer I accordingly extract this des-
cription. " In youth, Milton was esteemed very
beautiful, and while he was a student in Cambridge,
went by the name of the Lady of Chiist's College.
He had a very fine skin, and fresh complexion ;
his hair was of a light brown, and parting on the
forehead, hung down in cmls waving upon his
shoulders ; his features were exact and regular ;
his vtice agreeable and musical ; his deport-
ment erect and manly. lie was middle sized, and
well proportioned, neither tall or short, lean or cor-
pulent ; strong and active in his younger years, and
though ever afflicted with severe head aches, and
finally with blindness and gout, was still a comely
and well lookhig man to the last. His eyes were
of a light blue color, and after he lost the sight of
them, which happened in his 43d year, they still ap-
peared without t-pot or blemish.

The number ot' his written works was 40, many
in the Latin language, and some consisting of seve-
ral volumes. His sonnets, epigrams and letters are
also numerous, tuid the immense proportion of
writing done iu his office of Latin Secretary for
foreign affairs, during (he reign of Cromwell and

JOHN Mir.TON. 47

the CommonwcaHh, it is impossible to calculate. —
But intense habits of study, and the crnol rava-
ges of the gout, were daily, weakening his hold
upon life. In his 66th year, on the 10th of No-
vember, 1674, he died by a quiet and silent expira-
tion, without a groan, a struggle or a sigh.

Three daughters by his first wife survived him ;
the only chikl of his second wife died with her, and
his third had none. His only son died an infant,
and his last descendant, the youngest daughter of
Milton's youngest, was found some time in the last
century, living in great obscurity and poverty. The
bounty of a generous people made the decline of her
life comfortable, from veneration to the memory of
her grandfather ; but his line is now wholly extinct.

Of all the voluminous writings of Milton, that
of Paradise Lost, has the most greatly contributed
to establish his fame, and gain the admiration of
posterity. He has scorned the aid of other poets,
and piirsued a tract of originality, borne on the wings
of his own strong and aspiring genius. Dr. John-
son says, " from his cotemporaries, he neither
courted or received support ; there is in his writings,
nothing by which the pride of other authors might
be gratified, or their favor gained ; no exchange of
praise, no solicitation of support. His great works
were performed under discountenance and in blind-
ness, but difficulties vanished at his touch ; he was
bom for whatever is arduous." Hayley, one of his
biographers, says, " Milton was perhaps of all mor-
tals the least selfish ; he contended for religion
without seeking emoluments from the church, and
for the state without aiming at civil or military em-
ployment. There is one rjfiaracteristic of this great

48 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

man which ought to bo considered as the chief source
of his happiness and fame ; that is, his early and
perpetual attachment to religion.

"It must gratify every Christian to reflect, that the
man of our country most eminent for energy of
mind, for intenseness of application, and frankness
and intrepidity in asserting what he believed to be the
cause of truth, was so constantly devoted to Chris-
tianity, that he appears to have made the Bible not
only the rule of his conduct, but the director of his
genius. His poetry flowed from the Scripture, as
if his unparalleled poetical powers had been ex-
pressly given him by Heaven, for the purpose of
imparting to religion such lustre as the' most splen-
did of human faculties could bestow."

The majesty and sublimity of this great work,
and its uncommon success, may be imputed to the
manner and perseverance of the poet's preparation.
Deep reflection added solidity to his genius, constant
study of the holy Scriptures elevated and gave it
sublimity, fervent prayer strengthened, purified,
perfected his design. Think not that this is
unfounded conjecture, and that without authority
we add him to the number of those who have prac-
tised the duty of prayer and experienced its efiica-
cy. Read his own unequivocal testimony, given in
the " Reason of Church Government," published
in 1641. He there promises with calm confidence to
undertake something which may be of use and
honor to his country. " This," says he, " is not to
be obtained but by devout prayer to that Eternal
Spirit, that can enrich with all utterance and know-
ledge, and send out his seraphim with the hallowed
fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of

JOHN MILTON. 49

tvhom he pleases. To this must be added industri-
ous and select reading, steady observation, and in-
sight into all seemly and generous arts and affairs ;
till which in some measure be compassed, I refuse
not to sustain this expectation." Dr. Johnson
remarks, that " from a promise like this, at once
fervid, pious and rational, might be expected the
Paradise Lost." Thus setting himself apart by
prayer and meditation, as for a holy work, he ob-
tained grace from on high, with the spirit of utter-
ance and wisdom, so that he might live after death,
in the memory and admiration of men. In almost
every part of this sublime poem, we trace the sen-
timents and the fervor of a Christian, and on the first
page he solicits the aid of the Holy Spirit, that aid
which he had so often entreated in the silence of
the closet, and the solemnity of secret devotion.

"But chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer
Above all temples, tlie upright heart and pure,
Instruct me.

What in me is dark
Illumine : what is low raise and support :
That to the hei<jht of this great argument
I may asseit eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to man."

Also in his third book, after a feeling allusion to
his melancholy state of blindness, he invokes that
divine Light which shineth from abovs and enlight-
eneth the darkness of man's heart.

"But thickened clouds and ever during dark
Surround me : — from the cheerful ways of man
Cutoff: fair Nature's works expunged and rased
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
So much the rather, thou Celestial Light,
4*

60 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

Sliine inward : and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate. Tliere plant eyes, nil mist from thence
Purge and disperse, that 1 may see and tell
Ot" things invisible to mortal sight."

He implies that his prayer had been successful,
and that the work to him was divested of labor, for
as if inspired, the thoughts and expressions were
poured upon him in their full tide of melody. He
speaks of the assistance given him, under the figure
of a celestial patroness, who he says,

" Dictates to Itim slumbering, and inspires
Easy his luiprcmeditatcd verse."

" I sing with voice unchanged,
To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days.
On evil days though iallcn, and evd tongues :
In darkne.-s, and with dangers eojupassed round
And solitude : yrt not alone, while thou
Visit'st my shuiihers nightly, or when morn
Purples (lie cast. Slill govern tlu)U my song.
For thou art heavenly."

His high idea of the efficacy of prayer, may be
drawn from the circumstance of his rej)rescnling
our first parents in deep and contrite sujjplication,
after their act cf disobedience, and his supposing
the Saviour to intercede for them, and even the Al-
mighty to listen and to relent.

" How much more if we pray him, will his ear
Be open ; and his heart to pity incline.
So spake our Father penitent, nor Eve
F'elt less remorse. They forthw ith to the place
Re])airing where he judged them, prostrate fell
Before him reverent, and hoth confessed
Huml)ly their faults, and jiardon begged with tears
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from contrite hearts m sign

JOHN MILTON. 51

Of sorrow uafci|incd and humiliation metk.
Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the mercy seat above
Prevenient grace descending had removed
The stony (torn their hearts, that sighs now breathed
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspired, and winged for heaven with speedier flight
Than loudest oratory ; in they passed
Dimcnsionless through heavenly doors, tlien clad
With incense where the golden altar fumed,
By their great intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fatiier's throne ; then the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began."

SIR MATTHEW HALE.

Sir Matthew Hale, lord chief justice of En-
gland, was born in Gloucestershire, in the

1609. year 1609; the son of a barrister, eminent
for integrity and piety. Before he was
six years old, he lost both his parents, but by the
care of a judicious guardian, great attention was
paid to his education. At Oxford he for awhile
distinguished himself by his proficiency, until some
strolling players took up their abode near the uni-
versity, and his fondness for theatrical amusements
partially stifled his affection for study. He imbibed
also a strong inclination for a military life, and it
was with difficulty that a valuable friend persuaded
him to correct the rashness of his choice, and em-
brace the profession of the law. After his entrance
at Lincoln's Inn, his former love of knowledge re-
turned,'and his application was so unremitting that he
studied fifteen hours in a day, for many years. In
early youth, his fondness for company led him into
many levities and extravagances, but this propensity
was subdued by a circumstance which made a deep
impression on his mind during the remainder of his
life.

Having joined a party of young men of his ac-
quaintance, one of them, through excess of wine,

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 63

fell down, apparently dead at their feet. Young
Hale was so affected on the occasion, that he im-
mediately retired to another room, and shutting the
door, fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly to Go<l
that his friend might be restored to life, and that he
might be pardoned for giving countenance to such
excess. At the same time he made a solemn vow
that he would never again mingle in such pursuits,
or "drink a health" while he lived. The life of
his friend was restored, and he ever after religiously
observed his vow. There appeared an entire change
in his disposition ; he forsook all dissipated com-
pany, and strictly divided his time between the
studies of his profession, and the duties of religion.

He became remarkable for a grave and exemplary
deportment, great moderation of temper, and reli-
gious tenderness of sph-it, was frequent in secret
prayer, fasting, and giving alms, and was so far from
being lifted up by spiritual pride, that the remem-
brance of his past infirmities frequently led him to
express a fear, "lest he should be left to do some
enormous thing, which might cast a reproach upon
his profession, and give great advantage to impious
men to blaspheme the name of God."

He was exemplary in family religion, performed the
service of daily worship, and was so attached to the
public ordinances of the Sabbath that for 36 years
he was never absent from church. The following
short extract from a diary that he regularly kept,
shows the piety of his mind, and his solicitude to
make tlie best use of his time.

Momino;.
1. "To IHl up the heart in thankfulness to God
for renewing my life.

54 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

2. To renew my covenant with God in Christ ;
first by acts of faith receiving Christ, and rejoicing
in the height of that relation : secondly by resolving
to be one of his people, and to do him allegiance.

3. Adoration and Prayer.

Day Employment.

1. In our ordinary calling to serve God. It is a
service to Christ, though ever so mean. Here ob-
serve faithfulness, diligence, cheerfulness. Be care-
ful not to overcharge myself with more business
than I can bear.

2. Spiritual employment. Mingle somewhat of
God's immediate service with the business of the
day.

If alone.

1. Beware of wandering, vain, sensual thoughts :
fly from thyself rather than entertain them.

Let thy solitary thoughts be profitable. View
the evidences of thy salvation, the state of thy soul,
the coming of Christ, and thine own mortality ; this
will make thee humble and watchful.

Company.

Do 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.

Evenino;.
Cast up the accoimts of the day. [f there was
aught amiss, beg pardon : resolve to be more vigi-
lant. If tho\i hast (lone well, bless iho mercy and

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 56

grace of God which have suppUed thee." — Thus
did this excellent niaii watch his spiritual concerns,
at the same time that he was making progress m the
sciences, and becoming a greater proficient in the
law than any of his cotemporaries. In his office of
judge he conducted himself with the strictest integ-
rity, and the motives that influenced him were foun-
ded on the oidy firm basis — that of piety. The
excellence of his resolution may be seen by a short
extract from one of his papers, entitled " Things to
be had in continual remembrance. — That iji the
administration of justice I am entrusted for God, the
king and the country ; and therefore that it be done
uprightly, dehberately, 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 no countenance to them,
however provoked. That I be not biassed by com-
passion to the poor, or favor to the rich, in point of
justice. That popular applause, or court dishke,
have no influence in any thing I do in the distribution
of justice. That I be not solicitous about what men
thuik or say, so long as I keep myself exactly accor-
dant to the rules of justice."

He raised the reputation of the court by his im-
partial administration, diligence fmd exactness, while
ho supported the character of a true Christian, by
temperance, charity and hiunility. He reserved a
tenth part of all he obtained for works of benevolence,
and in an age when the most profuse entertainments
were fashionable, never attended any, or gave any
except to the poor ; literally fulfilling that command
of our Saviour, "When thou makest a feast, call the
poor, and the lame, the halt, and the blind." Ho

56 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

would never receive the smallest present from those
whose causes were before him, or listen to private
addresses from the greatest personages in any matter
where justice was concerned. One of the highest
peers of England, once went to his chamber, and
informed him, " that having a suit in law to be tried
before him, he came to acquaint him with its circum-
stances, that he might the better understand it, when
it should be heard in court ;" but he interrupted him
with the declaration, "that he never received any
information of causes but in open court, where both
parties might be heard alike." The duke departed,
greatly displeased, and complained to Charles Se-
cond : but his majesty commanded him "to be con-
tent, for he himself should not have been treated
better, if he had gone thus to solicit him in any of
his own causes."

Among the particular friends of Sir Matthew
Hale, was the celebrated Selden, who induced him
to engage in the whole circle of the sciences, for his
apprehension was quick, his memory tenacious, and
his application indefatigable. To his professional
knowledge he united an acquaintance with mathe-
matics, anatomy, surgery, physic, experimental
philosophy, history, chronology, and divinity. It
would seem incredible that amidst all these studies,
he should find time for composition, yet he com-
pleted fourteen different works, many of them of con-
siderable length, and all bearing the stamp of unaf-
fected piety.

His "Contemplations, moral and divine," are
deservedly admired by every friend of experimental
Christianity. "True religion," he says there,
"teaches the soul an high veneration for Almighty
God; asiaccrc and upright walking as iallic presence

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 67

of the invisible, all-seeing One. It ninkcs a man
truly love, honor, obey him, and be careful to know
what his will is. It renders the heart thankful to
him, as Creator, Redeemer, Benefactor. It makes
a man entirely depend on him, seek for guidance,
protection, direction, 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 dare not entertain
any, which are unbecoming the presence of that God
to whom all thoughts are legible. It crushes all
pride and haughtihess, both in the heart and carriage,
and gives an humble state of mind belbre God and
man. It regulates the passions, and brings them
into due moderation. It gives a man a right esti-
mate of this present world, and sets his heart and
hopes above it, so that he neveV loves it more than it
deserves. It makes the wealth and glory of this
world, high places and great preferments, but of little
consequence to him ; so that he is neither covetous,
nor ambitious, nor over-solicitous concerning their
advantages. It makes him value the love of God
and the peace of his own conscience, above all the
wealth and honor in the world, and to be very diligent
in preserving them. He performs all his duties to
God with sincerity and humility ; and while he lives
on earth, his conversation, liis hope, his treasures
are in heaven ; and he endeavors to walk suitably
to such an hope."

Speaking of the divine and invisible guidance
which is often granted to the prayers of men, he
remarks, "Though this secret direction of Alniiglily
God is principally seen in matters relating to the
good of the soul, yet in the concerns of tliis life, a
good man, fearing God and begging his direction,
5

5S BIOGRAPHY OF PIOLS PERSONS.

will very often, if not at all times, find it I can cull
my own experience to witness, that even in the tem-
poral affairs of my whole life, I have never been
disappointed of the best direction, when I have in
humility and sincerity implored it."

This eminently virtuous man enjoyed almost
uninterrupted health, till the 66th year of his age,
when he was affected with an indisposition which
impaired his strength and forced him to retire from
the cares of his office. During a painful sickness
he exhibited the most exemplary patience, and per-
fect resignation, and enjoyed the free use of his rea-
son and understanding till the last moment ; a favor
for which he had often and earnestly prayed. He
continued to retire daily for his studies and devotions,
and when he was unable to move, would .have his
servants carry him to the place where he had been
accustomed to address God in secret. As the win-
ter came on, he saw with great joy his time of deliver-
ance approaching, and his earnest desire after a
more glorious state was tempered witli the meekest
submission to the will of God. He had lived a life
of prayer, and, if it may be so expressed, he died a
death of prayer ; for when his voice was so sunk
that it could not be heard, his friends perceived by
the constant lifling up of his eyes and hands, what
was the employment of his departing soul. He
struggled not, and seemed to have no pang in his
last moments, but breathed out his pious spirit in
peace,on the 25th of December, 1676, aged 67 years.

"Siicli was thy lif(3, and sucli thy death, — in whom
Our British theme has gloried with just cause —
Iniaiortal liale ! for deep diseerrimeut prais'd,
And sound integrity; — not more liian faui'd
For sanctity olmannera undttil'd." — Cowi'tR's Task.

REV. ROWLAND NEVIT.

Rowland Nevit was bom in the year 1609, at

an obscure parish in England, educated at the school

of Shrewsbury, and while a youth admit-

1609. ted Fellow of the University of Oxford.
His proficiency in study well merited the
honors which were there conferred upon him, and
his pious inclinations led him to the clerical profes-
sion, to which he was ordained, in his 26th year. He
was first presented to the vicarage of Staunton, and
afterwards to that of Oswestry, where he labored as
a faithful and zealous minister, and strove by his
discourses, conversation and prayers, to impress
the minds, and benefit the souls of his flock.

When the people of his charge were visited by
the plague, and almost all who were able to remove
might be seen flying in every direction, he continu-
ed with the sick and dying remnant, comforted, in-
structed, prayed for them, and Heaven not only pre-
served his life, but added an apparent blessing to
his exertions.

With many other faithful ministers he was silen-
ced by the act of Nonconformity, but continued
with his people until his death, rendering them eve-
ry service in his power. He was peculiarly atten-
tive to the several duties of family religion, and to

60 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

the pious education of his children, and continued
an example to the believers, in " life, in conversa-
tion, in doctrine, in spirit, in faith, in purity." He
deeply lamented the divisions of the church, and
the intemperate controversies of many sects, and
though his conscience would not suffer him to read
forms of prayer to his congregation, his love of
peace prompted him often to join with those who did.

In his conduct to his friends, he was unusually
tender and affectionate, and it was observed by
them, that he was frequently in ejaculatory prayer,
in the midst of the common scenes and employ-
ments of life. The service of the ministry was
his delight, and though his strength was easily ex-
hausted, he would solemnly appeal to his Maker,
that " if he was wearied in his service, he could ne-
ver be weary of it." Though subject to the fre-
quent infirmities of a delicate constitution, he used
to assert " that he was never better than in the pul-
pit, and there he could wish to die."

When he began to feel the agonies of dissolving
nature, a friend reminded him that he would soon re-
ceive his reward, but he rephed humbly, — " it is all
free grace." To his children who surrounded him,
he gave the advice and admonition of a dying father,
praying solemnly for each, that " the Mediator's
blessing might rest upon them," and adding this
weighty command, " I charge you all, that you meet
me at the right hand of Christ, at the great day." —
Just before he departed, he said, " Go forth, my
soul, — go forth to meet thy God ; — it is now done,
— Lord Jesus, come quickly," and thus expired at
his own house in Oswestry, in his 66th year, on the
8th day of December, 1676.

REV. FRANCIS TALLENTS.

Francis Tallents was a native of a small town

in Derbyshire, (Eng.) His family was originally

of French extraction, and his parents, who

1609. were strirtly rehgious, both died when
their children were very young. Six or-
phans stood around the bier on which the guides of
their infancy were laid, and the promise was fulfilled
t) them, which they were then too young to realize^
" when my father and my mother forsake me, then
the Lord will take me up." They had an uncle, a
respectable clergyman, who adopted the orphans as
his own, and faithfully executed the part of a tender
and provident father. Two of the sons he educa-
ted liberally, and the eldest, who is the subject of
these memoirs, so distinguished himself at the pre-
paratory schools, that one of his instrnctoi^ wrote
to his uncle, that " he was indeed a golden talenU*

At 16 years of age, he was sent to the Cambridge
University, and from thence removed to Magdalen
College, to be tutor of the sons of the Earl of Suf-
folk. Soon after his entrance here he became seri-
ously impressed, and thoroughly reconciled to the
way of life recommended in the Scriptures, and
though he had strong temptations to infidelity, was
enabled to be victorious, and to maintain the true

62 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

faith. In his 23d year he began his travels into
foreign parts, having nnder his care, the sons of the
Earl of Suffolk, and while he improved his mind by
the observation of the varying customs of men, he
was so far from being corrupted by their wickedness
or infidelity, that he declared on his return, that
" what he had heard and seen abroad had served to
confirm him in the Protestant religion."

At his return from his tour of two years, he be-
came an approved teacher in Magdalen College,
and had the honor of assisting to fonn the minds of
many who were afterwards distinguished as eminent
scholars. He occasionally preached during his
residence at the University, and continued at that
seat of literature, receiving and imparting know-
ledge, until he reached his 33d year, when he quit-
ted his tutorship, to be ordained Pastor of St.
Mary's Church in Shrewsbury. He was observed
to lay aside the technical terms, and lofty style of a
student, and though he had been 20 years an acade-
mician, and conversant equally with the abstnase and
refined parts of science, he studied to accommodate
himself to the meanest capacity, and to preach
plainly of him who was crucified.

Mr. ^axter in his memoirs says of him, " he was
a good scholar, and a blameless divine, most emi-
nent for extraordinary prudence, moderation, and
peaceable deportment towards all." Soon after his
settlement at Shrewsbury he married, but his belov-
ed partner survived only a short time, and his only
child whom he educated at Cambridge, caused him
great imeasiness by his unprincipled excesses, and
died in early life.

To these deep afihctions was added his eject-

REV. FRANCIS TALLENTS. 63

mcnt from the ministry, by the act of Uniformity to
which his conscience would not suffer him to ac-
cede, but prompted him rather to resign an employ-
ment which he loved, and which was his only de-
pendance for earthly subsistence. Yet was there
nothing bigoted or morose in his non-conformity,
for he attended the ministry of those who did con-
form, and used no irritable or improper compari-
sons. He kept the anniversary of the day in which
he was silenced, by secret prayer and fasting, and
styled it " a day to bring to remembrance."

Finding himself divested of employment, he was
prevailed upon to make a second time the tour of
France as tutor to two young gentlemen — Bosca-
wen and Hampden. \N hile at Paris he published
n large treatise entitled " a description of the Ro-
man Catholic religion." During his absence he
carefully recorded in his journal all that was worthy
of notice, customs — curiosities — conversation and
character of learned men ; yet though this trans-
cript was both interesting and instructive, he never
could be persuaded to give it to the world. Soon
after his return he published his " View of Univer-
sal history," which was first commenced for the use
of his collegiate students. About this time he suf^
fered from the unwarrantable oppression of the
" Five Mile Act," which forbade all non-conformist
ministers to approach within five miles of any
church in which they had formerly officiated. He
had consequently removed into an obscure part of
the country, but his wife going to Shrewsbury upon
business, was suddenly taken ill and died there.

Moved by the strong impulse of mourning affec-
tion, to go and pay the last sad duties to her re-

64 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

mains, he was brutally apprehended and sent prison-
er to Chester Castle. After his release he found
it necessary to live in privacy and retirement, and
to suffer in silence. When a degree of liberty was
granted to the dissenters, he accepted it joyfully,
and returned to his people, who received him ten-
derly.

During the exercise of his professional duties,
he found time to compose and publish several
works, and his last was "The history of Schism,
for the promotion of Christian moderation, and the
Communion of Saints." This book, though writ-
ten at the advanced age of 85, shows no traces of
decayed intellect, but is the result of much learning,,
aided by the reflections of a mind deeply tinctured
with piety and charity.

Notwithstanding his great age, he experienced
no sickness, except the gradual loss of strength, un-
til three weeks before his death, when the decay of
nature became more apparent. He then charged
his friends not to pray for his life, but that he might
be enabled patiently to wait for his change. When
the exertions of his friends once restored him from
a severe attack of faintness which he had hoped
would have been his last, he said, "Why did you not
let a poor old man go away quietly ? Here I lie,
waiting — waiting. Yet I bless God that I am more
full of comfort and joy than 1 am able to express."
He was almost constantly in prayer, and on the day
of his death seemed to be reviving, but at 9 o'clock
ill the evening, sweetly sunk into his last sleep at
the age of 89.

REV. SAMUEL STONE.

1610.
Among those religious persons who were moved
to emigrate from Europe, and cast into the mass of
this New World's population, the leaven of sancti-
fied talents, and confirmed virtue, wsis the Rev.
Samuel Stone. He was a native of Hartford, in
England, educated at Emmanuel College, in the
University of Cambridge, and became the first
minister of Hartford, in Connecticut. He was
originally settled there, as colleague with the Rev.
Mr. Hooker, in company with whom, he led a party
of emigrants from Cambridge, Massachusetts, in
June, 1636, hoping to join a colony which had been
commenced on the banks of the Connecticut river,
in the autumn of the preceding year.

They travelled more than one hundred miles
through a trackless wilderness, over mountains,
morasses and streams, with no other guide than the
compass, and no covering from night or tempest,
but the heavens. About one hundred individuals
attempted this pilgrimage. The more hardy of the
men carried in packs upon their shoulders, the prin-
cipal part of their property ; the remainder drove
before them the cattle on which they depended for
subsistence.

More than a fortnight elapsed ere this perilous

66 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

journey was completed, for among the colonists
were many who in their native clime were accustom-
ed to ease and affluence, women in delicate health,
and tender babes who required shelter and care.
The wife of the Rev. Mr. Hooker was at that
time so much indisposed, as to be borne in a rude
litter, upon the shoulders of firmer travellers.

The efforts of the holy men who led this suffer-
ing band, were well employed in strengthening their
faith, and encouraging them to mingle with the
spirit of endurance, cheerful praise to their preser-
ver. The thickets which had heard only the howl
of the savage beasts, became familiar with other
sounds, as the Christians proceeded, for

" They shook the depths of the desert's gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer."

New trials awaited them after their arrival at the
place of their destination. The process of clear-
ing and rendering an uncultivated country habita-
ble, is always laborious and subject to many obstruc-
tions. Their sufferings diu"ing the first winter were
so extreme, from want of food, and exposure to cold,
from which their frail dwellings were insufficient to
protect them, that numbers attempted to regain the
settlements which they had left in Massachusetts, —
and some of these left their emaciated and frozen
carcasses in the intervening wilderness. — But the
majority remained patient and faithful during their
time of trial. Returning Spring enabled them to
commit such seeds as they could procure, to the lit-
tle spots of earth, from whence they had painfully
exterminated the lofty trees, and clinging brambles.

Almost the only giain which was at fust cultivat-

REV. SAMUEL STONE. 67

ed was Indian Com, and as no mills could be ob-
tained it was pounded in mortars, to produce a
coarse kind of bread, — which to those accustomed
to the wheat of Europe, was neither palatable nor
salutarj^ ; so that if disease did not spring from ab-
solute famine, it was often nourished in delicate
83'stems, by an uncongenial diet. In addition to
these calamities, the Indians who bordered closely
upon tliem, became infected with dislike and jeal-
ousy, and the Httle colony, which was already di-
minishing, by the effects of a severe climate, and
the pressure of want, was threatened with all the
horrors of savage warfare. But a resolution equal
to every exigence sprang up among them, whose
foundation was a steadfast piety.

It becomes us now to see what part was borne by
Mr. Stone, during the darkness which rested upon
his people. Naturally possessed of great firmness
and cheerfulness, he endeavored to breathe his own
spirit into the desponding, and to establish their foot-
steps upon the rock of Zion. in preaching, instruc-
tion from house to house, and visits to the afilicted,
he was unwearied. His very countenance and
manner had a consoling influence upon the sorrow-
ful, for he had adopted it as a maxim, that many
who know not religion, might be led to love it, if
they saw that it was consistent with cheerfulness.
The benevolence which he exercised towards all,
was guarded by the strictest observance of personal
duties.

In prayer he was frequent and fervent, and kept
many days of Ikstitig; by which he thought his
humility was increased, and the power of the world
broken. In the observance of the Sabbath he was

68 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

truly exemplary, and seemed to carry from it through-
out the week, an elevation of soul, arising from
communion with God. He commenced his prepara-
tion for this holy season, early on the preceding
evening, and after contemplation and prayer, was
accustomed to call his family together, and repeat to
them the sermon which he had prepared for the
ensuing day. This furnished him with an opportu-
nity of adapting subsequent conversation to their
instruction on those passages which seemed most to
interest or affect them, while by giving him a more
thorough knowledge of his discourse, it enabled him
by alteration and addition, to render it more lucid,
pungent, or practical.

He was considered uncommonly able and acute in
argument, and as the colony rose from the weakness
of infancy, to the accession of strength and wealth,
his society was courted by men of learning and
taste. Yet he knew well how to simphfy his style
to the humblest capacity, when circumstances re-
quired, and sometimes the untutored Indian wept
and trembled, at hearing from his Ups the first sounds
of salvation. Thus he continued abundant in labor,
and faithful in doctrine, fourteen years, as colleague
with the Rev. Mr. Hooker, and sixteen after his
death.

The approach of the destroyer of his earthly ta-
bernacle occasioned no dismay. " Heaven," he said,
" is the more desirable, since such men as Hooker
and Shepherd have taken up their abode there."
On the 20th of July, 1663, he quietly fell asleep,
lamented and beloved.

He wrote much, but published few of his composi-
tions. Mention is made by the ecclesiastical histo-

REV. SAMUEL STONE. 69

rians of that day, of an elaborate body of divinity
written by him, parts of which were sometimes
transcribed by candidates for the ministry, anxious
to enrich themselves from his treasures of theology.
Other works of his are alluded to, by cotemporary
divines.

A plain monument erected to his memory in the
burial place adjoining the Central Congregational
Church in Hartford, (Connecticut,) is still in a good
state of preservation, though the tempests of more
than 160 years have beaten against it ; and its epitaph
characterizes him in the quaint dialect of the age, as

"New England's glory and her radiant crown."

BLAISE PASCAL

Pascal, one of the greatest geniuses and finest
writers that France ever produce(], was

1623. born at Clermont, in Auvergne, 1623.
His father quitted a hicrative and honora-
ble public ofRce, that he might devote himself wholly
to the education of his son, who never had any
other instructor. Almost in infancy he gave proofs
of a very uncommon capacity, for he desired to
know the reason of everytliing, and if sufficient rea-
sons were not adduced would seek for better ; re-
fusing to yield his assent but to such as appeared
well grounded. His father, who mingled religious
instructions with his studies, feared that his peculiar
turn of mind would lead to scepticism, but he
evinced a deep reverence for the truths of Christi-
anity, and seemed to distinguish between those
things which were objects of faith, and those which
were subject to the reasoning powers. " Our free-
thinkers," said he, " are a sort of people who know
not the nature of faith, but are possessed with this
false principle, that human reason is above all
things."

He displayed in childhood such a strong predi-
lection for mathematics, that his father feared it
might retard his progress in the languages, and

BLAISE PASCAL. Tt

locked up all his books in that science. But he
would still rnuso upon geometrical proportions, and
was one day surprised at work, with charcoal upon
his chamber floor, and in the midst of figures,
" What are you doing?" inquired his father. " I am
searching," said the boy, " for a demonstration ;" —
which was found to be the 32d proposition of the
first book of Euclid. His father afterwards in-
dulged him in his mathematical pursuits,^ convinced
that it was impossible to divert his self-taught genius
from its favorite channel.

At 16, he wrote a treatise on conic sections,
.which was considered by the learned, as a mighty
effort of the human mind ; and at 19, invented a
highly celebrated arithmetical machine, and tried
many novel philosophical experiments on the Ter-
niceilian tube. With his profound knowledge he
mingled an easy and agreeable address, great mod-
esty, and a native eloquence which was almost irre-
sistible.

When he reached his 24th year, he laid aside the
mathematical and philosophical studies in which he
had so eminendy distinguished himself, and resolv-
ed to spend the remainder of his time in retirement,
and to devote his talents to the cause of piety and
virtue. He employed himself much in prayer, and in
reading the holy Scriptures, and in those exercises
found the greatest comfort and delight. He used ta
say, " that the sacred Scriptures were not so much
adapted to the head as to the heart of man ; that
they were intelligible only to those who possessed
rectitude of heart, and to all others were obscure
and uninteresting." '

His cliarity to tlie poor was remarkably exten-

72 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

sive ; he gave alms even out of his own neces-
sary subsistence. Persons of distinction frequent-
ly visited him in his retirement, to consult him on
religious subjects, and while they revered his piety
and wisdom, they admired his humility and simplici-
ty. A striking picture of the mind of this good
man is contained in a few sentences which were
found among his papers after his decease. " I re-
spect poverty, because Jesus Christ respected it ;
I respect riches because they furnish the mean^ of
relieving the distressed. I do not return evil to
those who have done me an injury. I endeavor to
be sincere and faithful to all men, but 1 have a pe-
culiar tenderness towards those with whom God has
caused me to be intimately cormected. Whether I
am alone or in company, I consider myself as in
the sight of God, who will judge my actions, and
to whom I consecrate them all. These are my
sentiments ; — and I daily bless my Redeemer who
has impressed them on me ; and who by the opera-
tion of his grace has taken away the concupiscence,
pride, ambition, and misery, to which I was natu-
rally subject. I owe my deliverance to his power
and goodness, having nothing of myself but imbe-
cility and corruption."

Among his various literary work^ he had project-
ed one against atheists and infidels, but before he
could digest the materials he had collected, he was
attacked by a lingering distemper, which eventually
terminated his life. From his youth he had been
much afflicted with sickness, and from the 19th year
of his age had never passed a day without pain.
But he' bore' all without a murmur, and even with
cheerfulness, and during his last illness his deport-

BLAISE PASCAL. 7$

ment was at once astonishing, edifying, and con-
solatory to his friends. " I know," said he, " the dan-
gers of health, and the advantages of sickness.
When we are ill, we are exempt from many of the
passions which disturb our health ; we are without
ambition, without avarice, and in continual expecta-
tion of death. We have nothing to do bnt to sub-
mit, humbly, and peacefully. For this reason, all I
ask of God is to beseech him to grant me this fa-
vor."

He died in 1662, aged 39. His last words were
— " May God never forsake me," and he departed
full of peace and hope. In a prayer, composed
near the close of his life, he says, " I pray not that
thou wouldst give me either health or sickness, life-
or death, but that thou wouldst dispose of my health,
my sickness, my Ufe and my death for thy glory,
and for my own eternal welfare. Thou alone
knowest what is expedient for me, thou art my sove-
reign Master and Lord : guide and govern me at
thy pleasure."

The celebrated Bayle, speaking of this distin--
guished person, says, " A hundred volumes of reli-
gious discourses are not of so much avail to con-
found the impious, as a simple account of the life
of Pascal. His humility and devotion mortify the
libertine more than if they were attacked by a doz-
en Missionaries : — for they can no longer assert
that piety is confined to men of little minds, when
they behold the highest degree of it in a geometri-
cian of the first rank, a most acute metaphysician,
and one of the most penetrating minds that ever
<^xi8ted."

6* '

THE COUNTESS OF SUFFOLK*

She was the second daughter of the Earl of Hol-
land, born in the year 1627, and married very
young, to Theophilus, Earl of Suffolk.

1627. Her powers of imagination, judgment
and memory, were extraordinary : in the
latter particular she was so happy, that she frequent-
ly committed to writing on Monday, the sentnon
she heard the preceding Lord's day, and nearly in
the very words of the preacher. She had a remark-
able government of her passions, and it was ob-
served that she was unskilful in manifesting displeas-
ure, if the subject that excited it was of a temporal
nature ; but a profane or indecent expression would
lead her to reprove the offenders, if acquainted with
them ; if strangers, she would often show her dis-
gust by retiring.

She was frank and confiding in friendship, gentle
to her inferiors, and affable to all. She was willing
to make any sacrifice for those she esteemed, and
nothing was more distressing to her, than to be com-
pelled to doubt the merit of those who had once
possessed her good opinion. She was tender to
the errors of her servants, and, if virtuous and
faithful, treated them as humble friends. None
had a more correct estimation of relative duties, or

THB COUNTESS OF SUFFOLK. 75

discharged them more faithfully. Her husband,
parents, kindred, friends, servants, neighbors — all
were witnesses of this truth.

If these are but moral virtues, there was every
reason to beUeve that in her they flowed from a ren-
ovated heart. Hence her love and regard to the
truth, which in every situation of life, led her to
meet any danger auid ridicule rather than violate in-
tegrity. Hence also her active benevolence, — for
her soul seemed composed of Christian kindness
and compassion. The poor whom she knew, need-
ed not to come to her for aid ; she sent clothing,
food, medicine, and other comforts to their habita-
tions, and provided houses for those who had none.
She often visited them to acquaint herself more
particularly with their persons and wants ; and if
any iiitieated her charily when she was irom home,
and happened to be unprovided, she would borrow
from her friends to supply them.

Her charity extended beyond their temporal
wants ; she endeavored to relieve and instruct their
minds, by admonishing the careless, and counsel-
ling the scrupulous ; at the same time oHering her
daily prayers on their behalf. She distributed her
bounty kindly, and without ostentation. The poor
and distressed, whom she had so often r<'licved, be-
wailed at her death, as for a lost parent, and long
after thanklully recognized her generosity.

In another species of charily, she was exempla-
ry— that of forgiving injuries, which whether they
■arose from mistake or malice, she was ever ready
to pardon and forget. Though her memory on oth-
er subjects was very tenacious, here she seemed
to have no recollection at all. Benefits and favors

76 BIOGRAPHY OF I'lOUS PERSONS.

were never effaced from her iriind ; but unkindness,
though it might for the time make a deep impression
upon her susceptilile spirit, was never returned by
any similar act.

She possessed a strong faith in the merits of a
Redeemer, and a lively hope of immortality. Some-
times the tenderness ol" her conscience would awa-
ken fears, which she conquered by self-recollection
and humble pruyer. In times of sorrow, faith and
patience were her support. When her only son
was in the agonies of death, she sal down almost
exhausted, having poured out many prayers and
tears. When she found that he had indeed gone,
she gave a momentary vent to grief, and then took
her Bible, and applied herself to the singing of
Psalms, till the violence of emotion had subsided,
and her soul was brought into tranquil submission
lo the will of God.

The lovely grace of humility was observable in
all her actions. It was like a robe covering her
from head to fool, through which her itmumerable
excellences shone with an improved lustre. She
suffered none of the noble talents of her mind to
slumber in indolence. She remembered who had
given them, and who would require them again. —
J;>very day was begun, and closed with prayer. As
soon as she awoke, she went into her closet, and
performed her customary devotions, reading at the
same time her portion in the Bible which consisted
of the psalms appointed for the day of the month,
and six chapters beside ; intending by this course to
read the Bible twice in a year. This method she
began at the age of 15, and continued regularly
till her deatli, and if any circumstance compelled

THE CODNTE88 OF SUFFOLK. 77

her to shorten her usual portion, she proportionably
increased the number of chapters, at her next read-
ing season.

She was methodical, as well as diligent in im-
proving her time ; carefully allotting proper hours
to business, repasts and reading. In her daily
course of the Scriptures, she allowed a portion of
time to examine difficult passages by notes, and in-
terpreters. Many other books of divinity likewise
shared her attention, and administered to her in-
struction. She delighted much in the Sabbath, and
other seasons for devotion, especially in the prepa-
ration for the Sacrament. In this ordinance she
endeavored frequently to participate, and found it a
great assistance to her piety. She was very atten-
tive during preaching, and often repeated to her
family what she remembered of the sermons.

liike many true believers she was for a time sub-
ject to spiritual doubts, but it pleased God to deliver
her from them, and to grant her an increase of con-
fidence and comfort. Her whole Ufe might be
styled a scene of preparation for death ; and appre-
hending its approach during an illness that afflicted
her, she entreated her friends to reveal her real con-
dition to her, without reserve. They confessed
that their hopes of her life were small, and that dis-
solution seemed gradually approaching.

At this she discovered neither terror or reluctance,
but sending for her near relatives and friends, with a
countenance solemn and serene took an affection-
ate leave of them. She gave them benedictions,
counsels smd prayers, adapted to each, especially
her husband, children and servants, tending to di-
rect them in the way of well-doing, that so she

78' BIOSRAPHY OF PIOUS PEllSOMS.

might meet them again in glory. With such affec-
tion and zeal did she warn, and advise them, and
such assurances did she give them that she was go-
ing from pains and miseries to celestial rest, that the
remembrance of her words, and the image of her
serene aspect could never be efiaced from their
minds. She seemed like Moses on Mount Pisgah,
or Uke Jacob on his last couch distributing bles-
sings. One who should have seen her dearest
friends and relatives full of tears and lamentations,
and herself unmoved, counselhng, comforting, and
blessing them, would have been ready to think that
they were to die, and that she was giving them
Christian exhortation and comfort. Her confidence
in God, and her spiritual joy were such, that the an-
ticipation of death seemed to give her a taste of the
happiness of the life to come.

The legacy she left to her two dear children was,
her desire to their father, that whatever outward
provision he made for them, for which she was not
anxious, they might be educated in the strictest way
of religion : this she had found best for herself in
life ; and at death she recommended it to those
whom she most tenderly loved. Yet alter approach-
ing the confines of Death, looking him calmly in the
face, and tranquilly surveying all his terrors, it pleas-
ed the Almighty to bring her again I'rom the pit of
darkness, and continue her in life, very unexpected-
ly, for six months hmger.

This miracle, as it appeared, was an instance of
the greatest mercy to another, and it seemed that
she was restored, for a great and necessary work.
Her father. Earl Hidland, was about this time ar-
raigned before the High Court erected by Farlia-

THE COUNTESS 6f 8DFFOLK. 79

ment, and condemned to die. In this affliction he
received inexpressible comfort from his pious daugh-
ter, whom it seemed as if Providence had brought for
his sake from the brink of the grave. When all
hof>es of hia hfe were banished, she frequently
visited him in prison, and watched all night in a room
adjoining his, that she might be near him in the
morning. In conversing on rehgion, she propos-
ed such prudent and searching questions, so judi-
ciously applied both law and gospel, so gently wound-
ed, and then so kindly endeavored to heal, that be-
ing at length much comforted, he exclaimed, "Hap-
py am I, that I should receive from a child of my
own, such consolation." To a divine who visited
him, he said, " I thank God, that I have a child
who is able to be my counsellor in all my doubts."

The distressing stroke of his execution she bore
>vith much Christiati patience, acknowledging it to
be the wise method of Almighty God, to bestow
mercy on a soul, which, had it been exempted from
so great a calamity, find still conversant with scenes
of prosperity mv\ temptation, might never so ear-
nestly and humbly have sought him. She declared,
that, thinking as she thought, she could not, even il'
it were lawful, wish him alive again ; she dared not
desire for him so bad an exchange as to leave heav-
en for earth. Yet it was known by all, that her af-
fection for him had been uncommonly tender and
strong.

She told a friend, that now, if God would give
her leave, she would retire into the country, having,
as she said, so disposed her family and business,
that she had nothing to do, but to die. Those who
had opportimity to know, observed, that during the

80 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

six months which succeeded her dangerous sickness
there was not a night in which she rose from her
closet devotions without an overflowing of tears. —
And now her work being done, Death approached
to claim her corruptible part. A few days before
her departure, her intellect was aflfected ; but in one
of her lucid intervals, she poured out her soul in a
comprehensive prayer ; pleading before God, his
name, his attributes, his mercies, the mediation of
his Son, and his promises, which she drew from ev-
ery part of his word.

This seemed her last considerable interval of
reason, except that after her strength was spent,
she recognized her friends when they came to her,
signified her assurance of an interest in Christ, and
joined attentively in their prayers. About an hour
after, in a quiet sleep, she yielded her spirit to her
God, May 10th, 1649, in the 22d year of her age ;
most tenderly lamented by her friends, to whom she
had been inexpressibly dear and delightful. She
was early fitted for heaven, and early received to
the participation of celestial joys.

THE COITKTESS OF WARWICK.

This lady was the daughter of Richard Boyle, the
first Earl of Cork, who began the world with Uttle ex-
cept an unblemished character, and left at

1 630. his death an immense estate to his children.
He was originally a private gentleman,
the younger son of a younger brother, and had no
other patrimony than what was expressed in his
motto — *' God's providence is my inheritance." His
persevering exertions were crowned wath a state of
opulence and honor, yet he still retained the motto
which he had adopted in his poverty, and caused to
be writen on his principal buildings and inscribed on
his tonil) — " God's providence is my inheritance."
One of his numerous sons was the philosopher,
Robert Boyle, a man equally distinguished by ge-
nius, learning and piety ; a bright ornament to re-
ligion, and to human nature.

The subject of these memoirs was a daughter,

who early in life became the consort of the Earl of

Warwick. The powers of her mind were strong,

and assisted by a regular and pious education ; but

though her conduct was circumspect and amiable,

she confessed that she knew nothing of the life and

power of religion in the heart, till after her arrival

ut maturity. She acknowledged that she entered
7 ^ -

82 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

her husband's family, with erroneous ideas of reli-
gion, and strong prejudices eigainst it ; but the true
devotion she saw there, the excellent preaching she
heard, and the amiable tenderness of her illustrious
father-in-law, were effectual in removing her dan-
gerous prepossessions. Afflictions, and occasional
retirement were also blessed to her, and served to
detach her thoughts from the follies and pleasures
of the world.

After this happy change in her sentiments and
feelings, she became remarkable for gravity, humility
and circumspection, and for a seraphic zeal to pro-
mote the interests of religion. It seemed the great
object of her life to show forth the praises of Him
who had called her from darkness into marvellous
light. She regularly kept a diary, in which she re-
corded the frame of her heart, remarkable providen-
ces towards herself and others, answers of prayer,
spiritual comforts, temptations prevailing or resisted,
and whatever else might be useful for caution or en-
couragement, humiliation or gratitude.

Prayer, she used to style " the ease of the heart,"
and such it was to her. She was not only constant
in this duty, but so fervent, that when she used not
an audible voice, her sighs and groans were fre-
quently overheard from her closet. Prayer was the
element in which she lived and died ; the vital
breath of her soul which eventually wafted it to
heaven. She walked two hours every morning for
serious meditation, in which important duty she was
a great proficient; sometimes employing her thoughts
on particular subjects, at others extracting mental
improvement from accidental occurrences. Vol-
umes of this kind she left behind her in manuscript.

THE COUNTESS OF WARWICK. 83

and the parts that have been published do equal
honor to her head and her heart.

She kept the Sabbath with exemplary strictness,
as the best preservative to the life of religion. She
was a devout communicant, and prepared for the re-
newal of her covenant with fasting and prayer. If
she had a particular interest in any whom she ap-
prehended destitute of religion, she would employ
the authority of friendship, and the persuasive pow-
ers of her own eloquence, to plead the cause of
their own eternal salvation. She studiously kept
herself disengaged from sects and parties, that
none might suspect her of a design to make pro-
selytes to any but to God.

That she might recommend piety to others, she
endeavored to make it appear in its most amiable
and alluring form. To an engaging deportment,
she added, the attractive charms of Christian meek-
ness, courtesy and benevolence. Her discourse
in company was both interesting and profitable, and
she evinced great dexterity in giving it an insensible
turn towards moral and serious subjects. She
took great care of the souls of her servants, and it
was her ambition to be the mistress of a religious
family. This appeared in exacting their attendance,
and reverent behaviour, at the public worship of
God, — in personal instruction and familiar persua-
sion,— in seriously endeavoring to prepare them for
the Sacrament and exhorting them to partake of it
frequently, — in dispersing good books in all com-
mon rooms and places of attendance, that those in
waiting might have profitable employment, — and in
making religion in her servants, the criterion of her
esteem. She treated them all as friends, but those
who most feared the Ijord, were her favorites.

84 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

Neither was she inattentive to their temporal
interests ; for she seemed to find as much satisfac-
tion in pleasing them, as the best servants have in
pleasing their superiors. She delighted to render
their hves easy, and free from discontent, that so
they might serve God with cheerfulness. She ex-
tended her generous care to the period in which
their earthly connection should be dissolved, and
left them legacies of 2, 3 and 400/. with the
wages of a full year, and permission to remain at
her house, three months, as in her life, that they
might have sufficient time to seek other commodi-
ous situations.

She spared no pains to accommodate her tenants,^
and, if any of them sustained material losses, was
accustomed to deduct them from their rent. No
inconvenience could ever make her recede from
obligations into which she had entered, or even from
intimated promises, if she found the expectations
of others were excited by them.

With this sacred regard for truth, she coupled
the divine injunction, " speak evil of no man."
She would extenuate the failingsof others, by bring-
ing into view the brighter parts of their character,
and where she could not commend, was silent.

To her parents she was a pattern of duty and
respect ; — as a sister, inexpressibly tender and en-
dearing ; as a friend, affectionate, unsuspicious
and faithful. Her excellence as a mother, ajipear-
ed in the education of her son, a promising youth,
who died before her ; and in the instruction of three
young ladies, whom she adopted, and to whom she
was a mother in the best sense of the word. As a
\vife, it may be truly said that " the heart of her

THE COUNTESS OF WARWICK. 85

husband safely trusted in her, and she did him good,
and not evil, all the days of her life." She hved
under a constant and impressive sense of the cov-
enant of God which was between them ; mingUng-
uncommon tenderness and affection with a conduct
uniformly complying. She concealed his infirmi-
ties, sympathized in his indispositions, and attended
him with the greatest kindness. Above all she
loved his soul ; fervently praying for him, and coun-
selling him with mingled zeal and prudence.

Among other testimonials of esteem and gratitude,
he gave her, by will, his whole estate, and left her
his sole executrix. This arduous task she discharg-
ed with such attention, prudence and accuracy, as
more than satisfied all who were concerned, and
this event she acknowledged, as a visible, and distin-
guishing mercy. During the life of Earl Warwick,
she had a stated yearly allowance, and anxiously
inquired of her minister, what portion of their sub-
stance he supposed people were bound to conse-
crate to the poor. On liis suggesting a seventh
part, she immediately answered that she could not
think of less than a third ; and this proportion she
accordingly set apart for charitable uses.

The most pressing exigencies of a different kind
never induced her to infringe on this dedicated sum,
though she often borrowed from the remainder of
her property to increase it ; and anticipated her in-
comes rather tlian restrain her hberality.

When she came into possession of the large es-
tate bequeatlied her by her husband, her manage-
ment of it confirmed the truth of the remark uttered
by a person of high eminence, " that the Earl of
Warwick had given all his estate to piow i«e»."
7*

86 BIOGRAPHY OK PIOUS PERSONS.

She seemed to have no satisfaction in great posses-
sions but that of doing extensive good ; and fre-
quently declared that she would not be incumbered
with the largest estate in England on any other con-
ditions. That her charity was judicious as well as
generous, appears from the objects on which she
bestowed it : —

1. Persons, really in want, whom the remem-
brance of better days, or a native modesty and del-
icacy prevented from complaining of their necessi-
ties. Such she liberally relieved, without solicitation,
and with such gentleness and meekness as seemed
to express a desire to gain their pardon, rather than
deserve thanks.

2. Foreigners, who in those days of calamity
fled from their native country to preserve their per-
secuted religion. To these she evinced that she
honored the goodness of their cause, and found
pleasure in tenderly administering to their neces-
sities.

3. Scholars of promising dispositions and capa-
cities, but of slender resources, whom she educated
in great numbers at the universities, allowing them
at the same time an annual sum of 20 or 30/. as
she supposed their needs required.

4. Poor children ; — whom, if she could persuade
to learn, she placed at school in neighboring towns,
not only paying for their instruction, but supj)lying
them with books and clothing. This noble charity
she exercised not only near home, but even the dis-
tant regions of Wales, shared liberally in her bounty.

6. Ministers of every denomination, whose liv-
ings were uicompetent to support their families with
(lecopcy.

THE COUNTESS OF WARWICK. 87

6. Occasional applicants of almost every cha-
racter ; and though sometimes deceived and abused
in such cases, she was not deteri'ed from giving ;
often saying, " I would rather relieve ten who ap-
j>ear proper objects, and are not, than to let one in
real distress go unreUeved ; for if tliey deceive mo
in giving, God will not deceive me in accepting what
is sincerely done for his name's sake.

7. The poor around her whom she knew. These
she fed in great numbers, not with fragments, but
with generous supplies purposely provided. She
suppUed them with medicines, pesonally visited the
meanest of them, to converse with, to instruct, and
to comfort them. Her love and compassion for
them was unbounded. Twice a week she provided
bread and beef for the poor of" four adjacent pa-
rishes ; and ordered in her will that the same bounty
should be continued after her death, and a hundred
pounds distributed to the poor of four other pa-
rishes.

This was the amiable, the noble, the exemplary
life of the Countess of Warwick. " Give her of
the fruits of her hands, and let her own works praise
her in the gates." — From a passage in her diary,
written the last Lord's day of her health, it appears
that she had some impressions of her approaching
dissolution. The Tuesday following she was seized
with an iiulisposition from which she never recovered.
She discoursed with great cheerfulness ; and the
last sentence she was heard to utter, was to some
friends who surrounded her, as she drew the curtains
of her bed — " If I were but one hour in heaven, I
would not be again with you, as much as I love
you." — Soon after, having proposed prayer, she.

88 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

almost as soon as it was begun, heaved a sigh as
she sat in her chair, turned pale, and immediately
expired ; according to her own often repeated re-
quest— " that if she might choose the manner and
circumstances of her death, she would die pray-
ing,"—

" A soul prcpar'd needs no delays,
The summons comes, the saint obeys ; —
Swift was her flight, and short the road,
She clos'd her eyes, and saw her God."

REV. PHILIP HE]!CRY.

Philip Henry was born at Whitehall, (West-
minster) on Wednesday, August 24th, 1631. His

father had the office of keeper of the
1631. Orchard, and attendant upon the king's

second son, James Duke of York. He
was very sincere in his attachment to the unfortu-
nate Charles First, and a deep mourner for his un-
timely death. A little anecdote is recorded, illus-
trative of his constant and fearless affection. The
im|>risoned monarch, insulted and despised, going
under guard to his trial at Westminster, passed the
door of this faithful attendant, who was eager to
present him his affectionate respects, and in spite of
the menaces of the guard prayed fervently that
'< God would bless his Majesty." This must have
been soothing to the heart of him who suffered ma-
ny insults, " on whose visage every eye did scowl,
and no tongue cried, God save him."

The mother of the subject of these memoirs, was
of the family of Rochdales, in Westminster. She
was a woman of great virtue and piety, though her
lot was cast among the vanities and temptations of
a court She was careful to instruct her children in

90 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

the precepts and practice of religion, catechised
them, and not satisfied with praying tor theni^ daily
prayed with them. Observing in this her only son,
early^ inclinations to learning and piety, she solemn-
ly devoted him in his tender years to the service of
God in the vi^ork of the ministry. To the close of
his life he was accustomed to express peculiar grat-
itude to Heaven for the benefit of such a parent,
who poured pious instruction upon his unformed
mind, and unceasingly solicited for him the dews of
divine grace. After some time spent in the study
of the languages, he was received into Westminster
school in the fourth form ; then into the upjier school
under the celebrated Dr. Busby ; then to the honor
of King's Scholar.

At his mother's request he was permitted to at-
tend a daily lecture, established by seven pious min-
isters of the assembly of Divines. This, which he
attended without any abatement of his school exer-
cises, was the instrument of much good to his
young mind. At the age of eleven years he began
the practice of writing what he could recollect from
the Sermons he heard, continued it until the decay
of his sight, a little previous to his death, and recom-
mended it to others, as a method of fixing the atten-
tion, strengthening the memory, and assisting seri-
ous meditation.

But while he was prosecuting his studies with
diligence and success, the all-wise Providence of
God was preparing to write him an orphan. His
mother lay upon the couch of languishing, and in
the midst of her sufferings was heard to exclaim —
" my head is in heaven ; my heart is in heaven : —
one step more, and I shall be there also." On the

REV. PHILIP HENRT. 91

6th of March, 1645, she departed ; — and to her chil-
dren was fulfilled what the strong faith of the Psalm-
ist once affirmed, " when my father and my mother
forsake me, then the Lord will take me up."

Two years after, Philip Henry, in the sixteenth
year of his age, publicly gave himself up to God,
and joined in covenant with his people. On this
solemn occasion he writes — " there had been trea-
ties before, between my soul and Jesus Christ ; but
then confessing my sins, casting away all my trans-
gressions, receiving him as my righteousness, dedi-
cating myself absolutely and unreservedly to his fear
and service, and then coming to this ordinance, there
1 received him indeed, and he became mine : — /
say mine." lie mentions with gratitude. Dr. Bus-
by's careful attention for some time previous in ex-
plaining the nature of the ordinance, exciting to se-
rious preparation, and appointing religious exercises,
instead of the customary scholastic ones, — " for
which," writes the young communicant, " tlie Lord
recompense a thousand fold into his bosom."

In December, 1647, he was entered a student at
Christ's College, Oxford, and addressed himself
vigorously to its peculiar studies. He was on a
visit at London, when Charles First was beheaded,
and with a mournful, heart witnessed that tragical
scene. He noticed that at the instant the fatal blow
was struck, such a dismal and universal groan arose
from ihe thousands surrounding the scaffold, as he
never before heard, and had not power to describe :
and that immediately the soldiers came marching in
separate bodies, according to previous orders, to
disperse the people, and to scatter their distressing
thoughts by forcuig them to seek their own safety.

92 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

He returned, and resumed his University studies,
and was favored with many advantages, for obtain*
ing both classical and religious instruction.

Some of his contemporary students used to asso-
ciate for the purposes of prayer, and religious con-
ference, which were blest to their preparation for the
future duties of the ministry. He received his de-
grees of Bachelor, and Master of Arts, and answer-
ed the Latin philosophical questions with great ap-
plause. A copy of Latin verses of his, is printed
among the Oxford university poems, which confer
on him that reputation as a poet which he had before
gained as an orator. Soon after taking his degree
of Master of Arts he preached his first sermon from
John viii. 34. " Whosoever committeth sin is the
servant of sin," and the Christian hearers rejoiced
that he could so willingly lay aside the enticing
words of man's wisdom for the purity and simplicity
of the gospel. Yet notwithstanding his diligence,
his attainments and reputation, humility led him to
perceive and lament lost time and neglected oi)por-
tunities, and in one of his visits to the place of his
education, he inserts in his diary, — " a tear dropt
over my university sins."

At leaving Oxford he was requested to preach
as a candidate in the church of Worthenburg, and
to officiate as chaplain and private tutor in the family
of Judge Puleston, the most pious and influential
man in those parts. His constant exertions in this
new sphere of usefulness, his amiable and exem-
plary conduct, so gained him the friendship of his
patron, that he cunfinncd to him the lease ol" a
house erected purposely for him, and the sum ol"
100/. a year while he should continue the minister

REV. PHILIP HENRY. 93

of Worthenburg. On the 16th of Sept. 1667,
he was publicly ordained in the parish church, and
entered on the work of his ministry.

The sphere was narrow and confined for such a
burning and shining light, the number of commu-
nicants was only 41, and the congregation princi-
pally composed of poor tenants and laborers, but
the souls of such, he would say, " were precious in
the sight of God," and he carefully and affection-
ately performed his duty towards them, refusing the
offers that were made him, which might have flatter-
ed his ambition and promoted his secular interest.

In labors he was abundant : beside preaching,
he expounded the Scriptures in order, catechised
and explained the Catechism, receiving into the
number of his Catechumens, adults as well as chil-
dren, because he perceived that they needed instruc-
tion. He established a monthly lecture of two ser-
mons ; and a conference, where he encouraged famil-
iar discourse of spriritual things, that he might better
understand the state of his flock, and adapt his ser-
mons and prayers to their individual cases. He
was very diligent in visiting the sick, instructing
them, and praying with them ; and in this service
said, " he aimed at the good, not only of those
who were sick, but also of the relations and
friends that were ai)Out them." He [>reached fune-
ral sermons lor all who were buried there, of what-
ever rank or age, for he considered it a time to scat-
ter the good seed of the word, when Providence
had softened the heart for its reception. In his
preaching and adininistnition of i>rdinances, he «a.s
plain and atlectionute, laying u^mlo his great learu-
8

94 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

ing, that he might suit the capacities of the unlearn-
ed, and win souls to Christ.

His diary records the affections and emotions of
his soul, whether in his study, closet or pulpit, for
he kept his heart with all diligence. " For three
things he was remarkable," says a writer of those
times ; " great piety and devotion, and much savor
of them in his conversation ; great industry in the
pursuit of useful knowledge ; great self-denial and
eminent humihty, which cast a lustre upon his other
graces : and though like all zealous servants of
Jesus Christ he was not without opposers, yet the
vox j)opuli fastened upon him the epithet of Heav^
enly Henry.

He would receive no compensation for any min-
isterial services, except his stated salary, which he
had agreed to accept of the Puleston family in lieu
of the usual tithe : yet of his little portion he con-
stantly laid by a tenth part for the poor, adopting
the words of Daniel, " of thine own. Lord, have
we given thee."

Afler finding him so faithful in the concerns of oth-
ers, entrusted to his care, let us view him in the man-
agement of his own ; in his house and his family,
for there the hearts of men are most successfully
developed. He selected as a partner for life, Cath-
arine, the only child of Mr. Daniel Matthews of
Broad Oak, and on the 26th of April, 1660, entered
into the holy bonds of matrimony. In this design
he had carefully sought the direction of God in
prayer, fearing without his guidance, to take a step
which might materially influence his temporal and
eternal happiness. The day previous to his mar-
riage, he devoted to secret prayer and fasting, and

REV. PHILIP HENRV. 96

God was pleased to bless an union so religiously be-
gun. His diary often records his great satisfaction in
this choice, and his fervent thanks to the Almighty
who had given him " an helper and a Comforter."

He was now found exemplary in family religion,
and would often say, "we are really what we
are relatively ; it is not so much what we are at
church, as what we are in our families." He be-
lieved the secret duties of the closet to have a great
eflect upon the conduct of life, and was very faithful
in their performance. Merely upon the occasion
of removing his closet from one room to another,
he records this request in his daily journal : " This
day my new closet was consecrated by prayer ; and
may all the prayers that shall ever be made in it,
according to the will of God, morning, evening, and
at noon, ordinary or extraordinary, be accepted of
him, and obtain a gracious answer." Beside se-
cret prayer, he and his consort constantly prayed
together, morning and evening, without a single
omission when they were together, either at home
or abroad. This he would recommend to others,
from his own experience of its benefit, adding that
those who were thus united were bound to do all
in their power to help each other to heaven, and
that they were thus excited to " live together aa
heirs of the grace of life, that their prayers be not
hindered."

When abroad or on journeys he accidentally
lodged with his friends, he constantly reminded
them, that " those who sleep together, should pray
together," and in this performance of duty was
usually short but often much afi'ected. Many to
whom he gave this advice and example, have bles-

96 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

sed God for him, and for his instructions. Family
worship in all its parts he performed conscientious-
ly from the day he was first called to the charge of
a house, till the day of his release from earth.
He attended it early in the morning, before the in-
trusion and hurry of worldly concerns, and also
early in the evening before the children and servants
retired. He would tell those who complained they
could not find time for it, that if they would arm
themselves with Christian resolution, other difficulties
would vanish, that it was a great preserver of order
and decency in a family, and would bring a blessing
upon them, and their possessions.

He was desirous that all under his roof should
join with him, not only strangers and visitors, but
workmen and day-laborers. His first exercise was
a short but solemn prayer, imploring the divine pre-
sence and blessing upon this his reasonable service,
then the singing of a psalm, in which the whole
family joined, then the reading and explanation of a
portion of Scripture, of which his children were re-
quired to give him an account, and afterwards to
write, as a method of exciting their attention,
strengthening their memories, and storing their minds
with good things. Then followed his prayer in the
midst of his kneeling family, his thanksgiving for
their mercies, his confession of their sins, his inter-
cession for needful blessings. He observed the
custom of Job, who " offered burnt offerings for his
children according to the number of them all," so
he would often present a petition for each child, and
always on the return of their respective birth days,
would return thanks for them as a gift, and request
renewed favors for them. For every servant, and

REV. PHILIP HENRY. 97

sojourner who entered or left the family, he would
address a separate petition suited to their circum-
stances.

He was daily mindful of all who desired his
prayers, and very careful to notice particular provi-
dences ; concluding his morning and evening wor-
ship, with a doxology and solemn benediction. Im-
mediately after the service, his children together,
with bended knee, came to entreat a blessing of
him and their mother, and to desire them to pray
to God to bless them. Their blessing was given
with great solemnity and affection, always remem-
bering any of them who might be absent — " The
Lord bless you, and your brother, (or you and your
sister) who is absent Thus did he daily bless his
household, and with such fervor, such affection,
such variety of service, that none said, what a wea-
riness is it ; his family viewed it not as a task but
a pleasure, and those accidentally present were
constrained to say, " behold, how good and how
pleasant it is for brethren so to dwell together in
unity."

On Sabbath evenings he was usually more full
in prayer, soliciting a blessing upon the churches,
and the outpouring of the Spirit universally, and
was often observed to be absorbed in the work, as
if he found the service its own reward, or (as it
were,) dwelt for a time, like Moses, in the mount
with God. On that day, he constantly sung a
psalm after dinner, and after supper, beside those in
the stated service, and in the evening examined his
children and servants, in the sense and meaning of
their Catechism, and heard them repeat what they
could recollect of the sermons of the day.
8*

98 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

On Thursday evenings, he catechised them, ex-
amined them in their knowledge of the useful books
they had read, and of their acquauitance with the
Scriptures. On Saturday evenings they rendered
him an account of the several chapters they had
heard him read and explain during the week. This
he called gathering up the fragments that nothing
might be lost ; and would sometimes say aftection-
ately in the words of Christ to his disciples, " have
ye understood all these things V and if not, he
would explain them more fully, managing the
whole exercise with so much prudence and sweet-
ness, that with the knowledge of the Scriptures he
instilled the love of them also.

Thus was he the prophet and the priest of his
own house, and he was a king there likewise, ruling
in the wisdom and fear of God, and not suffering
even the " appearance of evil." He had once a
servant who was overtaken with intemperance
abroad, for which the next morning at family wor-
ship, he solemnly reproved him, admonished him,
prayed for him with a spirit of meekness, ancl soon
after dismissed him. But many of his servants, by
the influence of Heaven upon his endeavors, receiv-
ed abiding religious impressions, and blessed God
that they ever came under his roof. Few went
from his service till they were called to families of
their own, and many who had buried their yoke-
fellows, returned again to his service, saying, " Mas-
ter, it is good for us to be here."

His children, — for God had given him four
daughters and two sons, — he brought up with un-
speakable care and tenderness, being watchful
never " to provoke them to wrath, or to discourage

REV. PHILIP HENRY. 99

them, but to hold them in the nurture and admoni-
tion of the Lord." He indeed preserved his au-
thority, but it was with wisdom and love, and not
with an high hand, always allowing them freedom
of discourse with him, that he might find the ave-
nue to their hearts, and enter, bearing precious seed.
He was their constant instructor, taught them all to
write himself, and made them early record the
memory of sermons, and other useful extracts.
He taught his eldest daughter the Hebrew tongue,
at the age of 6 or 7 years, by a Grammar which ho
compiled for her, and she made such proficiency as
to be able readily to read and construe a Hebrew
Psalm. He sometimes employed them to write
from the Scriptures whatever appeared to them
forcible or impressive, and gave each of them a
book to record what they thought remarkable in the
volumes he selected for them to peruse.

He not only taught his children to pray by his
own example, but appointed them a part of every
Saturday afternoon, to spend together, or with those
of their age who might occasionally be there, in
reading good books, singing and prayer, sometimes
telling them for their encouragement, that the God
whom they addressed, understood broken language ;
and that if they offered the best they were able, in
the sincerity of their hearts, they would not only be
accepted, but taught to do better, " for unto him
that hath (and useth what he hath) more shall be
given." For their use he drew up the following
concise covenant : — " I take God the Father to be
my chief end and highest good. I take God the
Son to bo my Prince and Saviour. I take God tho
Holy Ghost to be my Sanctifier, Teacher, Guide

100 BIOGRAPHY Of PIOUS PERSONS.

and Comforter. I take the word of God to be the
rule of all my actions. I take the people of God
to be my people in all conditions. I do likewise
devote and dedicate unto the TiOrd, my whole self,
all I am, all I have, all I can do. And this I do, de-
liberately, sincerely, freely, — forever."

Thus each of his children solemnly repeated to
him every Sabbath evening, and he labored to give
them an understanding of it, and to persuade them
to consent to it, not with the Ups only, but with the
heart. When they arrived at years of discretion,
each of them transcribed and very solemnly signed
it, which he told them he would keep, and produce
as a testimony against them, if they should depart
from God, and despise his service. In reasoning
with them of their spiritual state he would press
upon their minds the circumstance of infant baptism,
that they were dedicated to God, and bound to be
his servants. " I am thy servant, and the son of
thine handmaid." This he would illustrate by the
comparison of taking a lease of a fair estate for a
child in the cradle, who without capability of con-
senting to the act, hath still a maintenance out of
it, and an interest in it, with power to reject or con-
firm the instrument when arrived at years of matu-
rity. " Now, children, our great Landlord was
willing that your lives should be put into the lease
of heaven and happiness, and it was done accord-
ingly by your baptism, which is the seal of righteous-
ness by faith ; and by that it was assured to you,
that if you would pay the rent and do the service,
that is, live a life of faith, repentance and sincere
obedience, you shall never be cast off'; but if you
dislike the terms and refuse to pay the rent, — tor-

REV. PHILIP HENRY. 101

feit now the lease." Thus would he make plain to
them the nature of this ordinance, and would some-
times say to his friends — " if infant baptism were
more improved, it would be less disputed."

At the age of 16 his children approached the
ordinance oi the Lord's Supper, and made that
solemn covenant their own act and deed. Very
great care he took to prepare them for that solemn
event, and was repaid by their exemplary and pious
conduct, and his labors in their education were so
rendered effectual by the blessing of God, that they
gave him inexpressible comfort, and when they were
placed in families of their own, they walked in the
steps of their teacher, as he also followed Christ.
" Verily, he had no greater joy than to see his chil-
dren walking in truth."

Five of his children arrived at years of maturity,
and were judiciously and happily disposed of in the
world, when he was summoned to quit it, but his
eldest son, a child of good parts, and most sweet
disposition, died of the measles, at the age of six
years. lie has left this short memorial of him,
" Praeterque aetatem nil puerile fuit." This was
a great affliction to the affectionate parents, and Mr.
Henry writes in his diary, " Lord, shew mc where-
fore thou contendcst with mc. Have I over boast-
ed, over loved ? That child had been always very
patient under rebukes, the remembrance of which
teacheth me how to behave under the rebukes of my
heavenly father. I have laid him in the cold earth :
I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me."
Many years after he writes, " This day fourteen
years, the Lord took my first born son from me,
the beginning of my strength, with a stroke. la

102 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

memory whereof my heart melted this evening.
1 bless the Lord that hath spared the rest, I entreat-
ed mercy for every one of them, absolutely and un-
reservedly dedicating them, myself, my whole self,
estate, interest, life, to the will of Him, from whom
I received all. Father, hallowed be thy name."

When his only surviving son had attained his
tenth year, he was seized with a lingering fever, and
so reduced, that his life was despaired of, and death
daily expected. The afflicted father, watching the
agonies of a promising and beloved child, was
sent for to preach at a considerable distance, and felt
it his duty to leave him, though perhaps he j^hould
see him alive no more on earth. He left his house
very sad in spirit, performed the work that was as-
signed him, returned, and his son still lived. " At
such a place and time upon the road," said he,
" I did most solemnly, freely and deliberately, re-
sign my dear child to God, to do what he pleased
with him and me." " And I believe, sir, (said an
aged and pious friend who came to assist in their
time of affliction) I believe, at that place and time,
God gave him back to you again," for from that
period he speedily and almost miraculously recover-
ed. His eldest sister writes, " I was then a child
of eight years, and could think but as a child,
yet this discourse very much affected me, and
tended to endear my brother more to me, who I
believed was-given back to us in an extraordinary
manner."

This worthy man had many times and measures
of affliction, being heir to the promise that " all
who would live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer
tribulation." Upon the death of Judge Puleston

REV. PHILIP HENRY. 103

and his lady, the rest of the family, not realizing
the value of a godly minister, and " loving this
present world," withheld his annuity and ejected
him from his office without alleging any fault, ex-
cept his not reading or using the Book of Common
Prayer. A servant of Mr. Puleston gave public
notice to the church that he was to be dismissed,
and the same day he preached his farewell dis-
course from Philippians i. 27. " Only let your con-
versation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ."
Soon after he retired to his wife's paternal estate
in Broad Oak, and though he ceased to preach to
this people he continued to love and pray for them,
still feeling as if a kind of relation subsisted be-
tween them.

On St. Bartholomew's day, 1662, he with a great
number of zealous, faithful ministers, was silenced
for not acceding to the act of uniformity. This was
his greatest affliction, to be debarred from his work,
which he considered as his honor and delight. In
the midst of his days and usefulness, in his glory and
prime, he was cast aside as a " despised broken ves-
sel in which there was no pleasure." The next
year he was imprisoned upon a false accusation of
plotting against government ; but nothing being
proved he was released, and returned to his house
with thanksgivings to God, and a fervent prayer that
he would forgive his enemies. He was a second
time imprisoned, for meeting with a few friends to
pray and seek the mercy of God, at the time the
plague raged with great fury at London.

The Five Mile Act then commenced, by which
every non-conformist minister was sentenced to six
months' imprisonment, if they approached within

104 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

five miles of any town or corporation where they had
formerly preached. Broad Oak was but four reput-
ed miles from Worthenburg, so he was compelled
to part from his beloved family, and afterwards re-
moved them also for a time, till the fury of the per-
secution turned away. In many other afflictions
and losses he participated with his injured brethren,
who were cut off from all means of support, and
" had no certain abiding place," while their suffer-
ings were the subjects of merriment in the luxurious
and abandoned court of the Second Charles. Yet
he sustained his troubles with the temper of a Chris-
tian, sorrowing most of all that he could not be
about his master's business. In his private capacity
he exerted himself to do good, in charity and hospi-
tality he was exemplary, and if he was not permitted
to preach, none could hinder his " prayers to the
God of his life."

But to recount his particular sufferings in the
cause of the gospel, would exceed my prescribed
limits ; they were rendered remarkable by the resig-
nation and deep feeling with which he sustained
them, his prayers for his enemies, and his affection
for the government which persecuted him and his
brethren. But after the accession of James, a
shadow of liberty was held out to the dissenters :
they beheld it, and rejoiced with trembling. They
were at first permitted to preach in their own houses,
and soon after, Mr. Henry, at the earnest request
of the people of Broad Oak, prepared one of his
own buildings for a ehurch, and ofHciated there as
minister until the time of his death.

As if regret at the loss of so much time, or a
presentiment of approaching death, stimulated liis

REV. rUILIP UENRT. 106

exertions, ho was observed to disregard himself and
his own eeuse, and to give his time and strength to
the work of the gospel. In the stated duties of the
Sabbath, lectures on week days, catechising, visit-
ing the sick, preaching in neighboring places, he
was active as in the days of youth and strength.
The national fasts, which were frequently appointed,
he observed with great solemnity, and from nine in
the morning till four in the afternoon never left the
pulpit, but spent the whole time in its various exer-
cises ; and it was noticed by his hearers that he
grew more lively and engaged towards the close of
the day, as if the spirit received greater supplies of
strength, when his frame was weary and exhausted.
All these laborious performances, in which he con-
tinued nine years, till his death, were without the
least profit or compensation, for he sought no per-
ishable riches, and was willing to spend and be
spent for Christ. At his own expense he distributed
the word of Ufe, and without doubt has now obtained
a durable reward.

About the year 1687, in the course of a few
months he performed the ceremony of marriage for
all his children, much to his satisfaction and com-
fort He preached a wedding sermon for each,
and when the last of them left his house, writes thus
in his diary. " We have sent hor away, not as
Laban said he would have sent his daughters away,
with mirth, and with songs, with tabret, and with
harp, but with prayers, and tears, and sincere good
wishes. And now we are alone as at the licginning ;
f»od enable us to finish well : the Lord be belter
unto us than many children."

His letters to them now breathed the aflection of
9

106 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

a parent, and the spirit of a counsellor, and some of
them preserved in an account of his life, shew that
while his chief desire was to have them approved of
God, he participated in all their joys, and in all their
afflictions was afflicted. They were ever on his
heart in his prayers and intercessions ; in his family
devotions he offered " offerings and petitions accor-
ding to the number and situation of them all," and
would sometimes say, " Can the children of so
many prayers be abandoned ?" Their remarkable
unity and love gave him great satisfaction, and when
he perceived that their transplantation into separate
families, had rather increased and confirmed it, he
gave fervent thanks to the God of all consolation,
and in his last will and testament inserted this peti-
tion : " That the Lord would build them up in holi-
ness, and continue them still in brotherly love, as a
bundle of arrows that cannot be broken."

His house was scarcely emptied of his own chil-
dren, when it was filled with those of his friends,
who were desirous that their families should enjoy
the benefit of his example and prayers. Many who
had completed their university education came to
pass some time under his care previous to their
entrance upon the ministry. To such he would
say, with his usual humility, "you come to me as
JVaaman did to Elisha, expecting that I should do
this and that great thing for you, when alas ! I can
only say as he did. Go ivmh in Jordan, Go sliidij the
Scriptures."

His constitution was naturally delicate, yet by
strict temperance, and regularity in diet and exer-
cise he retained health and strength for incredible
exertion. He was about the middle stature, and his

REV. PHILIP HENRY. 107

countenance expressed a gravity and sweetness
almost angelic ; yet when his parishioners earnest-
ly desired to have his portrait taken that they might
look upon it when he was no more, he would an-
swer affectionately " not so : the best picture of a
minister is in the heart's of his people." lie
had always accustomed himself to the medita-
tion of death, that its actual appearance might not
overwhelm him with terror. No presage no warn-
ing, announced its approach : on the morning of
his departure, he arose in vigorous health, and be-
gan his. family service. In his exposition he was
animated and copious, but in his prayer not so
much so as usual, for while in this duty, he was
taken with a sudden weakness, and received the
sentence of death in himself " Ilappy is that ser-
vant, whom his Lord when he cometh shall find
so doing."

Immediately afler prayer he retired to his
chamber, without mentioning his illness, and was
found in great extremity of pain, which no remedy
could relieve. His son was sent for, and at his
entrance he said, " O Son, you are welcome to
a dying father ; I am now ready to be offered up,
and the time of my departure is at hand." To his
neighbors he said, " make sure work for your souls,
get an interest in Christ while you are in health, for
if I had that to do now, what would become of me ?
but I bless God I am satisfied." The agonies of
death increased upon him, but he continued in
prayer, committing his soul to God. At ten at
night his pulse and his sight failed. This he no-
ticed, took an affectionate leave of his son, and con-
port, giving her " a thousand thanks for her care

108 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

and tenderness," left a blessing for his children
and their little ones, called anew upon God his Sal-
vation, and quietly resigned his soul unto him at one
o'clock on the morning of June 24th, in the 65th
year of his age. He died after an illness of 1 6
hours, and his last words upon earth were — " O
death, where is thy sting 1" It pleased God that this
servant, so eminent for prayer, should obtain his re-
peated request " never to outlive his usefulness ;"
it pleased him also that in the act of prayer he
should pass from this mutable state, to an haven of
everlasting rest.

REV. MATTHEW HENRY.

Matthew Henrv, the son of Philip Henry,
was born at Broad Oak, October. 28,
1662. 1662. In his infancy and childhood, he
was pecuHarly subject to the evils of a
delicate constitution ; but these neither hindered his
capacity, or inclination for learning. At three years
of age, he was able to read properly, and with some
observation of what he read ; and it is remarked
by a companion of his younger days, that he very
early put away childish things. His temper was
gtMille and submissive, and however astonishing it
may appear at the present day, it is confirmed by
unquestionable authority, that no angry or unkind
word ever passed between his sisters and himself,
the whole time of their continuance in their lather's
house. He was observed to be fond of preaching,
and so much aflected by it as to retire to his cham-
ber to weep and pray, and scarcely to be prevailed
upon to come down and dine on the liOrd's day,
lest ho should lose the forcible impression.

In his tenth year he was supposed to be the
subject of genuine conversion, and ever after con-
sidered himself as dedicated to God. Papers of
considerable length are preserved, written in his
thirteenth year, entitled " Spiritual and Temporal
Mercies and Ueliverances," in which with an im-
9*

110 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

derstanding far beyond his years, he notices several
interpositions of Providence, in behjJf of his family
and himself, and particularly gives thanks " for good
instructions, for good parents, for the means of
grace, for prayer, for succor and help under temp-
tation, for brokenness of heart, for an enlightening."

In 16S0, he went to London to complete his edu-
cation, and was there noticed for proficiency in
study, cheerfulness and frankness of disposition,
and a talent at introducing religious subjects in
common discourse. During his absence, he sel-
dom failed to write twice a week to his father,
making him the confidant of his temporal and spirit-
ual concerns, and his letters to him and other friends
breathe that spirit of piety, which had effectually
preserved him from the temptations and vanities of
youth. The silence and hardships imposed upon
dissenting ministers, prevented many from educat-
ing their sons to that profession, and by the advice
of influential friends, he was sent with several com-
panions to prosecute the study of law. He was
noticed as one likely to be eminent in that profes-
sion, as he possessed a quick apprehension, cor-
rect judgment, retentive memory, and remarka-
ble fluency of expression.

But his desire was to the work of the ministry,
notwithstanding the darkness of the times, for he
" esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches than
the treasures of Egypt." He promoted social
prayer and religious conference among the young
practitioners, frequently expounded the Scripture to
them, and at his departure bade them farewell in an
affectionate discourse from 2d Thess. — " By the
coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, and our gathering

REV. MATTHEW HENRY. Ill

together to him." Liberty, or occasional liberty of
preaching, began to be allowed to dissenters, and he
immediately commenced preaching as a candidate
for the ministry. Success attended his first attempts,
and a remarkable conversion was wrought by a
sermon of his, from this text, " With God is terrible
majesty." On the ninth of May, 1687, he was
ordained, and soon after complied with the earnest
solicitations of the people of Chester to come and
settle among them. In a short time he was married
to Miss Catharine Hardware, a person every way
accomplished . for an agreeable and suitable com-
panion. But the happiness of this union was of
short duration.

In httle more than a year after their marriage,
God was pleased to take her from the world, and
from tliis liis servant to separate the " desire of his
eyes with a stroke." A contemporary of Mr. Henry,
mentions how much he was ^fleeted by the solem-
nities of the ensuing Sabbath. The pious and aged
Mr. Philip Henry came to comfort his son on this
mournful occasion, and preached from the pathetic
request of Job, " Show me wherefore thou con-
tendest with me." At the conclusion of the service,
the bereaved man came forward to present in baptism
his only child, an infant just introduced into a world
of tears. He uttered again a confession of his faith,
renewed his covenant, and the tears of the audience
were muigled with his, when he gave tlie motherless
child to the baptismal font, and added, " altliough
my house be not now so with God, yet he hatli
made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in
all things and sure, and this is all my salvation and
all my desire, although he make me not to grow ;

112 BIOGHAPIiy OF PIOUS PERSONS.

yet according to the tenor of this covenant offer I
up this my child unto the great God, a plant out of a
dry ground, desiring that it may be im{>lanted into
Christ."

In his ministerial labors, stated and occasional,
he was an example of diligence and activity. Be-
side his preaching upon the Sabbath, lecture days,
and fast days, which were frequent, he catechised
and explained the catechism on Saturdays, at-
tended two conferences in the week, one for
young persons where religious questions were pro-
posed and decided, and another for conversation
upon experimental piety. He preached to the ma-
lefactors in the castle of Chester, for the space of
twenty years, with some appearance of success, and
his sermons were so much esteemed in other places,
and his help so often requested, that scarce a week
elapsed in which he did not preach several times,
in the neighboring towns, sometimes at the distance
of thirty miles. In his preaching at Chester he
began and completed a regular body of divinity,
interrupting it only by occasional sermons adapted
to the peculiar circumstances of his flock, or vary-
ing state of public affairs. He expounded to them
th^ whole of the Bible in course, more than once,
so that the people of Chester were observed lo excel
in the knowledge and understanding of the Scrip-
tures. In visiting the sick he was uncommonly
attentive, sometimes devoting a part of every day
to the duty, and visiting live or six in a dav, while
his diary records the variations of their si< kness,
and situation of their minds.

But in no part of his office did he excel more than
in prayer. " In this," says a pious writer, who had
often listened to him, " he had a wonderful faculty ot

Rev. Matthew henry. 113

engajOfinf; attention and raising the affections, and
though copious was never tedious." His people,
who placed unbounded confidence in him, would
frequently solicit his advice for the direction of any
consequential affair, and though his judgment and
knowledge of human nature were unquestionable, he
hesitated to give his advice unless it was sanctified
by prayer. Thus when the people of his charge
were under ap{)rehension of danger, about to take a
journey, or to part w ith a child, their minister was
found with them, to assist, or to counsel, and to
recommend their particular case to the notice and
favor of a prayer-hearing God. This variety of
employment was attended faithfully and discharged
affectionately without interfering with family duties,
or preventing those literary labors which were
afterwards to instruct the world. He was enabled to
accomplish so much, by the divine blessing upon his
constant improvement of time, and daily prayers for
divine assistance. He never presumed to attempt
any thing without dedicating it to God by prayer,
and his diary gratefully records many evident an-
swers of |>etitions ; " even in the day when he cried
he was answered, and strengthened with strength
in his soul."

Some time after the vacancy made in his family
by the death of his wife, he was again married to
Miss Mary Warburton, a woman of much piety, and
who seemed to increase the measure of his earthly
happiness. The loss of three children called him
again to mourning and \vo, and in the midst of
those sorrows of which his heart was tenderly sus-
ceptible, the deep submission and faith of a Christian
were seen to triumph. " AH is well that God doeth ;

114 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

he performeth the thing that is appointed for me, to-
make me meet for his glory." Five daughters and
a son were continued to him, and in his method of
education,, he followed the excellent example of his
father, and had the pleasure of seeing his work
prosper in his hands.

Among his greatest afflictions was the death of his
beloved father. In his diary, the faith.'ul witness
between him and his soul, he poured forth his sorrows
without restraint. " What is this that God hath
done unto us 1 he calleth my sins to remembrance
this day. Our morning worship was as the ark of
weeping ; among the neighbors lamentation and
mourning ; my dear mother cast down, but not in
despair ; I myself, full of confusion, and as a man
astonished." At considerable length he gives vent
to the feelings of a wounded and a humbled soul,
for his heart was ever keenly sensible to the claims
of affection, gratitude and friendship. The next
year he followed to the tomb his two youngest sisters,
and two years after, two of his brothers-in-law. Ta
extract his pathetic expressions of grief, his inter-
cession that these sorrows might be subservient to
his future joy, would exceed my prescribed limits,
yet could I wish that every Christian might read and
profit from the sufferings of one deeply afflicted,
yet " strong in the faith, giving glory to God."

By the death of his last brother-in-law, a large
family of children were left orphans. Notwith-
standing the great number of his burdens, he took
npon him the care of their encumbered estate,
received several of them into his house, and so
educated and provided for them, that they knew not
the want of father or mother^ and felt not the mise-.

RKV. MATTHEW HENRY. 116

ries of orphanage. Their estate improved by his
economy, and their souls by his aflectionate instruc-
tions, will doubtless like the alms and prayers of the
centurion " come up for a memorial before God."

For twenty-four years he had never been absent
from Chester at their monthly Sacrament, and so
attached was he to his flock, that repeated solicita-
tions to become the pastor of three different church-
es in London, were refused. But at length the
earnest entreaties of the people of Hackney, who
would accept no denial, and the opinion of the
ministers he most valued, that it was his duty to
accept of a sphere of more extensive usefulness
led him to deliberate upon the measure. Solemn
and earnest prayer recommended the event to God,
and the reluctant consent of his people upon the
ground of his greater usefulness seemed to remove
the barrier to its accomplishment. Their parting
was upon the Lord's day. May 11, 1612, and his
farewell discourse from 1st Thess. iv. 17, 18.
" We shall be forever with the Lord, wherefore
comfort one another with these words." He writes
in review — " a very sad day ; O that by the sadness
of our countenances our hearts may be made better.
I look back with sorrow ; I \ook forward with fear ;
but unto thee, O Lord, do I look up,"

Upon his entrance to a larger field of service, it
became evident that he was calculated for great
exertions, and that such a burning and shining light
ought not to have been confined to narrow limits.
He now frequently preached four times on the sab-
bath, and every day in the week, for several weeks
successively, and sometimes thrice on the same day.
He seemed to realize that the time of his departure

116 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

was at hand, and his motion in duty and holiness
was accelerated, as he approached the centre of his
rest. The next year he went on a visit to his flock
at Chester, having promised at his departure to
spend some Sabbaths with them every year, and in
his annual review of mercies, mentions gratefully,
" the comforts of that journey, and happy state of
his congregation."

The ensuing year he again visited them, not know-
ing that he came to deposit his bones among them.
His last sermon to them was from Hebrews ; " Let
us therefore fear, lest a promise being left us of
entering into rest, any of you should seem to come
short of it." On Monday he left them, in usual
health, preached on the road, was taken ill at the
house of a friend, and said, " you have been used to
take notice of the sayings of dying men, and this is
mine ; that a life spent in the service of God, and
communion with him, is the most comfortable and
pleasant life that any can live in this world." The
next morning at five, June 22, 1714, his spirit
quietly departed to Him who gave it.

The number of his printed works is thirty-two,
of which the largest are his Scripture Expositions in
five folio volumes. Each of these was commenced,
finished and sent into the world, with particular and
earnest prayer that it might be the instrument of
good, and by them, he, being dead, yet speaketh.
The venerable author from whose works I have
condensed this little accountof a most extraordinary
man, says, " that the one half has not been told
us, of his unwearied diligence and exemplary jticly."

SUSANNA BICKS.

This child, whose life and death might serve as a
pattern for experienced Christians, was a native of
Holland, and born at Ley den, January
1650. 24th, 1650. Her parents gave her re-
ligious instruction, as soon as she was
capable of receiving it, and delighted to present her
to the ministers of the place, that she might be
taught and catechised by them. The divine bles-
sing descended upon their efforts, and almost as
soon as she could speak and act, she put away childish
things. She was attentive to her studies, strictly
dutiful to her parents, of a sweet and humble dispo-
sition, fond of the institutions of religion, and con-
scientious in secret prayer. Her amiable deport-
ment was not only proposed as a pattern of imita-
tion for other children, but even older persons found
themselves both edified and reproved by her exem-
plary life and conversation.

In the summer of 1664, when the pestilence ra-
ged terribly in Holland, this sweet child was smit-
ten, and declined her little head, like some broken
flower — drooping, yet beautiful. Bending beneath
the anguish of that cruel disease she said with great
feeling — " If thy laws were not my delight I should
now perish in my afthction." Her father, coming
10

118 BIOCnAFHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

to encourage her, said, " Be of good comfort, my
child ; God will be near thee and us, under this
heavy trial — he will not forsake, though he chasten
us." "jOur heavenly Father," she answered, " chas-
tens us for our profit, that we may be partakers of
his holiness ; and though for the present it is not joy-
ous but grievous, it yieldeth afterwards the peacea-
ble fruits of righteousness. The Lord is now chas-
tening me upon this bed, but I hope he will so bless
it that it may yield blessed fruit, according to his
mercies which fail not." Then with her eyes lifted
to heaven, she prayed, " Be merciful to me, O Fa-
ther ; be merciful to me a sinner, according unta
thy word."

Looking again upon her sorrowful parents, she
said — " Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he
shall sustain thee ; he will never suffer the right-
eous to be moved." Therefore, my dear mother,
cast all your care upon him, who will cause all things
to go well that concern you." Her mother answer-
ed, " O, my dear child, God by his grace has given
me great comfort in thee, in thy religious temper,
thy attention in reading the Scripture, prayer and pi-
ous discourse, to the edification of us as well as
thyself. The Lord hitnself, who gave thee to us,
make up this loss, if it be his pleasure to take thee
away." " Dear mother," said the pious child," though
I must leave you, and you me, yet God will never
leave either of us. It is said. Can a woman forget
her child ? yea,, she may tbrget, yet will I not for-
get thee : behold I have graven thee upon the palms
of my hands. Oh, comfortable words, both for
mother and children,"

Being fatigued with her exertions in speaking, she

SUSANNA BICK8. 119

sank into a slumber, and as she awoke inquired
what day it was. On being told it was the Sabbath,
she immediately asked her father if he had recom-
mended her to the public prayers of the church. He
assured her he had. " I have learned," said she,
" that the effectual fervent prayer of the righteous
availcth much." She had a high esteem for the
faithftd ministers of Christ, and delighted in their
conversation, but knowing the danger that such a
visit would expose them to, she would not consent
that they should come near her person, but cast her-
self wholly on the Lord, and found great comfort in
her uncommon knowledge of the Scriptures.

Though so young, she was greatly concerned for
the interests of religion, and the welfare of its min-
isters. Her father, coming in to see her, one day,
was much astonished to find her weeping violently,
and inquiring what distressed her, was answered —
" Have I not cause to weep, when I have just heard
that our minister was taken sick to-day in his pulpit,
and went home very ill ? Is not this a sad sign of
God's displeasure to our country, when he smiteth
such a faithful pastor ?' — Thus she who could en-
dure the bitter pains of her own sickness without
murmuring, mourned bitterly for the sorrow of the
church of God. She entertained a low opinion of
herself, and her own merits, and would often exclaim,
*' The sacrifices of God are a contrite heart ; a
broken, and a contrite spirit, O God, thou wilt not
despise. I desire that brokenness of heart which is
built upon and flows from faith, and that faith which
is built upon Christ, who is the only sacrifice for
sin."

Soon after, as she awoke from sleep, she said —

120 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

" O dear father, and mother, how weak do I feel."*
" My dear," said her father, "God in his tender mer-
cy will strengthen your weakness." " Yes, Father,"
sjhe replied, " that is my confidence ; — for it is writ-
ten, A bruised reed will he not break, and the smo-
king flax he will not quench." She then discours-
ed on the nature of faith, and requested to hear the
11th of Hebrews, upon which she remarked — " O,
what a steadfast faith w as that of Abraham, which
made him willing to offer up his only son. Truly,
faith is the substance of things hoped for ; the evi-
dence of things not seen."

Her parents, seeing her deportment, and hearing
her wisdom and piety, so far above her years, burst
into tears, and bemoaned their dying child, with all
the tenderness of wounded affection. " O," said
she, " why do you weep so over me, since if the
Lord take me out of this miserable world, it shall be
well with me through all eternity. You ought to be
satisfied, seeing God is in heaven, and doeth what-
soever he pleaseth ; and do you not pray every day
that his will may be done on earth as it is in heaven ?
Now, father, this is God's will, that I should lie up-
on this bed, and be sick of this disease ; and shall
Vfe not be content when our prayers are answered ?
Is not extreme sorrow murmuring against God,
without whose good pleasure nothing comes to pass ?
Although I am struck with this sad disease, yet be-
cause it is the will of God let that silence us ; and
I will, as long as I live, pray that his will, and not
mine, be done."

Seeing them still much afflicted, she spoke of tlu:
particular providence of God — " The hairs of oui
head are all numbered : — fear not ; ve arc of more

SUSANNA BICK8. 121

value than many sparrows. Adversity and pros-
perity are both good ; and though some things may
seem evil in our eyes, the Lord turns them all to
the good of those who are his." She then spoke of
the plague which raged with such violence, as a
judgment of God, and not as the infidels accounted
it, the natural production of the elements.

Awaking from slumber she exclaimed — " Oh
this is the day for explaining the first question of
the Catechism, and if we were there we should
hear that whether in life or in death a believer is
Christ's. Then be comforted ; for whether I live
or die I shall be the Lord's ] Oh ! Why do you af-
flict yourselves thus 1 But what shadl I say ? With
weeping I came into this world, and with weeping I
must go out again. But oh, my dear parents, bet-
ter is the day of my death than the day of my birth."
She then desired her father to pray with her, and to
entreat that she might have a quiet and peaceable
passage into another world. When he had conclu-
ded, he asked if she would again see the physician.
She answered " No — for I am beyond his help." —
But, my child, replied he, we are to use the appoint-
ed means, and leave the event to the Lord." "Yet,"
she said, " let me lean upon the heavenly physician :
he is my helper. Does he not say — Come unto me,
all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will
give you rest ? and hath he not bid us call upon him
in the day of trouble, and promised to deliver us that
we may glorify him 1 Therefore, dear father, call
upon him yet again for me."

Her affection for the Holy Scriptures, and for her
Catechism, was remarkable, and she frequently en-
treated her father to go particularly to the ministers
10*

122 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

who had catechised and instructed her in religion,
and thank them in the name of a dying child, and
tell them how comforting their words were to her in
the time of her distress. She requested also (hat
her sincere thanks might be given to the instructors
who had taught her to read and work ; for she
thought she could not express gratitude enough to
those who had shown her kindness and attention.

When her father expressed the satisfaction he
had taken in her progress in learning, particularly
her diligence in reading the Scriptures, and writing,
her constant obedience, and love to the ordinances
of religion, she answered with great sweetness —
" I desire to bless God for his kindness in granting
me a godly education, and giving me the instruction
of such parents and ministers, which I esteem a far
better portion than 10,000 guilders, for thus I have
learned to comfort myself out of the word of God ;
and this comfort the world could never have afford-
ed." " My child," said her afTcctionate father, " 1
perceive you are very weak." " It is true, sir," said
she, " that I feel my weakness increasing, and that
I see your affliction increasing also, is a part of my
affliction. But be content, I pray you, it is the
Lord that doeth it ; and let us both say with David
— ' Let us fall into his hand ; for his mercies are
^•cat.' "

■She frequently charged her parents, not to grieve
forlier after her death, and recommended to them
the example of David, who while his child was
sick fasted and wept, but after its death, raised him-
self from the earth, and received refreshment, say-
ing— " he is now dead. Can I bring him back
again ? — I shall go to him but he shall not return to

SUSANNA BICKS. 123

me." So ought you to say after my deulh. Our
child is well ; — for we know it shall be well with
them that trust in the Lord. My dear mother, who
hath done so much for me, you must promise mo
one thinn; before 1 die, — and that is not to sorrow
too much for mc ; 1 speak this to you particularly,
because I am afraid of your great affliction. Con-
sider other losses ; remember those of Job. For-
get not what Christ foretold : in the world ye shall
have tribulation ; but be of good cheer, in me yo
shall have peace. Must the apostles suffer so great
tribulation, and we suller none? Did not Jesus
(.'hrist, my only life and Saviour, sweat great drops
of blood, endure mockings and agony, be nailed (o
a cross, and have liis blessed side pierced with a
spear ? Did he not cry out. My God, My God, why
hast thou forsaken me ? Did he not purchase for
mc the garments of righteousness ? — There is sal-
vation in no other name. O that I might slec|)
ijuietly on his bosom, and that till then he would
strengthen me. Oh ! that he would receive me as
those little ones, whom he took into his arms, and
said — Of such is the kingdom of heaven. I lie
here as a child. O Lord, 1 am thy child, receive
me into thine arms, O Lord ! grace and not jus-
tice ; for if thou shouldst enter into judgment with
me, I cannot stand ; and none living would be just
in thy sight." While she was thus comforting her
friends out of the Scriptures, she seemed to attain
a strong conlidence in God. " Who shall separate
me from the love of Christ? 1 am persuaded nei-
ther life nor death, angels, princi|)a1ities or powers,
things present, or things to come, height, depth,
or any other creature. Christ saith. My sheep hear

124 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

my voice, I know them and they follow me, and no
man shall pluck them out of my hands."

In a triumph of faith, she exclaimed — " Death is
swallowed up in victory : O death, where is thy
sting ? — O grave, where is thy victory ? The sting
of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law :
thanks be to God who giveth us the victory, through
our Lord Jesus Christ." That she might better
satisfy the minds of her mourning friends, she dis-
coursed of the shortness of life, and the necessary
law of nature appointing all men once to die. " O
what is the life of man ; he is like the grass upon
the earth, — hke the flower of the field, which the
wind passes over, and it is gone, and its place shall
know it no more. We are all from the earth, and
to the earth we must return : the dust shall turn to
dust, whence it first was, and the spirit to God who
gave it." She urged also the sin and sorrow attend-
ant upon the present life, as an argument to be ready
to resign it. — " The longer we live, the more we
sin : but now the Lord will free me from that sin
and sorrow. What shall I say ? My life shall not
continue long, for I feel much weakness. O Lord,
look upon me graciously ; have pity upon me. I
am oppressed : — undertake for me that I may stand
fast and overcome."

She was frequent in prayer, and in spiritual
ejaculations, and it gave her great comfort to re-
member that Christ interceded for her. " Oh !
without Christ I can do nothing. He is the true
vine. Let me be a branch in that vine. What
poor worms are we ; and how lame and halting do
we go on in the ways of salvation. We know now
but in part ; but when that which is perfect shall

SUSANNA B1CK8. 126

come, imperfection shall he done away. But what
are we ourselves? Not only weakness but wick-
edness : for we are by nature children of wrath.
But oh ! thanks be to God, who has redeemed us
from sin."

She comforted her parents with the strong assur-
ance she had of everlasting happiness. " Christ
hath said, in my father's house are many mansions ;
I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am
ye may be also. My dear mother, he hath prepared
a dwelling for me ; — O Lord, come, and take me to
thyself." — " My child," said her mother, " he will
strengthen you by his Holy Spirit, until he hath fully
prepared you for your appointed place." " Yes,
dear mother I am more and more spent, and draw
near my last hour." She then desired to be prayed
with, that she might have an easy passage.

She was much concerned for the souls of her re-
lations, and particularly enjoined upon her father,
that he should bring up her sister as she had been,
and instruct her in her catechism and in the things
of God. " I formerly wept for my sister," said she,
" thinking she would die before me ; and now she
weeps for me." She then kissed her weeping sis-
ter ; and taking her little sister, an infant of six
months old into her arms, she kissed it with much
affection, and spoke to parents and children with
such tender solicitude as greatly affected all who
were present. Her father told one of the atten-
dants to take the infant from her, as he feared the
hazard of that licry distemper, and had alnsady too
much to bear. " Father," answere<l tlie sufFcrer,
" »lid not God preserve the three children in tht! tiery
furnace ?— and did you not teach me that Scripture,

126 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

When thou passest through the fire thou shall not
be burnt, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee?"
The doctrine of the resurrection gave her spirit
much comfort, and far beyond her age she would
repeat and apply those Scriptures, which speak of
the future glory of this decaying and mouldering
body. " It is sown in corruption, it is raised in-
corruptible ; it is sown in dishonor, it shall be raised
in glory ; it is sown in weakness, it shall be raised
in power. Behold ! thus it shall be with my mor-
tal flesh. Blessed are the dead, who die in the
Lord, because they rest from their labors. They
shall enter into peace, they shall rest in their beds :
every one who walketh in uprightness. Behold,
now, father I shall rest and sleep in that bed-cham-
ber. I know that my Redeemer liveth ; and shall
stand in the latter day upon the earth ; and though
after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my
flesh shall I see God. Dear Father, this skin, and
perishing flesh which you see, shall be raised up
again ; and these eyes which are now so dim shall
on that day behold my dear Redeemer ; and though
the worms devour my flesh, yet with these eyes shall
I behold God for myself. Marvel not at this ; for
the hour is coming, in which all that are in their
graves shall hear his voice, and come forth : and I
shall rise in that day, and behold my Redeemer.
Then shall he say unto me, Come, blessed of my
father, inherit what was prepared for you from the
foundation of the world. Behold, now I live : yet
not I but Christ Uveth in me ; and the life I now
live in the flesh, is by the faith of the son Son of
God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. I
am saved : — yet nOt of myself : — not of works, lest

SUSANNA BICKS. 127

any man should boast My dear parents, we must
now shortly part : — my speech faileth me : — pray to
the Lord for a quiet close to my combat."

The afflicted parents both exclaimed, " Ah !
our dear child, how sad is it that we must part." —
" I go," said the dying one, " to heaven, where wo
shall find each other again. I go to Jesus Christ.
I go to my dear brother, who did so much cry and
call upon God to the last moment of his breath. I
go to my little sister who was but three years old,
when she died, who when we asked her if she
should die, answered, yes, if it be the Lord's will : —
or I will stay with my mother, if it be the Lord's
will : — but yet, I know that I shall die, and go to
heaven, and to God. O see how so small a babe
could behave itself so submissively to the will of
God, as if it had no will of its own. Therefore,
dear father and mother, give the Lord thanks for
this his free and rich grace, an(> then I shall the
more gladly be gone. Be gracious, then, O Lord,
unto me also : be gracious unto me, wash me thor-
oughly from mine unrighteousness and cleanse me
from my sin."

After this prayer her spirit was refreshed with a
sense of tlie pardon of her sin, so that she cried out
with fervency, — :" Behold, God hath washed away
my sins, and oh ! how I long to die. The apostle
said, In this body we earnestly sigh and groan, long-
ing for our house which is in heaven, that we may
be clothed therewith. Now I also lie here sighing
and longing for that dwelling which is above. In
the last sermon which I shall ever hear, I heard this,
which is a source of great comfort to me." She
then repeated several Scriptures which were quoted

128 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

in that sermon, proving with what attention she
had listened, and how perfect her powers of recol-
lection were to the last. She then desired that
prayers might be offered, that her sins might be for-
given, that she might have the assurance of faith,
and continuation of divine strength and comfort as
her necessities might require.

After being for some time absorbed in mental de-
votion, she entreated her parents to forgive the er-
rors of her childhood, and to forget the occasions
wherein she had grieved, and given them trouble.
She thendistributed her books, particularly request-
ing her brother never to part with the " Lectures
on the Catechism," but to study them in remem-
brance of her. Feeling a severe pain in her breast,
she said she was assured that her last hour drew
nigh ; and her parents suppressed their grief to tell
her that God would undoubtedly strengthen her in
the hour of her extremity.

" He is my Shepherd, she replied. Though I
walk through the dark valley of the shadow of death,
shall I fear, when he comforteth me ? The suffer-
ings of this present life, arc not worthy to be com-
pared to the glory that shall be revealed. Ye are
bought with a price : ye are washed, ye are sancti-
fied, in the name of our Lord Jesus, and by the
spirit of our God. My end approacheth. Now
shall I put on white raiment, and be clothed before
the Lamb with his spotless righteousness. Angels
are ready to carry me before the throne of God."

This she spoke with a dying voice, but full of
the animation of hope and faith. After a j)ause,
she once more addressed her weeping parents.
" Wc know, that if this eartlily house, this tabcrna-

SUSANNA BICKS. 129

cle, be dissolved, we have one built of God, eternal
in the heavens. For this, we sigh earnestly. Fa-
ther, this tabernacle of my body is broken down ;
but the soul which partcth from it, shall be taken
to the heavenly paradise, the New Jerusalem.
There shall I dwell, and go no more out, but sing
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts, the God of
Sabaoth." Her last words were, " Lord God,
into thy hands I commend my spirit. O Lord, be
gracious, be merciful to me, a poor sinner."

Having uttered these words, she fell asleep, on
September 1st, 1664, between seven and eight in
in the evening, in the fourteenth year of her age.
The account of this extraordinary child was first
printed in Holland, and afterwards translated from
the original Dutch, by a pious man, who was desi-
rous that the benefit of such an example might be
more widely extended. Let it animate parents to
|)ersevere in the duties of religious instruction, and
children to be more fervent in prayer that they may
be enabled to live the life, and die the death of the
righteous.

11

FJENEIiON, ARCHBISHOP OF
CAMBRAY.

Francis de Salignac, de la Motte Fenelon^
was born in the castle of Fenelon, in the department

of Dordogne, in France. At the age
1651. of twelve years he left the instructions ©r

his father for the university of Cahors, and
afterwards went to complete his studies at Paris,,
under the care of his uncle, the Marquis of Fenelon.-
He soon began to be known and celebrated at
Paris, and at the early age of nineteen, preached
there with the most unbounded applause. But the
Marquis, who was possessed at once of piety, and a.
knowledge of the human mind, fearing that the com-
mendations of the world might inflate his young
heart with vanity, or seduce it from the simplicity of
the gospel, persuaded him to imitate for several
years the silence of Jesus Christ,

But his virtues and talents could not be entirely
hidden, and his fame began to be sounded at court,
so that king Louis XIV. appointed him to conduct
a mission for the conversion of the Protestants, on
the coast of Saintonge. He appointed a strong
military force to assist his exertions, but the young
Abb^ Fenelon, abhorring the sanguinary measures
often resorted to by their church, refused to be con-

ARCHBISHOP FENBLON. 131

cemed in the mission, if the troops were ordered to
accompany him. His Hrmness defeated the ill-
appointed design, and while the objects of his mis-
sion received that mild and gentle treatment which
coincides with the spirit of the gospel, the unfortunate
Protestants in the other parts of France, were given
lip to the dreadful effects of the most inhuman per-
secution. At his return from his mission he ab-
sented himself for two years from the splendor of a
dissipated court ; preferring to cultivate in retire-
ment the powers of his mind, and the principles of
piety.

At the age of twenty-seven, he was appointed Su-
perior to the new female converts in Paris. A few
years after, he published an excellent treatise on fe-
male education, which was so highly esteemed, that
the king appointed him preceptor to his grandchil-
dren, the young Dukes of Burgundy and Anjou.
In 1695, his merits were rewarded with the Abbey
of St. Valery, and shortly after with the Archbish-
opric of Cambray. He then relinquished of his
own accord the Abbey of St. Valery, thinking it
wrong to hold a plurality of benefices. Though
blameless in his life and conversation, he was not
exempt from the machinations of enmity and re-
venge, and was forced by them to leave the court
forever. It was supposed that his firmness in per-
suading the king not to proclaim Madame de Main-
tenon, Queen of France, was the real cause of his
banishment ; though the ostensible reason was his
pubUcation of a book, entitled " An Explication
of the maxims of the Saints," which the Pope con-
demned as heretical.

Retiring from the storms of public life, to the

132 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

tranquil shades of his own diocese, he discharged
punctually all the holy duties of his ofiico, and led
a pious and exemplary life. Some of the fruits of
his leisure, were the volume entitled " Adventures
of Telemachus," written in a fine style, containing
maxims which advance the happiness of mankind,
and a most sublime moral. His enemies in the
court of Louis, prevailed upon that monarch to
stop the printing of it at Paris, but its mtrinsic merit
established its fame throughout Europe. His rest-
less foes endeavored with unceasing mahce to
deprive him of the Archbishopric of Cambray,
but he still retained that office, and continued to
delight all who were within the sphere of his influ-
ence, by gentle piety, and ineffable sweetness of
manners.

His enemies, defeated in this attempt, placed in
his neighborhood an ecclesiastic of high birth, with
the title of his Grand Vicar, to be a spy upon all
his actions. But having long observed the pure
and spotless heart which he had been employed to
calumniate, struck with remorse, he came and
threw himself at the feet of Fcnclon, confessed the
unworthy part which he had been engaged to per-
form, implored his forgiveness, and sought to cover
his shame in retirement. Meekly sustained was
this sweet triumph of rectitude of heart, and sin-
cere piety. So universal was the fame of his good-
ness and virtue, that in the last year of the war with
Louis XIV., the Duke of Marlborough gave orders
to his troops " not to plunder the estate of the ami-
able Fenelon." Thus peculiarly favored, he direct-
ed his benevolent attentions to those who suflered.
He iBSsemblcd m lus palace the unfortunate people,

ARCHBISHOP FENELON. 133

whom the horrors of war had driven from their
dwellings, fed them at his own table, and a.^'Sisted
them by many acts of kindness.

One day as he was waiting upon a'numerons com-
pany, he observed one of the peasants did not eat,
and tenderly inquired the reason. " Alas ! my lord,"
said the poor man, " when I fled from my cottage,
I had not time to bring away a cow that nourished my
family ; the enemy will carry her off", and I shall never
be able to find so good a one." Rising from his table,
the benevolent Archbishop took one of his domes-
tics, left the city immediately, found the animal, and
brought her himself to the peasant. In no moment
of honor, applause, or acquisition of fortune, did he
realize such simple and real delight, as when, driving
before him the cow of the poor peasant, he thought
of the hearts that this humble and fearless act had
made glad. He would often walk to the cottages
of the poor in the environs of Cambray, seat himself
among them, and listen to their tales of sorrow, that
he might better know how to sooth, comfort and
reUevc them. " There," they would say, after his
death, " There is the wooden chair, in which our
good Archbishop used to sit among us. Ah ! we
shall never see him more." — They spoke his name
with the deepest reverence and aflection, and thought
of him, as if he had been an angel.

In the beginning of the 17th century, the young
prince spent some time with him at his palace in
Cambray. In the course of his instructions he
earnestly dissuaded him from using the arm of force
and persecution, in matters of religion, as was the
too prevalent custom of those bigoted ages. — " No
human power," said he, " can have any authority
11*

134 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

over the freedom of the mind. Violence may m<ikc
hypocrites, but it can never persuade the heart ;
and to bring such proselytes to religion is not to
protect, but debase it." — Thus lived the amiable
Fenelon, in the practice of every virtue which true
piety inculcates. His death was hastened by
casualty. As he was taking the air in a retired
part of his estate, the horses took a sudden fright,
and the carriage was overturned. A contusion
which he then received, occasioned an inflammation
in the breast, which terminated his life, on the eighth
of January, 1715, at the age of 64.

He was a Christain who highly prized, and sta-
tedly availed himself of the privilege of prayer.
" Such is our dependance upon God," he writes,
" that we are obliged to seek from him the very
power of right action. This necessity of having
recourse to him in all our wants, instead of being
grievous should be our greatest consolation. What
a happiness that we arc allowed to speak to him
with confidence, to open our hearts and hold familiar
conversation with him by prayer. lie himself in-
vites us to it ; and we may judge how ready he is to
give us those good things which he himself solicits
us to ask of him. Let us pray then with faith, and
not lose the fruit of our prayers, by a wavering
uncertainty, which the apostle James testifies hin-
ders their success. He advises us to pray when we
are in trouble, because thereby we shall find conso-
lation ; yet are we so wretched that this heavenly
employment is often a burden more than a comfort
to us. The lukewarmncss of our prayers is the
source of all our other infidelities. Our Saviour
said — ' usk, and ye shall iind ; — seek, and ye shall

ARCHBISHOP FENELON. 135

obtain; — knock, and it shall be opened to you.'
It' riches were to be had for asking, with what ear-
nestness, assiduity and perseverance, would men ask
for them. If treasures were to be found with
looking for them, what place, what corner would
escape search? If by knocking they could gain
admittance into the king's counsel, or the highest
places of preferment, what a knocking should wo
hear ] Divine grace . is the only true good, yet the
only thing they neglect ; the only thing which they
have not patience to wait for. The promises of
Christ are infallibly certain, and it is our own fault if
we do not find their blessed effect."

To these sentiments of the admirable Fenelon,
1 add a prayer of his, expressive of that profound
humility which ever characterized his piety. — " O
Lord ! I know not what I should ask of thee.
Thou only knowest what I want : and thou lovest
me better than I can love myself. O Lord, give to
one who desires to be thy child, what .is proper,
whatsoever it may be. I dare not ask either com-
forts or crosses. I only present myself before thee :
I open my heart unto thee. Behold those wants
which I am ignorant of: but do thou behold and do
according to thy mercy. Smite or heal : depress,
or raise me up : — I adore all thy purposes without
knowing them : I am silent : I offei- myself in. sacri-
fice. I abandon myself to thee ; having no greater
desire than to accomplish thy will. Teach me to
pray. Pray thou thyself in me." — Thus humble,
thus childlike was this eminent saint in the presence
of his God ; — emptying himself of all that the
world might call talents and goodness, and clothing
his soul with the simplicity of Christ.

136 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS.

Another prayer of his is inserted at the close of
one of his works, entitled " A Demonstration of
the Existence, Wisdom, and Omnipotence of God,'*
drawn from a survey of nature, particularly of man.
With the eye of a philosopher, and a Christian, he
explores his subject, and clothes his remarks in the
robe of unvarnished elegance, while the great works
of the Deity elevated his soul to sublime adoration.
To use the words of a fine writer — " this supplica-
tion is the voice of an happy and untroubled spirit,
or like the worship of an angel concerned for those
who had fallen, though himself still in the state of
glory and innocence."

" Oh ! my God, if the greater part of mankind
do not discover thee in that glorious show of nature
which thou has placed before our eyes, it is not be-
cause thou art far from any one of us. Thou art
present to us more than any object that we touch
with our hands ; but our senses, and the passions
they produce in us, turn our attention from thee.
Thy light shineth in the midst of darkness, but the
darkness comprehendeth it not. Thou, O Lord,
dost every way display thyself. Thou shinest in
all thy works, but art not regarded by heedless, un-
thinking man. The whole creation speaks loudly
of thee, and echoes with the repetition of thine ho-
ly name. But such is our insensibility, that we are
deaf to the great and universal voice of nature.
Thou art every where about us, and within us ; —
but we wander from ourselves, become strangers to
our own souls, and do not apprehend thy presence.
O Thou, who art the eternal fotmtain of light and
beauty, who art the ancient of days, without begin-
ning and without end : — O Thou, who art the life

ARCHBISHOP FENELON. 137

of all that truly live, those can never fail to find
thee who seek for thee within {hcmsclves. But
alas ! — the very gifts which thou bestowest upon
us, do so employ our thoughts, that thoy hiiulor us
from perceiving the hand that conveys them to us.
^Ve live by Thee, and yet live without thinking on
thee : — yet, O Lord, what is life in the ignorance of
thee ? A dead, inactive piece of matter, a flower
that withers, a river that glides away, a palace that
hastens to its ruin, a picture made up of fading
colors, or a mass of shining ore, strike our imagina-
tions, and make us sensible of their existence. We
regard them as objects capable of giving us pleas-
ure, not considering that thou conveyest through
them all the pleasure which we imagine they give
us. Such vain, empty objects that are only the
shadows of being, are proportioned to our low and
grovelling thoughts. That beauty which thou hast
poured out on the creation, is as a veil which hides
thee from our eyes. As thou art a being too pure
and exalted to pass through our senses, thou art not
regarded by men who have debased their nature,
and made themselves like the beasts that perish.
So infatuated are they, that notwithstanding they
know what is wisdom and virtue, which have neither
sound, nor color, nor smell, nor taste, nor figure,
nor any other sensible quality, they can doubt of thy
existence because thou art not apprehended by the
grosser organs of sense. Wretches that we are !
we consider shadows as realities, and truth as a
phantom. That which is nothing is all to us : — that
which is all appears to us as nothing. What do wc
see in all nature but thee, O my God ! Thou — and
only thou, appearest in every thing. When I con-

138 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

aider thee, O my God, I am swallowed up and lost
in contemplation of thee. Every thing, besides
thee, even my own existence, vanishes and disap-
pears in the contemplation of thee. I am lost to
myself, and fall into nothing when I think on thee.
The man who does not see thee has beheld noth-
ing : he who does not taste thee has a relish for
nothing. His being is vain : his life but a dream.
Set up thyself, O Lord : — set up thyself that we
may behold thee. As wax consumes before the
fire, and as the smoke is driven away, so let thine
enemies vanish out of thy presence. How unhap-
py is that soul, who without the sense of thee, has
no God, no hope, no comfort to support him. But
how happy the man that searches, sighs, and thirsts
after thee. Yet he only is fully happy on whom
thou liflest the light of thy countenance, whose tears
thou hast wiped away, and who in thy loving kind-
ness enjoys the completion of all his desires. How
long, how long, O Lord, shall I wait for that day,
when I shall possess in thy presence, fulness of joy
and pleasures forevermore ? O my God, in this
pleasing hope my soul rejoices and cries out, who is
like unto thee ? My heart melts away, and my
spirit faints within me, when I look up to thee who
art the God of my life, and my portion to all eter-
nity."

RBV. CHRISTOPHER LOVE.

Christopher Love was an eminently faithful

minister of Laurence-jury, London. In the time

of the usurper Cromwell, he was accused

1651. of an attachment to monarchy, and un-
der a false pretext of plotting against
government, sentenced to the block. From his
dying speech to the people, the following is selected.

" Although there is but a little between me and
death, yet this bears up my heart, — there is but
little between me and- heaven. It comforted the
martyr Taylor, when he was going to execution,
that there were but two stiles between him and his
father's house ; — there are but two steps between
me and glory. It is but lying down upon that block,
and I shall ascend a throne. I am this day sailing
to the ocean of Eternity ; — through a rough pas-
sage to an haven of rest ; — through a red sea to the
promised land. As God said to Moses, ' Go up to
Mount Nebo, and die there,' methinks I hear him
say to me, — Go up to Tower-hill, and die there.
Isaac said to himself, that he was old, and knew
not the day of his death ; yet, I am young, and
know the day of my death, the kind of my death,
and the place of my death.

" Like John the Baptist, and Paul the Apostle, I
am to be beheaded. I read also in the Scriptures
that " the saints were beheaded for the word of God,
and for the testimony of Jesus. But herein is the

140 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

disadvantage which I lie under, in the thoughts of
many, who judge, that I suffer not for the word of
God, or for conscience' sake, but for meddling with
state matters, I briefly answer, that this is an old
subterfuge of Satan, to impute the cause of the
sufferings of God's people to machinations against
the state, when in truth they are persecuted for
their conscience and their religion. The rulers of
Israel would have put Jeremiah to death on a civil
account, though it was only the boldness of his
prophecy, against which they were angiy. They
pretended that he must die because he fell away to
the Chaldeans, and would have brought in foreign
forces to invade them. The same thing is laid to
my charge, of which I am as innocent as Jeremiah
was. So Paul, though he did but preach Jesus
Christ, yet his enemies sought to put him to death
as a mover of sedition.

" Upon a civil account, it is pretended, my life is
taken away ; but it is because I pursue my cove-
nant, and will not prostitute my principles and con-
science to the ambition and lust of men. I had
rather die a covenant keeper, than live a covenant
breaker. Beloved, I am this day making a double
exchange ; I am changing a pulpit for a scaffold,
and a scaffold for a throne. And I might add a
third, — T am changing the presence of this great
multitude on Tower Hill, for an innumerable com-
pany of saints and martyrs on the holy hill of Zion :
I am changing this guard of soldiers, for a guard of
angels, who will receive and conduct me to Abra-
ham's bosom. This scaffold is the best pulpit that
1 ever preached in ; God, tlu-ough his grace, made
me in my church pulpit an instrument to bring

UEV. CHRISTOPHER LOVE. 141

others to heaven ; but in this pulpit he will bring me
to heaven. Though my blood be not that of no-
bles, it is Christian blood — innocent blood.

I magnify the riches of God's grace and mercy
towards me, who, bom in Wales, an obscure coun-
try, and of obscure parents, should thus be singled
out for such honorable sufferings. For the first
fourteen years of my life, I never heard a sermon ;
yet in my fifteenth year it pleased God to convert
me. Blessed be God, who not only made me a
Christian, but also a minister, judging me faithful,
and putting me into the ministry, which is my glory.

I had rather be a preacher in a pulpit, than a
prince upon a throne : I had rather be an instrument
to bring souls to heaven, than that all nations should
pay tribute to me.

Formerly, I have been under a spirit of bondage,
and sometimes have had more fear of the drawing
of a tooth, than now of the cutting off my head.
Fear was often upon me when death was not near ;
now death is near me, and my fear hath vanished.
In this I am comforted ; — though men kill me, they
cannot damn me ; though they thrust me out of the
world, they cannot shut me out of heaven. When
I have shed my blood, I expect the full declaration
of the remission of sins through the blood of Jesus
Christ. I am going to my long home, and ye to
your short homes ; but before ye reach yours, I
sh.iU bo at mine."

After this ho prayed earnestly, " that as he was
called to the work he had never done, he might have
(he strength that he never had," and then calrnly
.suffered the stroke of the executioner, on the twenty-
second of August, in the year 16.51.
12

JACOB BICKS.

This interesting and religious child was the bro-
ther of Susanna Bicks, a remarkable instance of

e8U"ly piety, and born at Leyden, HoUemd,
1657. in the year 1657. His parents were very

strict and conscientious in his education,
and God was pleased to sanctify their prayers and
instructions to his thorough conversion. In the
time of the fatal plague, he was seized with the in-
fection four weeks before his sister, and it so affect-
ed his head, that he was very drowsy and lethargic.
In his waking intervals, he was almost constantly
engaged in prayer, and though but a little child, found
it a great comfort in his distress. Once after his pa-
rents had been praying by him, they asked him if he
would again see the physician. He answered,
" No. I will have him no more. The Lord will
help me, for I know he will take me to himself."
" My dear child," said his father, " that grieves my
heart." " Father," said the patient suft'erer, " let
us pray ; and the Lord will be near for my helper."
After prayer he exclaimed — " Come now, dear fa-
ther and mother, and kiss me ; I know that I shall
die. Farewell, my dear parents, — farewell dear
sister, — farewell all. Now shall I go to heaven,
and to God, and to Jesus Christ, and the holy an-

JACOB BICKS. 143

gels. Remember you not what is said by Jeremi-
ah ? Blessed is he who trusteth in the Lord. Now
I trust in him, and he will bless me. ' Little chil-
dren, love not the world : for it passeth away.'
Away then with all the pleasant things of the world !
away with my toys — away with my books ; — for in
heaven I shall know sufficiently of the true wisdom
without them." " God," said his father, " will be
near thee, and uphold thee." " Yes, father," said
the child, " it is written God resisteth the proud, but
giveth grace unto the humble. I shall humble my-
self under his mighty hand, and he will lift me up."
" O my dear child," replied the afflicted father,
" hast thou so strong a faith ?" " Yes," said the
dying one, " God hath given me so strong a faith
upon Jesus Christ, that Uie devil himself shall flee
from me. He that believeth on the Son hath ever-
lasting life, and shall overcome the wicked one.
Now I believe in Jesus Christ my Redeemer, and
he will never leave or forsake me, but will give unto
me eternal life, and let me sing, Holy — holy — holy
is the Lord of Sabaoth."

Then praying earnestly — " Lord be merciful to
me a poor sinner " — he quietly and sweetly breath-
ed out his soul, when he was only seven years old,
in the month of August, 1664.

THE MARQ,UTS OF ARGYL.E.

The celebrated Scotch Marquis of Argyle, to
many popular accomplishments added a zealous

piety ; and being a firm friend to the
1661. Covenanted Reformation, was put to

death for it, as a crime, in the spring of
1661, in the second year of the reign of the Second
Charles. When his sentence of death passed the
parliament, he answered, " I had the honor to set
the crown upon the King's head, and now he has-
tens me to a better crown than his own." One day
intervened between his sentence and execution, and
as he entered the gloomy prison to which he was
remanded, his excellent lady met him covered with
tears, and embracing him, said, " The Lord will re-
quite it." None in the room could refrain from
weeping and lamentation, except the Marquis, who,
perfectly composed, said " Forbear ; forbear ; tru-
ly, I pity them, they know not what they are doing ;
they may shut me in where they please, but they
cannot shut out my God from me. For my part, I
am as content to be here, as in the castle of Edin-
burgh ; as content in the castle, as in the Tower
of London, where I was first put ; and I hope to he
as content upon the scaffold, as in any of them all."
He mentioned that he had been endeavoring to

THE MARQUIS OF AROYLE. 146

imitate the conduct of David, who when Ziklag was
taken and burnt, and his people spake of stoning
him, encouraged himself in the Lord his God. His
short respite from Saturday to Monday, was passed
with the greatest serenity and cheerfulness, and in
the proper exercises of a dying Christian. To some
ministers who were allowed to attend him, he said,
" Shortly you will envy me who have gone before ;
for my skill fails, if you who are ministers will not
either suffer much, or sin much ; for if you agree
with these men in part only, you will suffer, and if
you go not at all with them, you shall but suffer." In
this he alluded to the growing trouble of the times,
and to the religious persecutions opened against the
faithful.

The Marquis was naturally timorous, but he de-
sired those about him to observe, how God had an-
swered his prayers by removing all fear from him ;
and it was not the work of his friends to reconcile
him to his dissolution, so much as to restrain and
qualify his desires after it. The morning of Mon-
day, ihe day that he suffered, while thronged with
papers relative to his estate, his mind was so fixed
upon heavenly things, so supematurally supported
and comforted, that he rapturously exclaimed, " I
thought to have concealed the Lord's goodness, but
it will not do ; I am now ordering my earthly affairs,
and God is sealing my charter to a better inherit-
ance, and was just now saying to me, " Son, be of
good cheer ; thy sins are forgiven thee."

Aflerwards he retired for a time by himself, for
secret devotion, and as he returned, a friend said to
him " What cheer, my Lord?" "Good cheer," he an-
swered, " the Lord hath again confirmed, and said to
12*

146 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

me from heaven, Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are
forgiven thee ;" and gushing out in tears of joy, he
turned to the window, and wept there. Afterwards
he said in a perfect rapture, " I think his kindness
overcomes me ; but God is good to me, and im-
parts not too much of it here, for he knows I could
not bear it. Get my cloak, and let us go." Being
told his hour was not yet come, he kneeled down
and prayed with them all, like a saint — like a mar-
tyr— like a seraph. As he passed on to death, he
said, " I could now die like a Roman, but I choose
rather to die like a Christian."

Meeting a friend, Mr. James Guthrie, also sen-
tenced to death, he embraced and bade him fare-
well. " God is with you," said his friend, " hath
been with you, and will continue to be with you ;
and I, were I not now under sentence of death,
could cheerfully die for your lordship." The Mar-
quis addressed the people, at his place of execution,
expressing his complacency in the cause for which
he suffered, and then his blood flowed on the scaf-
fold of Tower Hill, on Monday, May 27, 1661.

REV. SAMUEL LAWRENCE.

Samuel Lawrence, the only son of William

Lawrence, a respectable man, and very eminent

Christian, was bom at Wem, a small mar-

1661. kettown in Shropshire, in the year 1661.
When scarcely past the age of infancy, he
was sent to school, that he might be out of the way
of danger, but with no expectation of his learning
any thing ; yet while they supposed him too young
to understand, he made himself master of the al-
phabet, and before the year had expired could read
in the Bible with accuracy and propriety. While
he was yet a child he entered upon the Latin lan-
guage, and made such proficiency in that and his
other studies, that as he passed from school to
school his instnictors distinguished and applauded
him. The time usually allotted to sport, he devot-
ed to study, and when his parents, fearful that he
might injure his health, allured him by pecuniary
rewards to join in the pastimes of his companions,
he would return with increased ardor and attach-
ment to his books.

At that early period his virtues and piety began
to disclose themselves, he seemed estranged from
the vanity and waywardness often observable at
that season of life, and such a spirit of devotion

148 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

characterised him that pious people were accustom-
ed to distinguish him as one " sanctified from his
birth." He was attached to the stated exercise of
secret prayer, and would rise very early, that he
might secure the hour most favorable to meditation,
and send forth on the wings of the morning his soul
to meet its Creator. Such a fair and auspicious
dawn, seemed to be the prelude of an illustrious
day.

After finishing early his course of university stud-
ies, he officiated first as assistant in an academy,
and afterwards as domestic chaplain to the pious
Lady Irby. Here his amiable and exemplary con-
duct gained him great esteem and affection ; and
when some of his intimate friends expressed con-
cern lest his youth and extreme diffidence should
embarrass him in the performance of family prayer,
where many persons of rank and learning were
frequently present, he answered nobly, " this does
not aflfect me at all, for I consider myself standing
in a greater presence than theirs." He was obser-
ved to be very frugal in his way of living, that he
might save something at the end of the year, to send
his father, who had suffered great losses by fire.
Filial reverence, and strong affection for his friends,
were among the most striking excellences of his
character.

From his chaplaincy, he was removed to the pas-
toral care of the town of Nantwich, and was soon dis-
tinguished as a systematic, and laborious preacher,
careful in visiting the sick and afflicted, faithful in
catechising and instructing the children of his peo-
ple, and affectionate in the administration of ordi-
n^mc^s. In baptism he received the child from the

RfiV. SAMUEL LAWRENCE. 149

arms of the parent, and after discoursing with him on
the great importance of the deposit, returned it with a
solemn charge to bring it up in the fear of God, and
in the faith of Christ. He accustomed himself to
preach every Saturday at noon, because it was
market day, and generally a great assemblage of
country people convened, whom he hoped a few
serious truths would help to prepare for the duties
of the Sabbath.

When some of his friends requested him to adapt
his labors more to the delicacy of his constitution,
he answered, " the strength that my master gives
me, I delight to use in his work, and do not desire
to live a day longer than I may do him some ser-
vice." At the head of a family his whole conduct
was strikingly conscientious ; his morning and
evening worship was performed with regularity and
fervor ; his public sermons repeated privately and
explained to his household, and his whole aim to
render religion desirable and pleasant to his children
and domestics. For the improvement of some
young men intended for the ministry, he began to
read a course of university learning, especially
Philology and Philosophy, and would accept of no
compensation for his trouble, but in that, as well
as in innumerable instances beside, proved that he
did good for goodness' sake. He was of a peace-
able and gentle temper, bearing and forgiving in-
juries, and his whole deportment was blameless and
conciliating. Though his constitution was feeble
he was never prevented from officiating in the pulpit
by sickness, the whole time he was at Nantwich,
more than 24 years, until the Lord's day before
his death, when he was confined with a distressing

160 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

fever. With composure and many prayers he com-
mitted hinfiself to the divine disposal, and when in
the last agonies of dissolving nature, said to his
weeping friends, " I do not fear, I do not fear,"
and thus died peacefully in the ninth day of
his disease, and 51st year of his age, Thursday,
April 24th, 1712.

MARY SECOND, ^UEEN OP
GREAT BRITAIN.

Mary, the daughter of James Second, was bom
in the year 1662, and at the age of 16, married to

the prince of Orange, aflerwards, Wil-
1662. Ham Third of Great Britain. She was

extremely handsome, " but her person,'*
says her historian, " was the beautiful temple of a
stUl fairer soul." The dignity of her manners in-
spired reverence, while her sweet and affable coun-
tenance rendered that majesty attractive. She ex-
hibited early indications of a happy disposition, by
being kind and gentle before she knew it was her
duty to be so. This amiable temper grew up with
her ; and it is asserted that in the whole course of
her education she never gave her teachers occasion
for reproof. Very early in youth she removed from
her native country to Holland, but though at an age
generally termed giddy, she went under the guid-
ance of so much discretion — was so gentle and
obliging in her deportment — so charitable and com-
passionate— so universally exemplary — that she at-
tracted the esteem and love of all ranks of people
in the United Provinces. Their affection bordered
on rapture, and their veneration, though no more
than her due, seemed to those who knew her not al-

162 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

most excessive. Tliough both her parents professed
the Roman Catholic Religion, she was a Protestant
in principle, and when her father wrote her a letter
in favor of Popery, she replied with such weighty
arguments, with such spirit, firmness, and intelli-
gence, as convinced him that her belief was not to
be shaken, and precluded all further solicitations on
the subject.

In 1688, after James Second, had abdicated the
throne of England, she, in conjunction with her hus-
band, received from both houses of Parliament, an
invitation to return and assume the honors of royal-
ty. To this, her consent was not gained, without
serious deliberation, and painful reluctance. A
crown and sceptre could not dffzzle the strong eye
of her mind ; she remembered that the throne to
which she was invited, had been rendered vacant by
the arbitrary conduct, and blind bigotry of her fa-
ther, and to fill it herself while he survived was an
idea scarcely supportable. Yet while she was con-
tinually reminded that the good of her native coun-
try, and the suffering interests of the Protestant reli-
gion demanded her acceptance, her mind yielded
eventually to what her feelings revolted from ; —
though while she endeavored to support her dignity
with apparent satisfaction, her heart was oppressed
almost to sinking.

A sense of religion and duty did not influence
her in this great and important step alone, — but was
observable in her constant deportment. She lived
a life of extraordinary piety, and was punctually ex-
act in her attention to all the public offices of reli-
gion, and the exercises of secret devotion. Neither
business, journies, or the care of public atFairs were

MARY SECOND. 153

suffered to prevent or shorten the daily duty of se-
cret prayer. This was in no instance neglected, for
she judged that the blessing of the whole day, de-
pended upon it. She religiously observed the Sab-
bath, and attended public worship, three, and often
four times. She was constant in her monthly at-
tendance on the Sacrament, particularly attentive on
her preparations for it, and usually devoted the pre-
ceding day to prayer and fasting. In the public
worship of God, she was a bright example of sol-
emn, unaffected devotion. Her whole attention
was fixed on the sacred services, and not a single
glance wandered to surrounding objects. She re-
membered that she was in the presence of the King
of kings, and such was her gravity and reverence,
that she seemed to spread the spirit of devotion
around her. She discovered no uneasiness at hear-
ing an indifferent preacher ; and when asked how
she could be so attentive to sermons of very inferi-
or merit, she would reply, " that she thought it did
not become her by any part of her behaviour to dis-
courage, or even seem to dislike one who was doing
his best." She endeavored to difiuse a spirit of piety
into all who approached her : she was continually
dispersing good books ; and frequently ordered them
to be laid in places of attendance, that the servants
who were in waiting, might have both entertainment
and instruction.

She was anxious to raise the reputation of tlie clergy,
as a method of advancing religion ; and resolved that
tlieir only recommendation to her particular favor
should be, exemplary lives, faithfulness in labor,
watchfulness in instructing, counselling and cherish-
inji their flock, and a conversation becoming godli-
13

164 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

ness. She greatly wished for an union of all who
believe in the gospel, and judged that the true end
of power, and the best exercise of it, was to do good.
She would often say, " Nothing can render high sta-
tions pleasant, or even supportable, but the power of
doing good, and I wonder the true satisfaction at-
tending goodness does not engage princes to pursue
it more ardently." Her bounties were frequent and
liberal. Those unfortunate Protestants, who fled
from the persecutions of France, and those who es-
caped from the confusions in Ireland, had their exile
mitigated, and their distresses relieved by her com-
passion.

She was particularly attentive to discover and
supply the necessities of persons of real merit, who
had been reduced by misfortune. She obtained a
royal provision for wounded and decayed seamen,
caused them to be comfortably maintained, and
to have the privileges of religious instruction. She
erected schools where they were needed, and pro-
cured a noble endowment for a college in tlie Ame-
rican States, of which she presented a scheme, ac-
curately drawn up, to the King. She even extended
her munificence to the poor in distant lands, and to
foreign churches that were necessitous. The scat-
tered remains of the Protestants who had been
hunted out of their vallies in Piedmont, she embo-
died and preserved. For the remnant of the Bo-
hemian churches she established nurseries of religion
in tliose parts of Germany which had become ex-
hausted by the miseries of war. But even a royal
treasury could not have answered the demands of
her extensive charity, had she been less attentive
aud exact in its distribution. Hence she was care-

MARY SECOND. 155

fill to obtain accurate accounts, both of the necessi-
ties and merits of the candidates for her liberality,
and in dispensing it, displayed as much persever-
ance, judgment and diUgence, as if she had no
cares of a diflerent nature. She was very far from
ostentation in her benevolence ; and whenever it
was alluded to by others, passed from it to other
subjects, as though she could not endure it.

In her were united active zeal, and constant delight
in doing good, with such unatfected humility, and
indiflerence to applause, that the most critical ob-
servers could perceive in her no propensity to vanity,
or glorying in her own deeds. Her charities were
conducted with the greatest possible secrecy, and
whenever it was practicable, her own hand was the
silent almoner. None knew what she gave, or to
whom, except those whom she was compelled to
employ in the communication of her bounty, and
they were under injunctions of secrecy, for she gave
not alms to be applauded of men. It gave her great
pain to hcjir of the licentiousness and impiety that
prevailed in diflerent parts of the nation, and she
exerted herself to suppress the irregularities which
she heard were countenanced in the British fleets
and armies. Next to open impiety, the coldness
of professing Christians, and the disunion of the Pro-
testant churches, afiecled her, and she would often
say with the greatest feeling, " Can such dry bones
live ?»

Of time she was a most faithful steward. She
compared her life to an hour-glass, which wag con-
tinually diminishing, and every sand to be account-
ed for. She viewed indolence as the great enemy
of human nature ; and believed that the mind which

166 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

had no employment, would create itself the worst.
\^^hen, therefore, her eyes were weakened by intense
reading, she resorted to needle-work, which she pur-
sued with as much diligence as if her own labor
was her sole support. W hile thus employed, she
took care to furnish entertainment for those who
had the honor to work with her, by appointing one
to read aloud something pleasing and instructive.
Few of her sex ever gave less time to dress, or
seemed less interested in it.

When the ceremonies of court required her to
appear with more splendor, she constantly read
aloud, that those employed about her person might
receive instruction, and frequently mingled her read-
ing with such remarks, that they considered the
comment better than the original. Never was
mistress both feared and loved more entirely than
she was. She charmed her domestics by wise in-
structions, and won them by her kindness. She
softened the afflictions of the unhappy by the share
she took in them, and guided those who were ig-
norant. It was easy for her to reward, and hard to
punish ; yet when circumstances required, she
showed a firmness which the importunity of others,
and even her own native tenderness, could not
shake. She possessed a sincerity, which convinced
every one that all about her was uniform and con-
sistent.

She never borrowed assistance from art, or cov-
ered her designs with flattering expressions ; and
when she did not intend to promise, took care to ex-
plain her meaning so clearly, that none might in-
dulge ungrounded expectations. And such was the
strictness of her integrity, that during a period of

MA.RY SECOND. 157

many years no explanation was necessary to justify
either a word or action. The frankness of her
mind and conduct was guarded by the strictest dis-
cretion. Those who knew her best, and saw her
most frequently, could never discover her thoughts
or intentions farther than she chose. No change
of countenance drew any thing from her which
she did not mean to impart ; and this reserve was
demanded by her exalted station, and the momen-
tous affairs in which she was daily conversant.
She was remarkably free from pride, vanity and
passion. Her serene countenance was a crystal
which discovered the serenity within. Jler breast
was like some pure stream, unruffled by the lightest
breeze. The modesty and sanctity of her mind
were so undissemblcd, that impurity shrank from
her presence. No natural defects, or faults of cha-
racter, were ever the subjects of her mirth ; she
thought it cruel and barbarous to be merry at the
misfortunes or follies of others. She was pleased
with Archbishop Tillotson's sermon against Evil-
Speaking, and when she thought any were inclined
to detraction, would delicately reprove them by in-
quiring if they had ever read it.

As she uttered no calumnies herself, she was re-
markably exempt from those of others, and on be-
ing reminded of this felicity, meekly replied, '* I
ascribe it wholly to the goodness of God ; for I
doubt not that many fall under severe censures who
deserve them as little." What is good, and what
is great in human nature, were so equally blended,
and shone so brightly in her, that it is difficult to say
tor which she was most remarkable. She was dis-
tinguished for clearness of apprehension, exactness
13*

158 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

of memory, solidity of judgment, and correctness
of expression. She discovered superior genius,
and felicity of imagination, even when conversing
on common subjects.

She read the best authors, in English, Dutch, and
French, three languages which were equally famil-
iar to her. She gave most of her hours to the study
of the Scriptures, and books connected with them,
and thus acquired an extensive knowledge of Divi-
nity. Next to this. Modern History, especially
that of her own country, engaged much of her at-
tention. Of Poetry she was at once a lover and a
judge ; and liked it best when devoted to the best
subjects. She acquainted herself with Natural
History, and Drawing in Perspective ; — was accu-
rate in Geography, and acquired a knowledge of
Mathematics and Philosophy. Her proficiency
was remarkable, considering the great weakness of
her eyes, and the many hours she spent in her
closet. For fashionable amusements she had no
relish ; her favorite entertainments were Gardening
and Architecture, in which she gave considerable
indulgence to her taste. She sometimes feared
these had engrossed too much of her attention, and
would say, " yet as they have employed many
hands which might otherwise have been idle, I hope
I may be forgiven."

Thus amiable as a private character, if we view
her as a queen, she will shine with additional lustre.
Few ever possessed so great a capacity for govern-
ment, with so little inclination to exercise it. Yet
what she reluctantly Bssumed, and cheerfully relin-
quished, she managed with the greatest skill and
propriety. Called often, by the absence of the

MARY SECOND. 169

king, to preside in the administration, she ruled in
a manner worthy of herself; governing the affec-
tions of the people, and erecting her throne in their
hearts. She was gentle in commanding, cau-
tious in promising, generous in rewarding, pa-
tient in her audiences, and indefatigable in her at-
tentions to the complicated concerns of govern-
ment. That nothing might be done in haste, the
day was early begun, that without shortening her
devotions she might attend to every small as well
as great concern, and maintain the customary cere-
monies, and cheerfulness of a court. Where con-
science clearly decided a duty, she was firm and im-
movable ; and while her amiable conduct disarmed
the greater part of her enemies, her wisdom and se-
cresy effectually defeated the designs of the few who
remained inveterate.

When visible danger presented, her firmness of
mind and conduct were truly remarkable. Invasion
was expected from France, in the early part of her
reign, and while her husband was contending in a
distant place, she resolved if they should put their
threats in execution, to take the head of her armies,
and cither save her • people, or perish with them.
The first exercise of royal power must have been
painful indeed. Her father, at the head of a for-
midable army, approached to claim his abdicated
throne ; her husl)and went forth to oppose him, and
she, encumbered with the weight of government,
remained in suspense whether to bemoan the death
of a husband or a father — whether to see the in-
terests of the Protestant religion flourish, or to fly
herself before the scourge of the Papists. To
preserve the life of cither, she said, she would wil-
lingly sacrifice her own.

160 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

During this state of torturing suspense, she
trusted in an arm of Almighty strength, and night
and day her prayers ascended before the Most
High. When she was at length informed of her
husband's victory at the Boyne, and that her father
though defeated was safe, she gave free vent to her
tears, and exclaimed — " My heart has not trembled
at my own danger, so much as at the thought of the
scene acted at the Boyne ; but God has heard my
prayers, and I bless him for it, with as sensibfe a
joy as I ever knew." She was repeatedly in the
administration in very troublesome times, when
wars and invasions called William to the field ; and
she always said that her inquietudes were soothed
and tranquillized by prayer. In her brightest sea-
sons she grew not secure or unmindful of her de-
pendance on God. The pleasures of a court had
little place in her heart, and she maintained an ha-
bitual indifference to them.

In the conjugal relation she was uniformly ex-
emplary. The king possessed her highest afTec-
tion and confidence, and whether present or absent
was borne upon her prayers. A collection of let-
ters written to him while he was engaged in the
wars of Ireland, are still preserved, and exhibit her
in an interesting and amiable light. They amount
to the number of thirty-seven in three months, and
prove that she must have been economical of her
time, to write so much and so frequently, amidst her
studies, her devotions, and the innumerable cares
of a great nation. " She was," says Bishop Bur-
net, " so tender and respectful a wife, that she seem-
ed to go beyond the most perfect 'idea to which in-
vention has been able to rise. The lowest condi-

MARY SECOND. 161

tion of life, or the greatest inequality of fortune,
has not afforded a more complete pattern. Ten-
derness and complacency seemed to strive which
should be the most eminent. She had no higher
satisfaction in tlie greatness that descended upon
her, than that it gave her an occasion of making her
husband a present worthy of himself. IN or had
crowns or thrones any charm so pleasant to her, as
that they raised liim to a greatness which he so
well deserved, and could so well maintain. She
was all zeal and rapture when anything was to be
done that could express either aflection or respect
to him."

During casual indispMition, and even in health,
it was customary for this excellent queen to medi-
tate upon death and prepare for it ; and the tran-
quillity which she had felt at its distsmt view, did
not vanish when it indeed approached. Amid the
sighs and tears of all around her, she was serene
and peaceful. So high did she rise above mortality,
that even her husband, who was more to her than all
the world beside, could not inspire her with any
desire of returning back to life. In that hour when
the most artificial grow sincere, when hypocrisy
drops its mask, and discloses the soul to view, it
appeared how sincere and sublime was her piety.
" I have been instructed," siiid she, " how very
hazardous it is to rely upon a death bed repentance ;
I am not now to begin the great work of preparing
for death, and I praise God I am not afraid of it."
She added that she experienced the joys of a good
conscience, and the power of rehgion giving her
supports, which not even the last agonies could
shake.

162 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

She seemed to have nothing left to be arranged
in her last hours. Her mind was free from anxie-
ties of every kind, and calm as the still, small voice
which seemed to be calling her soul away to the
regions above. An entire resignation to the will
of God, and a willingness to be dissolved, did not
forsake her for a moment. Her gentleness and
tender attentions to all about her wore still eminent.
While she was awake her most delightful exercise
was prayer ; and so sensible a refreshment did she
find in it, that she said it gave her more ease than
any thing which was done for her. Nature sank
rapidly. She received the sacrament with a devo-
tion vphich at once animated and melted all who
were present. That being over slie seemed on the
wing ; and gave herself up so entirely to medita-
tion as scarcely to regard any thing earthly. Hea-
ven blessed her with a dismission so easy, that she
would scarce have known herself to be sick, but
by what was done for her. Thus she put off mor-
ality and in the thirty-second year of her age passed
from an earthly to an incorruptible crown.

The distress of King William during her sick-
ness, astonished those who knew the tirmness of
his mind, and the steadiness of his disposition. He
was frequently m an agony of grief, fainting often,
till there appeared to be no life in him, then recov-
ering and bursting into violent lamentations. The
third day of her illness, he called Bishop Burnet
into his closet. Bursting into tears he cried out,
" There is no hope of the queen : and 1 from the
happiest am going to be the most miserable man
on earth. During the whole course of our mar-
riage I have never seen a single fault in her, and

MARY SECOND. 163

she possesses worth which no one knows fully beside
myself." ^VTien she died, his spirit sunk so low,
tliut there was great reason to fear he was following
her ; and for several weeks he was so little master
of himself as to be incapable of attending to busi-
ness, or seeing company. When Dr. Tennison
went to comfort the mourning monarch, he answer-
ed, " I cannot but grieve ; for I have lost a wife
who for seventeen years was never guilty of an
indiscretion."

From the many elegies which this mournful event
called forth, I select two stanzas from an ode writ-
ten by the poet Prior, and presented to King Wil-
liam : •

For her the wise and great sliall mourn,
When late records her deeds repeat;
Ages to come and men unborn
Stiall bless iter name, and sigh her fate.

Fair Albion shall with faithful trust
Her holy queen's sad relics guard,
Till heaven awakes the preciousdust
And gives the saint her full reward.

JOHN HARVEY.

John Harvev, was the son of a Dutch merchant
resident hi London, bom in the year
1664. 1664, and piously educated. When
very young, he began to speak plain,
and with as much judgment ds children usually do
at five years old ; yet his parents, considering him
too much of an infant to attend school, restrained
him from it, greatly against his inclination. But
before he was three years of age, and while they
supposed him engaged in his little sports near the
house, he discovered a school house in the neigh-
borhood, went without the knowledge of his parents,
and entreated the teacher to accept him as a scholar.
He attended to instruction with so much diligence
and gravity, that he was soon able to read with
propriety, and made an astonishing progress in the
common branches of learning, before most children
are masters of their alphal)et.

This extraordinary child • would frequently ask
very serious questions respecting his soul and the
eternal state, ami was very careliil not to do any-
thing which ho supposed was displeasing lo God.
Perceiving his mother to be much sunk in sorrow at
the death of a beloved brother, he came to her and
said, " Though my uncle is dead, do not the Scrip-

JOHN HARVEY. 165

tures say he must rise ajo^in? — I must die ; and so
must every body : yet it caiuiot be long before Christ
ishidl come to judge the world, and then we shall see
one another again. I pray you, mother, do not
weep so much." The astonished mourner sat
silently reflecting on his words, and found for a
tinje, her deep anguish for her brother changed
into admiration of her child. One day, seeing one
of his relations come into his father's house, rather
intoxicated as he supposed, he went directly to him,
weeping bitterly, and bogged him earnestly not to
spend his time ui such sinful courses, which injured
liis own soul, and oflended his God.

When he was in company with other children, he
•would admonish them of their duty, and warn them
against sinning with tlieir tongues ; but he delighted
greatly in the society of learned and pious men, and
they observed that his conversation was not like
that of a child, so much as of a scholar and a
Christian. He was strict in the observance of the
Sabbath ; frequent and constant in the duty of secret
prayer, and would sometimes continue on his knees
for a whole hour. Though he endeavored to be
entirely concealed in his seasons of devotion, a
friend who noticed the regularity of his retirement,
and was anxious to know what such a child could
make the subject of his petitions, drew near unob-
served, and heard him praying very earnestly, lor
the welfare of the church of God, that the gospel
might spread over the whole world, and that divine
grace might be more abundant in the hearts of
Christians.

He was a very humble, modest child, entirely
above the vanities of dress, contented with plain
14

166 BIOGRAPHV OF PIOUS PERSONS.

or mean diet, and very careful never to eat without
devoutly entreating the blessing of God. He was
compassionate and charitable to all in distress,
wherever he could find them. There was once a
Turk brought providentially into the place where he
lived, and his mind was so exercised in pity for liim,
that he took no rest till he had found a person who
understood his language, and brought them together.
The first thing he requested of his friend, was to
inquire of him if he acknowledged a Deity, to which
he answered that he did. " Ask him," said the
child, " what he thinks of our Lord Jesus Christ."
At this question the Turk was troubled, avoided
discourse, and complained that he was thirsty and
hungry. The compassionate boy immediately ran
to a neighboring house and begged some food, and
then to a brew-house, entreating the master to give
him a cup of beer, " For, sir," said he, " here is a
poor stranger athirst ; we know not where we may
bo cast before we die." •

His family hearing of the circumstances reproved
him ; " I did it," said he, " for a poor stranger, and
I did it, also, that he might think the bettor of
Christians, and of the Christian religion." — This
extraordinary child blended with his piety, an ardent
love of literature, made great progress at the Jjatin
school, and was much beloved by his instructors.
When he was eleven years of age his eldest sister-
was taken ill of an infectious distemper, and while
they were praying for her he would \\co[> and .sob
bitterly ; but when she died ho said, "• The will of the
Lord be done. Blessed be his name. My dear
mother, you must submit yoiuself as Uavid did."
As if ho had a premonition of his own death, he

JOHN HARVEV. 167

spent all his time in religious exercises, in reading
tlie Bible, and " Saints' Everlasting rest," and writ-
ing pious meditations.

Fourteen days after tho death of his sister, he
was attacked with the same disease, and bore his
pains not only with patience, but cheerfulness ; " for
I am assured," said he, " that my sins are pardoned,
and that I shall go to heaven." As he lay in the
agonies of death, he was troubled at the turbulence
of his mother's grief: "know you not," said he,
" that this is the hand of the Almighty ? Humble
yourself before him, and bow in submission to his
will;" and then raising himself up, bowed lowly,
and went to his everlasting rest, at the age of eleven
years and nine months.

DR. HERMAN BOERIIAAl E.

Herman Boerhaave, one of the most illustrious
physicians that the world ever produced, was the
son of a clergyman at Veerhont, a
1668. small village near Leyden, in Holland,
and . born on the 31st of December,
1668. At the age of 14 he was sent to the public
school of Leyden, and such was his astonishing
proficiency, that at the conclusion of the year, when
he was scarcely 15, he became a distinguished m(^n-
ber of the highest class, which after six months stu-
dy is allowed to pass to the University. About the
time of his admission to that seminary, a dark shade
was cast over his prospects, by the death of his fa-
ther, who left a numerous family in reduced circum-
stances. At this early age he found himself sur-
rounded with the perplexities of life, without parents,
protection, advice or fortune. But the care of Di-
vine Providence supported and encouraged him in
his difficulties, and carried him successfully through
the period of his education.

Ilis proficiency in the difiercnt branches of sci-
ence was admired by all ; and when he took his
degree in philosophy, he exhibited a thesis in oppo-
sition to the erroneous systems of Epicurus, 1 lob-
bes, and Spinoza, which greatly raised his roputa-

DR. HERMAN BOERHAAVE. 169

tion for piety and erudition. After laying a solid
foundation in all other parts of learning, he proceed-
ed to the study of divinity under two celebrated pro-
fessors, one of whom gave lectures on Hebrew
antiquities, the other on ecclesiastical history. Above
all he dili;^ently applied himself to the study of the
Scriptures in their original languages, with their in-
terpretation by all the ancient writers, whom he read
in chronological order, beginning with Clemens Ro-
manus. \Vith these pursuits he mingled the study
of nature, and the whole range of the science of
medicine, and in this he found a lucrative and hon-
orable employment, when unfavorable circumstan-
ces prevented him Irom embracing the clerical pro-
fession, to which his inclination led him. Some
time after leaving the university he had to contend
with the evils of poverty, and was obliged to become
a teacher of mathematics to procure the necessa-
ries of life.

But though his labors at that time could hardly
gain a subsistence, yet when his merits as a physi-
cian became known, he found wealth flowing in upon
him like a flood, and at the time of his death left a
fortune of more than £ 200,000, as a monument of
■what honest and well directed industry can perform.
He received the employments of Professor of Che-
mistry, Professor of Botany, and Professor of Medi-
cine in the university of Leyden, and his reputation
began to spread over all Europe. The Royal So-
ciety of London, and the Academy of Sciences at
Paris elected him an honorary member of their res-
pective bodies, and the city of Leyden, through his
instructions, became the school of Europe for med-
icine, botany, and the natural sciences. All the
14*

170 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

European princes commitled pupils to his care, who
found in this skilful professor, an indefatigable
teacher, and a tender friend, encouraging them in
labor, consoling them under aflliction, and relieving
them in their necessities.

When Peter the Great, in 1715, went to Holland
to perfect himself in maritime affairs, he attended
the lectii.ir of Boerhaave, and, as a pupil, received
hislesM'i^^. His reputation spread over Asia, and
the esisteru nations, and so well was his name known
in those distant regions, that a letter written to him
from a mandarine in China, with this inscription,^
" To the illustrious Boerhaave, physician in Eu-
rope," came regularly to him without mistake or de-
lay. Amidst all his honors he retained an humble
estimation of himself, and united to an uncommon
genius, and extraordinary talents, those qualities of
the heart which render them valuable to society.

The activity of his mind sparkled in his eyes, his
appearance was simple and unassuming, and when
deep study and age had changed the color of his
hair he was particularly noticed for that venerable
aspect which prepossesses affection, and confirms
reverence. He was an eloquent orator, and de-
claimed with dignity and grace : he taught very me-
thodically and with great precision, and his auditors
always regretted that his discourses were so soon
finished. He would sometimes give them an infu-
sion of raillery, but it was refined and ingenious ;
and enlivened the subject, without sai-casm or sever-
ity.

He was a declared foe to all excess, yet not
austere, but cheerful and desirous of promoting eve-
ry valuable purpose ef conversation ; communica-

DR. HERMAN BOERHAAVE. 171

live, yet modest ; in contending for the truth, zeal-
ous, though dispassionate ; in friendship, sincere —
constant — aflfectionate ; in every situation and rela-
tion of hfe, virtuous ; and it may be confidently
affirmed, that no man in a private station ever at-
tracted more universal esteem. At the age of 42
he married the only daughter of the burgomaster of
Leyden, and amidst all his domestic and professional
avocations found time to compose a number of liter-
ary works. Surprising accounts have been given
of his sagacity and penetration in the exercise of
the healing art ; yet he was very far from a presump-
tous confidence in his skill, or arrogance at his su-
periority of success.

He was diligent in his profession, condescending
to all, and wholly free from that pride and vanity
which wealth sometimes excites in weak minds. He
used often to remark that " the life of a patient, if
trifled with or neglected, would one day be required
at the hand of the physician." His benevolence
led him to the care of those who were too poor to
compensate him. " These," he would say, " are my
best patients, for God is their paymaster." He was
an eminent example of temperance, of fortitude, of
humility and devotion. His piety, with a religious
sense of his dependence upon God, was the basis
of all his virtues, and the moving principle of his
whole conduct. He was too sensible how deeply
he partook of the weakness of human nature to
ascribe any good thing to himself, or to conceive he
could conquer his passions or vanquish temptation
by his own unassisted power. He attributed every
good thought and laudable action to the Author of
all goodness. So deep was his conviction of the

172 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

depravity of his nature, and so profound his humil-
ity, that when he heard of any criminal condemned
to die, he would say, " who can tell whether this man
is not better than 1 ? or if I am belter it is not to be
ascribed to myself, but to the goodness of God."

The charity and benevolence so conspicuous in
his whole life were derived from a supreme regard
to religion. It was his daily practice all his life, as
soon as he arose in the morning, which was gener-
ally very early, to retire an hour for private prayer
and meditation on parts of the Scripture. When
his friends inquired how it was possible for him to
support the fatigues of his active profession, he
would answer that " it was his morning hour of med-
itation and prayer that gave him spirit and vigor in
the business of the day." He recommended this
practice to others, as the best rule he could give
them ; " for nothing," he would say, " conduces more
to health of body and tranquillity of mind, and I
know nothing which can support me or my fellow
creatures, amidst the various distresses of life, but a
well grounded confidence in the Supreme JJcing,
upon the principles of Christianity, lie made the
excellence of the Christian Religion the frequent
subject of his conversation, and asserted on all
proper occasions the divine origin and efficacy of
the Scriptures. He recommended to his friends a
careful observation of the precept of Moses con-
cerning the love of God and man ; and affirmed
that a strict obedience to the doctruies, and a diligent
imitation of the examples of our blessed Saviour,
were the foundation of all true happiness. He for-
med his ideas of God from what he had revealed of
himself in his word, and paid an absolute subrais-

DR. HERMAN BOERHAAVE. 173

sion to his will, without endeavoring to search out
the reason of his determinations ; and this he con-
sidered as the first and most inviolable duly of u
Christian. His literary, moral, and religious excel-
lence of character, could not exempt him from ene-
mies ; but he never regarded calumny or detraction.
He said " the surest remedy against scandal, was to
live it down by perseverence in well doing, and by
prayer to God to cure the distempered minds of
those who traduce or injure us." A friend who had
often admired his patience under great provocations,
inquired by what means he had so entirely suppres-
sed the impetuous passion of anger ; he answered
with the greatest frankness and sincerity, " I am nat-
urally full of resentment, but by daily prayer and
meditation have at length attained this command
over my passions."

In his last illness, which was extremely lingering,
painful and afflictive, his constancy and firmness
djd not forsake him. He neither intermitted the
necessary care of life, or forgot the serious prepa-
ration for death. Three weeks before his dissolu-
tion, when a most learned and exemplary divine vis-
ited him at his country house, he requested to join
with him in prayer, and afterward entered into deep
and interesting discourse upon the spiritual and im-
material nature of the soul, which he perspicuously
illustrated by describing the effects that the infirmi-
ties of the body had upon his faculties, which they
did not oppress or vanquish, but his soul was al-
ways master of itself, always resigned to the pleas-
ure of its Maker ; — adding, " he who loves God,
ought to think nothing desirable, but what is most
pleasing to the supreme goodness."

174 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

These sentiments were demonstrated by his con-
duct ; as death approached nearer, he was so far
from terror or confusion, that he seemed more cheer-
ful and less sensible of pain. He died on the 25th
September, 1738, in the seventieth year of his luie ;
much honored — beloved and lamented. His funeral
oration was spoken in Latin at the university of Ley-
den before a very numerous audience, and his works
afterwards published in 5 large quarto volumes.
The city of Leyden erected a monument to this
illustrious man, — an uni and pedestal of marble,
bearing many emblematical devices, surmounted
with a medallion of him whom it commemorated,
encircled with his own favorite and expressive mot-
to, " Truth tmarrayed.^^

DR. SAMUEL BENIOBT.

Samuel Beniok was born at a small parish, in
the county of Salop (Eng.) on the 14th of June,

1673. His parents were religious people
1673. of competent estate; he wils their eldest

son, and bore the name of Samuel, because
he was asked of God, and devoted to liis service.
He discovered early indications of genius and piety,
which were cultivated first at the grammar school of
Whicksal, and afterwards at the academy of VVirks-
worth, under the tuition of Mr. S. Ogden, a man of
great learning and virtue. He was there the darling
both of the school and town, for his sweetness of tem-
per, piety, ingenuity, and readiness to oblige all who
came in his way ; and his situation and studies
were so delightful to him, that he continued there
till he reached his eighteenth year. This was a
much longer period than youths of his proticiency
usually spend at the grammar school, but he thus
gained intimate accpiaintancc with the chissics, ren-
dered his future studies more easy and pleasant,
and acquired flie power of speaking and writing
Latin, with great fluency, propriety and beauty.

^Vhen he first entered that school, in early youth,
his parents, after his departure, found a paper, ex-
pressing great thankfulness for the care of liis edu-

176 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

cation, requesting their |)rayers for him, and begging
that they would not indulge too strong an aficction
for him, or in case of liis sickness or death, mourn
for him as those who have no hope ; for he knew that
whether living or dying, it would be well with him.
When he had finished his term at the grammar
school, and was about to return home, his instruc-
tor wept much to part with him, and expressed a
fear that his school would sufier for the loss of his
example.

He was afterwards entered a student at the col-
lege at Glasgow, in Scotland, having two young
gentlemen under his care. Here he applied him-
self with incredible attention, and fre(juently stu-
died sixteen hours in a day, subsisting uj)on a httle
food that was brought him to the study. He was
universally respected at Glasgow, for his great learn-
ing, diligence, and serious deportment ; and when he
took his first degree, the Senate of the university hon-
ored him with the Presidency of all who were lauria-
ted that year ; a dignity seldom conferred upon any
but their own natives. At the expiration of his
term, the regents courted his stay, and promised
him preferment ; but no motive of gain or ambition
could longer detain him from his father's house,
where his coming was waited with the ardent ex-
pectancy of joy, and his presence diffused serenity
and happiness.

However he might have shone as an academi-
cian, nothing could eclipse the excellence of his
character as a sou. lu his looks, words and ac-
tions, he seemed to study to express all'cction and
respect to his |>arents ; and in his conduct to his
brothers and sisters, you might trace IVaternal ten-

DK. SAMUEL BENIGN. 177

derness mingled with the care of a father. He had
calculated to devote more time to his studies, in the
delightful recess of his parental abode, but was
incessantly importuned by a neighboring congre-
gation to supply the place of their deceased pas-
tor. Being then but twenty-three, it was more
consonant to his inclinations, to study for a time,
than to preach, and he said he " trembled to think
of supplying the pulpit of so great a man as Mr.
Philip Henry ;" and when repeated sohcitation
at length vanquishetl his diflidence, he selected for
his text the expostulation of Jereniiidi, " Ah Lord
God, behold I cannot speak, for 1 am a child."

He supported the clerical character with dignity
and propriety, and his performances called forth
admiration, while they imparted instruction. He
had a fluency of thought and expression, and was
lively, fervent and methodical in preaching, prayer,
and the administration of ordinances. In cate-
chising the children every Lord's day, he was exact,
and often successful in impressing their minds
with the truths that he taught tliem. Every part
of tlie work gave him pleasure, and he used to say
that " he preferred the delight he enjoyed in pray-
ing and preaching, to all the entertainments and
gratitications of sense."

His humility led him to estimate slightly his own
performances, and when any one commended his
management of the public exercises of his function,
he would answer, " that it might have been better
executed by himself, and far better by anotlicr per-
son, and that he never let't the pulpit without trem-
bling to think how poorly he had performed his
duty."

15

178 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

In his childhood his genius led him strongly to the
practice of physic, and of his own accord he stored
his memory with medicinal recipes, which he often
showed ingenuity in applying. Afterwards, as op-
portunity ofiered, he paid some attention both to its
theory and practice, that he might be useful to his
poor neighbors ; and his reputation in that line fur-
nished him with more business than he desired. In
the year 1703, being at Glasgow, he was publicly
examined in his professional knowledge by a con-
vocation of the heads of the college, from whom he
received great respect, high testimony of his judg-
ment and accuracy, and an honorary degree of Doc-
tor of Medicuie.

In the practice of the healing art, he was uncom-
monly successful, and some of the most celebrated
physicians of that day, have acknowledged him to
be " one of the most ingenious men, with Avhom
they had ever held professional consultation." lie
soon found, however, that this i)usincss fatigued
both body and mind, and would gladly have discon-
tinued it, but some would make use of no other
physician, and his conscience would not sutler him
to withhold advice from those who were in penury
or distress. To the poor he gave gratuitously, bofli
attendance and medicine ; and thus found many
favorable opportunities of counselling, comforting
and praying with them. He could not rest satisfied
to prescribe for the body, and leave the soul un-
warned of its danger ; and like Luke the evange-
list, he was indeed "a beloved physician.''

His active benevolence induced him also to
distribute Bibles and good books to the |)Oor, with a
request to read them diligently ; and yearly to give

DR. SAMUEL BENION. 179

money to a good man in the neighborhood, to teach
a number of poor children to read, with a strict
charge that none should know who paid him this
annuity. To this kind and charitable disposition,
he united a spirit of moderation toward all who dif-
fered from him in sentiment, and an habitual care to
give pain or offence to no man.

In the year 1703, he married Miss Grace Yates,
whose natural and acquired endowments were con-
genial to his taste, and whose tenderness shed a new
charm over his days.

When his friends observed his great diligence
in study, exemplary life, and happy talent of im-
parting knowledge, they were desirous that their
sons should derive the benefit of such example
and instructions, and he at length complied with
their solicitations. Finding many sources of pleas-
ure from the employment, he consented to enlarge
his n»mber, and soon formed and regulated an acad-
emy of thirty students. It was tlie opinion of ma-
ny that his chief excellency lay in this sphere, for
Nature seemed to have formed him for a tutor of
the highest grade of superiority. He had in his
form, a mixture of grace and dignity, in his counte-
nance, gravity and sweetness, in his deportment,
majesty, tempered with mildness. His first appear-
ance was prepossessing, and while a more intimate
acquaintzmce unfolded properties tp conciliate affec-
tion, it exhibited nothing to destroy respect or reve-
rence. His voice was clear and commanding, and
heightened the effect of whatever he pronounced,
while deep classical knowledge, and a reflecting
mind, qualified him to dictate, or to argue upon eve-
ry necessary subject with accuracy and eloquence.

180 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

He gave lectures to his pupils in their several
classes every day ; and so enlivened the abstruse
parts of science, by his interesting manner of ex-
plaining and applying them, that his students declar-
ed, that if he was sometimes long he wfis never
tedious : He delivered many extempore lectures,
both in Latin and English, on some of the most in-
tricate points of Philosophy, and such was his quick-
ness of thought and felicity of expression, that
they were considered scarcely inferior to his studied
performances. He composed, for the use of his
academy, a comprehensive system of Logic, Meta-
physics, Mathematics, and Ethics ; for his genius
led him to abstract speculations.

These branches of Philosophy he understood in
their depths and refinements, and particularly in
the departmentof Pneumatics, was making great pro-
gress at the time of his death, as if his close appli-
cation to the nature of spirits, was a presage of
of his own near approach to the world of sjnrits.
He recommended to his pupils the study of pure
mathematics, as one highly favorable to internal
order, patience and perseverance, and well calcu-
lated to invigorate the mind, by giving to its re-
searches the certainty of demonstration.

He was master of the theory of Natural Phi-
losophy, and acquainted with its modern dicoveries
and improvements. In comparing opposite schemes
and hypotheses, he divested himself of all partiality,
and taught his pupils to preserve freedom of thought,
that they might search for truth uninfluenced by
prejudice.

In Theology, he formed his opinions from the
Scriptures alone, and not from the doctrines of any

DR. SAMUEL BENION. 181

particular sect. Genuine expositions of that perfect
system, he considered as the best divinity lectures
he could read, and invited his students to examine
his opinions, and receive them only as far as they
were consistent with the word of God. Yet while
he encouraged freedom of thought and investigation,
he took great care to fortify their minds with the
first principles of religion, as the best security
against scepticism and bigotry.

He maintained a very strict and steady government
of his academy, and his sway was founded in rea-
son, and cemented with reverence and affection.
He taught his students to employ their morning
hours well, and to let nothing lead to the neglect of
regular and secret devotion. He excited them to
diligence in their hours of study, and while he al-
lowed them harmless, restrained them from unbe-
coming recreations. If any were remiss in their
studies, or careless in their conversation, he reasoned
with them plainly, but with tenderness. He had an ex-
cellent faculty, while they were discoursing together,
of introducing such subjects as led them to reprove
themselves, by their own remarks ; and they were
so sensible of it, as frequently to reform, without
causing him or themselves, the uneasiness of a
particular reproof.

But when circumstances required a close and
personal admonition, he gave it with an affecting
solemnity, not in anger, but in love, and so as to
convince the delinquent, that he delighted not to
shame him, but as " his beloved son he warned him."
The mildness and firmness of his expostulations,
would draw tears from those not apt to relent, while
the tears that treml)led in his own eye, convinced
15*

182 BIOGRAPHY OK PIOUS PERSONS.

them that he was grieved for their misdemeanors.
These reproofs he followed with solemn prayer ;
and such a blessing attended his pious endeavors,
that although he had a large collection of yoimg
men, of difierent habits, passions and pursuits, yet
an occasion very rarely occurred for a personal
reproof or admonition.

He was a shining example of serious piety, and
strove to excite and promote it in those under his
charge. His discourses on the necessity of holiness
had greater effect upon those to whom they were
addressed, becaiise its own harmonizing influence
was visible in his life and conversation. He was
successful in spiritualizing common occurrences,
and when reading lectures to his scholars on the
works or the wonders of Nature, would lead them
by natural allusions to perceive and to adore the
God of Nature. He appeared superior to the little
vexations of life, as if he lived in a more calm and
undisturbed region, or as if his eye was fixed on
what he delighted to discourse upon, "things unseen
and eternal." Those who had no predilection for
serious subjects, were induced to listen attentively
to one, who addressed them with such aflection,
and was to them as a father. " My dear charge,"
he would address them, " if anything I can say
will be an instrument of advancing your good, I
have my aim ; or if anything I can do may promote
your eternal welfare, how happy shall I think
myself,"

Upon those who were designed for the ministry,
and drawing near to that important work, he strove
to impress the necessity of solemn preparation, and
the danger of unfaithfulness to the souls committed

DR. SAMUEL RENION. 183

lo tlieir charge. He labored to instruct them
thoroughly in the original languages of the Scriptures,
and as they were in the habit of writing from memory
his daily expositions, he accustomed them once a
week to read what they had written, and by compar-
ing the different transcripts, and conversing with
freedom and seriousness, new ideas were often
suggested, and the whole engraved more deeply on
their minds.

Once a week, the divinity class, in llieir turns,
analyzed or expounded a portion of Scripture ; and
that they might exercise themselves in the gift of
prayer, the whole academy retired to the lecture
room after he had perlbrmed tlie evening worship of
the family, and one of their number perfonned, in
his turn, that solemn act of devotion, beside the
more retired service of every chamber, which they
were warned not to neglect. His house was
peculiarly a house of prayer, and all the members
of his family were taught its worth.

While he was thus attentive to their religious ex-
ercises, and solid studies, he omitted none of the
relinements and lighter graces of science. He had
stated times for their exercise in Oratory and Poetry,
and in all tluMr compositions encouraged accuracy
of method, and elegance of language. He was
assiduous in regulating their elocution and pronun-
ciation, and at a particular time every week, habitu-
ated them to read passages from different authors,
and that he might perceive wherein they were de-
fective, and show them by his own example, the
proper tones, emphasis and pauses. His exertions
were generally acknowledged by his pupils, and
gratefully received. " Our tutor," writes one of

184 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

them," understands the passions of the mind so
well, and has so great an art of managing tempers
so as to gain his point, that if he designed it, he
could easily send out flaming bigots to almost any
set of principles. But he is too much a Christian,
a gentleman, and a scholar, to be swallowed up by
the violence of any party. His aim is to make
men of sense and rational Christians ; and if we
fall short of this point, it will not be his fault."

Much of this excellence in the department of
education was imputed to his constant prayers for
divine assistance : for as he acknowledged God in
all his ways, he found him visibly directing his
paths. Though his students, forming part of his
family, had the privilege of joining in his devotions,
morning and evening, still he conceived it necessa-
ry, to begin and end their particular studies every
day with prayer, giving it as a reason " that there
were many petitions to be put up on their account,
in which the rest of the family were not interested."

When a new student entered his academy, he
prayed for him, and committed him and his stu-
dies to an Almighty Teacher : when any left his
care, he affectionately besought the divine bles-
sing for him, and when any were in trouble and
sickness, his tears and entreaties at the throne of
Grace, showed that his heart felt the solicitude of a
father.

Only three of all his great number of pupils, died
while under his care, and he was then seen to hum-
ble himself and lo mourn, as for a first-born. Co-
vered with tears, he uttered, " Let me resign my-
self, and all that is dear to me, into the hand of
God. It is the Lord, let him do what he will.'*

DR. SAMUEL BENION. 186

Beside his public funeral discourses on these mel-
ancholy occasions, he gave more private ones to the
academy, from the pathetic lamentation of Job, " He
came forth like a (lower, and is cut down ;" from
the admonition of the wise man, " Remember the
days of darkness ;" and from the answer of the
mourning mother, in the 2d of Kings, " It is well."
A discourse of his, uttered after their return from
one of these funerals, on the happiness of heaven,
where there is neither parting or weeping, very
deeply affected the minds of his young men.

Soon after these afflictions, a most promising stu-
dent was taken ill of a malignant fever, and brought
to the gate of death. His physician had given him
up, and he seemed to be breathing his last, when
his tutor called together his companions to join in
prayer for him, and was observed to entreat ear-
nestly and repeatedly for his life, as one who could
not be denied, or as if the spirit of strong supplica-
tion rested upon his lips. At their return from the
lecture room, they found an astonishing change in
the dying youth, wh(3 soon after recovered ; and
this striking circumstance was long preserved in
the memories of those who witnessed it.

But while he was thus active for the welfare of
others, and in the midst of life and usefulness, he
was attacked by a nervous fever which in a few
days terminated his career. The evening but one
before his death, he awoke from a kind of slumber,
as he sat in his cliair, and observed that he had been
listening to some extraordinary music, that far ex-
celled all he had ever before heard. Perhaps this
was a prelude to that celestial symphony which he
was soon to join : perhaps this was to prepare

186 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

his ear for the more perfect harmony of heaven.
The violence of disease produced occasional de-
rangement, but the night before his death he slept
so sweetly, that his anxious friends entertained
hopes of his recovery.

On March 4th, 1707, he awoke in an agony, and
in a few moments his soul and body were disunited.
He had lived 34 years, and in that short term com-
pleted more than many who live until past the usual
boundary of man. What a house of mourning
was made on that dismal night, it is difficult to con-
ceive and impossible to describe. Two aged pa-
rents, who viewed him as their stay, and their coun-
sellor, an affectionate wife, who had been but a few
years united to him, two intant sons, who knew not
why they wept, thirty students, who mourned as for
a father, a family, a church and a people, as sheep
without a shepherd. Few have had more tears
shed over them at their death, and none have better
deserved such tears.

ELIZABETH ROWE.

Elizabeth Rowe was born at Ilchester, Somerset
county, England, on the eleventh of
1674. September, 1674. Her father, Mr.
Walter Singer, was much esteemed for
his integrity, benevolence, and simplicity of man-
ners. His life was a constant coiu-se of kindness
to the unfortunate, and uniform piety ; and the
calmness and resignation of his death was a striking
instance of the power of religion, and the exalted
state of the human mind, when animated by the
consciousness of divine favor, and the prospect of
everlasting bliss. His wife was aUo a pattern of
virtue and piety, and they had the happiness of
seeing their two lovely daughters walking in their
steps, mutually and affectionately emulous in the
paths of knowledge and religion. But one of them,
as she entered her twentieth year, was smitten and
blasted, like some fair flower ; and the other, the
subject of these memoirs, passed along the path of
life, lonely and mourning for her companion. Per-
haps this loss deepened the religious impressions
that had remained upon her mind from childhood ;
for, blended with uncommon sprightlinessof temper^
was such a reverential awe of divine Majesty, as
disposed her to the most solemn acts of devotion.

188 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

In the pursuit of knowledge she was very assidu-
ous ; medicine she understood, and practised the
healing art gratuitously among her indigent neigh-
bors, who viewed her as a guardian angel. The
more refined branches of science she easily acquired.
The French and Italian languages were familiar to
her : painting, music, and poetry, she practised from
a child ; but her love for the latter so predomi-
nated, that it was her principal amusement, and at
the age of twenty-two she published a volume of
her effusions. But her uncommon accomplishmejits,
and attainments, were still inferior to her sweetness
of disposition, delicacy of manners, and unaffected
goodness of heart.

In the year 1710, she was united to Mr. Thomas
Rowe, a man of great personal accomplishments,
and literary endowments, and susceptible of that
delicate and sublime attachment which the perfec-
tions of his consort were calculated to iusjjire and
to maintain. But their connul)ia! happiness was
allayed by his declining health, and destroyed by his
premature death, in the fifth year of their marriage,
when he had just entered his 28th year. Aft(;r his
decease, his amiable consort retired to a secluded
estate in Froine, Somersetshire, to enjoy that soli-
tude, and those intellectual pursuits that she loved.
Here she composed her " Friendship in Death,"
with a desire to impress the belief of the soul's
immortality, to make it familiar with the thought of
future existence, and lead it to contract an habitual
persuasion of it, through llie medium of the imagi-
nation and affections. With these were connected
her " Letters, moral and entertaining," whose design
is, by presenting fictitious examples of disinterested

ELIZABETH ROWE. 189

benevolence, and inflexible virtue, to animate the
reader to practise whatever tends to ennoble human
nature, or promote the happiness of mankind ; and
by portraying images of horror, and characters
disgusting in themselves, to deter the young and
unwary from pursuits that embitter present life, and
endanger the happiness of the future.

In 1736, her "History of Joseph," was published,
consisting of ten books ; and so rapidly did she
write, that the two last books were composed and
perfected in three or four days. Mrs. Rowe was
blessed with an excellent constitution, which her
studies, her aflfectious, and a long series of years
had but httle impaired, till some time in the year
1736 she was attacked by sickness, which her friends
feared would prove fatal. On this trying occasion,
she confessed that she did not feel herself entirely
free from alarm ; yet when she had deeply reflected
on the mercy of God, through the mediation of a
Redeemer, she found such confidence, satisfaction,
and transport, that she said with tears of joy, " she
knew not that she had ever felt the like in all her
life," and repeated to her surroimding friends, the
" Dying Christian" of Pope, with exquisite feeling,
and elevated devotion. But she recovered from
this alarming attack, and by her exact temperance
and perfect serenity of mind, her constitution ap-
peared to be reinstated. But she still expressed a
strong desire to enter on a life of immortality ; and
when her friends congratulated her on the health
visible in her countenance, and the prospect of many
years to come, she would reply, " that it was the
same as telling a slave that his fetters would be
16

190 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

lasting, or complimenting him on the strength of
the walls of his dungeon."

Her blameless life, her trust that her peace was
made with God, and her habitual preparation for
death, had so divested him of terror, that he appeared
only as a messenger to conduct her to more perfect
felicity. A short time before the event, when in
perfect health, she communicated to her religious
friends a firm persuasion that her continuance here
would be of short duration, wrote solemn and affec-
tionate letters to be given them after her decease,
and committed to writing a paper of directions, for
her servant, in which she gives orders that her
funeral should be private, and no stone or inscription
mark the place of her grave. On the day of her
death she was in perfect health, conversed cheerfully
in the evening with a friend, and at the usual hour
retired to her chamber. Soon after, an unusual
noise was heard, and her servant hastening to her
apartment, found her prostrate on the floor, speech-
less, and in the agonies of death. Medical aid was
found ineffectual, and on the next morning, Sun-
day, February 28, 1737, she died, in the sixty- third
year of her age.

From a religious book that was found laying
open by her, and a paper on which she had written
some unconnected sentences, it appears that the last
moments of her life were spent in devotion ; and as
it was her stated hour of prayer, she probably passed
from earthly communion with her Maker, to that
presence " where there is iulness of joy, to that right
hand where there are pleasures forevermore." The
manner of her tteath may be also considered as an

ELIZABETH HOWE. 191

answer of prayer, for her written devotions contain
repeated requests that she might not be sufiered to
hnger long in the dark passage, and she often
expressed to her friends a desire of a sudden depar-
ture, and a fear lest the violence of pain, or Ihe
languor of decaying nature, might excite an undue
depression of the mind, and cause her to reflect
dishonor on the name and profession of a Christian.

" Though her death be universally lamented,"
says Mr. Graves, " the manner of it is rather to be
esteemed a part ot her happiness. One moment to
enjoy this life : the next, after a pause we are not
sensible of, to find ourselves beyond the fears of
death, beyond death itself, and in possession of ev-
erlasting life, healtli and pleasure : this moment to
be devoutly addressing ourselves to God, or em-
ployed in delightful meditations on his perfections ;
the next, to stand in his presence surrounded with
scenes of bliss, perfectly new and unspeakably
joyous: — is a way of departing to be desired,
not dreaded by ourselves ; and felicitated, not con-
doled, by surviving friends ; when all things are in
readiness for our removal out of the world, it is a
privilege to be spared the sad ceremony of parting,
and all the pains and struggles of decaying nature.

Mrs. Rowe was agreeable in her person, her
countenance indicated a softness and benevolence
beyond description, and yet commanded that degree
of awe and veneration, that genius and virtue so
naturally inspire. She spoke gracefully ; her voice
was singularly sweet and harmonious, and admira-
bly adapted to convey in all its charms, the elegant
language that flowed from her lips. Her manners
were refined, her deportment marked with ease and

192 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

unaffected politeness. In her apparel she was
merely neat ; the business of her toilet did not in-
terfere with more noble pursuits ; she seemed to
have conquered all desire of complying with the
fashionable follies of the times, the vain pomp and
parade of life ; and she soared above her sex in re-
sisting the foolish force of custom, and the proud
dominations of fashion. In early life she discovered
that inclination for retirement so congenial to the
votaries of the muses, and retained it to the latest
period of her life. Her company was courted by
the great and opulent, and if, prompted by politeness,
she accepted of occasional invitations, she quitted
her solitude with reluctance, and returned to it with
increased pleasure.

But she possessed none of that rigid censorious-
ness, supercilious austerity, or unsocial propensity,
which is apt to adhere to persons of a recluse tem-
per ; she was as remarkable for every social virtue,
as for the strict observance of positive injunctions
of religion. She possessed a mind unruffled by any
of the common incidents of life, and a sweetness of
disposition that could not be affected by adverse oc-
currences, or tlie infirmities of age itself. She was
so placid in her behaviour to her inferiors and domes-
tics, that her servants, who lived with her near 20
years, never observed in her the least indication of
resentment, except at flagrant instances of impiety
and inmiorality. She had a most rooted" aversion to
scandal and calumny, and was scrupulously tender
of the character of her neighbors. Detraction was
so odious in her opinion as not to be justified by
the liveliest sallies of wit, and she never hesitated
to express her detestation of it when it was iutroduc-

ELIZABETH ROWE. 193

ed in her presence ; and surely it is not the most tri-
fling or least uncommon trait in her character, that
she was never known to utter an ill-natured, or even
an indelicate thing.

Of envy her mind was too exalted to be suscep-
tible, but always disposed to do justice to merit,
wherever it was found, and to feel sensible pleasure
when she could find cause for commendation. And
when a sense of duty, and regard to the best inter-
ests of others compelled her to undertake the disa-
greeable task of reproof, she had the power of sof-
tening it into gentle remonstrance and affecting dis-
suasive. She was observed sometimes to com-
mend persons, who eminently practised some one
virtue, before some of her friends who were defi-
cient in that particular excellence, hoping that they
might be struck with the beauty of the example, and
induced to follow it.

Her conversation was singularly pleasing, as she
had a fund of original ideas, which she conveyed in
elegant language, with great fluency of diction, un-
afiected ease, and openness of behaviour. Though
her accomphshments, from early life, had been the
theme of much eulogium, yet no vanity was observ-
able in her ; the whole tenor of her behaviour evin-
ced a modest diffidence, and amiable humility ; be-
ing affable and courteous to persons of every rank
in life. She disliked the course of fashionable
amusements, avoided as much as possible all par-
ties of pleasure, and all formal visits, as far as de-
cency would allow. She disclaimed every kind of
luxury as derogatory to the dignity of human l)eings,
who are endowed with reason, and designed for im-
mortality. Avarice she deemed the most sordid
16*

194 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

ignoble of the human passions, and was so free irom
it as not to know her own estate from others, till
motives of prudence obliged her to inform herself.
She never would suffer her tenants to be threatened
or distressed when they were in her debt ; and
though some took advantage of her goodness, she
would rather suffer wrong than commit injustice,
" I can appeal to thee," she says in a written ad-
dress to her Maker, " how scrupulously I have act-
ed in matters of equity, and how willingly I have
injured myself to right others."

She was strictly conscientious in all the relative
duties of hfe. She loved and revered her father,
was assiduously attentive to all his wishes, and has
been heard to say, " she had rather die than dis-
please him." She so sympathized with him in the
anguish of his last sickness, that it occasioned a
convulsion, from the effects of which she was never
afterwards entirely free. In the conjugal relation
she was equally exemplary. She endeared herself
to Mr. Rowe by the most delicate and engaging
attention, never thwarted his inclinations, though not
always consonant with her own ; and when he
broke out into excesses of anger, endeavored by the
most soothing endearments, to restore him to rea-
son and reflection ; and it was her constant study,
by all the allurements of persuasion, to lead him to
the practice of the more exalted virtues. In his
last long and painful illness she attended him with
indefatigable assiduity ; and performed with strictest
care all the offices suited to that melancholy situa-
tion. After he expired, she could scarcely be per-
suaded to quit his breathless clay, and she honored
his memory by perpetual widowhood.

ELIZABETH ROWS. 196

In domestic life, her behaviour was amiable, con-
descending and aftable ; she treated her servants
witii the utmost kindness, caused every thing nutri-
tious and medicinal to be administered to them in
sickness, and would sit by their bedside to read to
them books of piety and devotion. In her friend-
sliip she was warm, generous and sincere ; happy
in finding merit to commend, and tender and candid
in reproving error. It afforded her peculiar pleas-
ure to render them services ; but her principal en-
deavor was to instil into their minds the love of vir-
tue, and direct their attention to their most important
interests, which could not be essentially promoted
but by a true regard to the doctrine and practice of
Christianity. She thus contributed to accelerate
their progress, by her own precept and example, and
thereby exhibited the most unquestionable test of
real friendship.

Mrs. Rowe exemplified that the most immaculate
character is not free from the shafts of envy and
malice ; she felt the slander of malevolence, which
branded her with the stigma of enthusiasm and hy-
pocrisy ; but this she sustained through the support
of conscious innocence, and so far from entertain-
ing an idea of resentment, considered it as a call
for the exercise of the godlike virtue of forgiveness.

Her charity was extensive beyond bounds : to
want, was a sufficient recommendation for relief, and
she devoted the greatest part of her income to acts
of beneficence, taking pleasure in denying herself
the luxuries and superfluities of life, that she might
supply those who were destitute of its comforts.
The first time she accepted a compensation from
the bookseller for any of her productions, she pre-

196 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

sented the whole to a family in distress ; and once,
not having money enough by her to reheve the exi-
gences of another, she readily sold a piece of plate
for that purpose. Besides the sums that she dispos-
ed of, and the great number of books that she gave
to the poor, she worked with her own hands to re-
lieve the necessitous. She was often seen to shed
tears at the distresses of others ; tears of generous
compassion, not of feminine weakness, for she had
too much Christian fortitude to weep over her own
son-ows. Not satisfied with sending her servants
to inquire into the state of the sick or necessitous,
she visited herself the hovels of poverty and conta-
gion. She educated poor children at her own ex-
pense, furnished them with clothes. Bibles, and oth-
er necessary books, instructed them herself in the
principles of the Christian religion, and expressed
the solicitude of a parent for their future conduct
and welfare. This charitable institution comprised
not only the poor children of Frome, but those of
neighboring villages, and when some astonishment
was expressed that a moderate estate should be en-
abled to perform so much, " I too am surprised,"
said she, " how it should answer all these things,
and yet I never want money." In this she alluded
to the goodness of Divine Providence, which she
ever acknowledged with the greatest degree of pie-
ty, as interposing in her favor and protection. She
retired for private prayer three times a day, and was
most religiously strict in the observance of the
Lord's day, which she passed entirely in acts of pi-
ety and devotion. She constantly attended the ad-
ministration of the Sacrament, for which she had
the highest veneration ; caused parts of the holy

ELIZABETH ROWE. 197

Scriptures to be read at stated times, every day in
her family, and was particularly affected with the
New Testament, and those passages of the pro-
phetical writings, that relate to our blessed Saviour.
A life so blameless — so exemplary — so devotional,
brightened her prospects of a future state, and
smoothed, and softened, and enlightened her jour-
ney to the tomb. The last work of this excellent
person, her " Devout Exercises of the heart," or,
" holy meditations, and addresses to God in the si-
lent recesses of devotion," display a fervor, an ani-
mation of piety, that few attain in this life. They
were sealed up and directed to be delivered to Dr.
Watts after her decease, and by him were published.
The letter that accompanied them contains a spirit
of humble and lively devotion, and we extract from
it only the two following sentences : " When I
am sleeping in the dust, should these soliloquies
kindle a flame of divine love even in the heart of
tlie lowest and most despised Christian, be the glory
given to the great spring of grace and benignity.
Through the blood of thi» Lamb, I hope for an en-
tire victory over the last enemy ; and that before
this comes to you I shall have reached the celestial
heights, and while you are reading these lines, I
shall be adoring before the throne of God."

LADY MARY V^ERE.

Her family was respectable, and she was the
youngest of 15 children. Her mother died three days

after her birth, and her father when she was
1680. only eight years of age. But though she

was thus early left an orphan, the Al-
mighty adopted her into his family, and the experi-
ence she had of his tender care, induced her to
adopt as her motto, and to write in her books, " God
will provide." At the age of 19, she was married
to Mr. William Hobby, and was exemplary in her
duty to him, and the religious education of her two
sons. For this she was amply rewarded ; as she
saw in their happy and trfctnphant deaths, the bles-
sed effects of that piety she had endeavored to im-
plant. The youngest died in his 14th year, the
eldest in his 23d — much admired for their genius,
and greatly beloved for their piety.

Her second husband was Sir Horace Vere, baron
of Tilsbury, a person of honorable descent, of no-
ble achievements in the field, and of unstained pie-
ty. He found in her a faithful friend, and a reli-
gious companion, one who discharged well the
relative duties of life, and preserved on her spirit a
continual awe of the Supreme Rciing. She was
attentive to the appointed ordinances ; careful in her

LADY MARY VERB. 199

preparation for the Sacrament, and so reverent in
her deportuieut in the house of God, that one who
was in the habit of observing critically, remarked,
" Lady Vere, by her solemn deportment would make
one beUeve that there is a God indeed."

She was no less conscientious respecting private
worship ; for she did not leave her devotion behind
her, in the church. Twice a day, the prayers of
the family were offered on bended knees, the word
of God read, and his praise sung, and no business
or company were suffered to delay, or to shorten
this exercise. On the Sabbath, the sermon preach-
ed was repeated to her household, the servants were
called to render an account of what they remem-
bered, and to unite in a hymn of praise ; and after
their dismission they resumed the singing of psalms.
To encourage them in this work of praise, their
kind mistress would often go and bear her part with
them, and every night she prayed with her maid-
servants, thus setting them an example of " all that
was lovely, and of good report." Twice a day she
retired to her closet, and Spent several hours in read-
ing the Scriptures, theological works, and prayer.
Thus she made great progress in the divine life,
though she deeply felt and lamented her own unvvor-
thiness. She not only meditated on death frequently,
but was strongly desirous to depart, and vfaa one of
those few Christians to whom it was necessary to
address the exhortation, " to be content and patient
though they were not taken up to heaven, so soon
as they desired."

Her love to hor Ucdeeraer, and Heavenly Fa-
ther, showed itself in love to Christians, to ministers,
and to the poor, and they all ex|)erienccd the marks

200 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

of her kindness. She was distinguished by her
works of charity ; and these were so numerous and
liberal, that it excited astonishment in others why
her materials were not exhausted. With unlimited
generosity she gave to the poor, food, clothing,
medicine, and accommodations for sickness. But
her charity was silent and unostentatious, and what
she gave was known only to herself. When it
once happened that a poor neighbor died before she
knew of his illness, she inquired with great anxiety
respecting his supplies, and added, " I tell you, I
had rather part with my gown from my back, than
that the poor should want." In the exercises of
her beneficence she was simple and humble, ac-
knowledging that what she gave was not her own
but the Lord's, feeling her dependence on him, and
desiring to be found in his righteousness, for her
own good works in her view were polluted.

Her goodness was uniform and consistent ; and
her life was chargeable with none of those inequali-
ties, which hypocrites are apt to betray. In every
part of it there was a beautiful symmetry, and its
crowning part was humility. She placed a high
value on the exercise of faithful friendship, and re-
quested her friends to speak freely of whatever they
saw amiss in her, observing that " others see more
of us than we do ourselves." Her own imperfec-
tions were ever present to her, while those around
her admired her goodness and piety. To the mean-
est person who approached her, she was afiable and
courteous, and when her domestics had performed
any duty assigned them, would be particular in
thanking them ; for on her tongue was the law of
kindne^is.

LADY MARY VERE. 201

About a year before her death she was seized
with an alarming fainting fit, in which she continued
half an hour without apparent life or motion ; but
as soon as she came to herself, she exclaimed joy-
fully, " I know that my Redeemer liveth ; I know
whom I have believed." Her serene, and bright
day, had at length a happy close. In her last sick-
ness her pains were strong, but the constancy of
her faith was still stronger ; no murmur, or expres-
sion of impatience, dropped from her lips, but she
was particular in justifying God in all his dispensa-
tions, and in her most distressing agonies would
speak gratefully of his mercies. The last words
which she was heard to utter were, " How shall I
do to be thankful 1 — How shall I do to praise my
God 1" She closed this life with the exercise of
that praise which is to be the employment of ano-
ther, and entered into rest, on the Sabbath day, De-
cember 25th, 1761, at the great age of 90 years.
With long life did God satisfy her, and grant her his
salvation.

17

COL. JAMES GARDIXER.

James Gardiner was bom at a small town in
Linlithgowshire (Scotland) on the 10th of Janua-
ry, 1688. ^Miilea child he met with
1688. many bereavements ; his father died,,
during the long campaign in Germany ;
his uncle was slain in the battle at Steinkirk, and
his eldest brother fell at the siege of Namur, on the
day that completed his 16th year. His mother, who-
was a pattern of piety and virtue, endured these af-
flictions with the spirit of a Christian, and labored
to promote the religious and literary education oF
the subject of this sketch. He was placed at the
school of Linlithgow, where he distinguished him-
self by proficiency in study, especially in the lan-
guages. The pious instructions of his mother had
no effect upon his volatile mind, and her tender re-
monstrances were ineffectual to prevent his making
choice of a military life ; for so great was his ardor
in the profession of arms that he fought three duels
before he attained the stature of a man ; and in one
of them, when he was but eight years old, received
a deep wound in the face, the scar of w hich he car-
ried with him to the gruve. He served first as a ca-
det, and at the age of 14 bore an ensign's commis-
sion in a Scotch regiment engaged in the Dutch ser-
vice.

COL. JAMES GARDINER. 203

Tn the memorable battle of Ramillies, diirinj!; the
reifjn of Queen Anne, he performed many feats of
valor, in the capacity of ensign, and while he was
engaged in rallying his men to a desperate attack on
the French, who were posted in the church yard of
Ramillies, and while the most blasphemous oaths
trembled on his tongue, he received a bullet in the
mouth which passed out through his neck, and in a
state of racking anguish lay on the field of battle the
whole night, covered with his own blood, and sur-
rounded by the dying. But neither the tortures of a
wound, inflamed by neglect and improper treatment,
nor the depression of sickness, nor yet the miracle of
his deliverance, impressed his heart or awakened it to
reflection. At his recovery he again retunied to
his vices, and plunged into every course of shame-
less dissipation. Yet in this life of licentiousness
he realized no happiness, and when his gay friends
were once congratulating him on his successes and
felicity, he happened to cast his eye upon a dog that
entered the room, and could not forbear groaning
inwardly, and wishing " Oh, that I were that dog /"

In this course he continued till past the 30th year
of his age, when he was reclaimed by an almost mi-
raculous interposition of divine power. In the
midst of horrible criminality, his mind became so
suddenly and deeply impressed, that he thought he
saw before his eyes, a representation of the crucified
Saviotir, and heard his voice expostulating with him.
The deep amazement of his soul was succeeded by
several days and nights of extreme horror, till at
length, as if in answer to agonizing cries and pray-
ers, the day-spring of salvation dawned from on
high. An entire change was wrought in his views,

204 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

affections, and propensities, and he who was once
Wind through the enmity of sin, saw clearly. This
perceptible alteration of his behaviour, soon exci-
ted the raillery and ridicule of his former compan-
ions, but he sustained it with calmness, and told
them of his unalterable determination to serve the
Lord.

At his return from Paris to London, knowing that
he must encounter the ridicule of those with whom
he had once associated in sin, he requested that he
might meet them on a social party at the house of a
friend. During dinner he was the object of their
sharpest witticisms, to which he made little reply ;
but when the cloth was removed, he entreated their
hearing, while he recounted the cause of his visible
alteration, the thorough change of his principles and
affections, and the peace and serenity which he en-
joyed, to which he was before a stranger. They
listened to this manly and rational defence with the
deepest astonishment, and the master of the house,
rising, said — " Come, let us call another cause. We
thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest
proving that we are so." When his friends perceiv-
ed him still cheerful and conversible, they no longer
cavilled at his opinions, but seemed to wish to share
his serenity, and to look upon him as a superior be-
ing.

None ever knew better how to blend the grace-
ful and amiable discharge of the duties of life, with
the strict devotion of a Christian. He always rose
so early, as to be able to devote two hours to pray-
er, meditation and praise, in which he acquired an
uncommon fervency, and realized great delight. If,
during the bustle of a camp life, he was obliged to

COL. JAMES OAROIN£R. 205

be at the head of his regiment earlier than usual,
he would begin his devotions by one or two o'clock,
that nothing might intrench upon his specified holy
time. When he received a letter from a friend, it
was his practice to retire and pray for him, and when
he had the care of a family, prayer and praise were
continually offered, morning and evening, and he
engaged a clergyman to reside there and officiate in
his absence, and serve as tutor to his children.

His letters are written in the most fervent strain
of piety ; " I am daily offering up my prayers," he
adds in one of them, " for tliis fcinl'iil land of ours,
over which the judgments of Go<i seem to be gath-
ering ; and my strength is sometinnes so exhausted
with those strong cries and tears which I pour out
before my God, that I am haidly able to stand when
I rise from my knees."

The life of this extraordinary man was termina-
ted at the battle of Preston Pans, Sept. 21st, 1745,
where he fell gallantly fighting at the head of his
regiment. He received in the beginning of the ac-
tion a bullet in the breast, and a shot in the thigh,
which he disregarded, and continued animating his
men by his voice and example, until a highlander,
with a scythe, almost severed his right arm from his
body, and dragged him from his horse, when anoth-
er highlander with a Lochaber axe gave him his
mortal wound. Elevating the arm that was left he
gave signal for his men to retreat, and as he lay ex-
piring in blood said feebly to a chief of the opposite
party, " you are fighting for an earthly crown, I go
to receive an heavenly one."
17*

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS.

Jonathan Edwards was born at East Wind-
sor, Connecticut, on the 5th of October,
1703. 1703. He was the only brother of ten
sisters, and the only son of the Rev. Tim-
othy Edwards, inhiister of East Windsor, who
labored as a preacher more than fifty-nine years,
and died at the age of ninety, universally esteemed,
beloved and venerated. This son, in the year
1716, entered a student at Yale College, and soon
became distinguished by proficiency in knowledge
and serious deportment. In the second year of his
attendance, while only thirteen, he read Locke's
Essay on the Human tJnderstanding, with so much
eagerness and fixed attention, that it had a powerful
influence upon his mind, and seemed to awaken
and invigorate those logical and metaphysical pow-
ers, for which he was afterwards so greatly eminent.
Taking that book into his hand, not long before his
death, he said to some select friends, who surround-
ed him, that in his boyhood at college, he had more
satisfaction and pleasure in studying it, than the
most greedy miser in gathering handfuls of gold
and silver from a newly discovered treasure.

In his early years an uncommon genius began to
discover itself ; for Nature had formed him for in-

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 207

tense thought, and deep penetration; and though
he made proficiency in all the arts and sciences
then taught, yet moral philosophy and divinity were
his favorite studies. When only 16, he received
the honors of Yale College, and continued there
two years after, studying and preparing for the work
of the ministry. After passing the pre-requisite
trials, he was licensed as a candidate, and preached
to a society in New York for eight months, to uni-
versal acceptance.

While here he contracted a strong religious
friendship with an aged widow lady where he board-
ed, and with her son. " My heart was knit in af-
fection to them," he writes more than twenty years
afterwards, " and I could not bear the thoughts of
other companions, than those who were disciples of
the blessed Jesus. When I came from New York
I had a most bitter parting with Madam Smith and
her son. My heart seemed to sink within me, at
leaving the family and city where I had enjoyed so
many sweet and pleasant days ; and as the vessel
sailed away, I kept sight of the city as long as I
could ; and when it could no longer be seen, it
would affect me much to look that way with a kind
of melancholy, mixed with sweetness." He was
earnestly solicited to settle at New York, but think-
ing that the society where he preached was too
small to support the expense of a minister, and that
a longer term of study was requisite for his youth,
as he was then but 19, he retired to his father's
house, and devoted the summer to close and dili-
gent study.

Here his diary notes every change of his heart,
as well as of God's dealings with him, and the pious

208 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

resolutions formed for the direction of his conduct,
deserve the notice and remembrfince of every seri-
ous person. They are seventy in number, and a
few only are transcribed, as the limits of this sketch
will not allow the admission of the whole.

" Resolved, Never to lose one moment of time ;
but improve it the most profitable way 1 can. •

" Never to do anything that I should be afraid to
do, if it were the last moment of my life.

"To think much on all occasions of my owa
dying, and of the common circumstances that at-
tend death.

" To be endeavoring to find out fit objects for
charity and liberality.

" Never to do anything out of revenge.

" Never to suffer the least emotions of anger to
irrational beings.

" To live at all times as I think is best in my
devout frames, and when I have the clearest views
of the gospel, and another world.

" Never to speak anything in nan-ation but sim-
ple truth.

" To inquire every night as I am going (o bed,
wherein I have been negligent, what sin I have
committed, and wherein I have denied myself; also
at the end of every week, month and year.

" To maintain the strictest temperance in diet.

" Never to speak anything that is ridiculous, or
matter of laughter, on the liOrd's day.

" Never to allow the least measure of fretting
uneasiness, at my father or mother. Resolved, to
suffer no effects of it, so much as in the least alter-
ation of speech, or motion of the eye : and to be

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 209

especially careful, with respect to any of the family.

" To endeavor to my utmost to deny whatever is
not agreeable to a good and universally sweet, and
benevolent, quiet, peaceable, contented, easy, com-
passionate, generous, humble, meek, modest, sub-
missive, obliging, diligent, industrious, charitable,
even, patient, moderate, forgiving, sincere temper ;
and to examine strictly every week whether I have
done so.

" Resolved, all my life long, with the greatest
openness of which I am capable, to declare my
ways to God, and lay open my soul to him ; all my
sins, temptations, difficulties, sorrows, fears, hopes,
desires, every thing and every circumstance."

This was the beginning of a life, useful, emi-
nent and holy. This was the youth who was after-
wards to be one of the greatest divines, and most
acute logicians, that America ever produced ; of
whom experienced ministers were to say, " that he
was, under heaven, their oracle ;" and whose writ-
ings were to gain him the applause and admiration
of America, Great Britain, Holland and Germany.
He began his life with watchfulness, pious resolu-
tions, and prayers : is this the usual course and
practice of the youth of the present day ? Let
them know that he arrived at eminence by such
methods ; let them follow his steps, and expect the
blessing of Godg^ To-day, if they will hear the
voice, that from Ine life and writings of a departed
saint speaks unto them, let them not harden their
hearts, but turn unto Him, who, if sought early,
will be found, and if called upon humbly and ear-
nestly, will answer.

210 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

At the age of twenty, he was nominated tutor of
Yale College, where he continued two years, and
then accepted an invitation to settle at Northampton,
as colleague pastor with his grandfather Stoddard,
who was then Uving at an advanced age. It is
rather a singular coincidence, that he was twenty-
three years and four months old when ordained at
Northampton, and continued tViere exactly twenty-
three years and four months. The summer after his
settlement he was married to Miss Sarah Pierpont,
daughter of the Rev. James Pierpont, the worthy
and respected minister of New Haven. She was
happily calculated to advance his interest, and in-
crease his enjoyment, and this union was a source
of much felicity to both.

And now the lustre of his piety began to diffuse
itself over a wider sphere, and to vivify many cold
and inattentive hearts. As a preacher, his excellence
was acknowledged even by those who received not
his doctrine. He took great pains in preparing his
sermons, his knowledge of the human heart sug-
gested many affecting truths, and his delivery of
them was easy, methodical, and deeply solemn.
Towards the close of his life, he was little confined
to his notes, and used to advise young preachers, to
commit their sermons to memory, and gradually
discontinue the use of notes, that they might address
with more freedom and better effect the hearts of
their audience.

In his prayers, he had an undissembled and almost
inimitable spirit of devotion, and seemed indeed to
draw nigh to the throne of a father. This service,,
though delightful to him, he did not protract to great
length, observing that this was an error often hurtful

REV. JONATHAN CDWARDS. 211

to public and social prayer, and calculated more to
dampen than to promote true devotion. He cate-
chised the children in public every Sabbath, often
called them with the youth to his own house, that he
might pray and converse religiously with them, and
propose questions to some of them in writing, which
they were to answer after a suitable time, thus ex-
citing them to the knowledge of the scriptures. Ma-
ny fruits of his labors were visible among his people,
and in the years 1734 and 41, were two such general
seasons of awakening, as to excite universal attention
in surrounding places. Of the first, which was the
most remarkable, he published an account entitled,
•*'A faithful Narrative of the surprising work of
God, in the conversion of many hundred souls in
Northampton ;" this was reprinted in Germany,
England and America.

His benevolent disposition discovered itself by
bis uncommon Uberality to the poor and distressed.
His donations were generally made privately, or
with strict commands that none should mention the
name of the giver ; though since his death such a
number of instances have been discovered as con-
stitute him one of the greatest charitable examples
of our age, and doubtless many — many will continue
unknown until the resurrection of the just. Though
he was not in affluent circumstances, and was bur-
dened with the maintenance of a numerous family,
he imparted largely and willingly, but gave not has
alms to be seen or applauded by men.

He did not entangle himself with the affairs of
this life, and had no desire to lay up perishable
riches for himself or his children. He observed the
strictest integrity in all his dealings, and displayed

212 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS.

the most sacred regard to truth, not only in promises,
but in the simplest narration. He was cautious in
the choice of acquaintance, unreserved and faithful
in friendship, and inviolable in preserving secrets
entrusted to him. His conversation was profitable
and mstructive, but he never spent his time in study-
ing the art of trifling. In promiscuous company,
unless some important subject of discourse was
agitated, he spoke little, for he was not ambitious of
being idly entertaining, and thought his chief excel-
lence did not consist in a talent for conversation.
" As far as I am able to judge," he writes, " of what
talents I have, for benefiting my fellow creatures by
words, I think I can write better than I can speak."
In the relative duties of hfe, as a son and brother,

«gt a husband and father, he was faithful and affectionate.

^ He maintained an uniform government of his family,
and so established parental authority, as to obtain
cheerful obedience, reverence and affection. He
was careful to instruct them in the principles of
religion, to restrain them from vain and unreasonable
amusements, and to teach them reverently to obsen'e
the Sabbath. As he believed its exercises began at
sunset the evening before, he was careful that his
household should finish all their secular business,
and be convened at that time, when he examined his
children in their rehgious studies, took particular
care that they understood what they repeated, and
then would sing a psalm, and attend prayers, as an
introductory exercise to the Lord's day.

He was remarkable for rising early, and required
his family to follow his example, and to attend
customary devotions ere they entered upon worldly
business. Before prayers a portion of Scripture

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 213

was read, usually by candle light in the winter, upon
which he questioned his children according to their
age and capacity, explaining, illustrating and enfor-
cing as he saw occasion. He frequently conversed
with his children separately in his study, on their
eternal concerns, giving them warning, exhortation
or direction, as their state seemed to require. In
his study, also, he was accustomed to converse with
his amiable and pious consort, on the affairs of
religion, and constantly prayed with her there, once
a day, beside family and private devotion.

In his manner of life, study, diet and recreation,
he was strictly methodical. He was very temperate
in eating and drinking, that the powers of the mind
might be unburdened and active. His time of risinat ,
was four in the morning ; his daily time of study >*»
thirteen hours ; his recreation, riding on hoiseliack
after dinner, two or three miles, when he \voul<n4e
dismount and walk in some retired grove or l"ore8t,flF
carrying with him a pen, to note the thought» Mat
arose in his mind. He was punctual and frequent
in the exercise of private devotion, and often kept
days of fasting, prayer, and devout meditation. In
youth, he recorded a resolution in his diary, to pray
secretly more than twice a day, and it was known
that he was much on his knees, engaged in that
most solemn service. Constant and devout com-
munion with God in these retired hours, gave to his
countenance and deportment, an habitual serious-
ness, and calm solemnity, as the face of Moses was
observed to shine after his high communion in the
mount.

The exercises of his mind, in the different stages
of conversion, were remarkable. His first was in
18

214 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

childhood, at the time of an awakening in his
father's congregation ; when he was for many months
religiously concerned, careful in serious duties, and
in the habit of praying secretly five times a day.
Yet this he considered not genuine, because its im-
pressions passed away, and were not renewed until
hehada severe fitof sickness at college. This danger
awakened him to self-accusation, terror and repen-
tance, and though he experienced more than most
Christians do, and after his recovery was serious
and active in religion, he viewed that not as the
time of his saving change, but as a step in the grad-
ual progress to a happier time, when to use his own
eloquent description, " there came into his mind
^weet sense of the glorious majesty and grace of
^^^oH, as it were in conjunction ; majesty and meek-
■ ^ ness joined together ; a sweet, and a gentle, and an
'*' holy majesty ; a majestic meekness, an awful
^vveohiess, a high, and a great and holy gentleness."
]^ objections to the sovereignty of God were
conqBered, his affections sublimated, and even a new
^ hue given to the face of Nature. " A. calm, sweet
cast, an appearance of divine glory, an excellency,
wisdom, purity and love, seemed to shine in every
thing, in the sun, moon and stars ; in the clouds
and blue sky ; in the grass, flowers and trees ; in
the water, and in all nature." Even his natural
tastes and antipathies seemed to be transformed, he
had from infancy been much terrified at thunder, and
the sight of a rising cloud would fill him with unspeak-
able dread. But then, and ever afterwards, a thun-
der storm was to him no source of uneasiness ;
" I rejoiced," said he, " at its appearance, fixed
myself so as to view the clouds, to see the light-

/

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 215

nings play, and to hear the majestic and awful
voice of God's thunder, which led me to sweet con-
templations, and as I viewed, it always seemed
natural to me to sing or chant forth my meditations ;
to utter my thoughts in soliloquies, and with a sing-
ing voice." A change so great influenced him to
the close of life ; a religion whose principle was
love seemed to actuate him; his heait was alive
and susceptible to every pious emotion, and in his
line of duty, and sphere of action, few have kept
themselves so pure and unspotted from the world.
His activity, usefulness, and sincere piety, gained
the love and esteem of his people, and in their expres-
sions of attachment they were uncommonly fre-
quent and fervent. Those who visited Northam|>»
ton, would have pronounced it impossible for hinn t(^
have been rejected or opposed by his parishioners j
yet in this we have a striking lesson of the uiuta-
bihty of man, and the afiairs of man. It had been
maintained by his predecessor, that unconverted
persons should be admitted to the ordinance of
the Lord's Supper, though they make no pretensions
to real holiness. Upon this principle, a short cove-
nant was framed, and many admitted to the church
without prerequisite qualifications. Many years
after Mr. Edwards' settlement, he was led candidly
to examine this doctrine, and to preceive its dan-
gerous tendency. But the avowal of his sentiments,
gave great offence ; he was forbidden to preach on
the subject, and what he pubhshed was neglected or
misconstrued. Those who were once ready to
" pluck out their eyes and give to him," clamoured
for his dismissal, rejected all terms of accommoda-
tion, and when the summoned ecclesiastical council

<C-r

216 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

decreed that it was expedient for him to depart if
they persisted in desiring it, zealously voted for his
dismission, by a majority of two hundred and twenty.

A part, who adhered to him during all his calami-
ties, requested that he would still continue their pas-
tor, and offered to support him ; but he determined
not to perpetuate division, among those whom he
had loved as children, and chose rather to suffer
poverty with a large and helpless family around him.

He bade them farewell in a most solemn and
pathetic discourse, and while he continued there,
occasionally suppUed the pulpit, when no other min-
ister could be procured, until great uneasiness was
manifested, and the whole town gathering together,
voted that he should preach to them no more.
This opposition and severe treatment was a great
trial to so tender and susceptible a heart ; he felt
very deeply this change in the conduct of those
who had once manifested so much esteem and
love, for whose welfare he had studied and labored,
for whom he had poured out innumerable fervent
prayers ; and who were dearer to him than any
people under heaven. With feeling he might
adopt the words of the Psalmist, " It was not an
enemy that reproached me, then I could have borne
it ; neither was it he that hated me that did mag-
nify himself against me; but it was thou mine
equal, my guide, and my acquaintance ; we took
sweet counsel together, and walked unto the house
of God in company."

But though he felt the pang of ingratitude keenly,
as a man, he suffered it meekly, as a Christian.
His calm sedateness, and deep humility amidst
violent opposition and injurious treatment; his res-
olution and steady conduct throughout the whole

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 217

of that dark and terrible storm, astonished his ene-
mies, and furnished a new source of admiration to
those who had been in Uie habit of esteeming and
loving this excellent man. The God to whom he
had prayed for strength and direction, evidently
supported him, and provided for his necessities, when
earthly friends had forsaken him.

A short time after this sorrowful and surprising
transaction, he was appointed to succeed the Rev.
Mr. Sergeant, in his mission at Stockbridge, about
sixty miles from Northampton, where he and his
family were comfortably accommodated, and leisure
given him to pursue his beloved studies. Here he
made swifter advances in knowledge, and added
more to his manuscripts than he had ever done in
the same term of time before, and often acknow-
ledged the tender care of God in granting him
opportunity to finish some favorite literary \vorks»
and in providing him such a peaceful retreat, ren-
dered doubly sweet by the preceding tempest.

His great work on the " Freedom of the Will,"
was composed here, which by good judges is con-
sidered one of the greatest efforts of Ae human
mind that appeared in that century. Its judgment,
penetration, and accuracy of thought, ranks the
author among the most exalted geniuses of his age.
His different publications were between twenty and
thirty, beside several works left unfinished at the
time of his death, and ],400 miscellaneous manu-
scripts. When we look at the number of his per-
formances, and consider the delicacy of his health,
and the extent of his professional engagements, we
are led to admire his strict improvement of time,
and diligence in study, and are astonished that even
18*

218 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

with these he could have accomplished so much.

In this retirement, so congenial to his inclinations,
and favorable to his pursuits, he was interrupted by
an invitation from Princeton, New Jersey, to accept
of the government of their college, rendered vacant
by the death of his son-in-law. President Burr. Far
from being elated at any proposal of dignity or
emolument, he signified his desire rather to remain
in a retired situation, and devote himself to study,
than to accept an office for which his great humility
led him to think himself unqualified. But they per-
sisting in their request, he submitted the question to
a counsel of ministers, who after candid examina-
tion, determined it to be his duty to accept of the
offered Presidency. He received their judgment
with a flood of tears, so dear was that little spot of
retirement, so unambitious was he of worldly dig-
nity, and so true is it that, to minds like his, ' before
honoris humility.' In the winter of 1768, he began
his journey, leaving his family to follow in the
spring, and purposing to reside till their arrival with
his daughter, the widow of the late President Burr.

His acceptance of the appointment gave great
satisfaction to the college and inhabitants of Prince-
ton, his friends in Scotland and England expressed
their warmest congratulations ; and he himself said,
that though he had undertaken the office with much
concern and fear, he had received such visible sup-
ports from God, as to incline him to believe that
he was in the way of his duty. He preached in
the college hall every Sabbath, to the edification
of many hearers ; and as President, gave out
questions in divinity to the senior class, to be an-
swered before him, after a suitable time to digest

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 219

and write their thoughts. They found so much
pleasure in the exercise, and so much light and
instruction from his comments, that they spoke of
it with a mixture of astonishment and delight.

When President Edwards arrived at Princeton,
he found the small pox prevailed among the inhabi-
tants ; and by the advice of his physician, and con-
sent of the corporation of college, was inoculated
a few weeks after he came among them. The
disease appeared to terminate favorably ; but a sec-
ondary fever seized him, which raged in defiance of
all medicine, until it put a period to his life, on the
22d of March, 1753, in the 66th year of his age,
just two months after he had parted from his belov-
ed family at Stockbridge, whom God had ordained
should see his face no more. When he perceived
his disease would prove mortal, he said to his
daughter who attended him, " My dear Lucy, it
seems to me to be the will of God, that I should short-
ly leave you, therefore give my kindest love to my
dear wife, and tell her that the uncommon union
that has so long subsisted between us, has been of
such a nature as I trust is spiritual, and therefore
will continue forever, and I hope she will be sup-
ported under so great a trial, and submit cheerfully
to the will of God. And as to my children, you
are now likely to be left fatherless, which I hope
will be an inducement to you all to seek a father
who will never fail you. And as to my funeral, I
would have it without ostentation, like Mr. Burr's,
and any additional sum of money, that might be
expected to be laid out that way, I would have dis-
posed of in charitable uses."

As he breathed his last, some persons who sur-

220 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

rounded his bed were lamenting his death, as a great
judgment on the college, and bearing a dark aspect
on tlie interests of religion in general, when to
their great surprise, he whom they supposed to be
senseless, and lamented as dead, spoke to them
distinctly — " Trust in God, and ye need not fear."
These were his last words ; and surely they are
memorable ; for to those Eu-ound him they appeared
as if uttered from the dead. Thus fell a great and
a good man, of whom to record the truth is his best
praise.

The physician who constantly attended him, has
the following words in a letter to his widowed con-
sort. " Never did any man more clearly evince the
sincerity of his professions, by one continued, calm,
cheerful resignation, and patient submission to the
divine will, through every stage of his disease, than
he. Not so much as one discontented expression,
or the least appearance of murmuring, throughout
the whole. And never did any person expire with
more perfect freedom from pain : not so much as
one distorted hair, but in the most proper sense
of the words, he readily /e/i asleefJ"

DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.

Samuel Johnson, a literary character of the
highest rank, was born at Litchfield, (Eng.) Sep-
tember 7, 1709. His father was a repu-
1709. table bookseller ; his mother a woman of
great piety and understanding, who early
instilled the principles of religion into his mind.
He exhibited strong marks of genius in the free
school at Litchfield, where he received the chief part
of his education, and some of his exercises which
were accidentally preserved, justify the expectations
which determined a father, not opulent, to train him
in the paths of literature. After passing a part of
his youth, at home, in voluntary and desultory
study, he entered as a commoner at Oxford, in his
19th year. Oppressed by pecuniary difficulties, he
was compelled to make a short, and an interrupted
residence at the university, and in the autumn of
1731, gave it up as impracticable, after having
struggled as long as possible with severe indigence,
and the insolvency of his father.

After he quitted the university, he remained at
Litchfield, till the death of his father, devoting his
time to literary improvements. At the age of 26,
he married Elizabeth Porter, a widow of Birming-
ham, and fitted up a house in Eclial, near Litchfield,

222 BIOGKAPIIV OF PIOL^S PERSONS.

where he undertook to keep a school, but was oblig-
ed to resign the employment for want of encourage-
ment. Two years after, he made his first expedi-
tion to London, to try the fortune of his talents in
that great field of exertion. He soon found him-
self reduced to the necessity of writing for a sub-
sistence, and his principal employment for several
years, was that of writing for the editor of the Gen-
tleman's Magazine. He felt keenly the bitterness
of dependance, and the vexations of authorship,
and for a long time supported himself upon the
scanty pittance of four pence half penny a day !
How little is sufficient to subsist the animal part of
man ! — and how often are genius and talents over-
looked and forgotten !

Soon after he published a tragedy, and a poem in
imitation of Juvenal's third satire ; and in 1737, be-
gan an edition of Shakespeare, and published tho
plan of his English Dictionary. To enable him to
complete this last stupendous work, be hired a house,
fitted up a large upper room in the form of a count-
ing house, and employed six amanuenses. On the
20th of March, 1750, he pubhshed the first paper of
his " Rambler," which he continued twice a week,
without interruption, for two years. In this very
excellent work, he proceeded almost without assist-
ance ; only five papers in the whole having been
supplied by other writers. With what devout and
conscientious sentiments he undertook this paper,
is evidenced by the following solemn address to the
Divine Being, which he composed and solemnly of-
fered up at its commencement.

" Almighty God ! the giver of all good things ;
without whose help all labor is ineffectual, and with-

DR. SAMUKL JOHNSON. 223

out whose grace all wisdom is folly ; grant, I be-
seech thee, that in this undertaking, thine Holy
Spirit may not be withheld from me, but that I may
promote thy glory, and the salvation of myself and
others ; grant this, O Lord, for the sake of thy son
Jesus Christ. Amen."

The concluding paragraph of his farewell paper
in the Rambler, appears to have been written under
a persuasion that the Deity had been propitious to
his labor, and that the solemn address which he
had presented before him, on his first engaging in
it, had been heard and accepted. '' The essays
professedly serious, if I have been able to execute
my own intentions, will be found exactly conforma-
ble to the precepts of Christianity, without any ac-
commodation to the licentiousness and levity of the
present age. I therefore look back on this part of
my work with pleasure, which no praise of man
shall diminish or augment. I shall never envy the
honors which wit and learning obtain in any other
cause, if I can be numbered among the writers who
have given ardor to virtue, and confidence to truth.

" Celestial Powers ! that piety regard ;
From you my labors wait their last reward."

Soon after the publication of the Rambler, John-
son's wife died. This event afiected him in the
deepest manner; and the morbid melancholy to
which he was constitutionally subject, acquired addi-
tional force. In his volume of " Prayers and Med-
itations," we find very remarkable evidence that his
strong afiection for her never ceased, even after her
death.

224 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

In May, 1755, he completed and published his
Dictionary, having proceeded in this astonishing
work, with little assistance from the learned, and no
patronage from the great ; and erected for posterity
a durable monument of the profundity of his know-
ledge, and versatility of his genius.

Notwithstanding this great man's various and ex-
cellent publications, he continued in a state of pov-
erty, until the royal bounty, in 1762, raised him
above the reach of want, by a pension of 300/. a
year, given expressly as a reward for the merit and
moral tendency of his writings. Two years after,
he instituted, and ever assisted to support, " The
Literary Club," which was a stated meeting of sev-
eral men of high intellectual powers. His superior
talents made his company highly acceptable, to eve-
ry rank of the witty, the elegant, and the wise. His
peculiarities were lost and forgotten in the admira-
tion of his understanding, while his virtues were re-
garded with veneration, and his opinions copied with
submission. The same energy of mind which was
displayed in his literary productions exhibited itself
in his conversation, which was various, striking and
instructive. His reputation began to extend, and
his fame to be established ; and the universities of
Dublin and Oxford sent him an honorary degree of
Doctor of Laws. At different periods he contin-
ued to pubhsh works of various descriptions, but
agreeing in their ultimate tendency to diffuse know-
ledge, morality and religion. His last production of
consequence was " The Lives of the Poets," of
which he says in a previous memorandum, " written,
I hope, in such a manner as may tend to the promo-
tion of piety."

DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 225

His charity to the poor was constant and exten-
sive, and he performed many acts of the most disin-
terested benevolence. In his dealings, he was
strictly just and conscientious, and trembled at the
thought of defrauding another, even in the most tri-
fling instance. Hearing, near the close of his life,
that his father had died indebted lo a certain book-
seller for the sum of 30 pounds, he diligently
sought out his descendant, and left him in his will
200 pounds, that injustice might not rest upon the
memory of his father. In his attention to veracity,
even in the most trivial assertion, " he was," says an
intimate acquaintance, " without equal or example."
From the slightest to the most solemn narration, he
was strict even to severity, and scorned to embel-
lish a story with the least fictitious circumstance.
" A story," he would say, " should be a specimen of
hfe and manners ; if the surrounding circumstances
are false, it is no longer a representation of reality,
and no more a subject of attention."

His piety was exemplary and edifying ; he was
punctiliously exact to perform every public duty en-
joined by the church, and his spirit of devotion had
an energy that atfected all who ever heard him pray in
private. The coldest and most languid hearers of
the word felt themselves anirijatcd by his manner of
reading the holy scriptures, and to pray by his sick
bed required great strength and firmness of mind,
so vehement were his manners and his tones of voice
so pathetic. He was a warm and able advocate for
the truth of the Christian rehgion, and expressed his
aversion to infidelity at all times without the smallest
reserve ; for no honest man, he would say, can be
19

226 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

a deist, after a fair examination of the proofs of
Christianity.

In his personal appearance, he was neither beau-
tiful or agreeable, yet his countenance when com-
posed was contemplative and awful. It was capa-
ble of great expression, both in respect to intelli-
gence and mildness, particularly when in the glow
of conversation, or under the influence of grateful
feelings ; for his soul was susceptible of gratitude,
and of every kind emotion. His mind was so com-
prehensive, that no language but his own could have
translated its contents ; and so ponderous was that
language, that sentiments less solid, or less lofty,
would have been encumbered, not adorned by it.

This great and excellent man frequently felt the
indispositions and pains annexed to a life of labori-
ous study, and in the summer of 1783, was attack-
ed, during the night, with a paralytic stroke, which
deprived hirn of the powers of speech. Finding
himself unable to articulate a syllable, he wrote thus
to a neighboring confidential friend. — " Dear Sir,
it hath pleased Alnjighty God, this morning to de-
prive me of the power of speech ; and as I do not
know but it might be his further good pleasure to
deprive me soon of my senses, I request you will,
ou the receipt of this note, come to me, and act for
me, as the exigencies of my case may require."

Among the legacies of his last will and testament,
he left the sum of 70 pounds a year, to his faithful
negro man servant, who was often the subject of
his prayers, and of his dying exhortations. From
this severe shock he seemed in a few months al-
most entirely to recover, but in the conclusion of the
yeaf 1784, he was seized with the dropsy in such a

DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 227

manner as to leave his friends little hope of his re-
covery. At times he labored under a mental depres-
sion and agitation, and at intervals possessed his
usual flow of spirits, and composure of soul. He
insisted that his physician should tell him candidly
of his situation, and when he answered that " from
the complication of his disorders, and his advanced
state of life, there could be little hope, except from
miracles," he listened with firmness, thanked him,
and said he would endeavor to compose himself (or
the approaching scene. To each of his three phy-
sicians he gave a copy of his " Lives of the Poets,"
as a testimony of affectionate remembrance, and
then, realizing the fallacy of medicine to one so near
the grave, persisted in taking no more op'stes, " for
I have prayed," said he, " that I may resign my soul
to God unclouded."

For some time before his death he received the
sacrament two or three times in each week, with
great humility and solemnity. An intimate friend
one day entered his room, just after this affecting
ceremony : >' Oh ! my Iriend," exclaimed he, " I
have owed you many obligations through my life,
but they will all be more than amply repaid by your
taking this most important advice ; be a good Chris-
tian." His fears were all calmed and absorbed by the
prevalence of his faith, and his trust in the merits
and propitiation of Jesus Christ ; and to those about
him he often dwelt upon the necessitj of faith in
that great sacrifice. To his affectionate black ser-
vant he often said, " attend, Francis, to the salvation
of your soul, which is the object of greatest impor-
tance ;" and seemed to take pleasure in explaining
to him passages of Scripture, and giving him religious

228 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

instruction. Cherishing thus in his mind the trae
Christian scheme, both rational and consolatory,
uniting justice and mercy in the Divinity, with the
improvement of human nature, while the holy sacra-
ment was celebrated in his apartment, he fervently
uttered this prayer.

" Almighty God, and njost merciful Father, I am
now, as to human eyes it seems, about to comme-
morate for the last time the death of thy son Jesus
Christ, our Saviour and Redeemer. Grant, 0
Lord, that my whole hope and confidence may be in
his merits and thy mercy ; enforce and accept my
imperfect repentance ; make this commemoration
available to the confirmation of my faith, the estab-
lishment of my hope, and the enlargement of my
charity ; and make the death of thy son Jesus
Christ effectual to my redemption. Have mercy
upon me, and pardon the multitude of my offences.
Bless my friends ; have mercy upon all men : sup-
port me by thine Holy Spirit in the days of weak-
ness, and at the hour of death ; and receive me,
after death, to everlasting happiness, for the sake of
Jesus Christ. — Amen."

The night before his death he suffered great
distress, but vyas perfectly composed ; steady in
hope, and resigned to death. At the interval of
every hour, his attendants assisted him to sit up in
his bed, and to move his limbs, which were incredibly
swollen, and in much pain. At these times, he
regularly addressed himself to fer\'ent prayer, and
though sometimes his voice failed him, his senses
continued perfect, and his recollection unbroken.
He said his mind was prepared, and the time to his
dissolution seemed long. At six in the morning ho

DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 229

inquired the hour, and on being informed, said that
all went on regularly, and he fielt he had but a few
hours to Uve. No man could appear more collected,
more devout, or less terrified at that awful moment
which comes to all. A little before his last moment,
the daughter of a particular friend of his, called, and
earnestly entreated permission to see him, that she
might beg him to give her his last blessing. Being
told who stood near him, he turned himself in his
bed, and said " God bless you — my dear."

This was his last action, these were his last words ;
full of benevolence and devotion. His difficulty of
breathing increased till about seven in the evening,
when two friends who were sitting in the room,
observing that the sound of his respiration had
ceased, drew his curtains ; but nothing was there
save a breathless mass of clay, — a countenance
pale and tranquil, and a heart no longer agitated with
mortal suffering. The many who had loved and
revered him in life, hasted to do him honor at his
death ; and seven days after his decease, his re-
mains were deposited in Westminster Abbey, and
covered with a stone bearing this inscription. —

Samuel Johnson, L.L. D.

Obiit 13 die Decembris,

Anno Domini

1784.
^tatis SHOE. 75.

An appropriate monument now marks the spot
where his ashes repose, but he has erected for
himself a more durable monument, in the reverence
of posterity, and has obtained, we trust, a more
noble mansion in the " house not made with hands."
19*

REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

He was the son of Thomas Whitefield, and Eliz-
abeth Edwards, was the youngest of seven children,

and born at Gloucester, (England) De-
1714. cember 16th, 1714. When a child of

two years old, he was deprived of his
father ; but his mother, by her assiduity and tender-
ness, endeavored to supply that early and afflicting
loss. His progress at school was commendable,
particularly between the years of 12 and 15, when
he proceeded rapidly in the Latin Classics ; but the
bent of his genius was towards eloquence, which
was observable during the first dawning of reason.
At 17, he became a devout communicant at the
Lord's table, spent a great part of his time in reli-
gious reading, prayer, fasting, and the appointed or-
dinances, so that his thoughts seemed constantly
exercised respecting the great truths of salvation.
The following year he entered the University of
Oxford, and finding serious and practical piety in a
very low state among the established denominations,
he cultivated an acquaintance with the Methodists,
then a new sect, who seemed to display more of the
spirit and power of religion.

He was treated by (hem with particular kindness,
and received so much benefit from the preaching

REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 231

and friendship of the Rev. Charles Wesley, that
he used to call him his spiritual father. lie now
began to divide his time methodically, and labor to
improve every moment to the best advantage ; — he
visited the sick, and the prisoners, read to the poor,
and received the communion every Sabbath. For
daring to bo thus singularly religious, he incurred
the hatred of his fellow-students, and daily felt the
effects of their unkind behaviour. , At his return
from the university, he preferred the sacred writings
to all other books, and from perusing them with
constant prayer, found unspeakable delight and ad-
vantage. He read three times a week to the poor
people of the town, prayed with the prisoners in the
county gaol every day, and by his conversation and
prayers awakened many minds.

At the age of 21, after much previous meditation
and prayer, he passed through the solemnities of
ordination, and at his first sermon in London his ap-
pearance of extreme youth excited the wonder of
the audience, and many sneered to see a stripling in
a gown, ascend the pulpit. But he had not proceed-
ed far in his discourse, before their smiles gave
place to attention, and their contempt was turned
into reverence. The Spirit of God gave a blessing
to his earliest attempts, and those who mocked, sent
a complaint to his ordaining Bishop, that he " had
dnven fifteen mad with his first sermon." He con-
tinued to spend his time diligently and methodicfilly ;
dividing every day into three parts ; eight for sleep
and meals ; eight for public prayers, catechising and
visiting ; and eight for study and retirement His
general rule was to preach nine times • in a week,
and sometimes four times on the Lord's day, and ad-

232 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

minister the sacrament so early in the morning, that
the streets were seen filled with people, hastening
to church with lanthoms in their hands, and conver-
sing on the things of God.

"UTien he preached, the largest churches were
scarcely able to contain the audience ; some would
hang upon the railing, others climb up to the leads
of the building, while the church would be so heated
with their breath, that the steam was seen to fall
from the pillars like drops of rain. But with his
popularity, opposition and the hatred of envy, sprung
up also, like tares among the wheat. Yet he found
comfort in the midst of discouragement from the
exercise of prayer, and when his strength was ex-
hausted by the labors of the day, would continue in
this duty, even till midnight ; — and once spent a
whole night with a few associates, entreating for the
advancement of the gospel, and praising God.
About this time he received an invitation to go to
America, which agreed with his wishes. But when
in prospect of his departure, he mentioned in a dis-
course, " it might be they would see his face no
more," the whole congregation burst into a violent
flood of tears. Multitudes followed him home
weeping, and the next day he was employed from
seven in the morning till midnight, in advising, en-
couraging and directing inquiring souls.

As the time of his embarkation approached, they
grew still more affectionate and sorrowful ; and
would run and stop him in the alleys with wishful
looks, and eyes streaming with tears. The night
before his departure he spent in prayer, administer-
ed the Sacrament in the morning to his afflicted
friends, and after an almost insupportable parting,

REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 233

left his native country. He found the crew of the
ship in which he sailed, very blasphemous and aban-
doned, and the officers gave him to understand that
they viewed him as an impostor, and should treat
him as such. But so great was his perseverance in
the duties of his office, such his patience, mildness,
and firmness in declaring the truth, and such the di-
vine blessing on his prayers, that many were brought
to consider and reform, and the whole crew were
led to attend every day with great solemnity, to
preaching, exposition and prayer. They now exhib-
ited the regidarity of a church, and he returned ma-
ny thanks for this voyage, which in its beginning
was so unpromising.

At his arrival in Georgia, he found every appear-
ance of a suffering mfant colony. But he was re-
ceived with great kindness and cordiaUty, and after
preaching and instructing them, and projecting the
plan of a future Orphan-house, returned to England.
Here he found opposition assuming a new and for-
midable face. He was ridiculed as a Methodist,
and access denied him to many pulpits. He began
at this time to preach without notes, in the open air,
and his audience sometimes amounted to 20 and
30,000. Having a remarkably strong, audible
voice, he rendered himself perfectly understood by
the most remote parts of the congregation, and was
frequently heard at the distjmce of a mile. He
sometimes encountered insults and danger, but he
counted not his life dear unto him. Though he
might have lived in ease and affluence, still he wan-
dered from place to place, stood and preached at
bowling greens, market places and highways, heard
himself blamed by friends, and reviled by enemies,

234 BIOGftAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

yet inwardly supported, he endured all things joy-
fully. After making frequent collections tor his
Intended orphan-house, he returned to Georgia, and
on the 25th of March, 1740, laid the first stone of
the building, which he called Bethesda, the house
of mercy. He received forty orphans, provided
them with food and raiment, and employed a large
number of workmen, so that his family amounted to
nearly a hundred.

He travelled through a great part of the United
States, and though in a very ill state of health,
preached with great vigor and success. Three
times a day he was lifted on his horse, unable to
mount otherwise, then rode and preached, and when
he came into a house, would lay himself down on
two or three chairs. This course, he acknow-
ledged, would soon take him to his desired rest.

After passing through New England, awakening
many, and causing many to rejoice, he visited his
orphan-house, returned to England, and began his
circuits through Scotland, and Wales, where his
success in converting sinners and quickening saints,
was almost unparalleled. He felt it his incumbent
duty, to travel from kingdom to kingdom, and from
continent to continent, publishing the everlasting
gospel of the grace of God. Hardships, trials,
and dangers awaited him, but he bore them like a
good soldier of Jesus Christ. Once, while preach-
ing in Moorfields, during the holiday seasons, the
leaders of the customary diversions, enraged to find
their usually attendant throngs collected to hear him,
engaged a merry-andrew to mount upon a man's
shoulders, and with a long heavy whip annoy the
speaker. But he continued his sermon notwith-

REV. GEORGE WUITEFIELO. 235

standing blows ; they then sent a recruiting sergeant
with his drum, to pass through the congregation.
" Make way for the king's officer," said the unagi-
tated preacher, and the crowd quietly moved for
him to pass. The owners of the booths, enraged
to desperation, collected a large mob, and came on
in a most threatening manner, with drums, and war-
like instruments to attack the congregation. But
they maintained their ground, and \N hitefield prayed
earnestly for support and deliverance, when lo ! the
ferocious party quarrelled among themselves, threw
down their standard and retired, while the successful
saint continued for three hours to instruct and pray
with an attentive and weeping multitude.

At Plymouth, he was attacked at midnight in
his bed, by a soldier who pretended to come to con-
verse with hirn about religion, but who previously
laid a wager of ten guineas that he dared to murder
him. But God preserved him from the hand of
the murderer and also from the fury of the Roman
Catholics in Ireland, who, following him as he re-
turned from preaching, poured upon him vollies of
stones from all quarters, and made him reel back-
ward and forwards, till he was almost breathless. A
soldier and four preachers, who attended him, fled,
and left him to walk alone through hundreds of enrag-
ed papists. He received many wounds, particularly a
large one near his temples : — " I thought then of Ste-
phen," said he, " and hoped to go, like him, in that
bloody triumph, to the immediate presence of my
Master." Speechless, and covered with blood,
he was at length received into the house of a min-
itster, where his wounds were washed, and his faint-
ing liie restored.

236 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

God had still more work for him to do, and witii
renewed ardor he engaged in his service. He was
frequently brought low with illness ; but nothing
damped his resolution. " Spare not the weak bo-
dy," he writes to a friend, " we are immortal till
our work is done. O ! for power equal to my will !
I would fly from pole to pole, publishing the ever-
lasting gospel of the Son of God." When he was
not engaged in preaching or prayer, or composing
religious works, or visiting the distressed, or coun-
selling the inquiring, his mind was occupied in chari-
table and benevolent plans. Many poor were re-
lieved by his liberality, many widows supported, and
his Georgia Orphan house, whose expenses were
incredible, was converted by his perseverance into
an extensive, beautiful , and permanent institution.
This man was indeed a sign and wonder in the
earth. Who that knows the danger of frequently
and violently straining the lungs, especially in youth,
who that understands the delicacy of their struc-
ture, would suppose it possible, that a man for the
space of more than thirty years, should speak
in the compass of a single week, forty and often
sixty hours to many thousands, and after this labor
instead of taking rest should be ofi'eruig up prayers,
intercessions, and hymns, not only in private, but
at every house where he was invited. Yet he con-
tinued to proclaim with earnestness, " Repent ye,
for the kingdom of heaven is at hand," not only in
every part of England, but in Wales, Scotland,
Ireland, in the Bermudas and America, from Geor-
gia to Boston. In journeyings often, in perils of
robbers, in perils of his own countrymen, in tlie
city, in the wilderness, on the ocean, among ene-

REV. GEOUGB WHITEFIELD. 237

mies, among false brethren, in weariness, pain and
weakness, he approved himself a faithful minister
of Christ. In the autumn of 1769, he embarked
the last time for America, and prepared to crosg
the Atlantic the thirteenth time. His afflicted
friends breakfasted with him in the ship on the mor-
ning of his departure. " Oh," said he, " what mean
you, thus to weep and break my heart ?" At his
arrival he found his orphan-house in a flourishing
situation, and went on still to beautify and improve
it, calculating to connect with it an Academy and
College. The Governor, Council and Assembly
of Georgia, being invited to visit it and attend di-
vine service in its chapel, expressed their admira-
tion and gratitude in the warmest terms to its Bene-
factor.

In the summer of 1770, he left his beloved
Bethesda to journey northward, calculating to return
to it when the cool season commenced ; but God,
who seeth not as man seeth, had decreed that he
should return thither no more. He writes, " Preach-"
•ing is my catholicon, and praying my antidote to
every trial. The Lord only knows how he will be
pleased to dispose of me ; great afflictions I am
sure of having ; and a sudden death, blessed be
God, will not be terrible. I know that my Re-
deemer liveth." As he passed through the middle
and eastern states, he continually preached to large
and attentive congregations, and was received by
them with affection and reverence, as if he had
been an angel of God.

As he journeyed in Massachusetts, in the au-
tumn of 1770, he was greatly importuned to preach
at Exeter, and though considerably indisposed,
20

238 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

addressed to a multitude in the fields there, a dis-
course of two hours in continuance. Before he
went out to preach that day, a friend observing that
he looked very ill. said, " Sir, you are more fit to
go to bed than to preach." " True, Sir," answered
the patient sufferer, and turning aside, clasped his
hands, and raising his eyes to heaven, prayed audi-
bly, " Lord Jesus, I am weary in thy work, but not
of thy work. If I have not yet finished my course,
let me go and speak for thee once more in the fields,
seal thy truth, and come home and die." How
visibly was that request granted ! He went, and
spake in the fields, sealed the truth of his master,
came home and died. From the 12th of the se-
cond of Corinthians, the dying man spake to the
concourse, " Of myself I will not glory, but in my
infirmities." After sermon he rode to Newbury-
port, with his friend, the Rev. Mr. Parsons, supped
and retired early.

His servant found him reading in the Bible, with
Dr. Watts's Psalms lying open beside him. Kneel-
ing down by his bed, he closed the evening with
prayer, and rested quietly till two in the mortiing,
when he awoke panting for breath, and asked that
the window might be raised higher. " I wish,"
said his anxious servant, "you would not preach
so often." — " I had rather wear out, than rust out,"
he answered. Raising himself in the bed, he lifted
up his voice in its last earthly prayer. He prayed
for a blessing upon his preaching the preceding day,
that many souls might be brought to Christ ; ask-
ed for direction in his journey, for a blessing on his
Bethesda College, and his dear orphans, for his
congregations in England, and all his connections

REV. GEORGE WHITEPIELD. 239

there ; and then composed himself to sleep again.
In an hour and a quarter he awoke. " My asthma,
my asthma is coming on ; I wish I had not promis-
ed to preach at Haverhill on Monday. I fear I
shall not be able ; but I shall see what a day will
bring forth."

His servant, in preparing a medicine, awaked
Mr. Parsons, who came in, and inquired how he
felt. " I am almost suffocated," said he, " my
asthma quite chokes me." Drawing his breath
with extreme difficulty and pain, he rose, and stood
at an open window. Turning to his servant, he
said, " I am dying." "01 hope not, sir," said the
atHicted attendant. He ran panting to the other
window, but could find no relief. " I am dying,"
repeated he, and spake no more. They persuaded
him to swallow a little warm wine, to sit down, and
be covered with his cloak, while they sent to hasten
the physician. His eyes were now fixed, and his
under lip drawing in, every time he respired. The
physician as he entered, felt his pulse, and exclaimed,
" He is a dead man." " I do not believe it," said
Mr. Parsons, " you must do something." " I cannot,
he is now near his last breath." This was indeed
80 ; for stretching himself out, with one gasp he
expired. This was exactly at six o'clock, on the
morning of the Sabbath, September 30, 1770.
Unwilling to believe that he must speak to them no
more, they bathed him in heated spirits, laid him in
a warm bed, and continued to rub him with warm
flannel, to raise him upright, and to hold warm spirits
to his nose, for more than an hour, till they were
convinced that no life remained.

240 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

While thus they strove to wake the senseless dust,
High soar'd the spirit with its kind red just,
Explor'd the climes remote from pain and wo,
Nor cast a glance on toils so vain, below.

This was the end of a man, endowed with every-
thing amiable and excellent. He united two char-
acters which are not often seen in imison : the
finished, complete gentleman ; and the humble,
ardent Christian. Nature had given him a graceful
and well proportioned person ; a manly and expres-
sive countenance ; a deportment easy and prepos-
sessing. His eyes were of a dark blue color, and
very sprightly ; his complexion fair ; his person in
youth slender, and inclined to move with grace and
agility, in gesture suitable to his discourse. Some
years before his death, when his health began to
decline, he was observed to grow more corpulent.
He was temperate in eating and drinking, even to a
proverb ; and remarkably neat in his person and
apparel, sometimes observing pleasantly, " that a
minister of Christ should be without spot." Ho
had a voice of incredible strength, yet tempered
with an uncommon degree of sweetiiess, and his
command of it was wonderful. His pronunciation
was manly and graceful, nor was he ever at a loss
for the most natural and strong expression. His
eloquence was devoid of all appearance of affecta-
tion ; he seemed quite unconscious of the talents
he possessed, and would lose himself in regard for
his hearers, and the importance of the subject he
preached. He spoke like one who did not seek
their applause, but who, from a principle of unfeigned

REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 241

love was anxious for their best interests, and de-
sirous to lead them in the right way.

He commanded the attention of multitudes as if
by magic : the feelings of the most thoughtless were
solemnized ; they would hang upon his lips. The
most rude and unimpressible would soften into tears,
and when he enforced the gentle claims of charity,
the avaricious would impart so liberally, that when
they returned to their former tempers, they would be
induced to think that their* money had been drawn
from them by magic. The grand sources of his
eloquence were an exceeding lively imagination,
which made people think (hey saw what he described ;
an action still more lively, if possible, by which,
while every accent of his voice spoke to the ear,
every feature of his face, every motion of his hands
tmd body spoke to the eye ; and a heart of such
acute sensibility, that being susceptible itself of
every tender and generous emotion, it knew the
direct approaches to the hearts of others. He had
also an elevation of mind, which raised him equally
above praise and censure, and added force and
dignity to all he said. He had a soul deeply exer-
cised in the social, pious and religious affections,
and was at the same time most remarkably commu-
nicative and sincere ; by which means he was
peculiarly fitted to awaken like feelings in others,
and to sympathize with every one who had them.

Great was the blessing attendant on his unwearied
exertions, and humble prayers ; and many souls
were given him as crowns of his rejoicing. But
now his warfare is finished ; he has fought the good
fight, and Uke a hero, died on the field of battle.
20*

242 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

After exhibiting in his life all the virtues of the
Christian character, the whole scope of its activity,
the whole ardor of its zeal, he obtained the extent
of his prayers ; a visible blessing upon his labors,
and a sudden dismission to everlasting rest.

REV. SAMUEL BUELL.

Samuel Buell was born at Coventry, in Con-
necticut, Sept. 1, 1716. His father was a wealthy
farmer, and for many years having no

1716. other son, destined him for the pursuits of
agriculture, in which line of life his pros-
pects were flattering. But in the 17th year of his
age, he became a subject of strong conviction and
thorough awakening, and found his views so
changed, as to desire to leave the plenty and wealth
of his expected situation, for the more difficult and
eventful life of a preacher of the gospel. After
seeking for two years the direction of God by
prayer, closely observing the prevailing temper of
his heart, and advising with his friends, he entered
on a course of study, received the honors of Yale
College in 1741, and the same year was licensed,
after passing the usual examinations to general
satisfaction. His preaching was remarkably bles-
sed with full demonstration of the Spirit, many
owned him as their spiritual father, and he was the
first instrument of the great revival at Northampton,
in 1742, in the time of President Edwards.

After laboring successfully as an itinerant preach-
er for the space of five years, he was installed at
East Hampton, on Long Island, in September,

244 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSON?.

1746, and a people who had before been greatly
divided, became in him as remarkably united.
Here he prosecuted his studies with great ardor,
performing his parochial duties with equal zeal,
frequently preaching many times in the week, cate-
chising the children, instructing the youth, adminis-
tering consolation to the distressed, showing mercy
to the poor. His favorite maxim was, " usefulness
in life." His spiritual labors were succeeded by
three great and general revivals, at one of which no
less than 99 persons came forth at once to take
upon them the vows of Christ, beside considerable
numbers at other seasons of awakening. His
church was noted for its sobriety, and his people for
their strong attachment to him.

In the revolutionary contest, when that beautiful
island became for a time the theatre of war, and
when the inhabitants were flying in every direction
before the enemy, he thought it his duty to remain
like a true shepherd with the remnant of his flock.
He successfully exerted his utmost influence in
favor of the distressed ; by his instrumentality many
impossible demands of the enemy were recalled,
and many rigorous ones softened ; and though his
activity often excited the resentment of an imperi-
ous soldiery, and his life was more than once immi-
nently endangered, he shrunk not from his post,
and as he had before been the father, so was he now
the defender of his people. The accumulated care
of the neighboring churches lay also upon him, as
there was but one minister within forty miles, able
to do service, and he was confined to his own pa-
rish by the infirmities of age. What this zealous,
active, and courageous man performed in those

REV. SAMUEL BUEI.L. 245

days of darkness and dismay, it is impossible for
me in these narrow limits to recount. Suftlce it to
say, that his praise was in the mouths of multitudes,
as it had been before in the churches.

Dr. Buell's publications are, fourteen sermons on
peculiarly important subjects and occasions, and a
narrative of tlie work of God among the people of
his charge in 1740. These are expressions of a
strong mind and ardent piety, and have been read
with pleasure and advantage by the lovers of experi-
mental religion. Of his public spirit, and love of
science, Clinton Academy, in East Hampton, is a
monument ; for of this institution he was the father
and patron. In his private character he possessed
a happy disposition, a sprightly genius, and an active
mind. " Whatever his hand found to do he did it
with his might." He was much of the gentleman
as well as the Christian ; in the various relations of
husband, parent, master, friend, and neighbor, he
was aftectionato and happy : his house was the
mansion of hospitality, and no man rejoiced more
than he in receiving and entertaining his friends.
JJut though to his flock he was a pattern of Chris-
tian graces and duties, he excelled in nothing more
than in a spirit of devotion. Of the power and
efficacy of prayer he had the highest opinion, en-
deavored to excite others to its exercise, and abound-
ed in it himself. He considered it as a necessary
part of preparation for the sanctuary, and found the
exercises of the pulpit which were generally his de-
light and his life, burdensome without it. Ho enter-
tained a deep sense of his dependence upon God
for every enjoyment, and was disposed to acknow-
ledge and trust in him under every changing cir-

246 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

cumstance. Thus in his sermon upon the death of
his first wife he expresses himself, " I hope your can-
dor will not deem it ostentation for me to say that
my comforts were received with prayer, praise,
and the joy of trembling ; and have been parted
with, however nature might oppose, with prayer^
submission, and at last, praise."

He was a man whose joys and afflictions were
great and peculiar ; he laid in the^grave the remains
of two wives in whom he was very happy, and of eight
children, which, in connection with four servants,
make the deaths in his family amount to fourteen.
He was accustomed to preach on the occasion of
a death in his household, that his people might reap
benefit from his bereavements. Two of these dis-
courses are published, and show a sweet compo-
sure of mind and resignation of spirit ; one on the
death of a daughter of great accomplishments and
piety ; the other his only son, a religious youth of
sixteen, whose excellent talents were improved by
a classical education, and whom he had viewed as
the supporter of his name, the hope of his family,
and his successor in the ministry.

It was the prayer of this extraordinary man, that
he might not outlive his usefulness, a prayer fervent-
ly offered, and signally answered. The day he m as
eighty years old he rode fourteen miles, preached,
and returned home in the evening ; and firm health,
and soundness of mind, the probable result of the
strictest temperance, continued with him till the last.
He preached the Sabbath but one before his death»
and just as he entered his 83d year, an illness seized
him that was short, severe and mortal. The warmth
and propriety of his exhortations to those around

REV. SAMUEL BUELL. 247

him proved the firmness of his intellect ; while on
his countenance there was an expression of joy like
that of a wanderer who sees his long parted home.
His soul was so attracted to a better world, that
he could not bear that the assiduities of his friends
should strive to detain him in this, and with his eyes
and his aflections turned from the vanities of time
he seemed triumphantly to enter into the joys of his
Lord, on Thursday, July 19, 1798.

WILLIAM COWPER, EStl.

Wii-LiAM CowpER, an excellent moral poet, was
descended from an ancient family, distinguishablo
both for rank and talents ; and was the son of the
Rev. John Cowper, chaplain of George II. He
was born at Great Barkhamstead, in the
1731. year 1731, and at the age of 6 was de-
prived of his excellent mother, whose loss
he deeply deplored. His fihal tenderness and af-
fection for her memory are touchingly delineated in
a little poem occasioned by the sight of her picture,
more than 50 years after her death. He seemed
peculiarly to require the attentions of maternal ten-
derness, not only from the feebleness of his consti-
tution, but from that shrinking timidity of mind,
which was confirmed into the most oppressive diffi-
dence, and occasionally darkened into deplorable
melancholy. He passed through the forms of a
public education, with the same painful susceptibili-
ty of mind, yet his intellectual powers, strong and
ardent, shone with clear splendor through the veil
that encompassed them. His biographer remarks
that, " reserved as he was, to an extraordinary and
painful degree, his heart and mind were yet admira-
bly fitted by nature for all the refined intercourse,
and confidential delights of friendship and of love ;

WILLIAM COWFBR, ESQ. 249

but though formed to possess and comiiiunicate an
extmordinary portion of human felicity, the incidents
of his Hfc, and the susccptiliility of his fecHngs were
such, as to render him at diiFerent times deeply de-
pressed and unhappy."

He had acquired a competent knowledge of the
law, and was appointed reading clerk to the House
of Lords, yet his terror of appearing in that pubUc
character so tortured his timid and delicate mind as
to destroy at once his health and mental tranquillity.
His anxious friends immediately placed him under
the care of Dr. Cotton, a celebrated physician and
poet, whose medical skill and benignity of manners,
were rendered instrumental by the blessing of Heav-
en to the comfort of the reviving invalid. About
this time, distressing apprehensions for his eternal
welfare were added to \a» constitutional sadness, till
by the power of divine grace,' his gloom and terror
gave way to the lustre of comfort and delight. Just
and cheering views of evangelical truth arose in his
mind, while reading the third chapter of Romans,
and from the most distressing anxiety, he found that
the contemplations and exercises of devotion were
unspeakably dear to his reviving spirit. The con-
solation which he experienced after the severest dis-
tress he thus describes in an affecting allegory.

" I was a stricken deer, that left the herd
Long since ; with many an arrow deep infix'd,
My panlinc side was charg'd, when I withdrew
To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.
There was I found by one who had himself
Been hurt by tlie archers. In his side he bore
And in his hands and feet tlie cruel scars.
With gentle force soliciting the darts,
He drew thcni forth, and hcal'd, and bade rac live."
21

250 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

In this pleasing tranquillity of mind, he resolved
to withdraw himself from the bustle and intercourse
of a vexatious world, and enjoy the delights of re-
tirement and of poetry. In the affectionate family
of the Rev. Mr. tin win, he found a beloved asylum,
where he spent almost the whole of his remaining
life, and composed the principal part of his literary
productions. His translations of Homer's Iliad and
Odyssey ; of Milton's Latin and Italian poems ;
his own " Task," fugitive pieces and Letters, furnish
many volumes, and bear witnes.j at once to his indus-
try and genius, his amiable character, and exalted
piety. During his residence at Olney, he was under
the pastoral care of the celebrated Mr. Newton, and
their endeared and intimate friendship, is thus men-
tioned by that remarkable clergyman. " For nearly
twelve years, we were seldom separated for seven
hours at a time, when we were awake and at home.
The first of those six years I passed in daily admir-
ing and endeavoring to imitate him ; during the sec-
ond six, I walked pensively with him in the valley
of the shadow of death." Cowper, in his whole
life and conversation, was indeed a follower of Christ.
In his secret devotions he was regular and fervent ;
in his charities frequent, and hberal, notwithstanding
his limited finances. " He loved the poor," says
the Reverend Mr. Newton, " he often visited them
in their cottages, conversed with them in the most
condescending manner, sympathised with them ;
counselled and comforted them in their distresses ;
and those who were seriously disposed, were often
cheered and animated by his prayers."

Over the last years of his hfe was drawn a cloud
of mental depression. It was the effect of physi-

WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 261

cal disorder, and a broken constitution, and gradual-
ly undermined his strong intellectual powers. But
his sorro\Vs were mercifully terminated by a most
mild and tranquil dissolution, for he passed through
the awful passage of death so gently, that although
five persons were anxiously observing him, not one
perceived him to expire : but he had ceased to
breathe, about five minutes before 5 in the after-
noon, April 25, 1800.

DR. .JA31ES BKATTIE.

James Beattie was born October 25, 1735, at
Lawrencekirk, an obscure hamlet, in the county of
Kincardine, in Scotland. His father stip-
1735. ported his family, principally by the em-
ployment of agriculture, and resided on
the same spot which his ancestors had cultivated
for many generations. Our poet was the youngest
of six children, and if from his family he derived, in
the eyes of the world, no additional lustre, he at
least incun-ed no disgrace, for they were examples
of honesty and integrity, and distinguished in their
neighborhood as the possessors of superior under-
standing. Ilis mother, whose maiden name was
Jane Watson, was thought a woman of uncommon
abilities, and after the death of her husband, con-
tinued his business, and educated her youngest son
at the parish school of Lawrencekirk.

At the age of 14, he commenced his academical
course, at Marischal College, Aberdeen, and be-
came a candidate for one of the bursaries provided
for the students of slender finances. No humilia-
ting idea was annexed to the appellation of Rursar,
at Aberdeen, which signifies only the receiver of an
annual stipend, given as the reward of diligence in
learning, and superior merit. On the first year of

DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 253

his attendance he gained the premium from his
whole class, and used often to acknowledge with
gratitude, that here, by the encouragement of Dr.
Blackwell, the principal of the University, he was
first led to believe himself possessed of any genius.
He finished his course of study, in four years, and
at the age of 18 was appointed parochial school-
master of Fourdon, a small hamlet at the foot of the
Grampian Mountains. Here in the bosom of soli-
tude, estranged from literary society, and in a great
measure from books', his amusements were the con-
templation of the sublime scenery which his resi-
dence afforded, and the cultivation of those poetical
powers, which were afterwards to charm all who
could estimate the delineated beauties of nature, or
the fine combinations of harmori)(.

But in the fifth year of his seclusion, he was call-
ed to the more lucrative office of usher in a gram-
mar school at Aberdeen, and in a short time was
presented with the chair and professorship of Moral
Philosophy, in the University where he was edu-
cated ; an office far exceeding his most sanguine
hopes, but not transcending his talents or quedifica-
tions.

At the age of 24 he was installed in his new dig-
nity, and found himself suddenly raised to a station
of much respectability, to the cherished intimacy of
men of the first moral and literary character, and to
a sphere from whence knowledge of the most im-
portant nature might be widely disseminated.

His first care was to prepare a course of lectures

on the sciences of Moral Philosophy and Logic,

which afterwards, condensed and perfected, were

given to the world under the title of " Elements of

21*

254 BIOGRAPHV OF PIOUS PERSONS.

Science." His duty was to teach in his class three
hours of every week day, during the term, at 8, at
11, and at 3. He began his prelections with the
" Offices of Cicero," of which every student read
and translated a part at their morning meeting ; and
at the next hour he commented upon the part under
review, compared it with the other systems of hea-
then philosophy, examined them on the substance
of what they had heard, and at the end of this intro-
ductory course, dictated an abstract of the whole,
which they committed to writing.

His next course was Natural Theology, Specula-
tive and Practical Ethics, Economics, Jurispru-
dence, Politics, Rhetoric and Logic. Of each of
these branches, he dictated in tlie morning an ab-
stract, on which, a§ on a text-book, he commented
at the two succeeding lectures of the day, in the
most clear, lively, and engaging manner ; examin-
ing his pupils, as he proceeded, on the attention
they had paid, and the benefit they had derived.
He read also the Greek and Latin classics, and re-
quired them to translate as literally as the genius of
the English language would permit. His indefiitt-
gable diligence, and exemplary carriage, excited not
only the affection and reverence of his own class,
but the whole body of students at the university,
looked up to him with esteem and veneration.
The profound piety of the public prayers, with which
he began the business of each day, arrested the at-
tention of the youngest and most thoughtless ; the
excellence of his moral character, his gravity,
blended with cheerfulness, his strictness, joined with
gentleness, his favor to the virtuous and diligent,
and even the mildness of his reproofs, to those who

DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 26ft

were less attentive, rendered him the object of re-
spect and veneration.

Never was more exact discipline preserved than
in his class, and never by more gentle means. His
sway was absolute, but it was founded in reason
and affection. He never employed a harsh epithet
in instances of his pupils' misconduct, and when
instead of a rebuke which they were conscious of
deserving, they received merely a mild reproof, it
was conveyed in such a manner as to throw not
only the offender, but sometimes the whole class,
into tears.

To gain his favor was the highest ambition of ev-
ery student ; and his gentlest word of disapproba-
tion was a punishment which no exertion was too
great to avoid. His great object was, not merely
to make his pupils philosophers, but to render them
good men, pious Christians, attached to their gov-
ernment, pure in morals, happy in the consciousness
of a right conduct, and friends to all mankind. " As
far as the principles of those committed to my care
depend upon me," says one of his confidential let-
ters, " I hold myself accountable to my own con-
science and the public." Those who had the bene-
fit of his instructions are never weary of expatiating
on his unwearied attention, and continued course of
examination and repetition, that he might imprint up-
on their minds the pure precepts of philosophy, and
sublime truths of religion. Nor did his care for
them cease with their tenn of study ; it was his pe-
culiar deUght to assist in their future establishment,
which he had of\cn in his power by recommending
them as schoolmasters, or private teachers, and in
their future welfare he took the interest of a father,

256 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

and counselled and instructed them by his corres-
pondence.

In perusing the voluminous collection of letters
which he received from them, it is extremely pleas-
ing to find so great a number Irom young men in
different parts of the world, particularly America,
and the West Indies, all of them expressing their
gratitude for the benefit of his care and instructions,
and some of them tor the advantageous situations
they had obtained through his instrumentality. Such
was the method of Beattie's tuition, and a diary of
his, in the keeping of his friends, records what was
done in his class, every day, for more than thirty
years, and displays his diligence and solicitude in a
stronger light than any studied eulogium.

To his own private htudics he gave also a propor-
tion of lime, and diligent attention. From childhood
he had borne among his schoolfellows, the appella-
tion of " the Poet," but his first publication of con-
sequence was a small volume of occasional poems,
in the year 1760. This, without patronage, issued
from the London press, where the author Mas un-
known, but its intrinsic merit gained the applause of
the best judges, and conferred upon him the title of
original genius.

On the 28th of June, 1767, he was manied to
Miss Mary Dun, only daughter of the Rector of
the Grammar School at Aberdeen, to whom he was
attracted by sympathy of taste, and agreeable ac-
complishments. Three years after, appeared his
*' Essay on the Nature and Immutability of Truth,"
in opposition to the infidel writers of the day. It
was particularly directed at Hume, who then wrs
in the zenith of his popularity, opulence, and litera-
21*

nn. JAMES BEATTIE. 257

ry reptitation ; but who, havin}^ imbibed the princi-
ples of a cold-hearted, and gloomy philosophy,
whose direct tendency was to distract the mind with
doubts on subjects the most serious and important,
strove to undermine the best interests, and dissolve
the strongest bands of society.

In the defence of truth, Beattie arose with the
energy of one who feels in earnest, and with the
wannth of a Christian. In a letter to a friend he
says, " being honored with the care of a part of the
British youth, and considering it as my indispensa-
ble duty, from which I trust I shall never deviate, to
guard dieir minds against impiety and error, I have
endeavored to form a right estimate of Mr. Hume's
philosophy, not only of his peculiar tenets, but also
of their connection and consequence. But a scheme
like this cannot be popular, far less lucrative. It
will raj^e me enemies, and expose me to the most
rigid criticism, but I trust in Providence, and in the
goodness of my cause, that my attempts in behalf
of truth shall not be altogether ineffectual, and that
my labors shall be attended with some utility to my
fellow creatures."

Soon after this publication he was attacked by an
host of infidel writers, madly pursuing the champion
who had entered their strong holds, and laid open
their untenable fortresses. But the praises of good
men, and the thanks of Christians, consoled him,
and within, was the silent approbation of his own
heart. The most judicious critics, the most distin-
guished characters ip England, admired the work,
and sought the intimacy of the author ; and the
king, patronizing both him and his cause, granted
him a yearly pension of 2UU pounds. Raised to

268 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

wealth and honor, by a work from which he expect-
ed neither, he was taught to realize that a reward
even in this Ufe often follows the zealous and firm
discharge of duty.

In a short time followed the publication of his
" Minstrel," a work in which the progress of genius
in the human mind, and descriptions of the imagery
of nature, are combined with the purest moral sen-
timents, and clothed with the melody and majesty
of which English verse is susceptible. In its differ-
ent sphere it was not less celebrated than his essay,
and it still remains a monument of exquisite taste,
and harmonious versification. " It seems to me,"
said the virtuous Lord Lyttleton, after his first pe-
rusal of it, "that my beloved minstrel, Thompson,
had come down from heaven, refined by the con-
verse of pure spirits, to let me hear him sing again,
the beauties of nature, and the finest feelings pf vir-
tue, not in human, but angelic strains." His visit
to London, the ensuing summer, was rendered
agreeable by the acquisition of many valuable
friends ; for kings and peers, bishops, poets and
philosophers, sought to proffer him their friendship,
and from this period his history is interwoven by
confidential correspondence with the most distin-
guished and venerated characters of the age.

The university of Oxford hastened to confer upon
him an honorary degree of Doctor of Laws, and on
the day of it^ pubhc bestowment a Latin Oration
was pronounced in his praise by the Professor of
Civil Law, Dr. Vansittart, whi^e the loud and reit-
erated applause of a vast concourse, convinced him
that his character was neither unknown, or disre-
garded. The celebrated artist, Sir Joshua Rey-

DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 259

nolds, presented him with his portrait, and executed
an allegorical painting, representing him as large as
life, in the character of the champion of truth, while
an angel descending, darts its rays intensely from
a sun that blazes on his breast, and three figures,
differently representing Sophistry, Scepticism, and
Infidelity, are seen hiding their eyes, and refusing
" to come to the light lest their deeds should be re-
proved." This elegant performance was placed in
the Exhibition, as a specimen of the talents of that
ingenious and amiable artist.

The celebrated Mrs. Montague, referring to the
transactions of the times, says, in one of her letters,
" It is not on your account alone that I rejoice in
the honors and marks of distinction and applause
you have received, but I congratulate the age on
the zeal with which thev pay regard to merit." In
this little extract of his life, I have been the more
diffuse upon this point, to show that the world has,
in one instance at least, wisely appreciated the ta-
lentii and virtues of an obscure man.

In the spring of 1744, his removal to the more
flourishing university of Edinburgh was repeatedly
solicited, but in vain ; and immediately after, he re-
ceived several urgent requests from his friends in
London, to take orders and enter the Church of
England. His answer to Dr. Porteus, Eishop of
London, who offered him a living of 500/. a^ear, is
an admirable display of purity of principles, 'and in-
tegrity of mind. Among the reasons that induced
him to decline the proposal, he numbers one, that
determined the humane, the pious Wilberforce, in a
similar choice ; — " that his writings in favour of re-
ligion would be more attended to, if he continued a

260 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

layman." He acknowledges that his opinions, stu-
dies, way of life, and habits of thinking, were in-
clined to that profession, that he had several times,
at different periods of life, been disposed to enter
it, but had been prevented by incidents so remarka-
ble, as without presumption might be considered
particular interpositions of Providence, and though,
for weighty reasons, he was then induced to de-
cline it, promises " to the last hour of his life to
preseiTC a most grateful remembrance of the
honor intended, and to employ that health and lei-
sure which Providence might afford, in opposing in-
fidelity, heresy and error, and in promoting, to the
utmost of his power, sound literature and Chris-
tian truth."

We have seen Beattie suddenly emerging from
the penury and seclusion that enveloped darkly the
first twenty-four years of his life, rising as it were
in a moment, to dignity, and wealth, and reputation,
and honor. We have seen no affliction mingling
with his prosperity, no difficulty obstructing his use-
fulness, no crime staining his name, and have
almost been led to suppose him exempted from the
many " ills that flesh is heir to." Yet he, too, hud
afflictions ; and they fell where he was most vul-
nerable— in his family. He was a man tremblingly
alive to every claim of sympathy, to every feeling
of aft'ection, and where he most expected synipa-
thy, where he most looked for affection, he felt
deeply that "the heart knoweth its own bitter-
ness." His wife, in a very short time afler their
marriage, gave evidence of a distempered mind,
and her disease at length terminated in hopeless
insanity. He watched over, and cherished her.

DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 261

with the utmost tenderness, suffering anxious days
and sleepless nights, until the physicians pronounced
her seclusion from society absolutely necessary,
and he then procured for her every possible accom-
modation and comfort. " When I reflect on his
unwearied and unremitting attention to her," says
an intimate friend, " his character is exalted in my
mind to a degree which may be equalled, but
I am sure can never be excelled, and which makes
the fame of the poet and philosopher fade from my
remembrance."

Disappointed in his hope of rational domestic
enjoyment, he turned his undivided attention to the
education of his two sons. His eldest showed a
taste for a retired and studious life ; he had labored
from his infancy to instil correct moral and religious
principles into his mind, and was happy to find that
his genius inclined to the studies of theology, classi-
cal learning, morality, poetry and criticism. In
Latin, Greek and French, he was a successful
student, and so ffreat was his proficiency, and so
faultless his deportment, that the university recom-
mended him to his majesty as a proper successor to
bis father, and he was accordingly nominated as
Professor of Moral Philosophy at the age of nine-
teen. But he was a plant of short duration ; a
sudden decline seized him, and in his twenty-second
year, perceiving death to approach, he met it with
firmness and submission, without delirium or strug-
gle, complaint or groan. To the afflicted father in
this hour of wo, might be applied a hne of his
own effusion —

" He thought as a sage, while he felt as a man."
22

262 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

In his account of the life of his son, prefixed to a
selection of his writings, he says, " the Lord gave,
and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name
of the Lord. I adore the Author of all good, who
gave him grace to lead such a life, and die such a
death, as makes it impossible for a Christian to
doubt of his having entered upon the inheritance of
a happy immortality." To his only remaining son
he now turned, as to a last hope. He was ten years
younger than his lost brother, and of a different
taste, yet his attainments in science were by no
means despisable, and his father educated him for
the church. But a cloud enveloped his fairest prds-
pects. This only surviving son became the sudden
victim of a distressing fever, when he had scarcely
entered his eighteenth year. Looking for the last
time upon the dead body of his child, he said, " I
have now done with the world." His letters written
at this time, no one of common humanity can read
without emotion. In one he says, " my son Mon-
tagu sleeps in his brother's grave. A fever cut
him off in five days, but he spoke with composure
and Christian piety of his approaching dissolution,
and gave directions for his iuneral. Within a few
minutes of his death, he was heard to repeat in a
whisper the Lord's prayer, and to begin an unfinished
sentence, of which nothing could be heard but the
words, '■incorruptible glory.^ But I thank God,
that though I am now childless, I am entirely re-
signed. I have had too much experience not to
know, that the only sources of comfort in cases of
this kind, are submission to the Divine will, and the
slow and silent operation of time."

But he had not long to bear the complicated evils

PR. JAMES 6EATTIE. 268

of mortality ; and with a decayed constitution, and
a mind unhinged and broken, he waited the final
period of his sutierings. Repeated paralytic shocks
preceded his dissolutic^n, and for the last year of his
life deprived him wholly of the power of motion,
until the morning of Thursday, August 18, 1803,
when it pleased the Almighty to remove him from
this world to a better, in the 68th year of his age,
without apparent pain, for he seemed not to sutler,
but only to fall asleep.

But though long dechning, and weary, and like a
bruised reed shaken over the grave, he forsook not
his hold upon the strong pillar of our hope. His
piety was evinced, not merely by his written labors,
or his regular attendance upon the public ordinances
of religion, but by his unfeigned resignation to the
hand that afflicted him, and the unequivocal testimony
of the strict performance of private devotion. The
daughter of his favorite sister who resided with him
till his death, informs, that " after he had retired to his
chamber, she frequently overheard his voice , ren-
dered audible by the ardor of prayer ; and that
throughout the day, when his spirits were more than
usually depressed, she could perceive that he was
ofTering up his orisons to heaven, with the utmost
fervor." This narrow abstract of the life and death
of a good man, 1 close with an epitaph of his own,
designed for himself, and written many years pre-
vious to his death.

Escap'd the jjloom of mortal life, a soul
Here leaves its mould'ring tenement of tiny,
Safe, where no cares their whelming billows roll,
No doubts bewilder, and no hojics betray.

264 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

Like thee, I once have stemm'd the sea of hfe ;
Like thee, have languisli'd after empty joys ;
Like thee, have labor'd in the stormy strife ;
Been griev'd for trifles and amus'd with toys.

Yet for a while 'gainst Passion's threatful blast
Let steady Reason urge the struggling oar ;
Shot through the dreary gloom, the morn at last
Gives to thy longing eye the blissful shore.

Forget my frailties, thou art also frail ;
Forgive my lapses, thou thyself may'st fall ;
Nor read unmov'd, my artless, tender tale, —
I was a friend, O man, to thee, to all.

REV. SAMUEL STILLMAX.

The Rev. Samuel Stillman, D. D. was a native

of Philadelphia, born Feb. 27, 1737, educated at

Charleston, in South Carolina, ordained

1737. and settled in the ministry at James Isl-
and, near Charleston, in the 22d year of
his age. The peculiar nature of a southern climate,
and the declining state of his health, compelled him
to part from this pleasant residence after continuing
there 18 months. A temporary recovery enabled
him to officiate two years at Bordenstown, New
Jersey, and with constant exertion to supply two va-
cant congregations. Afterwards he visited New-
England, and was prevailed upon to accept the care
of the first Baptist Church in Boston, where he
spent the remainder of his days, diffijsing through a
wide sphere the lustre of his talents, and the spirit
of his virtues. Nature had endowed him with un-
common quickness of apprehension, and feelings
peculiarly ardent and lively. These gave activity
to all his pursuits, and under the control of religious
principles, greatly increased his usefulness and
piety.

This constitutional fervency both of sentiment
and action led him to enter with his whole heart into
whatever he undertook ; yet it was united with a
delicacy, that would shrink to wound the feelings of
another, and with such easy and conciliating man-
22*

266 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

ners, as to adapt himself to almost every society,
without diminishing personal dignity and respect.
His lively interest in whatever affected his friends,
the gentleness of his reproofs, and the gratification
he seemed to feel in commending others, endeared
him to all his acquaintance. It is said that the
popularity of a preacher often declines with his
years, but to this doctrine he was a singular excep-
tion. For more than 48 years he deservedly retained
his celebrity ; his congregation, from a small number,
became one of the largest where he resided, and his
praise was in all the churches.

His eloquence was powerful and impressive ; his
manner so strikingly interesting, that he never
preached to an inattentive audience ; and the very
tone and modulation of his voice admirably calcu-
lated to awaken the feelings. In his prayers there
was a fervor that seldom failed to raise the devotion
of his hearers ; they came from the heart, and
reached the hearts of others. Even those who
dissented from him in the minor points of theologj",
sought to hear him, for they knew his sincerity ; —
they knew him to be a good man, and that what he
instructed others to be, he himself exemplified. In
the chamber of sickness and aifliction, he appeared
like a pitying angel. He knew how to comfort or
to caution, to soothe, to awaken, or to administer
reproof, in so mild and delicate a manner, as to
touch, without distressing the feelings. How many
wounded hearts he has bound up, from how many
weeping eyes he has chased tears, to how many
thoughtless souls brought the spirit of awakening ;
how many saints he has edified and built up, how
many wavering minds established, how many re-

REV. SAMUEL 8TILLMAN. 267

pentant sinners comforted, can never be fully known
until the judgment of the great day.

His domestic character was in perfect imison
with his public ministrations. Of husbands, he was
one of the most kind and accommodating ; of
parents, the most affectionate and endearing. It
pleased the Author of wisdom to call liim, within
the space of a few years, to bury seven of his
children, all of whom had reached years of maturity,
and some of them were surrounded by infant fami-
lies. Yet under these pecuhar trials he was
uniformly patient and submissive, and his mind lost
nothing of its lively confidence and cheerful hope,
for it rested, with strong assurance, upon the perfect
wisdom of the Eternal.

His constitution from infancy was delicate, yet
he survived almost all his neighboring clerical con-
temporaries. It was his constant prayer, that " his
life and his usefulness might run parallel," and this
desire was gratified. Slight indisposition detained
him from church the two last Sabbaths of his Ufe,
and on the following Wednesday, without any pre-
vious symptoms, he was attacked by a paralytic
shock. A few hours after, he received a second
stroke, grew insensible and expired.

He was then in his seventieth year ; just touched
the boundary of the life of man, and, as it were,
wrapped in a veil, was suddenly taken from the earth.
Infinite goodness spared him the pain of formal
separation from a flock and family, whom he most
tenderly loved, and warmly reciprocated his affection,
and whose tears must long continue to flow at tiie
remembrance of the friend and the shepherd who
has departed.

REV. JONATHABT EDWARDS, 2d.

Jonathan Edwards, was the second son of
the Rev. Jonathan Edwards, President of Prince-
ton College ; and born at Northampton,

1745. May 26, 1745. In early childhood he
was affected with such an inveterate in-
flammation of the eyes, as to prevent his learning
to read until a much later period than is common
in New England, although his capacity was early
discoverable, and he appeared ambitious of excel-
ling as soon as the mind began to unfold itself.
The obstinate malady that so long discouraged his
exertions, was at length perceived to yield to the
repeated operation of shaving the head, and the
hopes of his parents began to revive, that he might
not be altogether lost to the literary world. When
he arrived at his sixth year, the unhappy dissension
between the people of Northampton and his father,
terminated in his dismission, and removal to Stock-
bridge.

While here, this child learned so perfectly the
language of the Mohekanews or Stockbridge
Indians, that the natives observed, that " he spoke
exactly like themselves." This he retained through
life ; and some years before his death gave the pub-
lic some interesting remarks upon its construction

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2d. 269

and peculiarities. At the age of ten, his father,
who intended him for a missionary among the Abo-
rigines, sent him with the Rev. Gideon Ilawley, to
Oughqaugu, on the Susquehannah river, to acquire
the language of the Oneida tribe. This was a
distance of one hundred miles from any English set-
tlement, directly through a howling wilderness, yetthe
courage of the child shrunk not at the undertaking,
or at the prospect of exchanging the ease of a
father's house, for the unaccommodating huts of
the ravages. He made a rapid progress in acquir-
ing the language, and so gained the aftections of
the untutored natives, tliat when their settlement
was once exposed to invasion, they took him upon
their shoulders, and carried him many miles through
the wilderness to a place of safety.

But the breaking out of the French war, render-
ed his stay among them dangerous, and he returned
to his father, and some years after removed, with
the rest of his family, to Princeton, New Jersey.
In his seventeenth year, he was admitted a student
at Nassau Hall, and in the second year of his con-
tinuance there, became religiously impressed, and ob-
tained hope of reconciliation to God through Jesus
Christ. He continued for a time, a diary of his
spiritual state, which shows his constant watch
against every sin, and care to hve a holy and blame-
less hfe. In his 18th year, he publicly dedicated
himself to God, and the following covenant and
prayer written at the time, show the deep sense that
he entertained of that interesting and awful solem-
nity.

270 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS.

J^iTossan Hall, September I7fh, 1763.

"I, Jonathan Edwards, student of the college
in New Jersey, on this 17th day of September,
1763, being the day before the first time I propose
to draw near to the Lord's table, after much thought
and due consideration, as well as prayer to Almigh-
ty God, for his assistance, resolved in the grace
of God, to enter into an express act of self-dedica-
tion, to the service of God ; as being a thing highly
reasonable in its own nature, and that might be of
eminent service to keep me steady in the Christian
course, to rouse me from sloth and indolence, and
uphold me in the day of temptation.

Eternal and ever blessed God ! I desire, with
the deepest humiliation and abasement of soul, to
come, in the name, and for the sake of Jesus Christ,
and present myself before thee, sensible of my
infinite unworthiness to appear before thee, and
especially on such an occasion as this, to enter into
a covenant with ' thee. But notwithstanding my
sins have made such a separation between thee and
my soul, I beseech thee, through Christ thy son to
vouchsafe thy presence with me, and acceptance
of the best sacrifice that I can make. I do, O
Lord, in hopes of thy assisting grace, solemnly
make an entire and perpetual surrender of all I
am and have unto thee, being determined in thy
strength to renounce all former Lords w ho have
had dominion over me, every lust of the eye, of
the flesh, and of the mind, and to live entirely devo-
ted to thee and to thy service. To thee do I con-
secrate the powers of my mind, with whatever
improvements thou hast already, or shalt be pleased
hereafter to grant me in the literary way: purpos-

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2D. 271

iiig, if it be thy good pleasure, to pursue my studied
assiduously, that I may be better prepared to act
in any sphere of life in which thou shall place
me. I do also solemnly dedicate all my posses-
sions, my time, my influence over others, to be all
used for thy glory. To thy direction, I resign myself
and all that I have, trusting all future contingencies
in thine hands, and may thy will in all things, and
not mine, be done. Use me, 0 Lord, as an instru-
ment in thy service. I beseech thee, number me
among thy |)eople. May I be clothed with the
righteousness of thy Son : ever impart to me
through him all needed supplies of thy purifying
and cheering Spirit. I beseech thee, O Lord, that
tliou wouldcst enable me to live according to this
my vow, constantly avoiding all sin ; and when I
shall come to die, in that solemn and awful hour,
may 1 remember this my covenant, and do thou,
O Lord, remember it too, and give my departed spirit
an abundant admittance into the realms of bliss.
And if, when I am laid in the dust, any surviving
friend should meet with this memorial, may it be a
means of good to him, and do thou admit him to par-
take of the blessings of thy covenant of grace,
through Jesus the great Redeemer, to whom with
thee, O Father, and the Holy Spirit, be ascribed
everlasting praises, by saints and angels. Amen.
Jonathan Edwards."

In 1765, he received the degree of Bachelor of
Arts; in 1766 was licensed, as a minister; 1767,
appointed tutor in Princeton College, and two years
at'ter, ordained pastor over the church of AN hite
Uaven, a society in the town of ^iew Haven, Con-

272 BIOGRAFHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

necticut. About twelve years after his settlement,
he met with an affliction that severely tried his
fortitude as a man, and his resignation as a Christian.

One fine day in the summer, while taking an
airing in his chaise, with his wife, in a pleasant part
of the vicinity, he was called to attend to some ne-
cessary business, and wished her to return without
him. As she proceeded homeward, she suffered
the horse to drink at a watering place iaa small river,
when he suddenly plunged, fell, and threw her from
her seat — to a watery grave. This amiable and
excellent lady left behind her four children, who
with their father, sustained by this event an unex-
pected and irreparable loss. The residence of Dr.
Edwards at White Haven, had long been rendered
unpleasant, by the opposite religious opinions,
maintained by many of his most influential parish-
ioners, and therefore at the mutual request of pastor
and people, he was dismissed by an ecclesiastical
council, in May, 1795, having officiated there more
than twenty-five years.

A few months after he was unanimously chosen
the minister of Colebrook, (Conn.) and found him-
self placed in the midst of an affectionate people,
and in a retired situation, very favorable to the pro-
secution of his beloved studies. From this spot,
which was much endeared to him, he was parted by
a call to tlie Presidency of Union College, which
had recently been instituted and endowed, in the
town of Schenectady, and state of New York.
Hither he removed in July, 1 799, and assiduously
devoted his talents and attention, to the improve-
ment and welfare of this infant seminary.

In the second year after his investment with that

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2d. 273

important and responsible dignity, he was attacked
with a lever, whose rapid progress deprived him of
speech, motion, at intervals of reason, and eventu-
aJly of life, on the 1st of August, 1801. The ef-
fects of his disorder prevented him from expressing
his feelings at the near approach of eternity, but in
its early stages he expressed entire and cheerful re-
signation to the will of God ; and now, we trust, he
reaps the reward of his labors, of his prayers, and
of his piety.

This departed saint, when a child, was singularly
.dutiful and conscientious, and throughout all the
changes of life the same spirit was discernible.
From nature he received an ardent, irritable dispo-
sition, and early formed a resolution, to withstand
this propensity, until it should be subdued. And
let those who are formed like him, and like him
painfully " strive for the mastery," know, that by
vigilance, by firmness and prayer, he accomplished
this arduous task, and acquired such an unusual
command over his passions, as to pass through
some of the most trying circumstances in which
man can be placed, with uncommon patience and
equanimity. Like St. Paul, he knew what it was
to be abased, and what it was to abound ; and in
prosperity and adversity he appeared the same.
His fortitude under trials was great ; not the frigid
apathy of stoicism, but a constant reliance on Di-
vine Providence, and resignation to its will.

As a man of learning and strength of mind, he
had not a superior in the United States, and proba-
bly but few in the world. His logical powers were
preeminent, and little inferior to those of his father ;
and his talents were improved for the defence, sup-
23

274 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

port and advancement of the religion that he loved.
As a preacher, his manner of dehvery was bold and
animated, addressed more to the understanding and
conscience than to the passions ; yet all who had
the pleasure to hear him, acknowledge, that in his
own mode, he was rarely, if ever excelled. His
reasonings were strong and conclusive, closely con-
fined to the subject, original and instructive.

President Edwards, as a son, a husband, a parent
and member of society, was faithful and exemplary.
In his manner of life he was strictly methodical.
Being blessed with good health, he generally rose
early, and began his regular diurnal routine of duty
and business ; considering his immediate duty to his
Creator, as requiring his firstattention, and afterwards
the relative and social duties of life. His exercise,
studies, and all other concerns, so far as might be
consistent with his parochial duties, were systema-
tized, and uniformly attended in their respective
seasons. He merited and possessed the esteem
and affection of an extensive literary and clerical
acquaintance, who looked upon him, under God,
as one of the firmest pillars and ablest defenders of
the church, in a day of declension and infidelity ;
and in his death, both science and religion sustained
a loss, which the hand that caused can alone repair.
His literary productions are, a work entitled, " The
Salvation of all men, strictly examined, and the
endless punishment of those who die impenitent,
argued and defended against the reasonings of Dr.
Chauncey ;" "a dissertation of Liberty and Necessi-
ty ;" " Observations on the language of the Stock-
bridge Indians ;" " Three sermons on the atone-
ment of Christ," and a variety of occasional dis-

REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2d. 275

courses. He edited, also, several posthumous
works of his father, and left behind him many man-
uscripts worthy of pubhcation.

To comprise in one short sentence the excellen-
cies of this great man, let it be recorded, that he
was a son loorthy of his parents ; and to those who
were acquainted with those patterns of piety, this
will comprehend all that has been written, and all
that might be said. Between him and his father,
striking features of resemblance exist. They were
both distinguished scholars ; tutors of the semina-
ries where they were educated ; settled in congre-
gations in which their maternal grandfathers were
settled before them ; dismissed on account of their
religious opinions ; settled again in retired situa-
tions ; elected to the Presidency of a college, and
within a short time after their inauguration, died, the
one in his 66th, the other in his 67th year. In per-
son, mind and life, they were also remarkably similar»
and to them has sometimes been applied the em-
phatic eulogium of Shakespeare,

" Take them all in all,

You nc'or will look upon their like again."

SIR WILLIAM JONES.

This illustrious man was born in Wales, in the
year 1746. His father was the famous mathema-
tician, William Jones, who studied niath-

1746. ematics under Sir Isaac Newton, and was
at once his pupil and his friend. Under
the guidance and tuition of such a parent, the mind
of the son was early formed to regular habits of
thinking, and endued with the generous enthusiasm
of literary fame. After acquiring at home, the rudi-
ments of classical learning, he was placed at school,
where he distinguished himself by his wonderful
facility in acquiring the learned languages, and by
a fine taste in Latin poetry. He was soon made a
fellow of the university of Oxford, where he was
equally distinguished for prematurity of mind, and
unexampled diligence in study. Before he attained
the age of twenty-two, he had acquired a thorough
knowledge of the Hebrew, Greek and Latin, Per-
sian and Arabic tongues. He had also cultivated
the polished languages of modern Europe, and his
knowledge of the French was so perfect, that while
he was a recluse student at the university, he trans-
lated the history of Nadir Shaw from Persian into
French, with such grammatical exactness, and ele-

SIR WILLIAM JONES. 277

gance of diction, as obtained the applause of the
most judicious critics in France.

About this time he published his " Commenta-
ries on Asiatic Poetry." At the age of 24, he de-
termined to attach himself to the profession of law,
and with his studies in general jurisprudence, and
the common law of England, united physical sci-
ences, and pursued, with amazing rapidity, his re-
searches into the literature of Asia. He published
a number of ingenious essays in prose, and a vol-
ume of poems, consisting chiefly of translations
from Arabic, Persian and Turkish authors. The
reputation of his genius and learning began to ex-
tend itself, and his acquaintance to be sought by
men of the first rank and literature. Through the
friendship of Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Rey-
nolds, he was introduced to the Literary Society, of
which he continued a member, until his embarka-
tion for India, in 1783, having been appointed one
of the judges of the supreme court of Calcutta.

After his arrival, and introduction to office, he
proposed a plan for instituting a society " for the
purpose of inquiring into the history, arts, sciences
and literature of Asia." This proposal was patro-
nized by Mr. Hastings, the governor general, and
eagerly embraced by those gentlemen in Calcutta,
who were best qualified to estimate its advantages,
and to contribute to its support. Sir WiUiam Jones
was elected perpetual president of this new formed
society, and delivered his preliminary discourse in
1784. The wide and fruitful region of Asiatic
learning was now opened before him, while his
high and independent station gave him a command-
ing prospect of it, and furnished him full scope for
23*

278 BIOGRAPHy OF PIOUS PERSONS.

the energy of a powerful mind. In the exercise of
his profession, he administered to his fellow crea-
tures the pure maxims of justice and of truth, and
obeyed those laws which it was his business to en-
force on others.

He had long ardently desired to study the San-
scrit language, and in three years made himself so
completely master of it, that the most enlightened
professors of the doctrine of Brahma, confessed
with pride, delight and surprise, that his knowledge
of their sacred dialect was most critically correct
and profound. Their respect and attachment con-
tinued to the last ; and the Pundits who were in the
habit of attending him, felt the highest admiration of
his superior talents and virtues, and uttered poig-
nant lamentations at his death. He applied him-
self to his studies with pertinacious and unwearied
diUgence, and notwithstanding the great attention
which his professional duties required, and the labor
of preparing many learned discourses for the Asiatic
Society, he found time to compose and pubUsh
some curious and important works. The principal
were an English version of the Sirajijah, or Maho-
metan law of inheritance, with a commentary; the
Institutes of Menu literally translated from the
Sanscrit, with a learned preface, treating of the an-
tiquity and value of the work, and an elegant trans-
lation of the drama of Sancontala, from the same
language. The first of these performances he
printed at his own expense, and sold for the benefit
of insolvent debtors ; an act of such disinterested
benevolence, as ought to be transmitted to posterity.
He had engaged in a copious digest of the Ma-
hometan and Hindoo law, compiled from Arab and

SIR WILLIAM JONES. 279

Sanscrit originals : but the strong hand of death ar-
rested the progress of the performance. In April,
1794, he was attacked by a bilious complaint, which
in a few weeks baffled the skill of the physicians.
The last hour of his life was marked by a most sol-
emn act of devotion. Finding his dissolution rap-
idly approaching, he desired his attendants to carry
him to an inner apartment, and leave him awhile to
himself. Returning, after an interval, they found
him in a kneeling attitude of prayer, with his hands
clasped, and his eyes fixed towards heaven, and as
they were removing him — he expired.

The person of Sir William Jones was genteel
and graceful ; his countenance, open, manly, viva-
cious and serene. His deportment was dignified,
yet easy : his address, courteous, yet plain : his
manners, polished yet familiar. Hence, at first ac-
quaintance, he not only excited the admiration, but
acquired the esteem, of those with whom he con-
versed. In conversation, he illustrated in a pleas-
ing manner every topic which was discussed, and
conveyed instruction with a modesty and elegance
that captivated, while it enriched the mind. The
placidity and gentleness for which he was distin-
guished, did not proceed from constitutional tame-
ness and languor, but from the union of tempe-
rance and UberaUty, which virtuous habits had form-
ed in his mind. He was sedate, moderate and
cautious ; but at the same time animated, aspiring,
and generous. He possessed a proud honor, an
inflexible firmness, and a high sense of justice ; yet
he had not in his disposition either haughtiness,
obstinacy or austerity. His pride consisted in the
love of independence ; his resolution, in shunning
the temptations of vice ; his idea of equity, in pro-

280 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

moting peace and happiness among men, by mak-
ing the laws lovely rather than severe.

He was no less estimable in public than in pri-
vate life. Whether we consider his fine taste, the
strength of his mental faculties, or the vast extent
and variety of his acquirements, we are equally
surprised by his talents. His intellectual powers
were of the highest order. The clearness of his
understanding no paradox could perplex ; the
quickness of his perception ran through systems at
a glance ; the solidity of his judgment, even his
lively fancy could not warp ; and nothing useful
or elegant escaped the retentive vigor of his memo-
ry. To these properties, he added a fertile imagi-
nation, a capacious comprehension, and an elasti-
city of mind, which gave activity to all the opera-
tions of genius. His mind, thus constituted,
was enriched with the collective science and learn-
ing of all times, ages, and nations ; and elevated
by a piety, which gave lustre, dignity and consis-
tency to the whole.

Sir John Shore, in a discourse delivered before
a convention of the Asiatic Society, soon after the
melancholy event of his death, observes, — " I have
already enumerated attainments and works, which,
from their diversity and extent, seem far beyond the
capacity of the most enlarged minds ; but the cata-
logue may yet be augmented. To a proficiency in
the languages of Greece, Rome and Asia, he add-
ed the knowledge of the philosophy of those coun-
tries, and of every thing curious and valuable in
them. The doctrines of the Academy, and the Ly-
ceum of the Portico, were not more familiar to him,
than the tenets of the Vcdas, the mysticism of the
Susis, or the religion of the ancient Persians ; and

SIR WILLIAM JONES. 281

while with a kindred genius, he pursued with rap-
ture the heroic, lyric, or moral compositions of the
most renowned poets of Greece, Rome and Asia,
he could turn with equal deUght and knowledge to
the sublime speculations, or mathematical calcula-
tions, of Barrow and of Newton. With them also
he professed his conviction of the truth of the
Christian religion, and justly deemed it no incon-
siderable advantage, that his researches had corro-
borated the multiplied evidence of revelation, by
confirming the Mosaic account of the primitive
world."

It may perhaps be acceptable to our readers to
peruse an epitaph which this great and good man
composed for himself some time previous to his
death.

" Here lie deposited

The mortal remains of a man

Who feared God, but not death ;

And maintained independence,

But soiiirht not riches :

who thought

None below him but the base and unjust :

None above him but the wise and virtuous.

Who loved

His parents, kindred, friends, country,

With an ardor,

Which was the chief source of

All his pleasures, and all his pains ;

And who having devoted

His life to the service and to

The improvement of his mind,

Resigned it calmly,

Giving ulory to his < reator,

Wishing peace on earth

and

Good will to all creatures,

In the year of our blessed Redeemer,

17a4."

HON. SAMUEL OSGOOD.

The Honorable Samuel Osgood, a native of An-
dover, Massachusetts, was born on the 14th of Feb-
ruary, 1748. His parents paid much
1748. attention to the religious part of his ed-
ucation, and so early and lasting were
his impressions, that he cherished a hope of saving
conversion at the age of 15. In youth he was ad-
mitted a member of Harvard University, and ob-
tained the reputation of a good general scholar. His
most striking proficiency was in the Greek language,
and the science of mathematics ; in the former he
was acknowledged to be the first in his class, and,
at his graduation, was chosen from the whole num-
ber of candidates, to the honor of writing the math-
ematical thesis. After exchanging the seclusion of
study for the theatre of active UTe, he took an active
and decided part in the difterences which arose be-
tween this country and Great Britain. His talents,
judgment and information were soon percieved and
appreciated, and he was rapidly elevated to places
of trust, and offices of dignity. He executed, to
universal acceptance, the duties of Representative
and Senator in his native State, member of the Gen-
eral Congress, and fixst commissioner of the Treas-
ury.

HON. SAMUEL OSTGOOD. 283

The penetrating, virtuous Washington, placed
him in the department of Post Master General ; —
the city of New York selected him as a member of
their house of Representatives, and that legislative
body invested him with the honors of Speaker. In
1801, he has appointed Supervisor of the State of
New York, and after the abolition of that office, was
named as N aval Officer for the port of New York,
a post in which he continued till death. The ab-
sorbing duties of these important stations, and the
full tide of honor that rapidly poured upon him, did
not prevent the contemplation of the one thing need-
ful, or destroy the sincere humility of the Christian.
Looking back upon a life active and beneficent he
would say with diffidence and contrition, " my his-
tory for forty years, would contain but a gloomy ac-
count of omissions of duty, and commissions of
sin." He complained of lifelessness in the cause
of his Redeemer, and the withdrawings of spir-
itual comfort, though he still retained the hope of
forgiveness and acceptance.

Far from adopting that silence on religious sub-
jects which too often characterizes the professors of
the present day, he was forward to converse on the
state and expectation of his soul. Though the
church, of which he was an elder, was benefited by
his labors, and by his prayers, and though the light
of his course appeared to be that of the just, yet
deeply distrustful of his merits, it was his supreme
delight to cast himself upon Jesus Christ, as Jeho-
vah his righteousness." The three last years of his
life were marked with tranquillity, retirement and de-
votion. Though naturally cheerful, and uncommon-

284 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

ly affable in his manners, he was frequently con-
templative, and sometimes pensive.

His last illness was protracted and painful, but he
bore it with undeviating resignation, aud with more
than his usual portion of cheerfulness. The divin-
ity and infinite power of Him who had undertaken
for him, gave his mind much consolation. Re-
clining on his dying pillow he said with deep solem-
nity, " Bound as I am to eternity, I can rest on no-
thing short of a Saviour, a Saviour who is iruhj
God .?" Underneath him were the everlasting arms,^
and he calmly entered into his rest, on the 12th oC
August, 1813, in the 66th year of his age.

Not many who have basked in honor's smile,
Not many who the paths of wealth have trod,
Have turned their eyes from Earth's deceitful wile^
To seek the favor and the fear of God.

Yet one there was — on whom the flowing stream
Of ghttering wealth no proud delusion wrought ;
Yes — one there was — who, bright with hunor's beam,,
B jwed to the humble rule that Christ had taught.

Gone now — a purer fount of bliss to f aste —
Gone— to his last ineflable reward,
For so we trust, that with an angel's haste
He left this darkening earth and saw his Lord.

ELIZA CUNNINGHAM.

An account of this most amiable and interesting

young person is given to the public, by the Rev.

John Newton, whose niece she was,

1771. and in whose family she spent the last
years of her life. Suddenly bereaved
of her excellent parents, and an only brother and
sister whom she tenderly loved, the lonely orphan
found the arms of her relatives open to receive her,
and in their sympathy forgot, for a while, the an-
guish of those sorrows which gloomed the morning
of her life. In a languishing state of health, she
journeyed from Scotland to England, to put herself
under the protection of that kind uncle, to whom
her dying mother had bequeathed her, and I know
not how to express the interesting particulars of her
short life so well, as by borrowing the words of her
pious and affectionate biographer.

" Wc received our dear Eliza, as a trust, and as
a treasure, on the 15th of March, 1783, just as she
had entered her 12th year. We were prepared to
love her, before we saw her ; but she came into our
hands like a heap of untold gold, which, when
counted, proves a larger sum than was expected.
Her person was agreeable. There was an ease
and elegance in her whole address, and a graccful-
24

286 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

ness in her movements, until long illness and great
weakness bowed down her frame. Her disposition
was lively, her genius quick and inventive, and if
she had enjoyed health, she would probably have
excelled in every thing she attempted that required
ingenuity. Her understanding, particularly her judg-
ment, and sense of propriety, was far above her
years, and there was something in her appearance
which usually procured her favor at first sight.

But her principal endearing qualities, which could
be only fully known to us who hved with her, were
the sweetness of her temper, and a heart formed
for the exercise of affection, gratitude and friendship.
I know not that either her aunt or I, ever saw a
cloud upon her countenance during the whole time
she was with us. It is true we did not, we could
not, unnecessarily cross her ; but if we thought it
expedient to overrule any proposal she made, she
always acquiesced with a sweet smile, and we were
sure we should never hear of that proposal again. Her
delicacy, however, was quicker than our observation,
and she would sometimes say, when we could not
perceive the least reason for it, — ' I am afraid I an-
swered you peevishly. Indeed, I did not intend it.
If I did, I ask your pardon. I should be very un-
grateful if I thought any pleasure equal to that of
endeavoring to please you ?" It is no wonder that
we dearly loved such a child.

The hectic fever, cough, and sweats, which Eliza
brought with her from Scotland, were subdued in
the course of the summer, and there appeared no
reason to apprehend immediate danger. But stjil
there was a worm preying at the root of this beauti-
ful gourd. 8hu had seldom any pain till within the

EUZA CUNNINGHAM. 287

last fortnight of her life, and usually slept well, but
when awake was always ill. I believe she knew
not a single hour of perfect ease, and they who in-
timately knew her state, could not but wonder to see
her so placid, cheerful and attentive in company, as
she generally was. Many a time when the tears
have stolen silently down her cheeks, if she saw that
her aunt or I observed them, she would wipe them
away, come to us with a smile and a kiss, and say,
♦ Do not be uneasy, I am not very ill — I can bear it,
and shall be better presently.' Her case was thought
beyond the reach of medicine, and for a time no
medicine was used. She had air and exercise, as
the weather and circumstances would permit, and
the rest of the time amused herself as well as she
could with her guitar, or harpsichord, her book, or
her needle. She had a part, likewise, when able,
in such visits as we paid or received, and these were
generally regulated by a regard to what she could
bear. Her aunt, especially, seldom went abroad,
but at such times, and to such places, as we thought
agreeable and convenient to her. For we perceiv-
ed that she loved home best, and best of all when
we were at home with her.

In April, 1784, we put her under the care of my
dear friend. Dr. Benamor. To the divine blessing
on his skill and endeavors, I ascribe the pleasure
of having her continued with us so long. She is
now gone, and can no more repeat what she has
often spoken of— the great comfort it was to her,
to have so affectionate and sympathizing a physi-
cian ; — but while I hve, I hope it will always be my
pleasure to express my gratitude for his unwearied
attention, and for his great tenderness. But what

288 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

can the most efficacious medicines, or the best phy-
sicians avail to prolong life, when the hour approach-
es in which the prayer of the Great Intercessor
must be accomplished — "Father, I will, that they
whom thou hast given me, may be with me where I
am, to behold my glory." — This was the proper
cause of my dear Eliza's death. The Lord sent
her to me to be brought up for him, owned my poor
endeavors, and when her education was completed,
took her home to himself. He has richly paid me
my wages, in the employment itself, and in the hap-
py issue.

She was advised by her physicians to make trial of
the salt water, and we passed a month with her at
Southampton and at Lymington. The bathing was
evidently useful in giving some additional strength
to her very weak and relaxed frame, and we were
thus encouraged to repeat our visit the ensuing au-
tumn. But though she bathed a few times she could
not persevere, and when she returned, she entered
our door for the last time, for she went out no more,
till she was carried out to be put into her hearse.
We have now come to the last three weeks of her
pilgrimage — the most important and interesting peri-
od of her short life. Her excellent parents had
conscientiously endeavored to bring her up in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord, and the princi-
ples of religion had been instilled into her from her
infancy. Their labors were so far attended with
success, that no child could be more obedient or
obliging, or more remote from evil habits and dis-
positions ; but I could not perceive, when she first
came to us, that she had any heart affecting sense
of divine things. Bu( being under my roof, she of

BLIZA CUNNINGHAM. 289

course attended my ministry, when her health would
permit, and was usually present when I prayed and
expounded the Scriptures, morning and evening, in
my family. Friends and ministers were likewise
frequently with us, whose character and conversa-
tion were well suited to engage her notice, and to
help her to form a right idea of the Christian prin-
ciples and temper.

Knowing that she was of a thinking turn, I left
her to make her own reflections upon what she saw
and heard, committing her to the Lord, from whom
I had received her, and entreating him to be her ef-
fectual teacher. When I did attempt to talk with
her upon the concerns of her soul, she could give
me no answer but with tears. But I soon had great
encouragement to hope that the Lord had enlight-
ened her understanding, and had drawn the desires
of her heart to himself. Great was her delight in
the ordinances ; — exemplary her attention to preach-
ing ; and to be debarred from going to hear at our
stated times, was a trial which, though she patiently
bore, seemed to affect her more than any other, and
she did not greatly care what she suffered in the
week, provided she was able to attend the worship
on the Sabbath.

The judicious observations she occasionally made
upon what had passed in conversation, upon inci-
dents, books, and sermons, indicated a sound judg-
ment, and a spiritual taste. And my hope was con-
firmed by her whole deportment, which was becom-
ing the gospel of Christ. So that had she died sud-
denly, on any day of the last 18 months of her life,
I should have had no doubt of her eternal felicity.
But I could seldom prevail with her to speak of
24*

290 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

herself; if she did it was with the utmost caution
and diffidence. Soon after her last return from
Southampton, she became acquainted witii acute
pain. Her gentle spirit which had borne up under
long and languishing illness, sunk under this an-
guish, and though it occasioned no impatience or
repining, it rapidly destroyed her frame. On Fri-
day, the 30th of September, she was down stairs
for the last time, and then she was brought down
and carried up in our arms. It now became very
desirable to hear from herself a more explicit ac-
count of the hope that was in her ; especially, as
upon some symptoms of approaching mortification,
she appeared to be a httlc alarmed, and, of course,
not thoroughly reconciled to the thoughts of death.
Her aunt waited for the first convenient opportunity
of intimating to her that the time of her departure
was probably at hand.

The next morning presented one. She found
herself remarkably better, her pains were almost
gone, her spirits revived, the favorable change was
visible in her countenance. Her aunt began to
break the subject to her, by saying, ' My dear, were
you not extremely ill last night?' • Indeed I was.'
' Had you not been relieved I think you could not
have continued long.' ' I believe I could not.'
' My dear, I have been very anxiously concerned
for your Ufe.' ' But I hope, my dear aunt, you are
not so now. My views of things have been for
some time very different from what they were when
I came to you. I have seen and felt the vanity of
childhood and youth.' Her aunt said, ' 1 believe
you have long made a conscience of secret prayer.'
She answered, ' Yes, I have long and earnestly

ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 291

Bought the Lord with reference to the change which
is now approaching. I have not yet that full assur-
ance which is so desirable, but I have a hope, I trust
a good hope, and I believe the Lord will give me
whatever he sees necessary for me, before he takes
me hence. I have prayed to him to fit me for him-
self, and then whether sooner or later, it signifies
but little.'

Here was a comtor^able point gained. We were
satisfied that she had given up all expectation of
living, and could spt>ak of her departure without
being distressed. But her apparent revival was of
short duration. In the evening of the same day,
she began to complain of a sore throat, which be-
came worse, and before the noon of the next day,
threatened an absolute suffocation. When Dr. Be-
namor, who the day before had almost entertained
hopes of her recovery, found her so suddenly, and
so greatly altered, he could not, at the moment,
prevent some signs of his deep concern from ap-
pearing in his countenance. She quickly perceived
it, and desired he would plainly tell her his senti-
ments. When he had recovered himself, he said,
' You are not so well as when I saw you on Satur-
day.' She answered, ' I trust all will be well soon.'
He replied, that whether she lived or died, it would
be well, and to the glory of God.

He told me that he had much pleasing conversation
with her that morning, some particulars of which
he committed to writing, but had lost the paper.
From that time she may be said to have been
dying, as we expected her departure from one
hour to another. On Monday, she was in great

292 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

pain, sometimes in agonies, unable to remain many
minutes in the same position.

But her mind was peaceful, she possessed a spirit
of recollection and prayer, and her chief attention
to earthly things seemed confined to the concern
she saw in those who were around her. That
she might not increase their feelings for her, she
strove to conceal the sense of her own suffer-
ings.

About nine the next morning, we all thought her
dying, and waited near two hours by her bed-side
for her last breath. She was much convulsed, and
in great agonies. I said — ' My dear, you are going
to heaven, and I hope, by the grace of God, we in
due time shall follow you.' — She could not speak,
but let us know that she attended to what I said, by
a gentle inclination of the head, and a sweet smile.
I repeated to her many passages of Scripture, and
verses of hymns, to each of which she made the
same kind of answer. Though silent, her looks
were more expressive than words. Towards eleven
o'clock, a great quantity of coagulated phlegm,
which she had not strength to raise, made her rattle
violently in the throat, which we considered as a
sign that death was at hand : and as she seemed
unwilling to take something that was offered her, we
forbore to disturb her in whnt we supposed her
last moments. But our beloved physician, coming
in, observed that she was not near death by her
pulse, and desired that something might be given
her. A tea-spoonful or two of some liquid cleared
the passage, and she revived, but her pain was
extreme, and her disappointment great. I never
saw her so near impatience, as upon this occasion.

ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 293

As soon as she could speak, she cried out — ' Oh
cruel ! — cruel to recall me, when I was so happy,
and so near gone ! I wish you had not come. I
long to go home.'

But in a few moments she grew composed, as-
sented to what the doctor said of her duly to wait
the Lord's time ; and from that hour, though her
desires to depart and to be with her Saviour were
stronger and stronger, she cheerliiUy took whatever
was ofTered her, and frequently asked for something
of her own accord. How often, if we were to
have choice, should we counteract our own prayers !
I had entreated the Lord to prolong her life, till she
could leave an indisputable testimony behind her,
for our comfort. Yet when I saw her agony, and
heard her cry — ' Oh ! how cruel to stop me' — I was
for a moment almost of her mind, and could hardly
help wishing that the doctor had delayed his visit a
little longer. But if she had died then we should
have been deprived of what we saw and heard the
two following days, the remembrance of which is
unspeakably precious to me. When Dr. Benamor
came on Wednesday, she entreated him to tell her
how long he thought she might live. He said —
' Are you in earnest, my dear? — She answered, —
'Indeed I am.' At that time there were strong
symptoms of mortification, and he told her that she
might hold out till eight in the evening, but he did
not expect she could survive till midnight.

On hearing this, low as she was, her eyes seemed
to sparkle with their former vivacity, and fixing them
on him with an air of inefiable satisfaction she said,
♦ Oh that is good news indeed.' And she repeated
it as such to a person who came soon after into the

294 BIOGRAPHY OF FIOUS PERSONS.

room, and said with lively emotions of joy, " The
doctor tells me, I shall stay here but a few hours
more.' In the afternoon she noticed and counted
the clock every time it struck, and when it struck
seven, she said — ' another hour — and then — .' But
it pleased God to spare her to us another day. She
suffered much in the course of Wednesday night,
but was quite resigned and patient. Our kind
servants, who from love to her and us, watched her
night and day, with a solicitude and tenderness
which wealth is too poor to purchase, were witnesses
of the affectionate and grateful manner in which she
repeatedly thanked them for their services and
attentions to her. Though such an acknowledgment
was no more than their due, yet coming from her-
self, and at such a time, they highly valued it. She
added her earnest prayers that the Lord would
reward them. To her prayers, my heart says, amen.
May they be comforted of God in their dying
moments, as she was, and meet with equal kindness
from those who surround them.

I was surprised on Thursday morning, to find her
not only alive, but in some respects better. The
tokens of. mortification again disappeared. This
was her last day, and a memorable day to us.
When Dr. Benamor asked her how she was, she an-
swered— ' Truly happy, and if this is dying, it is a
pleasant thing to die.' She said to me about ten
o'clock — ' My dear uncle, I would not change con-
ditions with any person on earth. Oh ! how gracious
is the Lord to me. Oh what a change is before
me.' She was sometimes asked if she could wish
to live, provided God should restore her to perfect
health ; her answer was, ' Not for all the world ;"

ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 295

and sometimes, — ' Not for a thousand worlds,' —
but the last time she was asked the question, she
said — 'I desire to have no choice.' — She would
often say, 'Do not weep for me, my dear aunt, but
rather rejoice and praise on my account. I shall
now have the advantage of dear Miss Patty Barham
— (a beloved friend who had long been in a languish-
ing state) — for I shall go before her.' — We asked her
if she would choose a text for her own funeral
sermon — she readily mentioned — Whom the Lord
lovelh he cliasleneth — ' That,' said she, ' has been my
experience ; my afflictions have been many, but not
one too many ; nor has the greatest of them been
too great — I praise him for them all.' — But after a
pause, she said, — ' Stay, I tliink there is another
text, which may do better ; let it be — Blessed are
llie dead, wlw die in the Lord. — That is n)y experi-
ence now.' — She then chose a hymn to be sung
atlcr the sermon ; — the 72d of the second book of
Olney Hymns.

But I must check myself, and set down only a
small part of the gracious words which the Lord
enabled her to speak in the course of the day,
though she was frequently interrupted by pains and
agonies. She had something to say, either in the
way of admonition or consolation, as she thought
most suitable, to every one whom she saw. To
her most constant attendant she said, " Be sure to
call upon tlie Lord, and if you think he does not
hear you now, he will at last, as he has heard me."
She spoke a great deal to an intimate friend, who
was with her every day, which I hope she will long
remember, as the testimony of her dying Eliza.
Amongst other things she said, ' See how comfor-

296 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

table the Lord can make a dying bed. Do you
think you shall have an assurance when you come
to die V Bemg answered ' 1 hope so, my dear,'
she replied, ' But do you earnestly, and with all
your heart pray to the Lord for it t If you seek
him, you shall surely find him.' She then prayed
affectionately and fervently for her friend, after-
wards for her cousin, and then for another of our
family who was present. Her prayer was not
long, but her every word was weighty, and her
manner very affecting ; the purport was, that they
might all be taught and comforted by the Lord.

About five in the afternoon she desired me to
pray with her once more. Surely I then prayed
from my heart. When I had finished, she pronoun-
ced. Amen. I said, ' My dear child, have I ex-
pressed your meaning V She answered, ' Oh !
yes ;' and then added, ' I am ready to say, why
are his chariot ^vheels so long in coming '( But I
hope he will enable me to wait his hour with patience.*
These were the last words that I heard her speak.
Mrs. Newton's heart was much, perhaps too much,
attached to this dear child, which is not to be won-
dered at, when we consider what a child she was,
how we received her, and what we saw her suffer.
But her Master graciously supported her in this try-
ing season. Indeed there was much more cause
for joy than grief ; yet the pain of separation must
be felt. Eliza well knew her feelings, and a con-
cern for her was, I believe, the last anxiety that
remained with her. She said to those about her,
' Try to persuade my aunt to leave the room ; I
think I shall soon go to sleep. I shall not remain
with you till morning.' Her aunt, however, was

t

ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 297

the last person who heard her speak, and was sitting
by her bed when she went away.

A Utile past six, hearing that a relation who
dearly loved her, and was beloved by her, and who
had come daily from Westminster to see her, was
below stairs, she said, ' Raise me up, that I may
speak to him once more.' Her aunt said, ♦ My
dear, you are nearly exhausted, 1 think you had
better not attempt it.' She smiled, and said, ' It is
very well ; I will not' She was then within half
an hour of her translation to glory, but the love of
her dear Lord had so filled her with benevolence,
that she was ready to exert even her last breath,
in hopes of saying something that might be useful
to others, after she was gone.

Towards seven o'clock, I was walking in my
garden, earnestly engaged in prayer for her, when
a servant came to me, and said, *jS^e is gone.* '

0 Lord ! how great is thy power ! how great is
thy goodness. A few days before, had it been
practicable and lawful, what would I not have given
to |)rocure her recovery ? yet seldom ui njy life have

1 known a more heartfelt joy, than when these
words, " ahe is gone," sounded in my ears. I ran
up stairs, and our whole little family were soon
aroiuid her bed. Though her aunt and another
person were sitting with their eyes fixed upon her,
she was gone a few minutes before she was missed.
She lay upon her lelt side, with her cheek gently
reclining upon her hand, as if in a sweet sleep ;
and I thought there was a smile upon her counte-
jKUitx . Nevci surely did death appear in a more

25

298 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

beautiful, and more inviting form. We fell upon our
knees, and I returned, I think I may say, my most
unfeigned thanks to our God and Saviour for his
abundant goodness to her, crowned in this last in-
stance by giving her so gentle a dismission. Yes, I
ara satisfied. I am comforted. And if one of the
many involuntary tears I have shed could recall her
to Hfe, health, and an assemblage of all that this
world calls happiness, I would labor hard to suppress
it. Now my largest desires for her arc accom-
plished. The days of her mourning are ended.
She is landed on that peacefid shore, where the
storms of trouble never blow. She is forever out
of the reach of sorrow, temptation and sin. Now
she is before the throne! She sees him whom
having not seen she loved ; — she drinks of the rivers
of pleasure that flow at his right hand, and shall
thirst no more. She was born February 6th, 1771,
and died October 6th, 1785 aged 14 years and 8
months.

A child under the age of fifteen, did thus rejoice
in the midst of pains and agonies. She was wil-
ling to leave all her friends whom sIks loveil, and
by whom she was tenderly beloved, for she knew
in whom she believed, and that when she should be
absent from the body she should be present with
the Lord. She triumphed in the hope of glory, and
smiled upon the approach of death. It may be
presumed that whoever seriously considers lliis case,
will not be able to satisfy himself, by ascribing such
remarkable effects in so young a subject, to the
power of habit, example or system. II' he does

ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 299

not account for them on the principles of the gos-
pel, he will be unable to assign any proportionable
cause. And it is to be feared, that if he is not
affected by a testimony so simple and so striking,
neither would he be persuaded thoiigh one should
rise from the dead."

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIBf.

I ATTEMPT to abridge for you, my ybung friends,
a little work entitled, " A monument of Parental

Affection, to a dear and only son ;" and 1
1788. regret that my limited time, and narrow

bounds, compel me to compress or to
leave out any part of what is so excellent. The
character is so admirable, that it must excite strong
desire of imitation in every reflecting mind ; while
the sorrows of a father lamenting (he loss of an
only child, and bending over the tomb which has
swallowed up all his earthly hopes, must excite the
commiseration of every susceptible heart, and draw
a tear from every eye which confesses the claims of
sympathy and compassion.

Joshua Rowley Gilpin, the only son of the Rev.
J. Gilpin, pastor of Wreck ward ine, in the county of
Salop, England, was born Jan. 30, 1788. In infan-
cy, when the internal texture slowly yet truly disco-
vers itself, he displayed a remarkably mild and pa-
tient disposition, and showed no propensity to anger
when what ho loved most was withheld. This dis-
position, which promised to those around him, as
well as to himself, much comfort, seemed to acquire
additional strength with his years ; and it is suppos-
ed that there never existed a youth less subject to

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 301

petulance or passion, or who could meet the una-
voidable vexations of life with a greater degree of
calmness and tranquillity. His father undertook
the sole care of his education, and found the em-
ployment a source of perpetual delight.

So gentle, so docile, so industrious was his young
pupil, that he never had occasion to direct to him a
single expression of displeasure, and throughout
the whole course of his life no correction was nec-
essary, and no instrument of chastisement was ever
seen in the house. His first perceivable inclination
was for drawing, in which he engaged when almost
an infant ; and though his first attempts were rude,
he soon began to surprise his friends with the bold-
ness of his designs, and accuracy of his execution.
While engaged in this favorite amusement, a dis-
sected alphabet was placed before him, and his de-
sire was so great to furnish his drawings with suita-
ble titles, that he soon made himself master of it.

Now a new field of pleasure was opened for him
to range in, and from the productions of the pencil
his mind was turned to the various arrangements
and combinations of these lettets ; so that at an
age when many children have scarcely learned their
names, he was forming them into short sentences,
not only of a playful, but of a devotional cast.
This not only ascertained the growth of his intel-
lectual powers, but gave satisfactory assurance to
his pious and affectionate parents, that even then
his young heart was forming a happy acquaintance
with divine things. As the higher branches of
knowledge allured him, he devoted himself anxious-
ly to their acquisition. He was cheerfully prepared
for every necessary exercise, and always inclined to
25*

302 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

exceed rather than fall short of his appointed task.
He complained of no difficulty, he wanted no help ;
he considered the little labors of every day as a rea-
sonable service, and readily on every occasion sub-
mitted his will to that of his father. During his
studies his sweet and placid disposition was con-
stantly displaying itself. While a child he had be-
come familiarly acquainted with the rudiments of
the Latin tongue, ;uid by many fair words persuaded
his nurse (a very worthy young woman who attend-
ed him from his infancy) to become his scholar.
Such pleasure did he derive from his studies, that
he left no means untried to engage her attention,
and would often set before her the honorable dis-
tinction of excelling in knowledge all the young
women in her parish. He drew up for her an
abridgment of his Grammar, to which he added a
short vocabulary ; and was never without a few
slips of paper in his pocket on which was some
noun regularly declined, for her benefit. If the
day had failed to afford her sufficient time to attend
his lessons, he redoubled his assiduity when she
conducted him ty his chamber at night, and was
never contented without hearing her repeat the
Lord's prayer in Greek. This, while it exemplified
the sweetness of his temper, showed that he loved
those parts of learning which young students are
apt to think tedious and disgusting, and that his mind
had early put away childish things.

While he was thus anxiously pursuing improve-
ment, his father showed him one evening a treatise on
Arithmetic, resolving to observe how it might suit
his inclinations. He went immediately to work on
this untried ground, and so great was his satisfac-

JOSHUA ROW LET GILPIN. 303

lion that he begged that he might he allowed to have
the same exercise again, whenever he should feel at
a loss for amusement. For three weeks it formed
part of his evening entertainment, and in that short
space he became so expert an arithmetician as to
consider the extraction of the square or cube rooU
nothing but mere diversion. His father now thought
fit to withdraw him from the science of numbers,
lest it should interfere too much with his classical
studies ; yet he still continued to surprise him with
his abstruse numerical speculations. And when
allerwards he was suflered to pursue Mathematics,
Algebra and Geometry, he acquired without the help
of a master, surprising proficiency in those sciences.
The difiicult problems of Euclid aflTorded him the
highest delight ; he would willingly have employed
his days and nights with them, and no youth was
ever more entertained with perusing a fairy tale,
than he with solving, applying and repeating every
proposition in its order.

Under the tuition of his father, he went regularly
through the authors which are used in public semi-
naries, and that with a degree of attention very un-
usual in those places. His memory was so durably
retentive, that what he once read he never forgot,
and could always repeat, or turn to any required
passage, whether found in the writings of poets,
historians, or divines. His accuracy was admira-
ble; he was penetrating to discover errors, and
careful to avoid them. lie would never pass over
a sentence till he had obtained a satisfactory view of
its meaning ; or lay aside an author till he had
formed a critical acquaintance both with his style
and sentiments. In diligence he was never exceed-

304 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

ed ; employment was the delight of his life, and
whatsoever his hand found to do, he did it with his
might. His soul thirsted for knowledge, and no
occasional difficulty could abate its desire or retard
its progress. In cases of perplexity, so far was he
from soliciting assistance, that he modestly declined
it when offered, and through the whole course of
his studies, it was never necessary to stimulate his
progress.

His love of order was not less singular than his
diligence. From his earliest childhood he discov-
ered an uncommon attention to method in all his
little undertakings, and this disposition gradually
acquired strength, as he became better acquainted
with the importance of time. To his labors and
recreations he assigned their proper place and sea-
son, contriving to till up the day with an agreeable
variety, preserving himself on the one hand from
listlessness and aj)athy, on the other from perplexity
and precipitation. Ilad he foreseen the predeter-
mined limits of his short life he could not have or-
dered it more wisely or happily for himself, or for
his parents, since every period of it was marked
with punctuality and enjoyment, industry and ease,
moderation and composure. A clear and acute
understanding might with propriety be called his
distinguishing faculty, for he possessed it in an un-
common degree of perfection. It was not his cus-
tom to glide smoothly over the surface of things ;
nor had he any taste for that light kind of reading
which so generally attracts the minds of young
people. He dehghted in mose exercises of the
mind which they usually consider laborious ; having
once fixed his attention upon a subject, nothing

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 305

could allure him from it until he had searched it
thoroughly ; and to deal with some subtle questions,
or try his strength on some difficult point, afforded
him the highest gratification.

The attention of his parents was not however
confined to his literary attainments ; but it was their
endeavor and prayer that he might blend with it, the
wisdom that is from above. They were anxious
that he should not be unfurnished for the regular
and honorable discharge of his duties in the present
world, but were still more solicitous to educate him
as a candidate for glory, honor and immortality,
in the world to come. Feeling as if a failure in
this would have blasted all their fondest hopes, they
began this important work at a very early age, with
the greatest simplicity, condescension and caution,
lest they should produce disgust, where they wished
to excite desire. From the beauties of Creation
they tenderly led his mind to the wonders of Provi-
dence ; from the goodness of God to the unwor-
thiness of man ; from the depravity of human na-
ture to the redemption that is in Christ Jesus ; from
this transient state of being to that eternal world,
in which imperfection and infelicity shall have no
place. They accompanied these discourses with
none of that formality and rigor which some falsely
attach to religion. — " I will show you, my dear son,"
said his father, with a smiling countenance, " a way
that will lead you from earth to heaven." His gen-
tle pupil listened with eager attention, and the in-
stniction was crowned with more than ordinary
success. His mmd seemed to be solemnized, yet
filled with every joyful and grateful sensation, and
like the child Samuel he was early awakened and

306 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

purified. At his first introduction to the house of
God, which took place at a very early age, he dis-
covered such a degree of reverential awe as had
scarcely ever been witnessed before ; and ever af-
ter in his stated appearance there, whether he lis-
tened to the sacred word, or bowed before the altar,
his whole carriage was marked with the most unaf-
fected decorum and piety. Oh! think not, my
dear young friends, that he then embraced anything
gloomy, rigorous, or unnecessary ; he made choice
of what was to increase his talents, to refine his en-
joyments, to fortify his mind against -the allurements
and sorrows of time, and to prepare his soul to re-
turn to the hand of its Maker, after a short and hap-
py visit to mortality.

I borrow the words of his father to describe to
you the happy manner in which their Sabbaths were
mutually spent. " Unrestrained by the presence of
witnesses, we gave on that day an unlimited indul-
gence to our atfectionate and devotional feelings.
We conversed as parts of the same family ; we
congratulated each other as members of the Christian
church ; we rejoiced over one another as heirs of
the same glorious promises. Some interesting
passage of Scripture, or some choice piece of divi-
nity, generally fiirnished the matter of our discourse,
and while we endeavored to obtain a clear and
comprehensive view of the subject before us, a
divine light would sometimes break in upon us,
satisfying our doubts, exalting our conceptions, and
cheering our hearts. We have then with one con-
sent laid aside our book that we might uninterruptedly
admiro the beauties, and enjoy the sweets of the open-
ing prospect. While thus solacing ourselves with a

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 307

view of our future onjoymcnts, and the place of our
final destination, we have solemnly renewed our
vows, resolving, for the joy that was set before us, to
endure the cross, despising the shame, in humble
imitation of our adorable Master. In such a frame
of mind we found it possible to speak of probable
sufferings, and painful separations, with the utmost
composure. And with such a termination of our
course in sight, we could cheerfully leave all the
casualties of that course to the Divine disposal ;
fully persuaded that whatever evd might befal us by
the way, an abundant compensation would be mado
for all on our su-riviil at home."

The sedentary habits, and intense application of
the young student, it was feared by his father would
injure the delicacy of his health, and he endeavored
to draw him more fre(iucntly from his beloved books.
But his inclinations led him so strongly to such
pursuits, that the amusements and recreations of
youth had for him no charm, and he would silently
retire from them to seclude himself in his study.
His parents still trembhng at the feebleness and
delicacy of his appearance, were advised to place
him in a public school, where perhaps the novelty
of the scene might for awhile divert his mind from
too intense study, and more atliletic exercises
strengthen the fibres of his frame.

They acquiesced in the propriety of this advice,
but the idea of parting was so insupportable, that
they removed their family to Newport, and placed
him at the excellent seminary of the Rev. Joseph
Scott. Here he was introduced to a scene replete
with novelty ; ho had often heard of a school, but
had never seen one, and great was his astonishiuent

308 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

to find idleness, irregularity and ignorance, where
he expected only to find industry, order and intelli-
gence. The customary exercises of the academy
were performed by him with such perfect ease, that
his attendance was required scarcely five hours in
the day, " and thus," says his affectionate father,
*' we were allowed to spend the greatest part of our
time together. Twice in the day we parted, not
without a momentary feeling of regret, and twice
we met each other with unfeigned pleasure, as
dearest friends are accustomed to meet after a
tedious separation.

Though he had many seniors among his com-
panions he rapidly rose to the highest seat in the
school, a place of which he was by no means
ambitious, and which he occupied with the utmost
modesty and condescension. His affability and
gentleness conciliated the minds and repressed the
eiwy of his school-fellows, but between his habits
and theirs the difference was so great, that he could
form no familiar connection with any of them. In
the head master of this seminary he found an atten-
tive instiuctor, and a familiar iVicnd. I>y him the
young student's talents were di::itinguished with the
strongest marks of esteem, and he never spoke of
hun but in the must endearing terms, calling him
" the pride of his school and the jtriJe of his
heart."

The return of this amiable family to then- beloved
village was a time of unspeakable enjoyment.
Their allectionate people wailed to welcome them ; —
the sight of their habitation renewed (he memory of
former joy.s, and he on wliose accotuit they had
departed, gazed witli unutterubl*. emotion on the

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 309

spot of his nativity. Its trees, its cottages, the very
rock on which it stood, were associated with the
recollection of unininglcd enjoyments ; every room
in his dwelling, every shrub in his garden, every
field in his extensive prospect ; even the distant
hills behind which he had been accustomed to watch
the setting sun, seemed to say — welcome — welcome
to the youth who from more splendid scenes — scenes
where he has been honored and caressed, returns
■cheerfully to us.

" How promising are your prospects in life," said
^ friend, " how reasonably may you look forward to
ihe most satisfactory events." But with ineffable
modesty and sweetness he answered, " I look for-
ward to no future event whatever with any degree of
•desire, perfectly assured that no possible change in
my aftairs can make any addition to my present hap-
piness." Not even the gaieties and amusements of
London could iifi'ect the inclinations of this incom-
parable youth, who after spending two months there,
at the giddy age of 16, returned to his native vil-
lage with the same delight — the same unassuming
manners — the same purity of taste. As they en-
tered the secluded spot where all their real enjoy-
ments centered, he presented his father with a copy
of Latin verses, expressive of his feelings, which at
the request ol' his mother weie thus triuislated.

" Livis llicrf a yoiitli wlio far from homo
Tliroii^'li novel scenes exults to roam I
Tlien let tlie restless vuunml go
And iilly pass from show to show ;
NVliile ill my native villiigo blest,
Deli<!;liicd still, and still al rest,
Without disturbance or alloy,
Life's purest pleasuresi I enjoy "
2G

310 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

Every spot to this amiable youth was sweet, be-
cause he bore in his bosom the source of all true
pleasure — unaftected goodness — active virtue — and
an hope of the favor of Gcd. But while he was
rapidly preparing for the sacred employment to which
he was destined, increasing in wisdom and stature,
and in favor with God and man, a secret arrow
from an unerring hand pierced him, commissioned
to wound, and eventually to destroy. In the month
of April, 1804, he was suddenly attacked by a dis-
charge of blood from the lungs, which was repeated
until he was reduced to a surprising degree of de-
bility. " We considered this," writes his father, " as
a solemn warning from above ; and while we dis-
covered in it the absolute uncertainty of our dearest
earthly enjoyments, we earnestly prayed for a grow-
ing submission to the divine will.

In the mean time it afforded us unspeakable com-
fort to mark the composure of our suffering child,
who ' as a sheep before his shearers opened not
his mouth, neither despised the chastening of the
Lord, or fainted under his rebuke,' but lying as
clay in the hand of the potter, meekly submitted
himself to the disposal of a fiiithful Creator." But
the medicines prescribed seemed to have a benefi-
cial effect upon him, and a journey through a beau-
tiful part of Wales, and several weeks residence
among its delightful scenes, together with the purity
of its air, and tlie mild salubrity of the season, seem-
ed to restore again the health of the beloved object.
As they returned home with the reviNing invalid, all
Nature appeared to them particijumt in their joy ; —
to use the animated language of his father, " the
mountains and hills seemed around us to break forth

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 311

into singing, and all the trees of the field to clap
their hands. We renewed our vows at every stage,
we freely indulged our grateful feelings at home,
where we reared an altar to the God of all comfort,
who had been mindful of us in our low estate, gra-
ciously prospered our way, and brought us again in
peace to our own habitation."

During this interval of returning vigor, he formed
many plans of improvement, and acquired much
useful information. He was incessantly occupied,
and all his occupations invariably tended either to
increase his own knowledge, or to advance the hap-
piness of his family. Through a great part of the
day he was a silent and separate student ; at stated
periods he related to his father what he had explor-
ed alone ; and occasionally associated with both
his parents with the most marked satisfaction, and
cheerful discourse. Their evenings were spent in
the reciprocal enjoyment of the highest domestic
pleasures. Their customary exercises began with
music, sometimes of the most delicate and compli-
cated kind ; were continued with reading and con-
versing alternately on the best works, historical or
poetical, philosophical, moral or religious ; and clo-
sed with the lifting up of the heart and voice in
grateful prayer to the bountiful Giver of all good.

In May he again resumed his studies at Newport,
where he continued till the midsummer vacation,
and then went on a pleasing journey with his pa-
rents. Immediately after his return ho was sum-
moned to Newport as a candidate for two vacant
exhibitions. When he appeared at his public ex-
aminatioD, and took his seat before the tutors of the
college, the magistrates, clergy and visitors assem-

312 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

bled, a degree of modest diffidence was visible in
him, which is often connected with real genius.
But in his appointed exercises he was so ready, so
correct, so perfect, that the whole concourse were
ready to applaud him with one voice, his parents
were loaded with congratulations for having such a
son, and a paper signed by all present, was presented
to the managers of the school funds, requesting
that the usual sum presented to the candidate might
be doubled on account of his extraordinary attain-
ments. Yet so meekly did he bear this full tide of
honor, that he manifested not the least satisfaction in
hearing his own praises, and after his return home
never made the most distant allusion to these flat-
tering events. It was now concluded that he should
become a student at Oxford, and in October, 1805,
he was entered a fellow commoner at Christ Church
College, not intending to take his residence there till
the commencement of the following term.

The prospect of separation, and the dangerous
examples to which he must necessarily be. exposed,
gave pain to the hearts of his parents, but his early
and growing piety, his extreme temperance and
modesty, his intense application to study, added to
a certain firmness of mind, of which he had given
indisputable evidences, gave them the strongest
ground of hope, that he would in every situation
refuse the evil, and choose the good. His classical
and mathematical studies now employed almost the
whole of his time, and so assiduously did he devote
himself to these pursuits, that he was regularly the
first of the family to leave his chamber, even during
the severest part of the season. The day was too
short for his active mind ; and^had he been allowed,

JOBHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 313

he would willingly have added to its length by
contracting the night, which he was inclined to
consider as a great interruption to his progress in
knowledge. It was evident that he desired know-
ledge for her own sake, and not on account of those
flattering distinctions which she sometimes gains
among men. He discovered none of that self
complacency which is so disgustingly manifest in the
deportment of many young scholars, nor did he
ever betray the least desire to outshine an inferior.
On the contrary, in every company, and on all
occasions he manifested an extraordinary degree of
meekness, doing nothing through strife or vain glory,
but in lowliness of mind esteeming others better
than himself. Both at home and abroad he appeared
as a peaceable student in the school of Christ, and as
one who possessed that heavenly disposition which
" envieth not — vaunteth not itself — is not puifed up
— doth not behave unseemly — sceketh not its
own."

It had been the custom of this happy family to
notice the birth-day of their beloved son, not with
sumptuous entertainments or extravagant gaiety,
but with the most affectionate congratulations among
themselves, and the most ardent ascriptions of
gratitude to God. In this manner, his eighteenth
birth-day was spent, but amidst its pure and hallowed
pleasures, little did they expect it was the last they
were ever to commemorate. His mother brought
forward many affecting quotations from the authors
with which she was daily conversant, to remind the
objects of her aflcction of their past blessings, and
to cheer them with the prospect of future comforts :
26*

314 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

and his father presented him with the following
pleasing effusion.

The Birth Daxj Wish. Jan. 30, 1806.

"May all thy years serenely flow,
Nor charjj'd with care, nor mix'd with wo !
And still as this lov'd day returns,
While thy srlad heart within thee burns,
May gratitude prepare the feast,
And hope be there a smiling guest ;
Nor rosy health, nor spriglitly joy
Refuse to wait upon my boy."

" Ah!" — writes his father, " could I have foreseen
that my son's next claim upon his father's pen would
be — not for a birth-day tribute, but for a monumental
inscription, — what a season of bitterness would this
have been." — As they were thus sweetly passing
the hours of his last natal day, a servant arrived
about noon, with a letter addressed to him, containing
bank-bills to a considerable amoimt, with a request
that he would receive them as a joint token of the
affection of a few of his friends, who wished annu-
ally to repeat the same expression of their regard
till he should take his first degree. This unexpected
proof of the estimation in which he was held, was
received by the object of it \vith the strongest indi-
cations of astonishment and gratitude.

Preparations for his removal to the university
were now occasionally made. " For eighteen years,"
says his father, " we had been inseparable compan-
ions, and now while various preparations for his de-
parture were making before our eyes, we were often
ready to address each other in the passionate lan-
guage of Ruth, ' Entreat me not to leave thee ; for

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 315

'whither thou gocst, I will go ; — and where thou
lodgcst, I will lodge,' not knowing the appointment
of God, that nothing but death should part us."
The approaching spring, the wound in his vitals,
which they had vainly hoped was healed, began to
break out, and bleed afresh, and the influenza, which
was then epidemical, seizing upon his feeble frame,
fixed there an incurable malady, which no power of
medicine could alleviate or remove. The sudden
and painful changes of his state he met with a smile
of cheerful submission ; no murmuring word was
■ever heard to fall from his Ups ; no trace of chagrin
or anxiety was at any time visible on his counte-
nance. Neither loss of appetite, or decay of strength,
neither languid days or restless nights, could break
the settled composure of his mind ; and so admira-
ble was the mixture of meekness and manliness dis-
coverable in him, that it was not easy to say, wheth-
er his patience or fortitude \j'as carried to the great-
est extent

He constantly aspired to the knowledge of divine
things, raising his thoughts to the contemplation of
God, and regularly advancing his preparation for
that eternal world, to which he was making so spee-
dy an approach. The affecting language of his fa-
ther conveys a striking description of the close of
his short and excellent life. " We saw the stroke
descending," he writes, " which was to dissolve an
union from which we had derived an unbroken suc-
cession of delights ; and we could not but tremble
as it approached. But in the midst of our trem-
blings we presumed only to implore that its violence
might be soflened to all the suffering parties. This
earnest prayer was offered without ceasing, and it

316 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

found acceptance with God. He knew the feeble-
ness of our hearts, and gave charge concerning us
from his holy heavens. His purpose was indeed
unaherable, but it was executed with fatherly com-
passion.

No terrific messenger was sent to force away our
darling child ; but angels came on that commission ;
neither wind, nor earthquake, nor fire, were allowed
to disturb us with their tremendous exhibitions, but
throughout all the mitigated visitations, a slill, small
voice, was heard, proclaiming peace before us. Af-
ter having been a constant and conscientious atten-
dant on the public ordinances of grace for many
years, his Salibaths were now past in a state of com-
parative sohtude, for so solicitous was he to preserve
the order of the day, that he would never once per-
mit his mother to be detained from church on his
account. While we went up to the holy temple,
and presented our supplications, on the footstool of
the Judge of all the earth, he meekly presented him-
self in secret before the Father of spirits, in whose
sight places and forms are inconsiderable things. —
When the bells called us away, he seemed for a mo-
ment to lament those growing infirmities which
would not allow him to obey so joyful a summons ;
nor did he salute us with less satisfaction at our re-
turn, when he found a sacred entertainment in learn-
ing the subject that had employed our attention.
The concluding part of these holy days was spent
in our customary manner, and never was he dis(jua-
lified for taking a cheerful share in our acts of social
worship.

These opportunities had been always accompa-
nied with peculiar satisfaction ; our Sabbath suns

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 317

stiil continued to go down with a glorious radiance,
gilfling even our most gloomy prospects, and giving
us the promise of an everlasting day. As he ap-
proached the end of his course, he withdrew himself
from every pursuit that might divert his tlioughts
from the great end of his being. The poets, and
orators of Greece and Rome, were exchanged for
the works of experimental religion, and he sat daily
at the feet of some master in Israel, from whose pi-
ety and experience he hoped to gain an increase of
divine wisdom. The practical writings of Mr. Law
were frequently in his hands ; these he had advan-
tageously perused in the days of health, but at this
season he studied them with the deepest attention,
pausing long on every striking passage, and fre-
quently making the most solemn remarks. He then
proceeded to the writings of AUeine, a celebrated
non-conformist, and a little volume of his was regu-
larly laying before him, from his rising to his retir-
ing hour, and if at any time he visited the garden to
enjoy the cheering beams of the sun, the evangeli-
cal Allcine, as he termed him, was his companion
there.

By the advice of many who anxiously sought our
relief, we once more changed tlie scene, for a short
time. But wherever we journeyed, he was still
making his passage through the valley of the sha-
dow of death. Through this dark and solitary re-
gion, every man must pass : but the passage admits
of a wonderful variety. Some are hurried down
this valley with a rapidity, which will not allow them
to mark its terrific furniture ; — while others are led
through it with slow and solemn steps. Multitudes
tread this road under the torpors of a stupid insen-

318 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

sibility ; and many rush along it, under the turbu-
lence of a raving delirium. Some few favored in-
dividuals are allowed to pass in a state of complete
recollection and composure, and sometimes an ex-
traordinary personage is carried through it in a kind
of holy triumph. Our dear son, went down into
this desolate valley without disquietude, and walked
deliberately through it without apprehension. We
attended his steps from the beginning to the end of
his painful journey : without ever withdrawing our-
selves from his side, we observed the changes that
took place at every stage, we marked every turn of
his countenance, we caught every expression that
fell from his lips.

But while we were solicitous to sustain his weak-
ness, and to smooth his path, we found him in cir-
cumstances rather to afford than to require support.
An invisible arm sustained his soul, and supplied his
wants. He neither felt distress, or feared evil ; for
God was with him, even he " who giveth songs in
the night, and turneth the shadows of death into the
morning." Though he was fully sensible whither
his steps were tending, ho went cheerfully forwards,
neither hinting at the uneasiness of the way or cast-
ing one wishful glance behind. His faith and pa-
tience unweariedly performed their proper work,
this alleviating present pressures, and that unveiling
future glories. Neither inward decays, nor outward
accidents, could interrupt the regular exercise of
these graces ; and under their prevailing influence
he meekly triumphed over all opposition. " This
was the Lord's doing, and it was marvellous in our
eyes." We were now strongly urged to visit the
Hot Wells at Bristol, as the last hope of succeed.

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 319

This proposal was at first, mildly resisted by our
dear son, who, fully persuaded of the nature of his
case, foresaw that the experiment would occasion
needless trouble, and terminate in sad disappoint-
ment. But perceiving our extreme anxiety on the
subject, he was unwiUing to crush all our expecta-
tions at once, by exposing the secrets of his hope-
less condition, and prepared for his departure with
apparent satisfaction. His cliief attention was
bestowed on those things which were to be left be-
hind, and which he seemed to regulate with extra-
ordinary exactness. We observed his provident
care with no small delight ; but between his thoughts
and ours, the difference was great indeed ; we fond-
ly imagined that his views were directed to an hap-
py return, while he was preparing for a final re-
moval.

On similar occasions he had generally required a
considerable package of books ; he now requested
only that an English Bible, and a Greek Testament
might not be forgotten, while he himself took charge
of Alleine's Alarm, the volume to which he had be-
come so much attached. On the morning of Au-
gust 27, 1806, we left our pleasant village, accom-
panied by the best wishes of our neighbors, many
of whom were standing to observe our departure,
and to look on that face which they were to behold
no more.

Our journey was completed without difficulty, and
after reposing ourselves under the hospitable roof of
our excellent friend, James Ireland, Esq. we re-
moved to our own apartments near the Wells, on the
first of September. The friendly visits of a gen-
tleman of great medical skill and practice, contri-

320 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

buted more than once to the temporary rehef of the
invalid, and were continued without intermission to
the day of our bereavement But the season of
our fellowship upon earth, was now drawing hastily
to a conclusion ; though the decays of nature pro-
ceeded by such insensible degrees, that the near
approach of our separation was less perceptible to
ourselves than to others. Our beloved companion
still rose and dressed as usual, sat with us through
the day, and derived satisfaction from every thing
around him. He regularly partook of our meals»
and conversed with his ordinary animation ; cau-
tiously concealing from us those formidable symp-
toms, which were every day increasing upon him..
If at any time we lamented the diminution of hi*
appetite, he would encourage us by commending
the provision that was made for him, or if upon any
sudden change of attitude we expressed our fears
that he was in a state of suffering, he would ac-
knowledge with a smile the perception of some un-
easiness, but assured us that it amounted not to
pain. In the mean time his pure soul had disengag-
ed itself from temporal hopes and fears, and was
silently preparing to leave mortality behind. The
land of promise was ever in his view^ and he waited
only the welcome signal to arise and take possession
of his heavenly inheritance. Under the divine ben-
ediction and guidance he had passed through the
world uncontaminated with its pollutions, and unin-
fluenced by its maxims. His whole 'path had been
privileged beyond the common lot of man — he had
borne no burden — he had seen no sorrow — he had
felt no distressing solicitude. And now, at the con-
clusion of his transient course, he looked like some

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 321

superior being, who having alighted on earth for the
performance of an hasty commission, was again
stretching his wings for an homeward flight.

At length the day arrived, which we had so long
dreaded, and for the approach of which we were
still so little prejwired. On the morning of Tues-
day, September 9th, we walked into his chamber, as
he was rising, and were received as usual with an
affectionate smile. He answered our inquiries
with all the calmness, and caution imaginable^ but
there was an appearance of languor and debihty
about him, which could not be concealed. He
presented himself at breakfast with an air of satis-
faction, and joined in our morning devotions with
all his usual composure. Had the weather permit-
ted he was to have spent an hour abroad, but as it
proved unfavorable he sweetly appUed himself to
that little volume, which was always within reach>
and seldom out of his h^d.

His ordinary gentleness was exemplary ; but
through the whole of his deportment on this day,
there was a lamb-iike patience which filled us with
admiration, though it was observed that his respi-
ration was surprisingly quickened by the slightest
exertion, and that be was unable to converse with-
out frequent pauses. He sat down to our dinner
with a tolerable degree of appetite, and appeared at
the close of it to be somewhat refreshed. After
this meal, it was customary with him to slumber for
an hour in his chair, while we silently watched his
repose, and sent up our supplications to heaven in
his behalf. We were thus watching near him, when
he suddenly turned upon us an expressive look^
which seemed intended to bespeak our attention.
27

822 BlOGliAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

He had long desired to make us acquainted with
several interesting particulars, concerning the state
of his mind ; but perceiving our inability to bear
any such communications, he had reluctantly for-
borne to open his heart. Nor had we suffered less
uneasiness on our part ; having many things to say,
and yet fearing lest our awakened feelings should
break the settled tranquillity of his soul, and hurry
us away into an agony of distress. As it was with
£lijah and his attached successor on their approach-
ing separation, so it was with us. They maintain-
ed a delicate reserve towards each other, while they
proceeded from Bethel to Jericho, and from Jericho
to Jordan, the one not daring to glory in his expect-
ed ascension, nor the other to express his sorrowful
forebodings, lest they should mutually agitate one
another, and disturb the order of the approaching
solemnity. But as the awful moment drew near,
and he was about to be gone, Elijah rose above the
weakness of humanity, and openly asserted the pur-
pose of heaven. So when our dear son was made
sensible by some internal and infallible token, that
his hour was at hand, he thought it unsuitable to
our common character, that he should leave the
world without giving glory to God. Under this im-
pression he expressed himself with all his wonted
calmness and deliberation, to the following purpose.

" I have long known my disease to be a danger-
ous one ; and now I perceive the danger to be very
great : — but I am resigned. I have daily hesitated
to make you acquainted with my real state, lest T
should add to the sufferings which I have already
brought upon yon. But as we must all die, T think
if unhappy when a man is approaching death, that

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 323

either he or his friends should fear to make it the
subject of their conversation. To meditate and
speak upon death, is a part of our duty even in the
days of heaUh. You have otten led me to this se-
rious duty in seasons that are past ; and it becomes
us not to shrink from it now.

" I see nothing in this state worth hving for ; the
whole world is replete with vanity, and 1 esteem it
happy to be removed out of it at an early period of
life. Much of my time has been spent in the study
of one or two languages, to which we are apt to at-
tach an high degree of importance — (then turning a
pleasant look upon his mother, he added) — but in
heaven that labor will be known no more ; for there,
as Buuyan observes, they all speak the language of
Canaan. Human studies and pursuits, are gener-
ally of a trifling kind, and not such as we are likely
to cultivate and perfect in the future world. When
I look back upon my past life, I see nothing in it but
what is sinful, and it seems almost incredible to me
that a dying man should ever speak of himself as a
harmless and innocent creature ; though I have
heard that this is sometimes the case.

If such a case is really possible, it must surely be
one of the most discouraging that can fall under the
notice of a pious minister. I know myself to be a
sinner — and I have not been, even to you, what you
had reason to expect." Hitherto we had permitted
our beloved one to proceed without interruption,
imposing upon ourselves a restraint which could
scarcely be maintained from one sentence to anoth-
er. But at this last distressing word, wo fell upon
his neck and kissed him, with passionate assuran-
ces that he bad been better to us than all our bopee^

324 BioonAPHY OF nous persons.

and that we had known nothing but pleasure hi his
society.

Till this moment he preserved his characteristic
serenity ; but now his tears flowed apace, his burst-
ing sobs could be no longer suppressed, and his
whole feeble frame was shaken \vith the tendcrest
emotions. This part of the scene was too distres-
sing to be either endured or described, and it was
happy that his mother could so far prcvEiil, by her
affectionate entreaties, as to assuage the anguish of
our hearts. In a short time he wiped away the
last tears he was ever to shed : and assuming his
former composure, thus continued his discourse.
*' My complaint has been of long continuance ;
but I have reason to be thankful that it has not sub-
jected me to acute pains ; for under a state of
bodily torture, it must be diflicult to preserve the
mind from distraction ; — I owe it to the goodness
of God that I have been permitted the free use of
my thoughts through the whole of my sickness,
and I rejoice especially in this, that they have been
directed to subjects of inestimable worth. When
I first took up Alleine's Alarm, 1 feared to find up-
on myself the marks of the unconverted. But
though I was once under the dominion of some of
those sins, which are there enumerated, Alleine has
taught me both the need and advantage of a Sa-
viour, and I am freed from their bondage." After
a pause of some length he turned to me with the
following affecting question; ^* Father, what is
your opinion respecting the circumstances of the
soul, immediately on its quitting the body? Do you
suppose it instantly to pass into the presence of
God ? or do you imagine it to be detained for an

JOSHUA ROWLEV GILPIN. 325

uncertain space in some separate and inferior state."
I answered with confidence, " The passage of the
righteous soul from earth to heaven is assuredly
instintaneous." " That," replied he, " is my opin-
ion, for doubtless those words of our Lord concern-
ing Lazarus may be depended on — Lazarus was
carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom."

Thus closed a discourse which can never be eras-
ed from our remembrance, and which constrained
me at the time to offer my humble acknowledgments
to that God who had conferred upon our dear son
the highest honors that a father could solicit for his
child. After reposing himself for a short space
upon the sofa, while we were endeavoring to recover
our spirits from the agitation into which they had
been hurried, he attended us at the tea table;
where we had scarcely taken our seats when our
dear friend, Mr. Ireland, was introduced, in com-
pany with an amiable lady who had interested her-
self much in oiu* affairs. Mr. Ireland seated him-
self close by the side of our dear son, and inquired
very minutely into the state of his health, examining
him vnth a fixed observance, and counting his pulse
with the nicest exactness. These were his usual
attentions to the beloved sufferer, as often as they
met ; and they were returned at this solemn season
with the most unaffected appearances of sensibility
and res[)ect. The conversation which took place
was perfectly suited to our situation, and calculated
to fix our thoughts upon the Great Disposer of all
our concerns. Had they witnessed all the circum-
stances of the past day, and foreseen all the events
of the approaching night, our Christian visitants
could not have assumed a deportment more com-
27*

326 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

pletely adapted to the occasion. There was an
inexpressible something., which made the whole of
this interview peculiarly serious and impressive to
us all ; and at the conclusion of it, Mr. Ireland
secretly expressed his amazement at the invariable
composure of our son, while his pulse was running
on with an incalcidable rapidity. The evening was
devoted partly to his favorite writer, and partly to
silent meditation. But however he was engaged,
the happy frame of his mind was easily discernible,
through his tranquil countenance; and we were
unwilling to disturb the profitable employment of
his thougbts.

By the vigor and activity of his soul he rose
above those bodily languors, which many a sufferer
would havecounted insupportable; nor would he have
once noticed his weakness, except in answer to our
importunate inquiries. Constrained by these im-
portunities, he ackowledged himself reduced to a
degree of debility, of which he had formerly supposed
human nature to be utterly incapable ; yet this he
mentioned rather as a matter of surprise, than a
cause of complaint. His views had taken another
direction, and had he found us of a temper sufficient-
ly firm, there is reason to believe that he would
have added something to his former communication.
But after the painful experiment already made, he
thoughtit advisable rather to restrain his own feelings,
than to run the hazard of again excruciating ours.
He was climbing the heights of Pisgah, while we were
lingering below in the valley of tears. The distance
between us was every moment increasing ; and
though this was mutually marked, and mutually
lamented, he dared not venture a descent to us, nor

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 327

had we power to rise with him. Our different
circumstances prevented, in some measure, our
familiar intercourse. Nevertheless, through the
dark cloud of our sorrow we saw him borne to a
commanding station ; from whence, had we been
able to reach his elevated ground, he would have
pointed us to all the dazzling glories of em unknown
world.

It was now our evening hour of prayer ; and we
engaged for the last time, in a solemn act of family
worship. Never before was this sacred exercise
performed with so much reverence and fervor : and
though it could not be performed without a struggle,
yet our supplications and our praises ascended to-
gether. Many affecting considerations operated
at this time upon our susceptible hearts : a deep
conviction o£ human frailty; a strong perception
of our dependance upon God ; a thankful remem-
brance of past mercies ; a soothing sense of pres-
ent support ; an enlarged view of the redemption
that is in Christ Jesus ; and an enlivening hope of
future blessedness ; — all united to quicken our de-
votions at this awful period, humbling, melting and
animating us by turns, beyond all possibility of de-
scription. Afler a short and peaceful interval, we
invited him again to our frugal board, which was
purposely furnished with food of the most restora-
tive kind. He accepted the invitation with his usu-
al affability, and gratified us by partaking of our re-
|)ast, with an unexpected degree of freedom and
cheerfulness. He could not refuse to sit at our
table ; though he was constrained to eat and drink
with us in the manner of Israel, at their last supper
in Egypt, his loins were girded, his shoes on his

328 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

feet, his staff in his hand, and all things prepared for
an immediate removal.

The last messengers were even now in waiting to
conduct him away, and in this state he received our
anxious attentions with a most engaging sweetness,
frequently looking upon us with expressions of great
tenderness, and benignity, neither wholly restraining
his feelings nor yet allowing them too large an indul-
gence. Though his words were few, yet they were
most consolatory ; and his smiles had still so en-
livening an influence upon us, that we were almost
ready to interpret them into promises of a prolong-
ed existence upon earth, when they were only the
glances of a happy departing spirit. The same ex-
quisite sense of propriety and decorum, which had
distinguished him in the days of health and enjoy-
ment, was exhibited through the whole of his de-
portment under sickness and suffering, and continu-
ed, without any abatement, to the last moment of
his life. His actions, his words, his looks, were
all governed by the strictest rules of consistency
and moderation. He calmly accommodated him-
self to the varying exigencies of his state, main-
taining a lovely sedatcness through all the trying
changes to M'hich he was exposed, and regularly
manifesting such an equability of soul, as the ma-
turest Christian would wish to experience in his
passage through the chambers of death. ' Let me
die the death of my submissive son, and let my last
end be like his.'

The volume of truth was lying open before me,
and as I turned over its sacred pjiges my attention
was powerfully called to a portion of the revelation
of St. John. I perused in silence, the seventh

SOSaVA ROWLEY GILPIN. 329

chapter of that mysterious book ; and finding it par-
ticularly adapted to my present feelings, I repeated
the concluding part of it to uiy listening compan-
ions. " These are they who came out of great
tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made
them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore
sire they before the throne of God, and serve him
<ilay and night in his temple, and he that sitteth on
the throne shall dwell among them. They shall
hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither
shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the
Lamb which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed
them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of
waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their
eyes." This sublime passage produced upon our
spirits a sort of electric effect, while it ofiered us
the last delightful prospect in which we were allow-
ed to participate below. We closed the book, and
gazed upon each other in an holy extacy ; succes-
sively attempting to express what could not possibly
be uttered. Heaven itself lay open before us ; the an-
gels, the elders, the spirits of just men made per-
fect, were exhiljited to us, and their song of ado-
ration seemed to come pouring upon our cars, as
we found ourselves involuntarily rising from our
seats to ascribe with them " blessing and honor, and
glory, and power, unto Him that sitteth upon the
throne, and unto the Lamb forever and ever." It
was now remarked that we had sat up to a later
hour thao usual ; when our dear son replied uiat he
was perfectly ready to retire, whenever we should
think proper.

Orders were therefore instantly given for the
necessary preparations to be made, and we conduct-

330 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

cd him to his room ; where he requested to be left
alone, for a quarter of an hour, which we soon un-
derstood to proceed from his desire of enjoying a
season of secret and unreserved communication
with God. On our return, we found him preparing
to lie down, and offered our assistance, but without
accepting it, he placed himself very composedly in
his bed, and in the same posture which had pleased
him from his infancy. After the interchange of a
few affectionate expressions, he seemed disposed to
slumber, and lest our presence should interrupt his
repose, we left him to the care of his watchful
nurse, and quietly withdrew to our own apartment.
There we passed more than an hour, in a state of
fearful suspense, feebly endeavoring to stay our
souls upon God, and anxiously listening to every
distant sound ; yet not without a hope that the
night would prove a season of comfortable refresh-
ment to our beloved son. At length he was heard
to cough ; and his distressed mother went immedi-
ately down to visit him. After a few minutes ab-
sence, she appeared again inviting me to follow her ;
her voice was scarcely audible, yet it sounded like
the midnight cry in the gospel, " Behold the bride-
groom cometh," — and I hastened to embrace my
Joshua before he should go forth to meet his Lord.
I found him patiently sinking under the last efforts
of his disease, with a countenance full of tranquilli-
ty, and sweetness. My approach produced in him
a sligKl emotion, — but he had proceeded too far to
return. Not able to endure the thought that our in-
tercourse was wholly at an end, I joined my face to
his, softly inquiring by what means I might yet min-
ister to his comfort. He understood my feelings,

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 331

nnA sought to repress them ; — replying to my in-
quiry with a gentle request that I would cease to
speak. After hanging over him for a few minutes
in unutterable distress, I involuntarily repeated my
question, when in a tone of tender affection he re-
turned me the same answer, " Please twt to speak."
He had already opened a communication with the
celestial world, and fully surrendered himself into
the hands of his invisible attendants ; and in these
circumstances was unwilling to be recalled or inter-
rupted by any importunities from below. Wo re-
ceived his request as a sacred charge, and binding
ourselves to silence, kneeled about his bed in a state
of trembling expectation. A short and solemn pause
succeeded : when after a few soft groans, without
the slightest change of posture, he peacefully
breathed out his soul into the bosom of his Father
and our Father, his God and our God.

At this awful moment, all the opposition of our
will to the divine proceedings was totally subdued ;
and we sunk under an overwhelming sense of his
supremacy, whose judgments are unsearchable, and
whose ways are past finding out ; the mountains
flowed down at his presence ; and we laid our hand
upon our mouth before him. One desire alone pos-
sessed our hearts, and it was too eager at the time
to be restrained ; that we might be permitted to
follow our beloved, where mortalily shall be swal-
lowed up of life. I attempt not to relate how the
remaining part of the night was spent — but it was
a night much to be remembered for the pulling down
of all our temporal hopes, and the shutting up of all
onr worldly prospecfs, — if was a night, not 6( pain-
ful solicitude but of incurable sorrow, — a night of

332 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

intolerable bitterness, and a season of deep humilia-
tion before God. On the morrow our sympathizing
friends came to mourn with us, and to comfort us ;
and though no human consolation could avail much
in our case, yet were we sensibly touched with their
affectionate commiserations.

But in how many ways our inestimable friend,,
Mr. Ireland, was pleased to exercise towards us his
active benevolence, it would be difficult to enumer-
ate. He took upon himself the arrangement of the
mournful scene that was to follow, and at the day
appointed came with a select number of attendants
to convey the precious remains of our departed son
to his own sepulchre. Nor was he satisfied till he
had gathered us again Hnder his own roof; where
he adopted every means that humanity could devise,
for the mitigation of our growing anguish — allow-
ing us all the freedom that mourners could desire,
and daily watching for opportunities of doing us
good ; neither omitting to remind us of our past fe-
licity, nor refusing to mingle his tears m ith ours.

On the ensuing Sabbath a pathetic sermon was
delivered on the sad occurrence, and though we
exerted all the resolution we were capable of, to
attend the public worship on this solemn occasion,
all our efforts were not sufficient to save us from
sinking under the impression of a discourse so
appropriate and affecting. Our compassionate host
would gladly have detained us with him through the
approaching winter, conceiving that so complete a
change of scene and society, might produce some
desirable eflect upon our spirits. But affliction had
unfitted us for all human converse ; and after paying
a sorrowful visit to the tomb of our beloved Joshua,

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 333

we tore ourselves away from the place of his burial
to the place of his birth, that where our joys had
risen without limits, there our tears might flow
without restraint.

Many days have now passed since the separating
stroke was inflicted ; and though spring and summer,
autumn and winter, have maintained their regular
courses without interruption,, yet have we knovm
but one continued season of sadness and of sorrow.
Every thing around us has undergone a dismal
change, — the charm of life is efiectuaJly broken ; a
sable veil, never more to be removed, is cast over
all the pleasant appearances of nature ; our house
is become a solitude ; and the world presents us
with a dreary and desolate wilderness. But it af-
fords us consolation to reflect that we are passing
through this wilderness as strangers and sojourners ;
that we have already surmounted many of its difii-
culties, and shall shortly reach its utmost boundary.
Our best enjoyments are still at a distance ; and
though the remaining part of our way may proba-
bly be more distressing, yet it will assuredly be
much shorter than that which is past. Our dear
companion, it is true, has unexpectedly started from
our side, and gained the celestial country before us.
But we are hastily following after ; and a few more
laborious steps will restore him to our embraces,
where there shall be no more death, neither sorrow,
or crying.

In the meanwhile, such an affliction as ours
admits of no perfect remedy ; nor is it possible that
the days of our mourning should terminate on this
side the grave. Yet when we consider by whose
appointment this has befallen us, we silently submit
28

334 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS.

ourselves to his sovereign pleasure. lie hath an
undoubted right to do what he will with his own.
We are in his hands as clay in the hands of the
potter ; and to him only are known the methods by
which we may be finally wrought into vessels of
honor. If a sparrow cannot tall to the ground
without his notice ; if he condescends to number
even the hairs of our head, we may safely satisfy
ourselves, that he would not have permitted so
irreparable a calamity to overtake us, except for the
accomplishment of some truly important puiiiosc.
What that purpose may be, it is vain for us to
inquire ; but whether it be our preservation from
some formidable mischief, or our preparation for
some inestimable good, we devoutly pray that his
gracious design may be fully answered upon us.
It was the will of our adorable I^ord, that we should
be employed in training up an heir of salvation.
Such an appointment was both happy and honorable,
and it has occupied our most serious thoughts for
eighteen years together. During this memorable
interval, we have put forth many vigorous efforts,
and tasted many extraordinary consolations, in the
execution of our interesting commission. And
though our conduct has been defective in many
particulars, we know not, had wc our work to begin
anew, that we could adopt a more promising course
than that which we have industriously pursued,
which has been attended with such unexampled
felicity, and crowned with such complete success.
Our appointment is now withdrawn, our work is
done, and our finished pupil called away to the
court of his heavenly Father. ' The Lord gave.

JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 335

and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the
name of the Lord.'

The sacred volume exhibits man under the figure
of a flower.'*— All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness
thereof as the flower of the field. We have for-
merly admired the aptness of this figure ; now it
strikes us in a new and afibcting point of view.
The flowers of the field present us with a fascinating
spectacle ; they charm our eyes by the beauty of
their form^ the delicacy of their texture, the brilliancy
of their colors, and the fragrance of their perfume ;
they serve at once to enrich our grounds, to adorn
our houses, and to regale our senses ; but after all
the attention we can bestow upon them, their frailty
is proportionate to their loveliness. And such are
those most interesting pieces of human nature, the
children of a family. One of these fair flowers
was lately in our possession ; we saw it bud, — we
Matched its opening ; — we admired its rising excel-
lences ; and pleased ourselves with the hope that it
would flourish for years to come : — we fostered it
with care ; — we guarded it with vigilance, and
earnestly recommended it to the protection of Ilim,
who had formed and fashioned it with such inimitable
skill. But after all our unavailing solicitude, and
all our passionate supplications, we saw it languish,
and fade, and die ! Such was the Divine will
concerning us — and now, while we wander about the
place, of which this blooming plant was once the
choicest ornament, we endeavor to sooth our
aflliction with the consolatory assertion of the
|)rophct, ' the flower fadeth : but the word of our
Ciod shall stand forever.'"

To this exquisite picture of the sorrows of a
2S*

336 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS.

pious father, I add a sentence from his prefatory
address, in which he affectionately dedicates his
invaluable little work to the people of his pastoral
charge. *' The time is fast approaching when you
will see me borne to that grave, which is already
prepared to receive me. But long after my minis-
terial exercises shall have reached their finaJ period ;
and when you, my brethren, shall be sleeping around
me in the dust, my dearest son may continue to act
through the medium of this little volume, as the
modest instructor of your descendants, persuading
them by his own example, and haply prevailing
with some of them, to become followers of those,
who through faith and patience inherit the promises."

THE END.

VALUABLE WORKS,

PUBLISHED BT

MERRIAM, LITTLE & CO.

Springfield, Mass.

Memoirs of RISDON DARRACOTT, Minister
of the Gospel, at Wellington, Somerset, with ex-
tracts from his correspondence. By James
Bennet.

Darracoit was placed aa a pupil at the Seminary over which Dr.
Dodtlridge presided ; and the tutor was afterwards greatly encouraged
in his endeavors to promote the im|K>nant objects of his Institution,
by witat he heard of the success which liad attended the labors of his
favorite pupil, in the gosix:! ministry.

VILLAGE DISCOURSES, preached at Aston
Sandford. By the late Rev. Thomas Scott, au-
thor of " A Commentary on the Holy Scriptures.
The CHRISTIAN HEARER : designed to show
the importance of hearing the Word, and to as-
sist Christians in hearing with profit. By Rev.
Edw. Bickersteth, Author of ' A Scripture Help,'
&c.
The CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHER. By Thos.

Dick.
The PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

Same author.
The PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION ; or an
illustration of the .Moral Laws of the Universe.
Same author.

"It is one of the most instructive volumes that has ever
fallen into our hands. If there is any work of man calcu-
lated to enlarge and exalt our ideas of God — to make us
feel our own insignificance — our base ingratitude for tiie
innumerable blessings we enjoy, and the infinite claims
which our Maker has upon the affections of our hearts — it
is Dick's Philosophij of Religion. ^^ — Roclusler Observer.

ii Works published by

The POCKET CYCLOPEDIA, or Epitome of
Universal Knowledge. By Joseph Guy. First
American from the Ninth London Edition.

"A valuable work and liiirhly useful." — Rochealer Observer,
ICJ^Nunicrous recommendations might be added.

PALEY'S NATURAL THEOLOGY.
8CHOOL BOOK^.

The AMERICAN READER : Containing Ex-
tracts suited to excite a love of Science and Lit-
erature, to refine the Taste, and to improve the
Moral Character.

Higlily recomineiided by Professor Bond, author ol" tlie Life of
Fisk, Thos. Siiell, D. D. Rev Jos. Vaill, Rev. Kniersoii Davis, Rev.
Asa Rand, Rev. Geo. Nichols, Editors ofN. York Journal of Com-
merce, Mass. Yeoman, Springfield Gazette, &.c.

The FOURTH CLASS BOOK: Confining
Lessons in Reading for the younger classes hi
schools.

The CHILD'S GUIDE : Comprising Familiar
Lessons, designed to aid in Correct Reading,
Spelling, Defining, Thinking, and Acting.

"The title of the last work points out the objects which
we think should be kept in view in forming readinsr books
for children ; and we have seldom seen books so well adapt-
ed to them. Tiicy describe subjects which children can
comprehend, in languai!;e which they can undcrstmtd, — and
tran scarcely fail to interest and nistruct, and what is
more important, to exert a happy moral influence. — The
Fourtti Class Book we have known used willi success.
The Child's Guide we think obviously superior in its plan
and execution." — Jlnnals of Education.

* A'leiriam, Little ^ Co. iii

" It seems admirably adapted to fill an existing space in
the re<jular lino of inlant reading books. * * The subjects
arc well chosen." — U. S. Liter ai-y Jldvertiser.

"This Uttlc book is compiled on the inductive principle,
which we apprehend is the only true philosophy to be con-
sulted in preparing books for beginners. The pri face con-
tains some important practical suggestions to teachers,
and we should judge the book is worthy of a fair trial in
the primarj' schools." — Education Reporter.

" This is a book, which those for whom it is designed can
understand. It is also eminently calculated, while it awa-
kens interest, and improves the mind, to warm tlic pupil in-
to benevolent sentiments." — ["fVoju an Instructor.

" Children are pleased with it, and benefited by using
it." — S.R. Hall, .Author of Lectures on Schoolkeeping.

The CHILD'S ASSISTANT in acquiring Use-
ful and Practical Knowledge.

The work comprises brief but interesting lessons, cliicfly
in the form of Clucstion and Answer, on the following
siilijccts: — Geography, History, Aborigines of America,
American History, the United .States, American Revolu-
tion, Astronomy, Clouds, Winds, &.c. The Human System,
Falsehood, Reading, Manners and Customs, Natural His-
tory, Industry, Governments, Instances of 111 Manners,
Oiiedience, The Ten Commandments, Intemperance,
Improper Modes of Pronunciation corrected, Exi).anatiou
of Common French and Latin Phrases, &c. It also con-
tains Tables of Weight, Measure, Time, Money, &c.
From a J^otice of the Work.

"We have felt the need, in our own family, of just such
an ' Assistant' as this little work. It is designed, by ques-
tions and answers, to impart to the impiisitive minds of
young children, a knowledge of facts important to be un-
derstood by them, and fitted to excite their curiosity to
know more. * * * With such a book at hand, many a
leisure moment may be passed pleasantly to the parent
and profitably to the gratified children."

"This little volume contains information on suhieelt<
cluofly practical, and important in the transaction ol the
ordinary business of life."

iv Works published by Merriam, Little ^ Co.

The CHILD'S BOOK OF GEOGRAPHY.
With Outlines of Countries, Cuts, and eight
Copper plate Maps. By S. R. Hall, author of
' Lectures on School-keeping,' and Principal of
a Seminary for Teachers, Andover, Mass.

" Mr. Hall has a thorough practical knowledge of teach-
ing, and has adapted this Geography to the capacity of the
child. The order of arrangement is the reverse of what
has usually been followed, but seems, as the auilior sug-
gests, to be the order of nature. The child is to commence
at home with the study, and %vith the aid of outhncs, nu-
merous cuts, and eight neat copperplate maps, will easily
acquire a correct knowledoe of Geography. By a proper
arrangement and classification of subjects connected with
this study, the child finds the acquisition of knowledge
easy, and is led on from one t^tcji to another, in an amusing
and fascinating way, till ho acipiircs a general knowledge
of what has usually been made a tedious study. Wo
hope this book will find its way into ifll our primary
schools, and give a new spring to the study of Geogra-
phy."— Springfield Gazette.

'• The Child's Book of Geography seems to me superior
to any thing of the kind I have yet examined. — It is as
true in geography as in learning a language, that we should
begin with the alphabet. The first letter of this alphabet
is our own town. VVe may next proceed to the county,
state, United States, &c. This seems to be the plan oi"
the 'Cliild's Book of Geography.' »

Charles C. Corss.

" I think it the best adapted to the capacity of children
of any Geography which 1 have ever seen." — Rev. A. Elt.

" Dcciilcdly the best first book in Geography, that has lallcn within
our notice." — N. E/ig. Wcckhj Rrvicir.

^cyM., L. &Co. have just pubUshed, The GRAM-
MATICAL ASSISTANT by S. R. Hall, Principal of a
Seminary for Teachers, Andover, Mass.

These works may be liad o!" Collins & Hannay, Nevv York, Tow-
ar &. Hogan, rhiiadelphia, and ihc principal Booksellers in Kcw
Knsland.

University of California

SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY

305 De Neve Drive - Parldng Lot 17 • Box 951388

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388

Return this material to the library from whicli it was borrowed.

UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY

A 001 065 252 7

^'

.-d.N'-'v^^