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POWER OF RELIGION >j

THE MIND,

RETIREMENT, AFFLICTION,

AND AT

THE APPROACH OF DEATH;

EXEMPLIFIED IN THE TESTIMONIES AND EXPERIENCE OP PERSONS DIS-
TINGUISHLD BY THEIR GREATNESS, LEARNING, OR VIRTUE.

Tls Immortality,— 'tis that alone,

Amidst Life's pains, abasements, emptiness,

The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill Young.

BY LINDI.EY MURRAY,
Author of an Ehiglish Grammar, dec, &c

4 > I > •

raOM THE EIGHTEENTH EDITION, IMPHUVEO. .

N E W Y 0 R K : ' ^ '

PRINTED BY ORDER OF THE TRUSTEES OP THE RESIDUARY

ESTATE OF LINDLEY MURRAY.

Mahlon Day's Press, 374 Pearl-et.

183S.

LiNDLEY Murray, the author of this work, in his last
will, bequeathed certain funds to Trustees in America,
his native country, for several benevolent objects, among
which is the gratuitous distribution of " Books calculated
to promote piety and virtue and the truth of Christianity"
— and of which books he desired that " The Power of
Religion on the Mind" might form a considerable part.

New Yor*, 1836.

INTRODUCTION.

To excite serious reflections on the un-
satisfying and transitory nature of temporal
enjoyments ; and to promote a lively con-
cern for the attainment of that felicity,
which will be complete and permanent;
are the objects of the present pubhcation.

Piety and virtue, abstractedly considered,
are truly amiable, and appear worthy of
our earnest pursuit. But when recom-
mended by the hves and testimonies of em-
inent persons, who have known the world,
and experienced the emptiness of its hon-
ours, wealth, and pleasures, they derive
additional importance ; and constrain us to
acknowledge, that the greatest happiness
of man is to be found in religion.

"" INTRODUCTION.

Among' the most important blessings,
which the Divine Being has conferred upon
manldnd, may be numbered, the happy
display of good and pious examples. In
every age and country, perhaps in almost
every little district throughout the earth,
he has placed some of ]\is faithful servants,
or returning prodigals, to bear witness of
his power and goodnesf:.^ and to encourage
others to a life of purity, piety, and beneti-
cence.

The following pages exhibit a few of
those striking examples. In the quiet hour
of reflection, they may contribute to arrest
the careless and wandevinp- ; to animate
the sincere and virtuous ; and to alarm
those who have rejected the mcst import-
ant truths, and who contemn the restraints
of rehgion and virtue.

A number of our fellow-cr«"5atures, of dif-
ferent periods, countries, and condit'cns b^
life, standing on the confines of n^cvtcjlltv

INTRODUCTION. ^

and bearino^ a ■uniform and undisormsed
testimony to the power and excellence of
religion, presents a solemn and interesting
spectacle. With the prospect of immor-
tality before them, and no longer influenced
by those concerns and passions which ob-
scure the understanding and harden the
heart, they must be supposed to view their
objects through a proper medium, and to
speak the language of truth and soberness.

May the important testimonies of these
preachers of righteousness, lead us to just
and seasonable reflections on the state of
our own minds ; and produce a reverent
application to our heavenly Father, for the
aid of his Holy Spirit, to enlighten and
strengthen us, and to conduct us safely
through the paths of life ! May his gra-
cious protection be afforded at the close of
our day, when the shadows of the evening
shall approach, the glittering vanities of
the w^orld be obscured, and all its friend-
ships and resources be found unavailing !

vi INTRODUCTION.

Trials and discouragements may, indeed,
be expected to assail us, in this state of
being. — On surveying our past lives, we
must all be conscious, that, in numerous
instances, v^^e have violated the Divine
Lavv% and incurred the penalty due to our
disobedience. And this view of our con-
dition often occasions deep regret ; and is
sometimes apt to overwhelm the drooping
and diffident mind.

But whatever may have been our devia-
tions from the paths of rectitude, we are
encouraged to ask, and to hope for mercy.
The goodness of God has freely offered to
pardon all our sins, and receive us into
favour, if we sincerely repent, and unfeign-
edly believe in Jesus Christ the Saviour of
the w^orld. In the Revelation of his will
to mankind, the great design, conspicuous
throughout, is, to manifest his love and
compassion towards our fallen race, and to
accompUsh our salvation. ^' His tender
mercies are over all his works." "He

INTRODUCTION. V&,

'&L

taketh pleasure in those who hope in his
mercy." ^^ As a father pitieth his children,
so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.
For he knoweth onr frame : he remember-
eth that we are dust." The blessed Re-
deemer " came into the world to save sin-
ners— to seek and to save that which was
lost." And, to increase our gratitude and
tnist, he has graciously assured us, that
" there is joy in the presence of the angels
of God, over one sinner that repenteth."—
These, and many other passages in the
Holy Scriptures, afford an abundant source
of consolation and encouragement, to the
truly humble and penitent believer in Christ.
And when applied to the heart by Divine
Grace, they produce in us a holy confi-
dence and joy.

Thouo^h the love and mercies of God are
great beyond expression, yet, for wise pur-
poses, his children are not all equally fa-
voured by him, on the bed of languishing
and death. But they are all permitted to

rfli INTRODUCTION.

hope, that, when this awful period ap-
proaches, He will preserve them from being
distressed with mournful retrospects on the
past, or with gloomy apprehensions of the
future : that redeeming love will calm their
fears and disquietudes ; sustain them un-
der every conflict ; and animate them with
the prospect of being soon admitted into
the mansions of eternal feUcity.

ADVERTISEMENT,

In the latter editions of this work, the
author has been sohcitous to make it ac-
ceptable, not only to persons of mature
years, but also to many in younger life.
As the characters which it contains, exhibit
a great variety of striking and animating
views of piety and virtue, and strongly re-
commend the Christian religion in particu-
lar ; he indulges a hope, that instructers of
youth will deem it a suitable book to be read,
occasionally, by the higher classes of their
pupils. It is of great importance to impress
young minds with favourable sentiments
of virtue and goodness ; and to convince
them, by practical evidence, that religion
affords the best support and enjoyment, in
this life, and the only sure ground of hap-
piness in the world to come.

To render the performance more instruc-
tive, as well as more interesting, the author

X ADVERTISEMENT.

has introduced into it many important
moral sentiments, and many reflections
of a religious nature, as well as a consid-
erable portion of useful, biographical in-
formation. The introductory narratives rel-
ative to the subjects of the work, will, he
presumes, be found intimately connected
with its chief design. They gratify curi-
osity, respecting the general character of
the persons whose solemn sentiments are
exhibited; they confer additional impor-
tance on the testimonies in favor of re-
ligion; and they relieve the mind from
the effect, which a succession of deeply
serious matter would occasion.

Some passages in this work, have, in point of orthog-
raphy or grammatical construction, been rectified ; and a
few words and phrases have been altered, to adapt them
better to the subject, or to present usage.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Joo — Solomon — Cyrus — Confucius — Socrates — Stephen, the Pro*
tomartyr — The Apostle Paul — Ignatius — Polycarp — The Vene-
rable Bede — Louis IX. King of France — Pope Eugenius — Car-
dinal Beaufort — Cajsar Borgia page 1

CHAPTER II.

Cardinal Wolsey — Sir John Mason — Emperor Charles V. — Sir
Thomas Smith — Bernard Gilpin — Jane, Queen of Navarre-—
Sir Francis Walsingham — Lady Jane Grey — Sir Walter Raleigh
— Richard Hooker 45

CHAPTER III.

Sir Philip Sidney — Sir Christopher Hatton — Lord Bacon — Sir
Henry Wotton — Peter Du Moulin — Doctor Donne — Philip III.
King of Spain — Catharine Bretterg — Oxensteim, Chancellor of
Sweden — Hugo Grotius — John Selden — Cardinal Richelieu-
Lord Harrington — Salmasius 87

CHAPTER IV.

Cardinal Mazarine — Bulstrode Whitelocke — Anna Maria Schar*
man — Sir Matthew Hale — Du Renti — Princess Elizabeth—
Williain Mompesson — Admiral Peun .,.......»«1?9

ifl CONTENTS.

^«. CHAPTER V.

Pascal — Robert Boyle — ^John Locke — John Janeway— Ead of
Marlborough • •• 151

CHAPTER VI.

Lady Rachel Russel — Jane Ratcliffe — Sir Isaac Newton — Biahop
Burnet — John, Earl of Rochester 174

CHAPTER VII.

Queen Mary — Herman Boerhaave — Joseph Addison — Ann Bay-
nard — Elizabeth Rowe — Doctor Watts 20o

CHAPTER VIIL

Colonel Gardiner— Lady Elizabeth Hastmgs — H. Housman—
Doctor Doddridge 232

CHAPTER IX.

Louis, Duke of Orleans — Soame Jenyns — Lord Lyttelton — Jonas
Hanway — Anthony Benezet — James Hcrvey — ^Altamont, or the
Death of the Libertine 259

CHAPTER X.

Baron Haller — John Howard — Newton's Letters — ^Margaret M.
Althens — Zimmerman — James Hay Beattie — Elizabeth Smith—

EUzabeth Carter — Sir William Jones 299

Conclusion 369

Alphabetical Index 373

THE

POWER OF RELIGION, &a

CHAPTER I.

Job Solomon Cyras Confucius Socrates

Stephen the protomartyr The Apostle Paul

Ignatius Polycarp Louis IX. King of

France Pope Eugenius Cardinal Beaufort

Caesar Borgia.

SECTION I.
THE PATRIARCH JOB.

This venerable patriarch was so eminent an
instance of the power of religion on the mind,
under the most trying afflictions, that a short
account of him may properly introduce these
memoirs.

In the first part of his days, this distinguished

person was " the greatest of all the men of the

East." His possessions were large : his family

was numerous and flourishing ; his own character

was fair and blameless : yet this person it pleased

God to visit with extraordinary reverses of for-

JOB.

tune. He was robbed of his whole substance.
His sons and daughters all perished ; and he him
self, fallen from his high estate, childless and re-
duced to poverty, was smitten with sore disease
His friends came about him, seemingly with the
purpose of administering comfort ; but, from a
harsh and ill-founded construction of the intention
of Providence, in his disasters, they only added
to his sorrows, by unjust upbraiding.

In distress so poignant, what was the temper
of this good man ? Fully persuaded that all bless-
ings come from God, who has a right to with-
hold or distribute them, as he sees best, he pious-
ly exclaims : " The Lord gave, and the Lord
hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the
Lord !"

To his other calamities, this domestic affliction
v/as added, that his wife, who ought to have
soothed and alleviated his sorrows, provoked his
indignation, by an impious speech. What firm-
ness and resignation are marked in his answer to
her ! " Thou speakest as one of the foolish wo-
men speaketh. What ! shall we receive gc>od at
the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil ?'*
Though he forcibly felt the deplorable condition
to which he was reduced, and most pathetically
described and bewailed it, yet no doubt of Divine
goodness, no murmur against Providence, was

JOB. 3

suffered to rise in his mind. " In all this
Job sinned not with his lips, nor charged God
foolishly."

At length, the goodness of that God whom he
served, and who had secretly supported him
under all his sufferings, broke forth upon him
with increased energy; and, like a cheering sun
dispersing the surrounding gloom, again glad-
dened his heart with returning peace and pros-
perity. His riches were restored to him two-fold.
The loss of his former children was repaired by a
new offspring. His name became again renowned
in the East ; " and the latter end of Job was more
blessed than the beginning."

SECTION II.
SOLOMON.

Solomon is one of the most interesting and
extraordinary characters mentioned in the- sacred
Scriptures. The advice which this prince received
from his father David, a short time before his de-
cease, is very remarkable ; and doubtless made a
deep impression on his mind : " Thou, Solomon,
my son, know thou the God of thy father ; and
serve him with a perfect heart, and with a willing
mind : for the Lord searcheth all hearts. If thou
seek him he will be found of thee : but if thou
forsake him, he will cast thee off for ever."

This king having made a great and solemn
offering to God, soon after his accession to the
throne, the Lord was well pleased with his piety
and zeal; and desired him to "ask what lie
, should give him." Humbled under the sense of
the goodness of God to him, and of his incapa-
city to govern so numerous a people, he de-
clared that " he was but a little child :" and,
instead of riches and honour, and length of
days, he desired that God would bestow upon
him wisdom and knowledge, that he might pru

SOLOMON.

dently and happily rule the nation over which
he had placed him. This choice was so much
approved by the Almighty, that he gave him a
wise and understanding heart, and added riches
and honour to the gift.

Solomon was directed by God to build him a
temple at Jerusalem : and this order he faithfully
executed. The prayer which he made at the
dedication of this grand edifice, breathes the most
devout and humble disposition, and the most
ardent desire for the real happiness of his people.
One can scarcely ever peruse it, without feeling a
degree of the same pious ardour, which pervaded
and animated the breast of the royal supplicant,
on that solemn occasion. At this moment, he
shone in his highest lustre : nor can we conceive
any thing upon earth more dignified and majestic,
than his deportment on the dedication of this
sacred structure. We are compelled to revere
the character of the monarch, who with such
uncommon zeal, stood before his nobles, his
princes, and his people, as a preacher of right-
eousness, and as a priest of the most high God.

This illustrious prince, however, at one period
of his life, so far mistook the source of true hap-
piness, as to flatter himself with the hope of great
enjoyments from the world. He sought for and ob-
tained all the means of pleasure ; but found liim-

6 ^ SOLOMON.

self, in the end, greatly disappointed. The result,
of this search and experiment, he gives us, in these
memorable hnes : " I said to my heart, I will prove
thee with mirth ; therefore enjoy pleasure : and,
behold ! this also is vanity. I made great works,
built houses, planted vineyards, made gardens
and orchards, and planted trees in them of all
kinds of fruits. 1 procured servants and maidens ;
I gathered silver and gold, and the peculiar
treasure of kings. I obtained men and women
singers, and the delights- of the sons of men, as
musical instruments, and those of all sorts. So I
was great, and increased more than all that were
before me in Jerusalem : and whatever my eyes
desired, I kept not from them ; I withheld not my
heart from any joy. Then I looked on the works
which my hands had wrought ; and, behold ! all
was vanity and vexation of spirit."

After this full persuasion, that real happiness
was not to be found in sensual pleasure or worldly
honours, he concludes with solemnly recommend-
ing piety and virtue, as the great objects for which
we were brought into being ; and which will not
only yield the best enjoyments of life, but wall sup-
port us in that day, when we must make up our
hnax account. " Fear God, and keep his command-
ments. This is the whole duty of man. For (Jod
will bring every work into judgment, whether it
be good or whether it be evil."

SOLOMON. 7

** When we reflect," says Dr. Blair, " on the
character of him who delivered these sentiments,
we cannot but admit that they deserve a serious
and attentive examination. For they are not the
declarations of a pedant, who, from an obscure
retirement, declaims against pleasures which he
never knew. They are not the invectives of a
discontented man, who takes revenge upon the
world by satirizing those enjoyments which he
sought in vain to obtain. They are the conclu-
sions of a great and prosperous prince, who had
once given full scope, to his desires ; who was
thoroughly acquainted witji life in its most flatter-
ing scenes : and who now, reviewing all that he
had enjoyed, delivers to us the result of long ex-
perience and tried wisdom."

SECTION III.
CYRUS.

Cyrus may justly be considered as the most
accomplished prince that we read of in profane
history. He was possessed of wisdom, moderation,
magnanimity ; a genius for forming, and prudence
for executing, the greatest designs. Of this ex-
traordinary person, the Almighty said : " He is
my shepherd, and shall perform all my pleasure :"
and he was accordingly made use of as an eminent
instrument to punish wicked nations, and to pro-
mote the Divine will respecting the children of
Israel.

When this great prince perceived the approach
of death, he ordered his children, and the chief
officers of state, to be assembled around him. On
this occasion, the influence of religion on his heart
was very conspicuous. He solemnly thanked the
Supreme Being for all the favours he had con-
ferred upon him, through the course of his life ;
implored the same care and protection for his
children, his country, and his friends ; and de-
clared his elder son, Cambyses, his successor,
leaving the other several very considerable gov-

CYRUS 9

emments. He gave excellent instructions to both
of lliem. He observed, that the chief strength
and support of the throne, were not vast extent of
couhtry, number of forces, nor immense riches,
but just veneration towards God, good understand-
ing between brethren, and the acquisition of true
and faithful friends. " I conjure you, therefore,"
said he, " my dear children, in the name of
Heaven, to respect and love one another, if you
retain any desire to please me for the future.
For I do not think you will judge me to have no
existence, because you will not see me after my
death. You have never yet seen my soul : you
must, however, have known by its actions, that
it really existed. Can you believe, that hoiiours
would still be paid to persons, whose bodies are
now but ashes, if their souls had no longer any
being or power ? No, no, my sons ; I could never
believe that the soul lived only whilst in a mortal
body, and died when separated from it. But if I
mistake, and nothing of me shall remain after
death, fear the Deity, who never dies, who sees
all things, and whose power is infinite. Fear
him ; and let that fear prevent you from ever
doing, or deliberating to do, any thing contrary
to religion and virtue. Next to him, fear man-
kind, and the ages to come. You cannot be
buried in obscurity : you are exposed upon a
grand theatre to the view of the world. If your
actions are upright and benevolent, be assured

10 trmi.

they will augment your power and glory. With
regard to my body, my sons, when life has for-
saken it, enclose it neither in gold nor silver, nor
in any other matter whatever. Restore it imme-
diately to the earth." Perceiving himself to be at
the point of death, he concluded with these words :
"Adieu, dear children! May your lives be
happy ! Carry my last remembrance to your
mother. And you, my faithful friends, those
absent as well as those that are present, receive
this last farewell ! May you live in peace !" After
he had said this, he covered his face and died,
greatly lamented by the nations over whom he
had reigned.

SECTION IV.
CONFUCIUS.

Confucius, the celebrated Chinese philosopher,
was born in the kingdom of Lou, 551 years before
the Christian era. When a child, he had a grave
and serious deportment, ■which gained him respect,
and plainly foretold what he would one day be.
But he was most distinguished by his unexampled
and exalted piety. He honoured his relations ;
he endeavoured in all things to imitate his grand-
father, who was then alive in China, and a very
pious man : and it was observable that he never
eat any thing, but he prostrated himself upon the
ground, and offered it first to the Supreme Lord
of heaven. One day, while he was a child, he
heard his grandfather fetch a deep sigh; and
going up to him with much reverence, " May
I prcigume," said he, " without losing the respect
I owe you, to inquire into the occasion of your
grief? Perhaps you fear that your posterity will
degenerate from your virtue, and dishonour you
by their vices." "What put this thought into
your head," said the old man to him; " and where
have you learned to speak after this manner?"
"From yourself," replied Confucius: "I attend

12 coNrucius.

diligently to you every time you speak ; and I
have often heard you say, that a son, w^ho does
not by his virtues support the glory of his ances-
tors, does not deserve to bear their name."

At twenty-three years of age, when he had
gamed a considerable knowledge of antiquity, and
acquainted himself with the laws and customs of
his country, he projected a scheme for a general
reformation of manners. Wisely persuaded that
the people could not be happy, so long as avarice,
ambition, voluptuousness, and false policy, reigned
amongst them, he thought it incumbent upon
him to recommend a severe morality; and ac-
cordingly, he began to enforce temperance, jus-
tice, and other virtues ; to inspire a contempt
of riches, parade, and splendour ; and to excite
such an elevation of mind as would render men
incapable of dissimulation and insincerity. In
short, he used all the means he could think of, to
redeem his countrymen from a life of pleasure to
a life of reason. He was every where known,
and as universally beloved : his extensive learning
and great wisdom, soon made him known ; his
integrity and the splendour of his virtues, made
him beloved. Kings were governed by his coun-
sels, and the people reverenced him as a saint
The good effects of his example and admonitions
were, however, but temporary. He lived m
times when rebellion, wars, and tumults, raged

CONFUCIUS, 13

throughout the emph-e. Men had Uttle leisure,
and less inclination, to Hsten to his philosophy ;
for, as we have observed, they were ambition?
avariciouB, and voluptuous. Hence he oftftn met
with ill-treatment and reproachful language ; and
it is said that conspiracies were formed against
his life : to which may be added, that his neglect
of his own pecuniary interest had reduced him
to extreme poverty.

Some philosophers among his contemporaries
were so affected with this sad state of things,
that they retired into the mountains and de-
serts, thinking that happiness could nowhere be
found, but in seclusion from society. In vain
they endeavoured to persuade Confucius to fol
low their example : — " I am a man," said he,
*' and cannot separate myself from the society of
men, and consort with beasts. Bad as the times
are, I shall do all I can to recall men to virtue ;
for in virtue are all things. If mankind would
but embrace it, and submit themselves to its dis-
cipline and laws, they would not want me or any
body else to instruct them. It is the duty of a
teacher first to perfect himself, and then to per-
fect others. Human nature came to us from
Heaven pure and without defect; but in process
of time, ignorance, the passions, and evil examples,
corrupted it. Reformation consists in restoring
it to its primitive bca^'^j! to be perfect, we must

14 CONFUClUSv

xe-ascend to the point from which we have fallen.
Let us obey Heaven. Let our reason, and not
our senses, be the rule of our conduct : for reason
wdll tench us to think wisely, to speak prudently,
and to behave ourselves worthily upon all occa-
sions."

Confucius did not cease to travel about, and do
all the good in his power. He gained many dis-
ciples, who became strongly attached both to his
person and his doctrine. These he sent into dif-
ferent parts of the empire, to promote reforma-
tion of manners among the people. All his in
structions were enforced by his own example. —
He was remarkable for his gravity and sobriety,
his rigorous abstinence, his contempt of riches,
and what are commonly called the goods of this
life ; for his continual attention and watchfulness
over his actions; and, above all, for his unaffected
modesty and humility. He is said to have lived
three years in retirement ; and to have spent the
latter part of his life in sorrow. A few days be-
fore his last illness, he told his disciples, with
tears in his eyes, that he was overcome with grief
at the sight of the disorders which prevailed in thft
empire : " The mountain," said he, " is fallen ;
the high machine is demolished, and the sages are
all fled." His meaning was, that the edifice of
perfection, which he had endeavoured to raise,
was entirely overthrown. He began to languish

CONFUCIUS. 15

from that time ; and a few days before his death
expressed himself thus : " The kings reject my
maxims ; and since I am no longer useful on the
earth, I ought not to regret leaving it." After
these words he fell into a lethargy ; and, at the
end of seven days, expired in the arras of his dis-
ciples, in the seventy-third year of his age. Upon
the first hearing of his death, the prince, who then
reigned in the kingdom of Lou, could not refrain
from tears ; "God is not satisfied with me," cried
he, " since he has taken away Confucius."

Wise and good men are indeed precious gifts,
wdth which heaven blesses the earth ; and their
worth is seldom justly appreciated till after their
decease. Confucius was lamented by the whole
empire. He was honoured as a saint ; and so
high a veneration was entertained for his memory,
that it will scarcely ever be effaced in those parts
of the world.

■C'

SECTION V.
SOCRATES.

Socrates, the greatest of the ancient heathen
philosophers, was born about 467 years before the
Christian era. His sentiments and conduct were,
in many respects, very excellent, and command
our admiration. He was blessed with extraor-
dinary talents, which were improved by all the
learning that the age in which he lived could
afford : and he appeared at Athens under the
respectable character of a good citizen, a true phi
losopher, and a wise instructor.

Convinced that philosophy is valuable, not as it
furnishes curious questions for the schools, but as
it provides men with a law of life, Socrates cen-
sured his predecessors for spending all their time
in abstruse researches into nature, and taking no
pains to render themselves useful to mankind
His favourite maxim was, "Whatever is above
us, does not concern us." His great object in all
his conferences and discourses, was, to lead men
into an acquaintance with themselves ; to con-
vince them of their errors ; to inspire them with
the love of virtue ; and to furnish them with use-

SOCRATES. 17

tul moral instructions. In these benevolent la-
bours he was indefatigable. He communicated
liis instructions not only when he was in the
cliair, and at set hours of discourse, but even in
his amusements ; when he was at his meals ; in
the camp or market ; and, finally, when he was in
prison : thus making every place a school of virtue.

Through his whole life, this good man dis-
covered a mind superior to the attractions of
wealth and power. Contrary to the general
practice of the preceptors of his time, he in
structed his pupils, without receiving from them
any gratuity. He frequently refused rich pre
sents. The chief men of Athens were his stewards :
they sent him provisions, as they apprehended
he wanted them. He took what his present ne-
cessities required, and returned the rest. Ob-
serving at a particular time, the numerous ar-
ticles of luxury which were exposed to sale at
Athens, he exclaimed : " How many things are .
here which I do not want !"

His intrepid virtue, and the severity with
which he reproved vice, produced the hatred of
men whose principles and conduct were the re-
verse of his own. He was maliciously accused of
corrupting the youth, and of despising religion ;
and was, v/ith singular injustice, condemned to

18 SOCRATES.

die. Before the trial, his chief accuser sent him
a private message, assuring him that if he would
desist from censuring his conduct, the accusation
should be withdrawn. But Socrates refused to
comply with so degrading a condition ; and, with
his usual integrity, replied : " Whilst I live I
will never disguise the truth, nor speak otherwise
than my duty requires."

After the sentence was passed, he was sent to
prison, where he lay in fetters thirty days. In
this long interval, with the prospect of death
continually before him, he did not cease to enjoy
that profound tranquillity of mind, which his
friends had always admired in him. He enter-
tained them with the same cheerful temper, which
he had ever manifested : and Crito observes, that
the evening before his death, he slept as peace-
fully as at any other time. On the day assigned
for him to die, his friends repaired early to the
prison. They found him, with his chains off,
sitting by his wife, who held one of his children
in her arms. As soon as she perceived them,
she made the prison resound with her cries.
Socrates, that the tranquillity of his last moments
might not be disturbed by unavailing lamenta
tions, requested that she might be conducted
home. With the most frantic expressions of griei
she left the prison.

SOCRATES. 19

An interesting conversation then passed be-
tween Socrates and his friends, which chiefly
turned upon the immortahty of the soul. In the
course of this conversation, he expressed his dis-
approbation of the practice of suicide ; and assured
his friends that his chief support, in his present
situation, v/as an expectation, though not un-
mixed with doubt, of a happy existence after
death. " It would be inexcusable in me," said he,
*' to despise death, if I w^ere not persuaded that
it will conduct me into the presence of the gods,
who are the most righteous governors, and into
the society of just and good men : but I derive
confidence from the hope, that something of man
remains after death : and that the condition of
good men will then be much better than that of
the bad."

Towards the close of the day, he retired into
an adjoining apartment to bathe ; his friends in
the mean time, expressing to one another their
grief at the prospect of losing so excellent a
father, and being left to pass the rest of their
days, in the solitary state of orphans. After a
short interval, during which he gave some ne-
cessary instructions to his domestics, and took
his last leave of his children, the attendant of the
prison informed him, that the time for drinking
the poison was come. The executioner, though

20 SOCRATES.

accustomed to such scenes, shed tears as he pie-
sented the fatal cup. Socrates received it without
change of countenance, or the least degree of
perturbation. Then offering up a prayer, that he
might have a prosperous passage into the in-
visible world, with perfect composure he swal-
lowed the poisonous draught. His friends around
him burst into tears. Socrates alone remained
unmoved. He upbraided their pusillanimity, and
entreated them to exercise a manly constanc}^
worthy of the friends of virtue. "What are
you doing ?" said he to them, " I wonder at
you. O ! what has become of your virtue ? was it
not for fear of their falhng into these weaknesses
that I sent away the women ? I have always heard
that we ought to die peaceably, and blessing the
gods. Be at ease, I beg of you, and show more
firmness and resolution." He continued walking ,
till the chilling operation of the hemlock obliged
him to lie down upon his bed. After remaining
a short time in this situation, he covered himself
with his cloak, and expired. Such was the fate
of the virtuous Socrates ! " A story," says Cicero,
"which I never read without tears."

It was not till some time after the death of
this great man, that the people of Athens per
ceived their injustice, and began to repent of
it. Their hatred being satisfied ; their prejudices

SOCRATES. 21

removed ; and time having given them an op-
portunity for reflection ; the notorious iniquity
of the sentence appeared in all its horrors. No
ihmg was heard, throughout the city; but dis-
courses in favor of Socrates. The Academy,
the Lyceum, private houses, public walks, and
market-places, seemed still to re-echo the sound of
his loved voice. " Here," said they, *' he formed
our youth, and taught our children to love their
country, and to honour their parents. In this
place, he gave us his admirable lessons, and
sometimes made us seasonable reproaches, to
(ingage us more warmly in the pursuit of virtue.
Alas I how have we rewarded him for those im-
portant services !" Athens was in universal mourn-
ng and consternation. The schools were shut up,
and all exercises suspended. The accusers were
punished for the innocent blood they had caused
to be shed ; and the regard and gratitude of the
Athenians towards this excellent man rose to the
highest degree of veneration.

22 SOCRATES.

Many other instances might have been given,
of heathens, who, by their actions and discourses,
appear to have been under the influence of re
hgion ; but, in paganism, we find hght so mixed
with darkness, rehgion and truth so blended with
superstition and error, tliat the minds of Christians
will be less edified by examples of this kind, than
by those which exhibit piety and virtue, enlight-
ened by the rays of the gospel, and animated by
the assurance it gives of a happy immortality:
we shall therefore confine ourselves, in the suc-
ceeding pages of this work, to instances of the
power of religion on the minds of persons who
have lived under the Christian dispensation.

It is, however, to the serious and benevolent
mind, a source of thankfulness, to believe that
the Divine Goodness extends itself towards the
upright in heart of every age and every country.
All mankind are, indeed the children of one be
neficent Parent, who will judge them by the de-
gree of light, and the law, which it has pleased
him to afford them. But whilst we indulge this
charitable sentiment, it behooves us who, as
Cliristians, are distinguished by pre-eminent ad-
vantages, to improve them faithfully, to the honour
of the Great Giver, the good of mankind, and »he
edification of our own souls.

SECTION VI,

STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR.

This excellent man lived in the Apostolic age ,
and was remarka'ble for his faith, his wisdom, and
an eminent portion of the Holy Spirit, which it
had pleased God to bestow upon him. Devoted
to the service of his Divine Master, and anxious to
promote the eternal happiness of men, he laboured
fervently to extend the belief, and the blessings, of
the Gospel. These endeavours were rendered
successful, by the support of his Lord ; w^ho ena-
bled him to confirm his Divine mission, by the
miracles which he performed among the people.

But the pious exertions of this upright and be-
nevolent man, for the happiness of others, could
not secure him from the malice and opposition of
his enemies, who were influenced by a far different
spirit. When these adversaries of true religion,
found themselves unable to resist "the wisdom
and the spirit by which Stephen spake," they
suborned witnesses to declare falsehoods, and to
charge him with blasphem.y, before the council.
On this occasion, his innocence, and the sustain-
ing power of his Lord and Master, were eminently

24 STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR.

conspicuous : for whilst " they who sat in council
looked steadfastly on him, they saw his face as it
had been the face of an angel."

In a speech of great simplicity and energy, and
which marked the undaunted firmness of his mind,
he defended the sacred cause which he had espous
ed. He gave a concise, but comprehensive history
of the dealings of God with the Jewish nation ; and
set forth their repeated provocations, disobedience,
and ingratitude, and the unmerited goodness and
mercy of their Divine Lavv^iver; and concluded
with observing, that th«y themselves had been the
betrayers and murderers of the Just One, the
Lord and Saviour of the vTorld. This faithful re
monstrance, instead of affecting them with humih-
ation and sorrow, for their heinous transgression,
excited the bitterest resentment against this firm
and zealous Christian. " They were cut to the
heart, and gnashed on him Avith their teeth." At
this moment, Stephen was animated by an extra»
ordinary interposition of Divine power. " Full of
the Holy Spirit, he looked up steadfastly into
heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus
standing on the right hand of God." This miracu-
lous vision he communicated to the councii and
people ; which so enraged these unhappy creatures,
** that they stopped their ears, and ran upon him
with one accord, and cast him out of the city, and
stoned him." Whilst they were employed in this

STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTTR. 25

yTiurderous deed, the faith of Stephen remained
unshaken. " He called upon God, and said, * Lord
Jesus receive my spirit !' " Far from feeling the
least resentment towards these violent and wicked
men, " he kneeled down, and cried with a loud
voice ' Lord, lay not this sin to their charge !' " —
What a glorious triumph was this of religion,
the pure and benign rehgion of Christ, over the
passions of human nature, and the malevolence of
evil spirits !

SECTION VII.

THE APOSTLE PAUL.

This eminent apostle is supposed to have been
born about two years before our Saviour. He was
a native of Tarsus, in Cilicia, and a Pharisee by
profession. The strong powers of mind which he
possessed, were greatly improved by education.
His parents sent him early to Jerusalem, where he
studied the law, at the feet of Gamaliel, a doctor
of high reputation ; under whose directions he
made a great progress in his studies ; and after-
wards became very zealous for a strict observance
of the law of Moses. But his zeal carried him to
great excess. He persecuted the church of
Christ in the most violent manner. He entered
into the houses of the Christians, and drew out by
force both men and women, loaded them with
chains, and sent them to prison. He searched for
them even in the Synagogues ; where he caused
them to be beaten with rods, and compelled them
to blaspheme the name of Jesus Christ.

In the midst of this mad and destructive career,
he was arrested by a miraculous appearance of that

THE APOSTLE PAUL. 27

gracious Being, whose religion he wished to extir-
pate ; and who addressed him in these alarming
expressions : " I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom
thou persecutest." Struck to the ground, and
humbled under a deep sense of the enormity of
his conduct, he cried out, " Lord, w^hat wouldst
thou haye me to do ?"

From this period, he became sincerely and
earnestly devoted to the service of his Divine
Redeemer ; who, in his unsearchable wisdom and
mercy, made him an eminent instrument in estab-
lishing his church among the Gentiles. The
same zealous and ardent temper, by which he had
been distinguished when attached to Judaism, be-
mg now influenced and directed by Divine grace,
was entirely converted to the holy purpose of pro
pagating the gospel of peace and salvation.

In this most benevolent work, he was indefati-
gable. No labour or fatigue discouraged him :
no enemies or danger appalled him. Having been
assured of the mercy and forgiveness of his Lord,
and animated by the sense of his love, and of the
unmerited honour of being employed in his service,
Paul devoted all his powers, and made every sac-
rifice, to promote the blessed cause in which he
had engaged. He thought that he could never
sufficiently serve a Master, who had been so gra-
cious and bountiful to him.

28 THE APOSTLE PAUL.

The enmity of his open and secret opposers,
the various distresses and afflictions he encounter-
ed, served only to increase the ardour of his pious
pursuits. The strong faith with which he was
endued, raised him above all temporal considera-
tions. " We are (said he) troubled on every side,
yet not distressed ; we are perplexed, but not in
despair; persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down,
but not destroyed." — " I am filled with comfort
I am exceedingly joyful in all our tribulation.'
Supported by Divine grace and future prospects,
he seems to have considered all the labours and
sorrows of this life, but as a drop of the ocean, as
a grain of sand on the seashore, compared with
that exalted state of happiness which awaited him,
and which would last for ever. " Our light af-
fliction, (says he,) which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal
weight of glory."

The life and writings of this distinguished
apostle, exhibit numerous instances of his humility,
self-denial, patience, resignation, and fortitude ; of
his love to God, and love to man. His epistles
contain a clear display of the doctrines of Chris-
tianity, and an ample detail of its precepts. They
have been read, with comfort and edification, by
the truly pious, in every age of the Christian
church.

THE APOSTLE PAUL 29

The nature and design of this work, will not
allow us to recite many of the interesting occur-
rences in the life of this Apostle. We have,
however, in addition to those already mentioned,
selected the following, as striking proofs of the
power of religion on his mind.

After having long acted as the Apostle of the
Gentiles, his mission called him to go to Jerusalem,
where he knew that he was to encounter the
utmost violence of his enemies. Just before he
set sail, he called together the elders of his
favorite church at Ephesus ; and, in a pathetic
speech, which does great honour to his character,
gave them his last farewell. Deeply affected by
their knowledge of the certain dangers to which
he was exposing himself, the whole assembly was
filled with distress, and melted into tears. The
circumstances were such as might have conveyed
dejection, even into a resolute mind; and would
have totally overwhelmed the feeble. " They all
wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck, and kissed
him ; sorrowing most of all for the words which
he spoke, that they should see his face no more." —
What were then the sentiments, what was the
leply of this faithful servant of God ? His firm
and undaunted mind expressed itself in these
words: "Behold, I go bound in the spirit, to
Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall be-
fall me there ; save that the Holy Spirit witnesseth

30 THE APOSTLE PAUL.

in every city, saying, that bonds and afflictions
abide me. But none of these things move me ;
neither count I my Hfe dear to myself, so that I
might finish my course with joy, and the ministry''
which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify
the Gospel of the grace of God."- — Here we per-
ceive the language, and the spirit, of a truly great
and religious man. Such a man knows not what
it is to shrink from danger, when conscience
points out his path. In that path he will resolutely
walk, let the consequences be what they may.

This was the magnanimous behaviour of the
Apostle, when he had persecution and distress full
in view. Let us attend to his sentiments, when
the time of his last sufferings approached, and
observe the majesty, and the ease, with which he
looked on death. " I am now ready to be offered,
and the time of my departure is at hand. I have
fought the good fight. I have finished my course.
I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid
up for me a crown of righteousness." — How many
years of life does such a dying moment over-
balance ? Who would not choose, in this manner,
to go off the stage, with such a song of triumph
in his mouth, rather than prolong his existence,
amidst cares and anxieties, and even amidst the
honours and enjoyments of the world ?

SECTION VTTT

IGNATIUS.

Ignatius, one of the ancient fathers of the
church, was born in Syria, and brought up under
the care of the Apostle John. About the year
67, he became bishop of Antioch. In this im-
portant station, he continued above forty years,
both an honour and a safeguard to the Christian
rehgion; undaunted in the midst of very tem-
pestuous times, and unmoved with the prospect
of suffering a cruel death. He taught men to
think little of the present life ; to value and love
the good things to come ; and never to be deterred
fiom a course of piety and virtue, by the fear of
any temporal evils whatever; to oppose only
meekness to anger, humility to boasting, and
prayers to curses and reproaches.

This excellent man was selected by the em-
peror Trajan, as a subject whose sufferings /night
be proper to inspire terror and discouragcir.ont m
the hearts of the Christians at Romt\ He was
condemned to die for his faith m Christ ; and
ordered to be thrown amongst wild beasts, to be
devoured by them. This cruel sentence, far from
weakening his attachment to the great cause he

32 IGNATIUS.

had espoused, excited thankfulness of heart, that
he had been counted worthy to suffer for the sake
of religion. " I thank thee, O Lord," said he,
"that thou hast condescended thus to honour me
with thy love ; and hast thought me worthy, with
thy apostle Paul, to be bound in chains."

On his passage to Rome, he wrote a letter to h.s
fellow Christians there, to prepare them to ac
quiesce in his sufferings, and to assist him with
their prayers. " Pray for me," said he, '* that
God would give me both inward and outward
strength, that I may not only say, but do well ,
that I may not only be called a Christian, but be
found one." Animated by the cheering prospect
of the reward of his sufferings, he said : " Now,
indeed, I begin to be a disciple ; I weigh neither
visible nor invisible things, in comparison of an
interest in Jesus Christ." — ^With the utmost Chris-
tian fortitude, he met the wild beasts assigned for
his destruction, and triumphed in death.

SECTION IX.

POLYCARP.

PoLYCARP, an eminent Christian father, was
born in the reign of Nero. Ignatius recommended
the church at Antioch to the care and superin-
tendence of this zealous father; who appears to
have been unwearied in his endeavours to preserve
the peace of the church, and to promote piety and
virtue amongst men.

During the persecution which raged at Smyrna,
in the year 167, the distinguished character of
Polycarp attracted the attention of the enemies
of Christianity. The general outcry was, " Let
Polycarp be sought for." When he was taken
before the proconsul, he was solicited to reproach
Christ, and save his life : but with a holy indigna-
tion, he nobly replied : " Eighty and six years
have I served Christ, who has never done me any
injury : how then can I blaspheme my King and
Saviour ?"

When he was brought to the stake, the execu-
tioner offered, as usual, to nail him to it ; but he
said, " Let me alone as I am : he who has given
me strength to come to the fire, will also give

34 POLYCARP.

me patience to abide in it, without being fastened
with nails."

Part of his last prayer, at his death, was as
follows : " O God, the father of thy beloved son,
Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the
knowledge of thyself; O God of angels and
powers, of every creature, and of all the just who
live in thy presence ; I thank thee, that thou hast
graciously vouchsafed, this day and this hour, to
allot me a portion amongst the number of martyrs.

0 Lord receive me ; and make me a companion of
the saints in the resurrection, through the merits
of our great High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ.

1 praise and adore thee, through thy beloved Son ,
to whom, with thee, and thy Holy Spirit, be all
honour and glory, both now and for ever. Amen "

SECTION X.
THE VENERABLE BEDE.

Bede, surnamed the Venerable, was born about
the year 673, in the neighbourhood of Weremouth,
in the bishopric of Durham. Losing both his
parents at the age of seven years, he was, by his
relations, placed in the monastery of Weremouth.
He was educated there, with much strictness ; and
it appears that, from his youth, he was devoted
to the service of religion. He was ordained dea-
con, in the nineteenth, and presbyter, in the thirti-
eth year of his age.

He applied himself entirely to the study of the
Holy Scriptures, the instruction of disciples, the
offices of public worship, and the composition of
religious and literary works. He wrote on all the
branches of knowledge then cultivated in Europe.
In Greek and Hebrev/ he attained a skill, which
was very uncommon in that barbarous age : and,
by his instructions and example, he formed many
scholars. He made all his attainments subservient
to devotion. Sensible that it is by divine grace,
rather than by our natural powers, or by learning,
that the most profitable knowledge of the Scrip-
tures is to be acquired, he united with his studies

36 THE VENERABLE BEDE.

regular prayer to God, that he Avould bless and
sanctify them.

Perhaps no person of his time acquired so dis-
tinguished and widely-extended a reputation, as
Bede ; a reputation too, entirely founded on the
worth of his character, and the extent of his learn-
ing. The Roman Pontiff respected him so highly,
that he gave him a cordial invitation to the me-
tropolis of the church : but this he thought propei
to decline. In the eyes of Bede, the great world
had no charms.

Of his numerous and important writings, the
greatest and most popular was, his "English
Ecclesiastical History." All the knowledge which
we have of the early age of Christianity in
this country, is derived from this production. —
King Alfred so highly esteemed the work, that
he translated it from the original Latin, into the
Saxon language ; and, by this means, increased
its celebrity. — The various merits of Bede ac-
quire additional lustre, from the general igno-
rance and corruptions of the time in which he
lived. Notwithstanding this disadvantage, he ap-
pears to have been a man of eminent virtue :
and to have possessed the happy association of
learning with modesty, of devotion with liberality,
and high reputation in the church with humility
and moderation.

THE VENERABLE BEDE. 37

In the last sickness of this pious and learned
man, he was afflicted with a difficulty of breathing
which continued about two weeks. His mind was
however, serene and cheerful ; his affections were
iieavenly ; and amidst all his inhrmities, he con-
tinued daily to instruct his disciples. At this
period, a great part of the night was spent in
prayer and thanksgiving ; and the first employ-
ment of the morning was, to ruminate on the
Scriptures, and make supplication to God.

Amidst his bodily weakness, his mind was still
so active, that he employed himself in writing on
religious subjects. His translation of the gospel
of St. John, was not completed till the day of his
death. When, at last, he perceived that his end
was drawing near, he met the solemn event, \vith
great composure and satisfaction. *' If my Maker
please, (said he,) who formed me out of nothing,
I am willing to leave the world, and go to him." —
" My soul desires to see Christ, my lung, in
his beauty." He then, with pious elevation of
mind, sung, "glory to the Father, to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit ;" and expired with such
tranquillity and devotion, as greatly afiectet' ail
who saw and heard him.

* SECTION XI.

LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE.

Louis IX., styled St. Louis, succeeded to the
crown of France, in the year 1226. This king
possessed great wisdom, piety, and virtue. His
reputation for candour and justice was so great,
that the barons of England, as well as king
Henry III. consented to make him umpire of the
differences which subsisted between them. Fen-
elon says of this patriotic prince : " He was dis-
tinguished by the nobleness of his sentiments ;
he was without haughtiness, presumption, or se-
verity. In every respect, he attended to the real
interests of his country, of which he was as truly
the father as the king.

An abhorrence of sin was so deeply impressed
upon his mind, by a religious education, that he
not only preserved it through the course of his
life, but was zealous to inculcate it upon others
He was very solicitous that his children should
be trained up in the fear and admonition of the
Lord ; and used to devote a considerable part of
his time to their relio-ious instruction. He often
related to them the punishments which the pride,
the avarice, and the debauchery of princes, brought
upon themselves and their people.

LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 39

In his last sickness, he earnestly exhorted Philip,
his son and successor, firmly to adhere to religion,
in his own private life and conduct, and zealously
to promote it among Iiis subjects. He also strong-
ly recommended to him justice, moderation,
and all the virtues becoming a sovereign and a
Christian He strictly enjoined him never to suf-
fer any one, in his presence, to speak disrespect-
fully of the Almighty, or of those devoted to his
service; or to utter a word, tending, in the
smallest degree, to countenance a crime. " God,"
said he, " grant you grace, my son, to do his will
continually ; so that he may be glorified by j^our
means, and that we may be with him after this
life, and praise him eternally."

His dying advice to his daughter Isabella,
queen of Navarre, was also very expressive of his
zeal for the cause of religion, and his solicitude for
the welfare of his children. He wrote to her as
follows : " My dear daughter, I conjure you to
love our Lord with all your might ; for this is the
foundation of all goodness. No one is so worthy
to be loved. Well may we say : ' Lord, thou art
our God, and our goods are nothing to thee.'
It was the Lord who sent his Son upon earth,
and delivered him over to death for our salvation.
If you love him, my daughter, the advantage Avill
be yours ; and be assured that you can never love
and serve him too much. He has well deserved

40 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE.

that we should love him ; for he first loved us. 1
wish you could comprehend what the Son of God
has done for our redemption. My daughter, be
very desirous to know how you may best please
the Lord ; and bestow all your care to avoid every
thing that may displease him. But particularly,
never be guilty of any deliberate sin, though it
were to save your life. Take pleasure in hearing
God reverently spoken of, both in sermons and in
private conversation. Shun too familiar discourse,
except with very virtuous persons. Obey, my
daughter, your husband, your father, and your
mother, in the Lord : you are boimd to do so,
both for their sakes, and for the sake of him who
has commanded it. In what is contrary to the
glory of God, you owe obedience to none. En
deavour, my daughter, to be an example of good-
ness to all who may see you, and to all who may
hear of you. Be not too nice about dress : if yov
Iiave too many clothes, give them away in charity.
Beware also of having an excessive care of your
furniture. — Aspire after a disposition to do the
will of God, purely for his sake, independently of
the hope of reward, or the fear of punishment."

Thus did this prince teach his children ; and
thus did he live himself. He died in great tr:-n
quillity, in the year 1270.

SECTION XII.
POPE EUGENIUS.

Gabriel Condelmerius was raised to the
Papal throne in the year 1431 ; and took the
name of Eugenius IV. From a low condition
of Ufe, and through various gradations of office,
he ascended to this dignity. Being much averse
to a reformation of doctrine and manners, he
met with great opposition from some of the
clergy ; but being of a determined spirit, he en-
countered every danger, rather than yield to his
opponents. He was often reduced to painful and
mortifying situations, and experienced so many
vicissitudes of life, that he had ample proof of the
vanity and instability of human greatness.

The reflection he is said to have made on his
death-bed, is remarkable ; and shows that, in his
greatest elevation, he did not find that peace and
true enjoyment of mind, which he had possessed
in an humble and retired situation. Being attended
by a company of monks, he turned his face to-
wards them, and said, with a voice, interrupted by
sighs : " Oh Gabriel ! how much better would it
have been for thee, and how much more would
it have promoted thy soul's welfare, if thou hadst
never been raised to the pontificate ; but been
content to lead a quiet and religious life in thy
monastery I"

SECTION XIII.

CARDINAL BEAUFORT.

Cardinal Beaufort was of royal extraction, tlie
son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster ; and was
commonly called, the rich cardinal of Winches-
ter. It is generally believed that he concerted the
death of Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, which
was attributed to poison. History informs us, that
he prevailed with the king, to grant him^ letters of
pardon, for all offences contrary to the statutes
then enacted in England.

The wise son of Sirach exclaims, " O Death, how
bitter is the remembrance of thee, to a man who
is at ease in his possessions !" Of the truth of this
sentiment, Ave have a remarkable proof, in the last
moments of this ambitious cardinal. When he
was arrested in the midst of his career, and the
terrors of death were marshalled in horrid array
before him, he thus complained, and vented his
afflicted soul to his weeping friends around him :
" And must I then die I Will not all my riches
save me ? I could purchase the kingdom, if that
would prolong my life. Alas ! there is no bribing
death. When my nephew, the duke of Bedford

CARDINAL BEAUFORT. 43

died, I thought my happiness, and my authority
greatly increased : but the duke of Gloucester's
death raised me in fancy to a level with kings ;
and I thought of nothing but accumulating still
greater wealth, to enable me, at length, to pur
chase the triple crown. Alas ! how are my hopes
disappointed ! Wherefore, oh, my friends ! let me
earnestly beseech you to pray for me, and recom-
mend my departing soul to God." — Thus died this
unhappy cardinal, in the year 1447,

SECTION XIV»
C^SAR BORGIA.

CAESAR Borgia, a natural son of Pope Alexan-
der VI., was a man of such conduct and cha-
racter, that Machiavel has thought fit to propose
him, in his famous book called, " The Prince,''
as an original and pattern to all princes, who
would act the part of wise and politic tyrants.
He was made a cardinal ; but as this office im-
posed some restraints upon him, he soon deter-
mined to resign it, that he might have the greater
scope for practising the excesses, to which his
natural ambition and crueky prompted him ; for
cruel, as well as ambitious, he was in the highest
degree. After this, he was made duke of Valen-
linois, by Louis XII. of France. He experienced
a variety of fortune ; but displayed, on every
occasion, the most consummate dexterity and
finesse, and seemed prepared for all events. The
reflections he made a short time before his death,
(which happened in the 3^ear 1507,) show, how-
ever, that his policy was confined to the concerns
of this life ; and that he had not acted upon lliat
wise and enlarged view of things, which becomes
a being destined for immortality. "I had pro-
vided," said he, "in the course of my life, for
every thing, except death ; and now, alas ! I am
to die, although entirely unprepared."

CHAPTER II.

Cardinal Wolsey — Sir John Mason — Emperor Charles V
— Sh" Thomas Smith — Bernard Gilpin — Jane, Q.ueen
of Navarre — Sir Francis Walsingham — Lady Jane
Grey — Sir Walter Raleigh — llichard Hooker.

SECTION I.
CARDINAL WOLSEY.

Thomas Wolsey, a distinguished person m
(he reign of Henry VIIL, was born in the year
1471 ; and it is said he was the son of a butcher
at Ipswich. Being made chaplain to the king, he
had great opportunities of gaining his favour ; to
obtain which he practised ail the arts of obsequi
ousness. Having gradually acquired an enthe as-
cendency over the mind of Henry, he successively
obtained several bishoprics ; and, at length, was
made archbishop of York, lord high chancellor of
England, and prime minister ; and was, for several
years, the arbiter of Europe. The emperor
Charles the fifth, and the French king Francis the
first, courted his interest, and loaded him with
favours. As his revenues were immense, and his
influence unbounded, his pride and ostentation

46 CARDINAL WOLSEY.

were carried to the greatest height. He had eight
hundred servants ; amongst whom were nine or
ten lords, fifteen knights, and forty esquires.

From this great height of power and splendour,
he was suddenly precipitated into ruin. His am-
bition to be pope, his pride, his exactions, and his
opposition to Henry's divorce, occasioned his dis-
grace. This sad reverse so affected his mind as
to bring on a severe illness, which soon put a pe-
riod to his days. A short time before he left the
world, the review of his life, and a consciousness
of the misapplication of his time and talents, drew
from him this sorrowful declaration : " Had I but
served God as diligently as I have served the king,
he would not have given me over in my gray
hairs. But this is the just reward that I must re-
ceive for my incessant pains and study, not re-
garding my service to God, but only to my
prince."

With these painful reflections this famous car-
dinal finished his course. He affords a memorable
instance of the vanity and inconstancy of human
things, both in his rise and fall ; and a striking
admonition to those who are abusing the talents
and opportunities, which God has given them to
promote his honour and the happiness of men.

SECTION II.
SIR JOHN MASON.

A STRONG testimony to the importance of re-
ligion, is given by Sir John Mason, who, though
but 63 years old at his death, had flourished in
the reign of four sovereigns, (Henry VIII., Ed-
ward VI., Mary, and Ehzabeth,) had been privy-
counsellor to them all, and an attentive observer
of the various revolutions and vicissitudes of those
times. Towards his latter end, being on his
death-bed, he spoke thus to those about him : " I
have lived to see five sovereigns, and have been
privy-counsellor to four of them. I have seen
the most remarkable things in foreign parts, and
liave been present at most state transactions for
the last thirty years : and I have learned, from the
experience of so many years, that seriousness is IriQ
greatest wisdom, temperance the best physic, and
a good conscience the best estate. And were I to
live again, I would change the court for a cloister,
my privy-counsellor's bustle for a hermit's retire-
ment, and the whole life I have lived in the
palace, for an hour's enjoyment of God in the
chapel. All things now forsake me, except my
God, my duty, and my prayers/*

48 SIR JOHN MASON.

The chief field, bolh of the duty and of the im
provement of man, lies in active life. By the
graces and virtues which he exercises amidst his
fellow-creatures, he is trained up for heaven.
And since Divine Providence has established go-
vernment and subordination amongst men, it fol-
lows, that high offices and stations of dignity, are
compatible with true religion. It is, however, pos-
sible, that the minds of persons in authority, may
be so much engaged with temporal concerns, as
to leave little or no place for the higher duties of
piety and devotion ; duties which purify and exalt
our nature, and give a proper direction and limita-
tion to all our laboiurs for the good of others.

From the regret expressed by Sir John Mason,
It appears that his error consisted, not in having
served his king and country, in the eminent
stations in which he had been placed ; but in hav-
ing suffered his mind to be so much occupied with
business, as to make him neglect, in some de-
gree, the proper seasons of religious retirement
and the prime duties which he owed to lua
Creator,

SECTION III.
CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY.

Charles V. emperor of Germany, king of
Spain, and lord of the Netherlands, was born at
Ghent, in the year 1500.

He is said to have fought sixty battles, in most
ol which he was victorious ; to have obtained six
triumphs, conquered four kingdoms, and to have
added eight principalities to his dominions : an
almost unparalleled instance of worldly prosperi-
ty, and the greatness of human glory.

But all these fruits of his ambition, and all the
honours that attended him, could not yield true
and solid satisfaction. Reflecting on the evils
and miseries which he had occasioned, and con-
vinced of the emptiness of earthly magnificence,
he became disgusted with all the splendour that
surrounded him ; and thought it his duty to with-
draw from it, and spend the rest of his days in
religious retirement. Accordingly, he volun-
tarily resigned all his dominions to his bi other
and son ; and after taking an affectionate and last
farewell of the latter, and of a numerous retinue

60 CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY-

of princes and nobility that respectfully attended
him, he repaired to his chosen retreat. It was
situated in Spain, in a vale of no great extent,
watered by a small brook, and surrounded with
rising grounds covered with lofty trees.

A deep sense of his frail condition and great
imperfections, appears to have impressed his
mmd, in this extraordinary resolution, and through
the remainder of his life. As soon as he landed
in Spain, he fell prostrate on the ground, and
considering; himself now as dead to the world, he
kissed the earth, and said ; " Naked came I out
of my mother's womb, and naked I now return to
\ thee, thou common mother of mankind !"

In this humble retreat he spent his time m
religious exercises, and innocent employments ;
and buried here, in solitude and silence, his gran-
deur, his ambition, together with all those vast
projects, which, for near half a century, had
alarmed and agitated Europe, and filled every
kingdom in it, by turns, with the terror of his
arm.s, and the dread of being subjected to his
power. Far from taking any part in the political
transactions of the w^orld, he restrained his curi-
osity even from any inquiry concerning them ;
and seemed to view the busy scene he had
abandoned, with an elevation and indifference of
mmd, which arose from his thorough experience

CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 61

of its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflec-
tion of having disengaged himself from its cares
and temptations.

Here he enjoyed more solid happiness, than
all his grandeur had ever yielded him : as a full
proof of which he has left this short, but compre-
hensive testimony : " I have tasted more satisfac-
tion in my solitude, in one day, than in all the
triumphs of my former reign. The sincere study,
profession, and practice, of the Christian religion,
have in them such joys and sweetness as are seldom
found in courts and grandeur."

SECTION IV.
SIR THOMAS SMITH.

Sir Thomas Smith was bom in tlie year 1514,
and received a liberal and polished education. Ip
1 542, he was made king's professor of civil law,
in the university of Cambridge, and chancellor
of the diocess of Ely. He was several times em-
ployed by Queen Elizabeth, as her ambassador to
the court of France ; and executed the high office
of secretary of state to that princess. His abili-
ties were excellent, and his attainments uncom
monly great. He was a philosopher, a physician,
a chymist, a mathematician, a linguist, an histo-
rian, and an architect.

This distinguished person, a short time before
his decease, was much affected by the prospect
of his dissolution, and of a future state. He sent
to his friends, the bishops of Winchester and
Worcester, and entreated them to state to him,
from the Holy Scriptures, the plainest and surest
way of making his peace with God : adding, " It
is lamentable, that men consider not for what
end they are born into the world, till they are
ready to go out of it."

SIR THOMAS SMITH. 63

It is truly a sorrowful reflection, that the pur-
suits of this life, and the love of the world, are
often so much indulged, as to captivate the mind,
and charm it into a state of insensibility to the
great end of its existence. How much wiser and
happier should w^e be, if we engaged in temporal
concerns with moderation and restraint, the true
way to extract all their good, and considered our-
selves as strangers and pilgrims travelling towards
a belter country ; instead of being occupied, un-
der continual anxiety and frequent disappointments,
)n the delusive chase of interest and pleasure, till
ihe scene is nearly closed, and the mind left to
the anguish of a melancholy retrospect !

The flood of time is fast approaching : it will
soon pass over us, and bury, in silence and obliv-
ion, all our busy, fascinating schemes and engage-
ments ; and leave nothing to survive the WTCck,
but virtue and goodness, and the consciousness
of Divine favour. What urgent motives for ccr-
rectinfT our terrestrial aims and labours, and for
strivins: to become heirs of that kingdom, whose
honours and enjoyments are perfect, and will last
for ever ! 5*

SECTION V

BERNARD GILPIN.

Bernard Gilpin, a man of exalted virtue, and
distinguished among his contemporaries by the
title of The Apostle of the Noj^th, was descended
from a respectable family in Westmoreland, and
born in the year 1517.

As he early discovered much seriousness of dis-
position, and an inclination to a contemplative
life, his parents determined to educate him to the
church ; and accordingly placed him in a grammar
school, where he passed through the different
classes with great approbation. When he was
sixteen years of age, he was sent to the university
of Oxford, and entered a scholar on the founda-
tion of Queen's college. In this situation, he soon
became distinguished for the diligence with which
he applied to his academical studies ; and for his
proficiency in that knowledge, which the defec
tive systems of education then existing afforded
Of his great progress in the study of divinity, and
of the Greek and Hebrew languages, his exercises
and disputations in the public schools gave very
satisfactory evidence, and recommended him to
much notice in the university ; where he was, at
the same time, admired and loved for the sweet
ness of his disposition, and the simplicity and gen
tieness of his manners?

BERNARD GILPIN. 65

His attachment to the Roman Catholic rehgion,
m which he had been educated, was, for some
time, strong and decided. But an honest and
ardent desire to discover truth ; an unprejudiced
study of the Holy Scriptures ; and frequent con-
ferences with pious and learned men ; produced,
at length, a thorough persuasion of the truth of the
Protestant reformed religion. This cause he stead-
ily and zealously supported, through the whole re-
maining course of his life.

The chief place of Gilpin's active and virtuous
exertions, was in the county of Durham. After
having resigned several benefices, which the oppo-
sition of his enemies, and other circumstances,
would not permit him to occupy with satisfac-
tion, he accepted the rectory of Houghton-le-
Bpring. This living was of considerable value ;
out the duty of it was proportionably laborious.
[t was so extensive, that it contained not fewer
than fourteen villages. It had been much neglect-
ed ; and in it there scarcely remained any traces
of true Christianity. Gilpin was grieved to see the
ignorance and vice, which so greatly prevailed in
the places under his care. But he did not despair
of bringing into order a waste so miserably uncul-
tivated : and, by resolution, diligence, prudence,
and perseverance, he finally succeeded in producing
an astonishing change, not only in the character
sind manners of his own parishioners, but of the

56 BERNARD GILPIN.

savage inhabitants in other northern districts. —
On his arrival among them, the people crowded
about him, and listened to his discourses with
great attention, perceiving him to be a teacher
of a very different kind from those, to whom they
had hitherto been accustomed ; and by his truly
pastoral and affectionate treatment of them, he
quickly gained their confidence, respect, and at-
tachment.

Gilpin had not been long settled at Houghton,
before Bishop Tonstal was desirous of still farther
improving his fortune, by presenting him to a
vacant prebend in the cathedral of Durham. But,
resolving not to accept it, he told the bishop,
that, " by his bounty, he had already more wealth
than, he was afraid, he could give a good account
of. He begged, therefore, that he might not
have an additional charge ; but rather that his
lordship would bestow this preferment on one by
whom it was more wanted." In these perilous
limes, (the reign of the sanguinary Queen Mary,)
his steady, though mild and temperate, adherence
to the reformed religion, involved him in many
dangers and difficulties ; from which he was often
happily extricated, under Divine Providence, by
the favour of Bishop Tonstal, and by his own
judicious conduct. The malice of his enemies
, was probably increased by his unaffected piety,
and exemplary life ; which formed a striking

BERNARD GILPIN. 67

sntire on their negligence and irregularities. They
determined, therefore, to remove, if possible, so
disagreeable a contrast, and sg able a reformer.
After many unsuccessful attempts to disgrace and
destroy him, their hatred so far prevailed, that
ihey procured an order from the merciless Bonner,
bishop of London, to have him arrested and
brought to that city ; where, the bishop declared,
he should be at the stake in a fortnight. Gilpin
was speedily apprized, by his friends of the
measures determined against him ; and earnestly
entreated to provide for his safety, by withdrawing
from the kingdom. But their persuasions were
ineffectual ; for having been long preparing him-
self to suffer for the truth, he now determined not
to decline it. He therefore, "vvith great composure,
waited for the arrival of the bishop's messengers,
after having ordered his servant to provide a long
garment for him, in which he might go decently
to the stake. In a few days he Avas apprehended ;
but before he reached London, an account of
Queen Mary's death was received ; by which event
he was delivered from any farther prosecution.
Thus providentially rescued from his enemies, he
returned to Houghton through crowds of people,
who expressed the utmost joy, and rendered thanks
to God for his deliverance.

On the accession of Elizabeth, he was offered
the bishopric of Carhsle but this he modestly and

58 BERNARD GILPIN*

firmly declined to accept. Not long afterward,
the provostship of Queen's college, Oxford, was
tendered to him. This honour and emolument he
likewise declined. He believed that he could be
more useful, in his present charge at Houghton,
than elsewhere : and this was a consideration su-
perior to every other, in the mind of the pious and
benevolent Gilpin.

Eminent as his labours and generosity were, he
was still unsatisfied with the services he had ren
dered to his fellow-creatures : and therefore, to
the surprise of his friends, he undertook to build
and endow a gi'ammar school ; a design which
his great management and frugality enabled him to
accomplish. The school began to flourish as soon
as it was opened ; and there was so great a resort
of young people to it, that in a little time the
town was not able to accommodate them. Gilpin
therefore fitted up a part of his own house for
that purpose ; where he boarded twenty or thirty
children ; and bestowed clothing and maintenance
on the greater part of them, whose parents were in
poor circumstances.

Gilpin's hospitable manner of living was the ad
miration of the whole country. Strangers and
travellers found a cheerful reception at his board.
He was also pleased with the company of men of
worth and letters, who used much to frequent his

BERNARD GILPIN 69

house. When Lord Burleigh, then lord-treasurer,
was sent by Queen Elizabeth to transact some
affairs in Scotland, he could not resist the desire
Avhich he felt, on his return, to see a man whose
name he found every where mentioned with the
highest respect. He had not time to give any
notice of his intended visit ; but the economy of
so plentiful a house was not easily disconcerted.
Gilpin received his noble guest with so much trae
politeness ; and treated him and his whole retinue
in so affluent and generous a manner, that the
treasurer often afterwards said, " he could hardly
have expected more at Lambeth." V/hile Lord
Burleigh stayed at Houghton, he took great pains
to acquaint himself with the order and regularity,
with which every thing in that house was managed ;
and he was not a little pleased with the result of
his inquiries. There too he saw true simplicity
of m.anners ; and every social virtue regulated by
exact Drudence. The statesman begran to un-
bend; and he could scarcely avoid comparing,
with a kind of envious eye, the unquiet scenes of
vice and vanity in which he was engaged, with
the calmness of this interesting retreat. At length,
with reluctance, he took his leave, embracing the
worthy rector with all the warmth of affection,
and the strongest assurances of his readiness to
render him any services at court, or elsev/here.
When he had mounted a hill about a mile from
HoughtCJTi, and which commands the vale, he

60 BERNARD GILPIN.

turned his horse to take one more view of the
place ; and having kept his eye fixed upon it for
some t^me, he broke out into these exclamations :
" There is the enjoyment of h'fe indeed ! Who can
blame that man for not accepting a bishopric?
What does he want to make him greater, or hap-
pier, or more useful to mankind ?"

' After the lapse of many years spent in the
cheerful, but laborious discharge of duty, this pious
man perceived, from his many infirmities, that his
end was di'awing near. He told his friends his ap-
prehensions ; and spoke of his death with tliat
happy composure which usually attends the con-
clusion of a good life. He was soon after confined
to his chamber. His understanding continued
perfect to the last. Of the manner of his takino
leave of the world, we have the following account"

A few days before his death, having ordered
iiimself to be raised in his bed, he sent for the
poor ; and beckoning them to his bed-side, he
told them, he perceived that he was going out of
the world. He trusted they would be his witnes-
.ses at the great day, that he had endeavoured to
do his duty among them ; and he prayed G od to
rememiber them after he was gone. He would not
have them weep for him. If ever he had told them
any thing good, he would have them remember
il^*at in his stead. Above all things, he exhorted

BERNARD GILPIN. 61

them to fear God, and keep his commandments ;
telling them, if they would do this, they could never
be left comfortless.

He next ordered his scholars to be called in.
To these, likewise, he made a short speech, re-
minding them, that this was their time, if they had
any desire to qualify themselves for being of use
in the world : that learning was well worth theit
attention, but that virtue was of much greater im
portance to them.

He next exhorted his servants : and then sent
for several persons, who had not profited by his
advice, according to his wishes, and upon whom
he imagined his dying words might have a better
effect. His speech began to falter before he had
finished his exhortations. The remaining hours oJ
his life, he spent in prayer, and in broken con
versations with some select friends. He often
mentioned the consolations of Christianity ; de
dared that they were the only true ones ; and
that nothing else could bring a man peace at the
last. — He died in 1583, and in the sixty-sixth year
of his age.

In the preceding sketch of the life of this emi-
nent Christian, and in the account of his death, we
perceive the animating power of religion on his
mind. The following faithful summary of his

62 BERNARD GILPIN.

character, marks very conspicuously the happy in
fluence of the same Divine principle ; and exliibits
to every reader a most instructive lesson.

The natural disposition of this worthy man, was
of a serious cast : yet among his particular friends
he was uncommonly cheerful, sometimes facetious
His general behaviour was very affable. His se-
verity had no object but himself : to others, he was
gentle, candid, and indulgent. Never did virtue
sit with greater ease on any one ; had less mo
roseness ; or could mix more agreeably with what-
ever was innocent in common life.

He had a most extraordinary skill in the art of
managing a fortune. He considered himself barely
as a steward for other people : and took care,
therefore, that his own desires never exceeded
what calm reason could justify. Extravagance
was, with him, another word for injustice. Amidst
all his business, he found leisure to look into his
affairs ; well knowing that frugality is the support
of charity.

He was the most candid interpreter of the words
and actions of others : where he plainly saw fail-
ings, he would make every possible allowance foi
them. He used to express a particular indignation
at slander ; often saying, " Slander, more than
theft, deserves the gallows." He was remarkably

BERNARD GILPIN. 63

guarded when he spoke of others : he considered
common fame as a false medium, and a man's
reputation as his most valuable property.

His sincerity was such as became his other
virtues. He had the strictest regard to truth, of
which his whole life was one consistent example
All little arts and sinister practices, those ingredi-
ents of worldly prudence, he disdained. His per-
severance in so commendable a practice, in what-
ever difficulties it might at first involve him,
raised his character, in the issue, above mahce and
envy ; and gave him that weight and influence in
every thing he undertook, which nothing but an
approved sincerity can give.

Whatever his other virtues were, their lustre
was greatly increased by his humility. To con-
quer religious pride, is one of the best eifects of
religion : an efiect which his rehgion in the most
striking m^anner produced.

With regard to his clerical office, no man could
be more strongly influenced by a desire of dis-
charging his duties. As soon as he undertook the
care of a parish, it engrossed his attention. The
. pleasures of life he totally relinquished, and even
restrained his favourite pursuits of literature.
This was the more commendable in him, as he
always had a strong inclination for retirement;

64 BERNARD GILPIN.

and was often violently tempted to shut himself
up in some university at home or abroad, and live
there sequestered from the world. But his con
science corrected his inclination; as- he thought
-the life of a mere recluse, by no means agreeable
to the active principles of Christianity. The very
repose to which his age laid claim, he would not
indulge ; bat, as long as he had strength sufficient,
he persevered in the laborious discharge of the
various duties of his station, and in the exercise
of a most extensive charity.

In respect to his benevolence, it may justly be
said, that no man had more disinterested views,
or made the common good more the study of his
life ; which was indeed, the best comment on the
great Christian principle of universal charity. He
called nothing his own : there was nothing he
could not readily part with for the service of others.
In his charitable distributions, he had no measure
but the bounds of his income, a small portion of
which was always laid out on himself. Nor did
he give as if he were granting a favour, but as if
he were paying a debt : all obsequious service ox
acknowledgment, the generosity of his heart dis-
dained.

No part of his character was more conspicuous' ■^
than his piety. He thought religion was his prin-
cipal concern: and, of course, made the attain-

BERNARD GILPIN. 65

ment of just notions respecting it, his chief study.
To what was matter of mere speculation, he paid
htlle or no regard : such opinions only as influ-
enced practice, he thought concerned him. He
knew no other end of religion than a holy life : and
therefore in all his inquiries about it, he consider-
ed himself as looking after truths, which were
to influence his conduct, and make him a better
man. All his moral virtues became Christian ones :
they were formed upon such motives, and they
respected such ends, as Christianity approves and
directs. It was his daily care to conform himself
to the will of God ; upon whose providence he
absolutely depended, in all conditions of life. He
was resigned, easy, and cheerful, under whatever
commonly reputed misfortunes he met with. Be-
lieving in a particular providence, he was grateful
to Heaven for every benefit ; and studied to im-
prove religiously every afflictive event.

Such were the life and character of this distin-
guished person. A conduct so agreeable to the
strictest rules of religion and morality, gained him,
among his contemporaries, as was before observed,
ihe title of the Northern Apostle. The parallel was
indeed striking. His quitting the ancient doc-
trines, in the utmost reverence of which he had
been educated ; the persecutions he met with for
the sake of his integrity ; the danger he often ran
of martyrdom ; his contempt of the world ; his

66 BERNABD GILPIN.

unwearied application to the business of his cal-
ling : and the boldness and freedom with which
he reproved the guilty, whatever their fortunes or
stations were ; might justly characterize him a
truly apostolical person.

Viewed with such a life, how mean and con-
temptible do the idle amusements of the world
appear ! how trifling that uninterrupted succes-
sion of serious folly, which engages a great part
of mankind, who crowd into a small compass
every important concern of life ! How much moi'e
nobly does that person act, who, unmoved by all
that the world calls great and happy, can separate
appearances from realities, and attend only to what
is just and right ; who, not content with the clos-
est attainment of speculative virtue, maintains
each worthy resolution that he forms ; and per-
severes steadily, like this excellent man, in the
conscientious discharge of the duties of that sta-
tion, whatever it be, in which Providence has
placed him !

This memoir is principally taken from a work entitled, " The
Life of Bernard Gilpin : by William Gilpin, M. A." It is a
valuable and interesting piece of biography.

SECTION VI.
JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.

Tins excellent queen was the daughter of
Henry II., king of Navarre, and of Margaret of
Orleans, sister to Francis I., king of France. She
was born in the year 1528.

From her childhood, she was carefully educated
in the Protestant religion, to which she steadfastly
adhered all her days. Bishop Burnet says of her :
" That she both received the Reformation, and
brought her subjects to it : that she not only re-
formed her court, but the whole principality, to
such a degree, that the Golden Age seemed to
have returned under her ; or rather, Christianity
appeared again with its primitive purity and lustre."

This illustrious queen, being invited to attend
4.he nuptials of her son and the king of France's
sister, fell a sacrifice to the cruel machinations
of the French court, against the Protestant reli-
gion The religious fortitude and genuine piety,
with which she was endjsd, did not, however,
desert he; m this gre^t ^^woflict, and at the ap-
proach o ieath.

08 JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.

To some that were about her, near the con
elusion of her time, she said : " I receive all
this as from the hand of God, my most merciful
Father : nor have I, during my extremity, feared
to die, much less murmured against God for
inflicting this chastisement upon me ; knowing
that v^rhatsoever he does with me, he so orders it,
that, in the end, it shall turn to my everlasting
good."

When she sav/ her ladies and women weeping
about her bed, she blamed them, saying : " Weep
not for me, I pray you. God^ by this sickness^
calls me hence to enjoy a better life: and now
I shall enter into the desired haven, towards which
this frail vessel of mine has been a long time
steering."

She expressed some concern for her children,
as they would be deprived of her in their tender
years; but added: "I doubt not that God him-
self will be their father and protector, as be has
ever been mine in my greatest afflictions : I, there-
fore, commit them wholly ta bis government and
fatherly care. — I believe that Christ is my only
Mediator and Saviour ; and I look for salvation
from no other. O my God [ in thy good time,
deliver me from the troubles of this present hfe,
that I may attain to the felicity which thou hasi
promised to bestow upon me."^

SECTION VII.
SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM.

Sir Francis Walsingham, an eminent person
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was born at
Chislehurst in Kent, of an ancient and honour-
able family. lie made great progress in his
studies at Cambridge : and, to complete his educa-
tion, travelled into foreign countries, where he
acquired various languages, and gi^eat accomplish-
ments. He was three times sent ambassador to
France. Queen Elizabeth made him secretary
of state, and employed him in the most important
affairs. He had, indeed, a great share in pro
moting and accomplishing the extraordinary meas-
ures which distinguished that illustrious reign.
It may be justly said, that he was one of the
most refined politicians, and most penetrating
statesmen, that are known in history. He had
an admirable talent, both in discovering, and man-
aging the secret recesses of the heart. To his
sagacity and diligence, under Divine Providence,
may be attributed the defeat of the king of Spain's
grand Armada.

This great man furnished a remarkable proof
of his disinterestedness, and his preference of the
public, to his private interest : for after all his
eminent services to his country, he was so poor,
that, excepting his library, which was a very fine

70 8IR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM.

one, he had scarcely effects enough to defray the
expense of his funeral.

Some time before his death, which happened
in 1590, he became deeply impressed with a sense
of the superior importance of religion to all other
considerations. In a letter to his fellow-secretary
Burleigh, lord-treasurer of England, he writes
thus : " We have lived enough to our country,
our fortunes, our sovereign; it is high tune to
begin to live to ourselves, and to our God." This
giving occasion for some facetious person of the
court, to visit, and to try to divert him ; he ex
pressed himself to the following effect : " Ah '
while we laugh, all things are serious around us.
God is serious who preserves us, and has patience
towards us ; Christ is serious who shed his blood
for us ; the Holy Spirit is serious when he strives
with us ; the whole creation is serious in serving God
and us ; all are serious in another world : how suit-
able then is it, for a man who has one foot in the grave.
to be serious ! and how can he be gay and trifling?"

This enlightened and excellent person was,
doubtless, friendly to a cheerful temper of mind,
and to innocent recreations, on all suitable occj,
sions : but he knew and felt, that there are eventa
and circumstances in our lives, which call for pe
culiar circumspection and seriousness, as most con
genial with our situation, and most conducive to
our best interests

Hr^ lor fill.
i ? DY JANE GREY.

T.II5 ex'',e^j''.nt personage was descended from
«lie royal line of England, by both her parents.
She was carefully educated in the prmciples of
the Reformation. Besides the solid endowments
of piety and virtue, she possessed the most enga-
ging disposition, and the most accomplished parts.
Being of an equal age with king Edward VI., she
received her education with him, and seemed
even to possess a greater facility in acquiring
every part of manly and classical literature. She
attained a knowledge of the Roman and Greek
languages, as well as of several modern tongues ;
passed most of her time in application to learning;
and expressed a great indifference for the occu-
pations and amusements usual with persons of her
sex and station. Roger Ascham, tutor to the
princess Elizabeth, having at one time paid her
a visit, found her employed in reading Plato,
while the rest of the family were engaged in a
party of hunting in the park; and upon his ad-
miring the singularity of her choice, she told
him, that " she received more pleasure from that
author, than others could reap from all their sports
and gayety."

72 LAI>Y J.\IS'£ GREY.

This amiable lady fell an innocent victim lo
the wild ambition of the duke of Northumberland ;
who having effected a marriage between her and
Ills son, Lord Guildford Dudley, raised her to the
throne of England, in defiance of the rights of the
princesses Mary and Elizabeth. At the time of
her marriage, she v/as but eighteen years of age j
and her husband was also very young.

Her heart, replete with the love of literature
and serious studies, and with tenderness towards
her husband, who was deserving of her aifection,
had never opened itself to the flattering allure-n
ments of ambition ; and the information of hex
advancement to the throne, was by no means
agreeable to her. She even refused to accept the
crown ; pleaded the superior right of the two
princesses ; expressed her dread of the conse-
quences attending an enterprise so dangerous,
not to say so criminal ; and desired to remain in
that private station in which she was born. Over-
come at last by the entreaties, rather than by the
reasons, of her father and falher-in-law, and,
above all, of her husband, she submitted to their
will, and was prevailed on to relinquish her own
judgment. But her elevation was of very short
continuance. The nation declared for Queen
Mary : and Lady Jane Grey, after wearing the
vain pageantry of a crown, during ten days, re-
turned to a private life, with much more satis-

LADY JANE GREY. ,' 73

faction than she could have felt when royalty was
tendered to her.

Queen Mary, who appears to have been in-
capable of generosity or clemency, determined to
remove every person from whom the least danger
could be apprehended. Warning was, therefore,
given to Lady Jane to prepare for death ; a doom
which she had expected, and which the innocence
of her life, as well as the misfortunes to which
she had been exposed, rendered no unwelcome
news to her. The queen's bigoted zeal, under
colour of tender mercy to the prisoner's soul, in-
duced her to send priests, who molested her with
perpetual disputation ; and even a reprieve of
three days was granted her, in hopes that she
would be persuaded, during that time, to pay, by
a timely conversion to popery, some regard to her
eternal welfare. Lady Jane had presence of mind,
in those melancholy circumstances, not only to
defend her religion by solid argiiments, but also
to write a letter to her sister, in the Greek lan-
guage ; in which she exhorted her to maintain, in
every fortune, a like steady perseverance. On the
day of her execution, her husband, Lord Guild-
ford, desired permission to see her ; but she re-
fused her consent, and sent him word, that the
tenderness of their parting would overcome the
fortitude of both, and would too much unbend
iheir minds from that constancy, which their ap-

74 LADY JANE GREY.

proacliing end required. Their separation, she
said, would be only for a moment ; and they
would soon rejoin each other in a scene where
their affections would be for ever united, and where
death, disappointments, and misfortunes, could no
longer have access to them, or disturb their eternal
felicity.

It had been intended to execute the Lady Jane
and her husband, on the same scaffold, at Tower-
hill ; but the council dreading the compassion of
the people for their youth, beauty, innocence,
and noble birth, changed their orders, and gave
directions that they should be beheaded withm
the verge of the Tower. She saw her husband
led to execution ; and, having given him from the
window some token of her remembrance, waited
with tranquillity till her own appointed hour
should bring her to a like fate. She even saw his
headless body carried back in a cart ; and found
herself more confirmed by the reports which she
heard of the constancy of his end, than shaken by
so tender and melancholy a spectacle. Sir John
Gage, constable of the Tower, when he led her
to execution, desired her to bestow on him some
small present, which he might keep as a perpetual
memorial of her. She gave him her table-book,
on which she had just written three sentences, on
seeing her husband's dead body ; one in Greek,
another in Latin, a third in English. The purport

LADY JANE GREY. 75

of them was, that human justice was against his
body, but that Divine Mercy would be favourable
to his soul ; that if her fault deserved punishment,
her youth, at least, and her imprudence, were
worthy of excuse; and that God and posterity,
she trusted, would show her favour. On the
scaffold, she made a speech to the bystanders,
in which the mildness of her disposition, led her
to take the blame entirely on herself, without
uttering one complaint against the severity with
which she had been treated. She said, that her
offence was, not that she had laid her hand upon the
crown, but that she had not rejected it with suffi-
cient constancy : that she had erred less through
ambition, than through reverence to her parents,
whom she had been taught to respect and obey :
that she willingly received death, as the only satis-
faction which she could now make to the injured
state ; and though her infringement of the laws
had been constrained, she would show, by her
voluntary submission to their sentence, that she
was desirous to atone for that disobedience, into
which too much filial piety had betrayed her : that
she had justly deserved this punishm.ent, for be-
ing made the instrument, though the unwilling
instrument, of the ambition of others : and that
the story of her life, she hoped, might at least be
useful, by proving that innocence of intention
excuses not actions that any way tend to the de-
struction of the commonwealth. After uttering

7.6. LADY JANE GREY.

these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by
her women ; and with a steady, serene counte
nance, submitted herself to the executioner

We shall conclude the account of this virtuous
and excellent young person, with a few remarks
respecting her, made by bishop Burnet : " She
read," says he, " the Scriptures much, and had at-
tained frreat knowled^re of relimous subjects.
But with all her advaniages of birth and parts, she
was so humble, so gentle and pious, that all peo-
ple both admired and loved her. She had a mind
wonderfidly raised above the world ; and at the
age, when others are but imbibing the notions of
philosophy, she had attained the practice of the
highest precepts of it. She was neither lifted up
with the Iiope of a crown, nor cast down, when
she saw her palace made afterwards her prison ;
but maintained an equal temper of mind in
those great inequalities of fortune, that so sudden-
ly exalted and depressed her. All the passion
which she expressed, was that whicli is of the
noblest sort, and which is the indication of tendei
and generous natures, being much affected with
the troubles which her husband and father suf-
fered on her account. She rejoiced at her ap-
proaching end, since nothing could be to hei
more welcome, than to pass from tliis valley of
misery, to that heavenly throne to which she was
to be advanced."

SECTION IX.

SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

Sir Walter Raleigh, an illustrious English-
man, of an ancient family in Devonshire, was
born in 1552. He was a man of admirable parts,
extensive knowledge, undaunted resolution, and
strict honour and honesty. As a soldier, a states-
man, and a scholar, he was greatly distinguished ;
and was eminently useful to Queen Elizabeth,
who protected and encouraged him in the various
enterprises which he projected. He was the dis-
coverer of Virginia ; and took effectual measures
for the settlement of the country, and for promo-
ting its prosperity.

His active enterprises against the Spaniards,
both in Europe and South America, excited the
particular enmity of the court of Spain, which
used every means to effect his destruction. Du-
ring the reign of Elizabeth, these machinations
were fruitless ; but on the accession of James I.,
Sir Walter lost his interest at court, was stripped
of his employments, and unjustly accused and
condemned for a plot against the king. Ke was
afterwards trusted by James with a commission
of considerable importance ; and thus virtually

78 8IR WALTER RALEIGH.

pardoned for all supposed offences. The malice
of his enemies, however, at length prevailed
against him ; and he was pusillanimously sacri-
ficed to appease the Spaniards, who, whilst Ra-
leigh lived, thought every part of their dominions
m danger.

He was executed in Old Palace Yard, in the
66th year of his age. His behaviour on the scaf-
fold was manly, unaffected, and even cheerful. —
Being asked by the executioner which way he
would lay his head, he answered : — " So the
heart be right, it is no matter which way the
head lies."

During his imprisonment, and with the prospect
of death before him, he wrote the following letters
to his son, and to his wife. They contain many
solemn and affecting admonitigns ; and testify the
influence of religion on his mind.

In the letter to his son, he says : " My son, let
my experienced advice, and fatherly instructions,
sink deep into thy heart. Seek not riches basely,
nor attain them by evil means. Destroy no man
for his wealth, nor take any thing from the poor ;
for the cry thereof will pierce the heavens : and it
is most detestable before God, and most dishonour-
able before worthy men, to wrest any thing from
the needy and labouring soul. God will never

SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 79

prosper thee, if thou offendest therein. Use thy
poor neighbours and tenants well. Have compas-
sicn on the poor and afflicted, and God will bless
thee for it. Make not the hungry soul sorrowful :
for if he curse thee in the bitterness of his soul,
his prayer shall be heard of him that made him.

" Now, for the world, dear child, I know it too
well to persuade thee to dive into the practices
of it : rather stand upon thy guard against all
those that tempt thee to it, or may practise upon
thee, whether in thy conscience, thy reputation, or
thy estate. Be assured that no man is wise or safe,
but he that is honest. Serve God ; let him be the
author of all thy actions. Commend all thy en-
deavours to him, that must either wither or pros-
per them. Please him with prayer; lest if he
frown, he confound all thy fortune and labour, like
the drops of rain upon the sandy ground. So
God direct thee in all thy ways, and fill thy heart
with his grace !"

THE FOLLOWING IS A COPY OF THE LETTER TO HIS

WIFE.

" You will receive, my dear wife, my last words,
in these mv last lines. My love I send you, which
you may keep when I am dead ; and my counsel,
that you may remember it, when I am no more.

80 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

I would not, with my will, present you sorrows,
dear wife; let them go to the grave with me,
and be buried in the dust : and seeing that it is
not the will of God that I shall see you any more,
bear my destruction patiently, and with a heart
like yourself. First, I send you all the thanks
which my heart can conceive, or my words ex-
press, for your many travails and cares for me :
for though they have not taken effect, as you
wished, yet my debt to you is not the less ; but
pay it I never shall in this world. Secondly, I
beseech you, for the love you bear me living, that
you do not hide yourself many days ; but by your
travails seek to help my miserable fortunes, and
the right of your poor child : your mourning can-
not avail me, who am but dust. Thirdly, you
shall understand, that my lands were conveyed,
bona fide, to my child: the writings were drawn
at midsummer was a twelvemonth, as divers can
witness. I trust my blood will quench their
malice who desired my slaughter ; and that they
will not seek to kill you and yours with extreme
poverty.

" To what friend to direct you, I know not ;
for all mine have left me in the true time of taial.
Most sorry am I, that being surprised by death,
I can leave you no better estate: God hath pre-
vented all my determinations; that great God,
who worketh all in all. If you can live free from

SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 81

want, care for no more ; for the rest is but vanity.
Love God, and begin betimes ; in him you will
find true and endless comfort : when you have
travailed and wearied yourself with all sorts of
worldly cogitations, you will sit down with sorrow
in the end. Teach your son also to serve and
fear God whilst he is young, that the fear of God
may grow up in him : then will God be a husband
to you, and a father to him ; a husband and a father
that can never be taken from you.

" Dear wife, I beseech you, for my soul's sake,
pay all poor men. When I am dead, no doubt
you will be much sought unto ; for the world
thinks I was very rich. Have a care of the fair
pretences of men ; for no greater misery can be-
fall you in this life, than to become a prey unto the
world, and afterwards to be despised. As for me,
I am no more yours, nor you mine : death has
cut us asunder, and God has divided me from the
world, and you from me. Remember your poor
child, for his father's sake, who loved you in his
happiest estate. I sued for my life ; but, God
knows, it was for you and yours, that I desired it •'
for know it, my dear wife, your child is the child
of a true man, who in his own respect dcspiseth
death and his mis-shapen and ugly forms. —
I cannot write much : God knows how hardly I
steal this time, when all are asleep : and it is
also time for me to separate my thoughts from the

82 EIR WALTER RALEIGH.

world. Beg my dead body, which Hving was de-
nied you ; and either lay it in Sherborne, or in
Exeter church, by my father and mother.

" I can say no more : time and death call me
away. The everlasting God, powerful, infinite,
and inscrutable ; God Almighty, who is goodness
itself, the true light and life, keep you and yours,
and have mercy upon me, and forgive my perse-
cutors and false accusers, and send us to meet in
his glorious kingdom ! My dear wife, farewell !
bless my boy ; pray for me ; and may my true
God hold you both in his arms !

"Yours that was, but not now mine own.

** Walter RaleighJ*'

SECTION X.

RICHARD HOOKER.

Richard Hooker was born near Exeter, in
ihe year 1553. He possessed great learning and
sound judgment ; and distinguished himself by
a celebrated work, entitled, " The Laws of Eccle-
siastical Polity." He was a meek and pious man,
and spent his days in labouring to promote the
glory of his Creator, and the happiness of men

In 1585, he was made master of the Temple,
which was deemed, by most persons, a noble pre-
ferment. But it was not so suitable to Hooker's
temper, as the retirement of a living in the coun-
try ; especially as he had to encounter much oppo-
sition. He therefore entreated the archbishop
to remove him to a more peaceful residence. —
" When I lost (said he) the freedom of my cell,
which was my college, yet I found some de-
gree of it in my quiet country parsonage. —
But I am "Weary of the noise and oppositions of
this place : and, indeed, God and nature did not
intend me for contentions, but for study and
quietness." — His desire was, to be placed in a

84 RICHARD HOOKER.

situation, "where (as he piously expresses him
self) I may see God's blessings spring out of the
earth, and eat my own bread, in peace and
privacy ; a place where I may, without disturb-
ance, meditate on my approaching mortality, and
on that great account, which all flesh must give,
at the last day, to the God of all spirits."

His exemplary and peaceable life did not, how-
ever, secure him from enemies, by whom he was
grossly calumniated, and charged with conduct
which he abhorred. Over these attacks, the good
providence of God enabled him, at length, to
triumph ; and his slanderers were convicted, and
duly punished. His grateful acknowledgments
to Heaven, for this deliverance, were expressed
in these terms : — " O my God, neither my life,
nor my reputation, is safe in my own keepmg ;
but in thine, who didst care for me, when I yet
hung on my mother's breast. Blessed are they
who put their trust in thee : for when false wit-
nesses were risen up against me ; when shame
was ready to cover my face ; when I was bowed
down with a horrible dread, and went mourning
all the day long ; then thou, O Lord, didst hear
my complaint, pity my condition, and art now be-
come my deliverer. As long as I live, I will
magnify thy mercy, who didst not give me over to
my enemies."

RICHARD HOOKER. 85

When his slanderers were about to be punished,
he endeavoured to procure their pardon : hut
finciing his labours for this pm-posc fruitless, ho
observed, that " he would, however, pray, tlial
(Jod would give them repentance, and patience
to undergo their punishment." — Aher this deliv-
cr;uice, he was often heard to say : " O, with what
quietness did I enjoy my so»d, after I was free
from the fears of this slander ! And how much
more, after the conflict with myself, and the vic-
tory over my desires of revenge !"

Hooker was not happy in his marriage : but he
endeavoured to profit by this trial, and to be
cheerfully resigned to the will of God. To a
friend, who expressed his sorrov/ for the troubles
in which he saw him involved, he humbly replied.
in this manner : " My dear friend, I ought not to
repine at what my wise Creator hatJi allotted lor
me : but I ought to labour, as indeoa f do daily, to
submit to his will, and to possess my soul in pa-
tience and peace."

A short time before his death, this humble and
truly good man, expressed himself as follows :
" I have h'ved to see that this world is full of
p(»rturbations ; and I have been long preparing
to leave it, and gathering comfort for the awful
hour of making up my account with God, which
I now apprehend to be near. And though I have,

86 . RICHARD HOOKER.

bv his grace, loved him in my youth, and feared
him in my age, and laboured to have a conscience
void of offence tovi^ards him, and towards all men ;
yet, if thou. Lord, shouldst be extreme to mark
vvliat I have done amiss, how shall I abide it?
Where I have failed. Lord, show mercy to me ;
for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgive
ness of my unrighteousness, through his merits,
who died to purchase pardon for penitent sinners.
And since I owe thee a death. Lord, let it not be
terrible, and then choose thy own time ; I submit
to it. Let not mine, O Lord, but thy will bo
done !"

At another time, he said : " God hath heard my
daily petition : for I am at peace with all men,
and he is at peace with me. From this blessed
assurance, I feel tliat inward joy, which the world
can neither give, nor take from me. My con-
science bearet.h me this witness ; and this witness
makes the thoughi^ of death joyful. I could wish
to live to do the churck more service ; but I can-
not hope it ; for my days a^e past, as a shadow
that returns not."

Soon after he had uttered these expressions, his
spirits failed him ; and a short conflict put a period
to his life, in the 47th year of his age.

CHAPTER III.

Sir Philip Siduey Sir Christopher Ilation Loicl

Bacon Sir Henry Wotton Peter Du Moulin

Dr. Donne Philip III., King of Spain Catharine

Bretterg Oxenstiern, Chancellor of Sweden

Hugo Grotius John Selden Cardinal Richelieu

Lord Harrington Salmasius.

SECTION I.
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

Sir Philip Sidney was born in Kent, in tlie
year L554. He possessed shining talents; was
well educated ; and at the early age of twenty
one, was sent by Queen Elizabeth, as her ambas-
sador to the emperor of Germany. He is
described by the writers of that age, as the
finest model of an accomplished gentleman that
could be formed, even in imagination. An ami-
able disposition, elegant erudition, and polite con-
versation, rendered him the ornament and delight
of the English court. Lord Brooke so highly
valued his friendship, that he directed to be inserted
as part of his epitaph, " Here lies Sir Philip Sid-
ney's friend." His fame was so widely spread,
that if he had chosen it, he might have obtained
tlie crown of Poland.

88 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

But the glory of this Marcelhis of the Enghsh
nation, was of short duration. He was wounded
at the battle of Zutphen, and carried to Arnheim,
where, after Languishing about three weeks, he
died, in the 32d year of his age.

This accomphshed person, at the solemn period
of approaching death, when a just estimate of
tilings is formed, and when the mind looks round
for support and consolation, perceived that the
greatest worldly honours are only splendid vani-
ties, and have but a momentary duration. At this
period, he was so dissatisfied with Ids " Arcadia,"
a romantic work, ill agreeing with his present
serious views of things, that it is said, he desired it
might never be published.

After he had received the fatal wound, and
was brought into a tent, he piously raised his
eyes towards heaven, and acknowledged the hand
of God in this event. He confessed himself to
be a sinner, and returned thanks to God, that " he
had not struck him with death at once ; but
gave him space to seek repentance and recon-
ciliation."

Compared with his present views of religion.
Lis former virtues seemed to be nothing. When
it was observed to liim, that good men, in the
time of great affliction, found comfort and sup-

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 89

port, in the recollection of those parts of their
lives, in which they had glorified God ; he humbly
replied : " It is not so with me. I have no comfort
that way. All things in my former life have been
vain."

On being asked, whether he did not desire
life, merely to have it in his power to glorify
God, he answered : " I have Vowed my life unto
God ; and if he cut me off, and suffer me to live
no longer, I shall glorify him, and give up myself
to his service."

The nearer death approached, the more his con-
solation and hopes increased. A short time before
his dissolution, lie lifted up his eyes and hands, and
uttered these words ; " I would not change my
joy for the empire of the world."

His advice and observations, on taking the last
leave of his deeply afflicted brother, are worthy
of remembrance. They appear to have been
c:^pressed with great seriousness and composure.
" Love mv memory ; cherish my friends. Their
fidelity to me may assure you that they are
lionest. But, above all, govern your wills and
affections, by the will and word of your Creator
In me, behold the end of the w^orld, and all its

vanities."

SECTION II.
SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON.

Sir Christopher Hatton possessed great
abilities, highly cultivated by study and business.
He was remarkable for his eloquence and powers
of persuasion. Queen Elizabeth, by whom he
was greatly esteemed and favoured, made him
lord high chancellor of England. And it was re-
markable, that though he had never followed the
profession of the law, his knowledge of it was so
profound, that none of his decisions, as chan-
cellor, were ever found deficient either in equity or
judgment.

This learned man had a high veneration for the
Holy Scriptures; and, a short tune before his
death, particularly recommended to his relations,
to search them seriously and diligently, in order
to discover the will of God. *'It is," said he,
"justly accounted a piece of excellent knowledge,
to understand the law of the land, and the customs
of oiir country ; but how much more excellent
is it, to know the statutes of heaven, and the
laws of eternity, the immutable and perpetual

«IR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. ^i

laws of justice and righteousness ! to know the
will and pleasure of the great Monarch and uni-
versal King of the world ! * I have seen an end
of all perfection ; but thy commandments, O God '
are exceedingly broad.' "

The knowledge of the Divine will, is, indeed,
the most important of all knowledge. Were we
possessed of the most comprehensive understand
ing, the finest imagination, and the most capacious
memory ; were we able to penetrate into all the
secrets of nature, and sound the depths of every
art and science ; and yet remain ignorant of^ or
disregard, Him who is the Author of our being
and the Preserver of our lives, our Sovereign and
our Judge ; we should, with a great deal of know-
ledge, mistake our highest interests, and be miser .
able for ever.

SECTION ni.
LORD BACON.

Francis Bacon, viscount St. Albans, and lord^
high chancellor of England, was born in the year
1561. The following account of this celebrated
philosopher, is- taken from Addison : —

" Sir Francis Bacon was a man who, for grcat-
JI$S.3^ of genius, and compass of knowledge, did
honour to his age and country ; I could almost
say, to human nature itself. He possessed at
once all those extraordinary talents, which were
divided amongst the greatest authors of antiquity.
He had the sound, distinct, comprehensive know-
ledge of Aristotle, with all the beautiful lights,
graces, and embellishments of Cicero. One does
not know which to admire most in his writings,
the strength of reason, the force of style, or the
brightness of imagination.

"I was infinitely pleased to find, among the
works of this extraordinary man, a prayer of his
own composing ; which, for its elevation of thought,
and greatness of expression, seems rather the de-
votion of an angel than of a man. His principal
fault appears to have been, the excess of that virtue

LORD BACON. 93-

which covers a multitude of faults. This betrayed
him to so great an indulgence towards his ser-
vants, who made a corrupt use of it, that it strip-
ped him of those riches and honours, which a long
series of merits had heaped upon him. But in
this prayer, at the same time that we find him
prostrating himself before the great mercy-seat,
and humbled under afflictions, which at that time
hiy heavy upon him, we see him supported by
the sense of his integrity, his zeal, his devotion,
and liis love of mankind ; which gave him a much
higher figure, in the minds of thinking men, than
that greatness had done from which he was fallen.
I shall write down the prayer itself, as it was
found among his lordship's papers, written with
his own hand : —

**'Most gracious Lord God, my merciful Fa-
ther ! my Creator, my Redeemer, my Comforter !
thou soundest and searchest the depths and secrets
of all hearts; thou acknowledgest the upright;
thou judgest the hypocrite ; vanity and crooked
ways cannot be hid from thee.

" ' Remember, O Lord, how thy servant has
walked before thee ; remember what I have first
sought, and what has been principal in my inten-
tions. I have loved thy assemblies ; I have
mourned for the divisions of thy church ; I have
delighted in the brightness of thy sanctuary;

94 LORD BACON.

I have ever prayed unto thee, that the vine wliich
thy right hand hath planted in this nation, might
have the former and the latter rain ; and that it
might stretch its branches to the seas, and to the
floods. The state and bread of the poor and op-
pressed have been precious in my eyes ; I have
hated all cruelty and hardness of heart ; I have,
though a despised weed, endeavoured to procure
the good of all men. If any have been my ene
mies, I thought not of them, neither has the sun
gone down upon my displeasure : but I have been
as a dove, free from superfluity of maliciousness.
Thy creatures have been my books, but tiiy Scrip-
tures much more so. I have sought thee m the
courts, the fields, and the gardens ; but I have
found thee in thy temples.

" ' Thousands have been my sins, and ten thou
sands my transgressions : but thy sanctifications
have remained with me ; and my lieart, through
thy grace, hath been an unquenched coal upon
thine altar.

" ' O Lord, my strength ! I have, from my
youth, met with thee in all my ways ; in thy fa
therly compassions, in thy merciful chastisements,
and in thy most visible providences. As thy fa-
vours have increased upon me, so have thy correc-
tions ; as my worldly blessings were exalted, so
secret darts from thee have pierced me ; and when

LORD BACON. 95

I have ascended before men, I have descended in
hunnilialion before ihee. And now, when J have
been thinking most of place and honour, thy
hand is heavy upon me, and has humbled me
according to thy former loving-kindness, keeping
me still in thy fatherly scliool, not as a bastard,
but as a child. Just are thy judgments upon me
for my sins, which are more in number than the
sands of the sea, but which have no proportion to
thy mercies. Besides my innumerable sins, I con-
fess before thee, that I am debtor to thee for the
gracious talent of thy gifts and graces ; which
I have neither put into a napkin, nor placed, as I
ought, with exchangers, where it might have made
best profit ; but I have misspent it in things for
which I was least fit : so I may truly say, my seal
has been a stranger in the course of my pilgrim-
age. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my Sav-
iour's sake, and receive me into thy bosom, or
guide me in thy Avays.' "

SECTION IV.

SIR HENRY WOTTON.

Sir Hex\ry Wotton, an Engiishnuin emmenl
for learning, and for knowledge in slate aflairs,
was born in the ycciY 1568. He was often em
plo3'cd by James the First, as ambassador to seve
ral of the European states ; and discharged the
trust reposed in him, with ability, and to the satis-
faction of the king. He enjoyed the favour of this
prnice, and was much esteemed and admired by
his contemporaries. But these honours did not
afford him that satisfaction ■which a wise man
wishes to obtain. Amidst them all he could say :
" It is the greatest happiness of my life, to be at
leisure to be, and to do good.**

Though he was much esteemed for his wisdom
and regular deportment, yet near the end of liis
days, when he reflected seriously on his past life,
he felt great concern ; and often repeated these
solemn expressions : " How much have I to repent
of, and how little time to do it in !"

SECTION T.
PETER DU MOULIN.

Peter du Moulin, an eminent Protestant
minister in France, was born in the year 1568.
Bayle calls him " one of the most celebrated min-
isters, that the reformed church in France ever
had to boast of." He was a man of such emi-
nence, that James the first of England, employed
him to attempt the accomplishment of a union
between the reformed and Lutheran churches.
This pious and excellent man was remarkable,
through life, for a low opinion of himself, and an
unwearied diligence in doing good. In his last
sickness, his meekness and humility were par-
ticularly prevalent. On hearing himself praised
by one who thought he undervalued himself, he
said, with indignation, " Away with this flattery,
and pray to God to have mercy on me." " Lord,"
said he, " I have deserved nothing but punish-
ment. Thou hast heaped blessings upon me.
Thou hast honoured me with a holy calling : but I
have not laboured according to the worth of it :
I have mingled my own glory with thine. I
have often neglected thy service, to seek my par-
ticular interest. O, how much self-love ! what
perverseness has opposed the kingdom of thy Son

98 peteh du moulin.

within me ! How often have I grieved ihy Holy
Spirit, by idle thoughts and carnal affections ! and
yet thou hast always shown thyself a gracious
and merciful Father to me. Thou hast, indeed,
sometimes chastened me with thy rod. Thou
hast hid thy face from me for a moment : but
thou hast remembered me in thy great compas
sion. Lord, thou art faithful in thy promises.
I am thy creature. Thou hast led me, and taught
me, from my youth : 0 forsake me not in this
last period of my life."

To a person who commended his service, in
the cause of religion, he replied : " Ah, my friend,
you know not how much you grieve me by such
language. I have not done all the good I ought
to have done ; and that little benefit which the
church has reaped by my labours, is not from
me, but from the grace of God which is in me ;
as he frequently produces a good effect with a
weak instrument. I am conscious that I have neg-
lected my duty in many things, and offended my
God ; but I have loved his holy truth, and I hope
in his mercy."

His sickness was an inflammation of the lungs,
with an ague, which returned with double vio-
lence every day at the same hour. Recovering
from one of these fits, he said : " My God, how
weary am T ! When shall I rest in thy bosom ^

PETEH DU MOULIN. 93

When shall I drink of the river of thy pleasures ?
I am unworthy of it, O my God ! but thou art
glorified by doing good to the unworthy. It is
not for them who are whole, but for those who
are sick, that thy Son, the great physician, was
sent."

A little before his death, waking about mid
night, he said to a person who attended him, " I
ghall now soon be relieved. I am going to my Fa-
»,her and my God. He has heard me indeed. I
go to him with confidence ; for he has arrayed me
with the robe of his righteousness." — Soon aftei
his, he gently expired ; and his countenance re-
-ained the expression of joy.

4!)J7B'^

SECTION VI.

DR. DONNE. ^

John Donne, an excellent English poet, was
born in the year 1573. He was educated in hi?
father's house till the eleventh year of his ac"e,
when he was sent to the university of Oxford ,
where it was observed of him, that " he was
rather born wise, than raade so by study." He
travelled through Italy and Spain ; where he
made many useful observations, and became well
acquainted with the languages of those countries.
After his return to England, he was solicited to
go into orders, and to accept of a benefice ; but,
at first, he prudently declined this offer for several
reasons ; chiefly, " because some former irregu-
larities of his life had been too notorious not to
expose him to the censure of the world ; and
would, perhaps, bring dishonour upon the sacred
function." He was, however, strenuously urged
by King James the first, with whom he was a great
favourite, to enter into the clerical office : and
after having maturely weighed the subject, and
employed a considerable time in improving him-
self by close study, he complied with the king's
desire. He v;as ordained deacon and priest by
the bishop of London; and soon after was ap
pointed one of the king's chaplains. On the

DR. DONNE. 101

royal recommendation, he was presented with the
degree of Doctor of Divinity, by the university
of Cambridge.

Br. Donne moved in a large circle of friends
and acquaintance. He was much visited and
caressed by the nobility, foreign ministers, and
other persons of distinction. So generally was he
beloved and esteemed, that, within the first year
of entering into orders, he received offers of four-
teen different benefices, from persons of rank.
He preferred, however, settling in London ; and
was made preacher of Lincoln's Inn. About this
time, his domestic happiness suffered a severe
siiock, by the death of a beloved wife, who left
him with a young family of seven children. Some
years after this event, he had a dangerous illness ;
which gave occasion to a work entitled, " Devo-
tions upon Emergent Occasions ;" in which the
fervour of his soul is strongly expressed. He re-
covered from this indisposition ; and lived in
good ht.*alth, till he was seized with a fever in
1 630, after which he began to decline. Foresee-
ing his end, he prepared for it with great resigna-
tion. He was, however, much affected with the
retrospect of life : and on his death-bed, upon ta-
king a solemn leave of his friends,, he made this
sirik'ng declaration to them : " I repent of all my
life, except that part of it, which I spent in com-
munion with God, and in doing good."

SECTION VII.
PHILIP III. KING OF SPAIN.

Philip the Third was born in the year 1577,
and succeeded to the crown of Spain in the 21st
year of his age. Of an inactive disposition, and
averse to the trouble of governing a great king
dom, he committed the whole administration of
affairs to his minister and favourite : and this was
the source of many calamities to his subjects, and
of perplexity and distress to himself.

When this king drew near the end of his days,
he desired, as the last action of his life, to see,
and to bless his children. He told the prince, his
successor, he had sent for him, " that he might
behold the vanity of crowns and tiaras, and learn
to prepare for eternity." He kindly addressed all
his children, gave them his blessing, and dismissed
them with fervent prayers for their happiness, both
here and hereafter.

During the progress of his disorder, he ap-
peared to be greatly disturbed in mind. He made
repeated confessions of his sins, and implorea Di-
vine mercy. He said to those around him, that ne
had often been guilty of dissimulation in matters

PHILIP III. KING OP SPAIN. 103

of government. He deeply regretted his indolence,
and blamed himself much for having devolved the
cares of the state on his ministers. When he
reflected, that he had not, in all things, made the
will of God the rule of his government, he trem-
bled, crying out, at different times : " Oh ! if it
should please Heaven to prolong my life, how
different from the past should be my future con-
duct !" Though the retrospect of his life filled his
mind with bitter regret, and painful apprehensions,
he expressed a hope that, through the merits of the
Redeemer, he should at last be received into the
mansions of the blessed. The affecting expres-
sions of his repentance and devotion, drew tears
from the eyes of those who surrounded him.
The priest who attended him, unwilling to bruise
a broken reed, endeavoured to cheer and compose
his troubled mind, by consolatory views of the
Divine mercy, and the assurances which the Gos-
pel affords, of assistance to the weak, and of par-
don to the penitent. At length, the alternate
tumult of hope and fear, which had so greatly agi-
tated his mind, subsided into a gentle calm ; and
he died peacefully, in the 43d year of his life, and
the 23d of his reign.

SECTION VIII.
CATHARINE BRETTERG.

Catharine Bretterg was born in Cheshire,
about the year 1580, and was the daugliter of
John Bruen, Esq., of Bruen Stapleford. From
a child, she was much employed in reading the
Holy Scriptures, which she found of great use
and comfort to her. She was moderate and sober
in the enjoyment of the good things of this life ;
and carefully avoided the vain pleasures and
fashions, in Avhich many greatly delight them-
selves. The society of religious people was
very comfortable and pleasant to her; and it
appears that, from her childhood to the end of
her days, she was concerned to live in the fear
of God, and to walk before him with a perfect
heart.

This excellent woman, in the beginning of her
last sickness, was permitted to labour under
great exercise and conflict of spirit : but she
was mercifully supported under this trial; and

CATHARINE BRETTERO. 105

the victory was, in due time, graciously given
to licr.

Her dcpendance on the Fountain of Wisdom
and Slreiiglh, for rehef from this trying state of
mind, is evidenced by the following pious and
fervent prayer : " O Lord God of my salvation,
help my weakness ; plead thou my cause, O God
of Truth, for in thee do I trust ! 0 blessed Saviour,
perfect the Vv^ork, I humbly beseech thee, which
thou hast begun in me."

At another time, after she had experienced
deliverance from this conflict, she expressed her-
self in the following manner : " Oh, my God,
blessed be thy name for evermore, who hast
shown me the path of life. Thou didst, O Lord,
hide thy face from me for a little season, but
with everlasting mercy thou hast had compas-
sion on me. And now, blessed Lord, thy com-
forting presence is come ; yea, Lord, thou hast
had respect to thy handmaid, and art come with
fulness of joy and abundance of consolation."

When she was near her end, her strength and
voice being very feeble, she lifted up her eyes,
and with a sweet countenance, and still voice,
said ; " My warfare is accomplished, and my
iniquities are pardoned. Lord, whom have I in

106 CATHARINE BRETTERQ.

heaven but thee ? And I have none on earth be-
sides thee. My flesh faileth, and my heart also ;
but God is tlic strength of my heart, and my por-
tion for ever. He that preserveth Jacob, and de-
fendetli Israel, is my God, and will guide me unto
death. Direct me, O Lord my God, and keep my
soul in safety."

Soon after she had expressed these words, sho
yielded up her soul in peace to her Creator.

SECTION IX.

OXENSTIERN.

OxENSTiERN, chaiicellor of Sweden, was a man
of great abilities, and uncorrupted integrity. On
the accession of Christina to the crown of Swe-
den, the regency, during her minority, devolved
upon him and four others : but so great was their
confidence in Oxenstiern, that he was invested
with the chief management of affairs ; and he con-
ducted himself with singular wisdom and upright-
ness. In the great schemes which he formed for
the interest of his country, he was very success-
ful ; and was highly esteemed, not only by his
countrymen, but by the most eminent persons in
Europe.

This great statesman spent a part of his time
in retirement, from which he derived the highest
advantage. In his retreat, he was visited by
VVhitelocke, ambassador from England to Queen
Christina ; and in the conclusion of their dis-
course, he made the following very interesting
observations : — " I have seen much, and enjoyed
much, of this world ; but I never knew how to live
till now. I thank my good God, who has given

108 OXENSTIERK.

me time to know liim, and to know myself. All
the comfort I have, and which is more than the
wliole world can give, is, fcehng the good spirit of
God in my heart, and reading in this good book,
(holding up the Bible,) that came from it."

Tins enlightened and experienced man then
addressed the ambassador, as follows : " You are
now in the prime of your age and vigour, and in
great favour and business : but all this will leave
you, and you will one day better understand and
relish what I say. You will then find, that there
is more wisdom, truth, comfort, and pleasure, in
retiring, and in turning your heart from the world,
to the good Spirit of God, and in reading the
Bible, than in all the courts, and favours of
princes."

The preceding account is given by William
Penn, who says he had it, more than once, from
the ambassador himself. The sentiments expres-
sed by Oxenstiern are particularly interesting,
if we reflect, that they came from one of the
greatest and wisest men of the age, when his
mind and body were sound and vigorous, and
when he was best able to judge of human life,
and of the happiness which is to be derived from
religion.

SECTION X.
HUGO GROTIUS.

Hugo Grotius was born in Holland, in the
year 1583. He possessed lire most jinp{)y dis^po-
sition, a profound genius, a solid judgnieiil, and
a wonderful mennory. These exlraordiiiaiy na-
tural endowments had all the advanlaiics that
education could give ihem ; and he was so hap})y
a? to find, in his own father, a pious and an able
inslructer, who formed his mind and his morals.
Before he was fifteen, he maintained public theses
in mathematics, philosophy, and law, with the
highest applause : and he ventured to form plans
that required very great learning, but which he
executed in so finished a manner, that the rcpuhlir
of letters were struck with astonishment.

He strenuously engaged in the controversies
respecting religious opinions, which, at that lime,
occupied the lea'-ned wci\ of the Uiiiled Stales :
and the part which he took in those disputes, in-
volved him in great trouble and pcrplcxiiy. He
afterwards became the queen of Sweden's ainbas-
sador at Paris. This dignity, however, was not
agfceable to a man of his turn of mind. His

110 HUGO GROTIUS,

sentiments respecting it, are contained in a letter
•which he wrote to his father from Paris. " I am,"^
says he, "really quite tired out with honours.
A private and a quiet life alone has charms for
me ; and I should be very happy, if I were in a
situation, in which I could employ myself upon
works of piety, and works that might be useful to
posterity."

He had the highest respect for religion and
virtue, in whatever condition of life they were
found : and how much he preferred them to all
that the world could bestow, appears from the
following declaration : "I would give all my
learning and honoin:, for the plain integrity of
John Urick, a poor man of great piety, who spent
eight hours of his time in prayer, eight in labour,
and but eight in meals,, sleep, and other neces-
saries "

To one who admh'ed his great industry, he re-
turned an answer, to this effect : " Ah ! I have
consumed much of my life, in laboriously doing
nothing." And to another who inquired of him,
what course of life he would advise him to take,
he solemnly answered, " Be serious."'

In his last sickness, which was of short duration,
he appears to have been tranquil, and resigned to
the will of God. He expressed his faith in Jesus

HUGO GROTIUS. Ill

Christ, and declared that his hope rested upon
him. To one who mentioned to him the pubhcan
spoken of in the gospel, he humbly replied, " T
am that publican ;" and soon after expired.

Grotius, notwithstanding the embassies and
other public business in which he was employed,
composed a great number of excellent and much
admired works ; the principal of which are, " A
Treatise on the Rights of Peace and War ;" " A
Treatise on the Truth of the Christian Religion ;"
" Commentaries on the Holy Scriptures ;" and
" The History and Annals of Holland." He ap-
pears to have laboured much for the benefit of his
fellow-creatures ; and we trust that his expressions
of regret, respecting the employment of his time,
proceeded from the humble state of his mind, and
not from the consciousness of having neglected
any important duties of life.

When great talents and learning are, from
pure motives, and in true humility, consecrated
to the service of truth and religion, they become
acceptable oiTerings to our Divine Benefactor, and
often eminently promote the good of mankind
But when we misapply these qualifications, suffer
them to nourish pride and vanity, or attribute to
them an efficacy in producing virtue and happi-
ness that does not necessarily belong to them ,
they occasion an unhappy waste of our time, and

112 HUGO GROTIUS.

lay the foundation for bitter regret in the winding
up of life.

The worth and importance of those advan-
tages are lamentably overrated, if our estimation
of them is so high, and our pursuit so ardent,
as to dispose us to undervalue, or disregard, that
most solemn injunction of our Lord : " Seek ye,
first," (early, and in preference to all other things,)
"the kingdom of God, and his righteousness:"
lemembering that this is "the one thinrr needful."

. Whilst the mind is occupied with the variety
and intricacy of speculation and literary engage-
ments, and tlie heart elated with the flattering
distinctions which they produce, we may not suf
ficiently perceive the importance of this Divnie
injunction: but when the close of our day ap-
proaches, and the retrospect of life is made ;
when the ardour of pursuit has abated, and the
rlel usions of vanity and passion are at an end ;
we sliall form a true estimate of the worth of all
sublunary attainments and possessions. We shall
then, if not before, perceive that, to have our
conversation in the world with simplicity and
uprightness : to receive the truths of the gospel
witli meekness and cordiality ; to be pure and
Inunble in heart; to love our neighbours as our-
selves, and God above all things ; and, by these

HUGO GROTIUS. 113

means, to secure an incorruptible and immortal
inheritance ; are attainments of infinitely greater
moment, than all the accomplishments of mind
and body, and all the possessions and honours,
that this world can bestow.

As it is, therefore, our highest wisdom, may it
also be our greatest concern, seasonably to anti-
cipate these reflections ; and so to temper and
regulate all our studies, and all the engagements
of this life, that they may coincide with and pro-
mote the groat end of our being !

10*

,cucl to the

*■

■^-.2'S^

SECTION XI.
JOHN SELDEN.

John Selden, a native of Sussex, was born in
the year 1584. He was profoundly learned, and
skilled in the Hebrew and oriental languages,
beyond any man of his time. Grotius styles him
the glory of the English nation. His mind also
was as great as his learning. He was hospitable,
generous, and charitable ; he took great delight
in doing good, and in communicating his know-
ledge : above all, he was a sincere and eminent
Christian.

The earl of Clarendon, who was the intimate
friend of Selden, speaks of him thus : " Mr
Selden was a person, whom no character can
flatter, or transmit in any expressions equal to
his merit and virtue. He was of such stupen
dous learning, in all kinds and in all languages,
that a man would have thought he had been en-
tirely conversant among books, and had never
spent an hour but in reading or writing : yet his
humanity, courtesy, and affability, were sucli,
that he would have been thought to have been
h^-'A in the best courts. His good nature,
selves, ancnd delight in doing good, and in com-

he knew, exceeded that breeding.

JOHN SELDEN. 113

In his conversation, he was the most clear dis-
course!, and had the best faculty in making hard
things easy, and present to the understanding, of
any man that hath been known."

This eminent scholar and Christian, when he
was near the end of his days, declared, in a con-
ference with Archbishop Usher, that, " though he
had been very laborious in his literary inquiries,
ana had possessed himself of a great number of
valuable books and manuscripts, upon all ancient
subjects ; yet he could rest the happiness of his
soul on none of them, except the Holy Scrip-
tures. He said that the following passage, in a
very particular manner, affected his mind : " The
grace of God, which bringeth salvation, hath ap-
peared unto all men ; teaching us, that denying
ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live
soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present
world ; looking for that blessed hope and glorious
appearing of the great God, and our Saviour Jesus
Christ ; who gave himself for us, that he might
redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto 'him-
self a peculiar people, zealous of good works."
This is, indeed, a most important and interesting
declaration. It sets forth the universal love of
God ; the various duties of men, with the means
of performing them; the redemption from sin
through Jesus Christ ; and a glorious reward to the
faithful hereafter. >

SECTION XII.
CARDINAL RICHELIEU.

Richelieu, an eminent cardinal and ininrster
of stale in France, was born of a noble family at
ihc casile of Richelieu, in the year 1585. Being
a man of prodigious capacity, and of a restless
and insatiable ambition, he formed vast designs,
wJiiiCk made his life a series of agitations and per-
plexities. He found himself frequently under the
necessity of opposing the grandees of tlie king-
dom, the royal family, the whole house of Austria,
and even Louis XIII. himself. Amidst his great-
est and most arduous concerns, lie did not neglect
to cultivate literature, and to show himself a pa-
tron of men of letters. He manifested a particular
regai'd for persons of the religious orders ; and
advanced those who were most remarkable for
their abilities and virtues. He made many friends,
and many enemies ; but his consummate policy
enabled him to triumph over all the machinations
of his opponents.

Wlien this great statesman approached the con-
clusion of his time, he became very serious ; and
acknowledged to Peter du Moulin, the celebrated

CARDINAL RICHELIEU, 117

French protestant, that he had often been hurried
into measures which his conscience disapproved.
'* That he had been urged into many irregularities,
by what is called, state policy ; that as he could
not tell how to satisfy his conscience for these de-
viations from rectitude, he had many temptations
to disbelieve the existence of a God, a future state,
and the immortality of the soul ; and, by these
means, to quiet the upbraidings of his mind. But
in vain. So stronfr was the idea of God in his
soul ; so clear the impression of him upon the
frame of the world ; so unanimous the consent of
mankind ; and so powerful the convictions of his
own conscience ; that he could not avoid feeling
the necessity of admitting a Supreme Being, and
a future state : and he wished to live as one that
must die ; and to die, as one that must hve for
ever."

Tiie serious state of his mind increased, as he
drew near his last hour. A person who came to
see him, inquired, " why he was so sad :" the car-
dinal replied : " The soul is a serious thing : it
must either be sad here for a moment, or be sad
for ever."

He died in 1642, amidst storms and perils, be-
fore he had completed his designs ; leaving behind
him a name, splendid indeed, but, by no means,
dear and venerable.

SECTION XIII.
LORD HARRINGTON.

John, Lord Harrington, was the son of that
Lord Harrington to whom King James the first
committed the education of his eldest daughter
the princess EUzabeth.

He possessed excellent natural endowments
and a considerable stock of useful learning ; but
the great concern of his mind was, to become
learned in the school of Christ, and to provide for
an immortal inheritance. He manifested a princi
pie of real charity in his heart, by his love to all
who were truly religious. And so great was his
compassion for his fellow-creatures in necessity,
that he gave the tenth part of his yearly income
to charitable uses.

At the beginning of his last sickness, he strongly
apprehended that he should not recover ; and
therefore calmly prepared for death. He declared
his faith in Christ, and his undoubted hope of
salvation by him : and said, with much cheerful
ness, " I fear not death, in what shape soever it
may assail me."

LORD HARRINGTON. 119

Many excellent things were expressed by him,
during his illness. He greatly desired to depart
this lif3, that he might be at home with his Lord
and Saviour. About two hours before his death,
he declared, that " he still felt the comfort and
joys of assured salvation, by Christ Jesus." And
when the time of his departure w^as come, he
said, " 0, that joy ! O, my God ! when shall I be
with thee ?" And with the like words, expressive
of a tender, heavenly frame of mind, he peacefully
expired, in the twenty-third year of his age.

SECTION XIT.

SALMASIUS.

Salmasius, of an ancient and noble family m
France, was born in llic year 1596. He was a
man of very extraordinary abilities, and profouiid
cruditiov\. He was knowing in almost every
thing ; in school divinity, in law, in philosophy,
in criticism ; and he was so consummate a linguist,
that there was scarcely a language in which he
had not attained a considerable proficiency. He
was perfect in Greek and Laiin : he understood
the Hebrew, Arabic, Persic, Egyptian, Chinese,
&c., and he was well acquainted with alL the
European languages.

His works are veiy numerous, and on various
subjects. They gained him as much fame a3
strong powers and vast erudition can procm*e.
His name was sounded throughout Europe ; and
he had great offers from foreign princes, and uni-
versities. The Venetians thought his residence
among them wonld be such an honour, that they
offered him a prodigious stipend : the university
of Oxford made some attempts to get him into
England; and the pope invited him to settle at
Rome. Cardinal Richelieu used all possible

8ALMASIITS. 121

means to detain him in France, even desiring him
to make his own terms ; and Christina, queen of
Sweden, showed him extraordinary marks of es-
teem and regard.

When this celebrated man arrived at the even-
ing of Hfe, and found leisure to reflect seriously
on the great end of his being, he acknowledged
tiiMl he had too much, and too earnestly, engaged
ill literary pursuits ; and had greatly overlooked
those objects in which true and solid happiness
consists. " Oh !" said he, " I have lost an im-
mense portion of time ; time, that most precious
thing in the world ! Had I but one year more, it
should be spent in studying David*s psalms, and
Paul's epistles." *' Oh ! sirs," said he to ihose
about him, " mind the world less, and God more
* The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom ; and to
depart from evil, that is understanding.' "

CHAPTER IV.

Cardinal Mazarine — Bulstrode Whitelocke — Anna Maria
Schurman — Sir Matthew Hale — Du Renti — Princess
Elizabeth — William Mompesson — Admiral Penn.

SECTION. I.

CARDINAL MAZARINE.

Julius Mazarine, a famous cardinal and prime
minister of France, was born in the kingdom of
Naples, in the year 1602. The greatness of his
abilities was conspicuous, even in his early years ;
and he had the advantage of being instructed by
a very able tutor. He studied the interests of the
various states in Italy, and of the kingdoms of
France and Spain ; and became profoundly skilled
in politics. It was through the interest of Cardi-
nal Richelieu, that he was introduced into the
French cabinet. That cardinal made him one of
the executors of his will ; and during the minority
of Louis XIV. he had the charge of public affairs.
His high station and great abilities, excited the
envy of the nobility of France ; and this occa
sioned a civil war that continued several years.
Mazarine was, at last, forced to retire ; a price

CARDINAL MAZARINE. 123

was set on his head; and even his fine library-
was sold. But this disgrace did not long con-
tinue. Mazarine returned to the court with more
honour than he had ever enjoyed ; and conducted
the affairs of the kingdom with so much ability
and success, that he obtained the French king's
most unreserved confidence. He possessecl, in
an eminent degree, the power of discovering the
dispositions and views of men; and of assuming
a character adapted to circumstances.

He was a man of great ambition, and pursued
with ardour the chase of worldly honours. But,
a short time before his death, he perceived the
vanity of his pursuit, and lamented the misap-
plication of his time and talents. He was greatly
afiected with the prospect of his dissolution, and
the uncertainty of his future condition. This
made him cry out : " Oh, my poor soul ! what will
become of thee ? Whither wilt thou go ?'*

To the queen dowager of France, who came to
visit him in his illness, and who had been his
friend at court, he expressed himself in these
terms * " Madam, your favours have undone me.
Were I to live again, I would be a capuchin,
rather than a courtier."

SECTION II.

BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE.

HuLSTRODE WiiTTELocKE WRs clcsccndctl from
a good family in Berkshire, and born in the year
1605. He possessed strong mental powers, which
were highly improved by education, study, and
business. He was advanced to several stations of
the greatest trust and importance, both at home
and abroad, and acquitted himself in them all to
the satisfaction of his employers. Whilst lie was
ambassador at the court of Sweden, he was par-
ticularly honoured by Queen Christina.

In the latter part of his life, he withdrew from
public affairs, and resided in the country till his
death. In his retirement, he was visited by a
friend, to whom, after making many serious ob
servations, he expressed himself in the following
manner: "I have ever thought there has been
one true religion in the world : and that is the
work of the Spirit of God in the hearts and souls
of men. There have been, indeed, many dis-
pensations of God, suited to his own wise ends,
and adapted to the low and uncertain state of
man in the world. But the old world had the Spirit

BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE. 125

of God, for it strove with them ; and the new
world has had the Spirit of God, both Jew and
Gentile ; and it strives with all ; and they who have
been led by it, have been the good people in every
dispensation of God to mankind. I myself must
say, that I have felt it from a child convincing me
of my evil and vanity. It has often given me a
true measure of this poor world, and some tasle of
Divine things ; and it is my grief that I did not ear-
lier apply my soul to it. I can say, that, since
my retirement from the greatness and hurries of
the world, I have felt something of the work and
comfort of it ; and I am persuaded that it is both
ready and able to instruct, and lead, and preserve,
those who will humbly and sincerely regard it.
So that my religion is, the good Spirit of God in
my icart ; I mean, what that has wrought in me,
and for me."

SECTION III.
ANNA MARIA SCHURMAN.

Anna Maria Schurman, of a noble protestant
family in Germany, was born at Cologne, in the
year 1607. The powers of her mind were very
great, and she employed them in the acquisition
of a large stock of literature. She was skilled in
many languages ; and the Latin, Greek, and
Hebrew, were so familiar to her, that she not
only \vrote, but spoke them fluently, to the sur
prise of the most learned men. She had also
a competent knowledge of the liberal arts and
sciences ; and was held in high reputation by
several persons of the greatest learning in her
time.

In the latter part of her life, the religious tem-
per of her mind increasing, she set little value on
all the honour she had acquired, by her extraor-
dinary accomplishments ; and became zealously
concerned to obtain the favour of God, as the
richest treasure, and the highest of all enjoy-
ments. After this change of views and senti-
ments, she wrote an account of her hfe in Latin;
in which she mentions some remarkable circum-

ANNA MAHIA SCHURMAN. 127

Stances concerning herself, emd several devout
persons with whom she was connected.

During her last illness, she declared her full
satisfaction in the religious choice she had made.
After suffering much from the disorder, she ex-
pressed herself in the following manner : " I have
proceeded one step further towards eternity, and
if the Lord shall please to increase my pains, it
will be no cause of sorrow : the will of my God
IS all to me ; I follow him. How good is it to be
in the hands of God ! But it will be still better for
me, when I shall enjoy more full communion with
him, among the children of God, in the abodes
of the blessed. I have nothing more to desire in
this world."

In the last night of her life, she said to one
who watched with her : " I am almost continually
impressed with a sentiment of this nature : ' A
Christian must suffer.' This sentiment comforts
me in my pains ; and supports me that I faint
not. — 0 how good it is to remain in silence and
patience before God ! My most beneficent Father
has not dealt witn me, as with his servant Job,
wliose friends were with him seven days in silence,
and then, addressed him with bitter words. But
how sweet and comfortable are the impressions
which I feel !"

SECTION IV.
SIR MATTHEW HALE-

Sir Matthew Hale, lord chief justice of
England, was born in Gloucestershire, in the yeni
1609. Before he was six years old, he lost both
his parents : but by the care of a judicious guard-
ian, great attention was paid to his education.
When he had completed his studies at Oxford, he
quitted the university, with an intention of going
into the army ; but, on the persuasion of sergeant
Glanvill, he entered at Lincoln's Inn ; and, with
great vigour, and almost unexampled application,
bent his mind to the studies of his profession.

In early life, he was fond of company, and fell
into many levhies and extravagances. But this
propensity and conduct were corrected by a cir-
cumstance, that made a considerable impression
on his mind, during the rest of his life. Being
one day in company with other young, men, one
of the party, through excess of wine, fell down,
apparently dead at their feet. Young Hale was
so affected on this occasion, that he immediately

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 129

retired to another room; and, shutting the door,
fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly to God,
that his friend might be restored to hfe, and that
he himself might be pardoned for having given
countenance to so much excess. At the same
time, he made a solemn vow, that he would never
again keep company in that manner, nor " drink
a health," while he lived. His friend recovered,
and Hale religiously observed his vow. — After this
event, there was an entire change in his disposi-
tion : he forsook all dissipated company, and was
carefid to divide his time between the duties of
religion, and the studies of his profession. He
became remarkable for a grave and exemplary
deportment, great moderation of temper, and a
religious tenderness of spirit ; and these virtues
appear to have accompanied him through the whole
of his life.

The following extract from a diary which he
regularly kept, shows the piety of his mind, and
how solicitous he was to make the best use of his
time.

MORNING.

1. To lift np the heart to God in lliankfulness
for renewing my life.

2. To renew my covenant with God in Cln-iit,
First, by renewed acts of faith receiving Ciirist,

130 SIR MATTHEW HALE.

and rejoicing in the height of that relation : sec-
ondly, by resolving to be one of his people, and
•rloing him allegiance.

'^. Adoration and prayer.

DAY EMPLOYMENT.

There must be an employment of two kinds.

1. Our ordinary calling, to serve God in it. It
is a service to Christ, though ever so mean. Here
observe faithfulness, diligence, cheerfulness. Not
to overcharge myself with more business than I
can bear.

2. Our spiritual employments. Mingle some-
what of God's immediate service in the day.

IF ALONE.

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

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

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 131

COMPANY.

Bo good to them. Use God's name reverently.
Beware of leaving an ill impression, or ill example.
Receive good from them, if they are more know-
ing.

EVENING.

Cast up the accounts of the day. If there was
aught amiss, beg pardon ; resolve to be more vigi-
lant. If thou hast done well, bless the mercy and
grace of God, which have supported thee.

Thus did this excellent man occupy himself in
the service of God, at the same time that he was
making great progress in the study of the sciences,
and particularly in that of the law, in which he
became a greater proficient than any of his con-
temporaries.

In the duties of his office as a judge, he cOn
ducted himself with the greatest integrity. The
motives which influenced him to the faithful dis-
charge of these duties, were founded on the only
firm basis — that of religion. This will appear
by an extract from one of his papers, entitled,
" Things to be had in continual remembrance."

132 SIR MATTHEW HALE,

Among a numerous list of lliese, are the follow |
ing. " That, in the administration of justice, I
am intrusted for God, the king, and the country :
and therefore that it be done uprightly, dchbe-
rately, resolutely. — That I rest not upon my own
direction and strength ; but implore and rest
upon the direction and strength of God. — That,
in the execution of justice, I carefully lay aside
my own passions, and give not way to tliem,
however provoked.— -That I be not biased with
compassion to the poor, or favour to the ricli, ir
point of justice. — That popular or court applause
or dislike, have no influence in any thing 1 do in
the distribution of justice. That I be not solicil-
ous about what men think or say, so long as 1
keep myself exactly according to the rules of
justice."

The writings of Sir Matthew Hale, on religious
subjects, particularly his " Contemplations Moral
and Divine," manifest a truly humble frame of
mind ; and contain a seriousness and fervency,
well adapted to excite kindred emotions in the
breast of the reader. We shall select a few of
these, as testimonies which this great and good
man bore to the power and efficacy of religion,
as the guide, support, and comfort of our Jives.

" True religion," says he, " teaches tlie soul
a high veneration for Almighty God; a sincere

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 133

and upright walking, as in the presence of the in
visible, all seeing God. It makes a man truly love,
honour, and obey him, and therefore careful to
know what his will is. It renders the heart highly
thankful to him, as his Creator, Redeemer, and
Benefactor. It makes a man entirely depend on
him, seek him for guidance, direction, and pro-
tection, and submit to his will with patience and
resignation of soul. It gives the law, not only to
his words and actions, but to his very thoughts
and purposes ; so that he dares not entertain any
which are unbecoming the presence of that God,
by whom all our thoughts are legible. It crushes
all pride and haughtiness, both in a man's heart
and carriage, and gives him an humble state of mind
before God and men. It regulates the passions,
and brings them into due moderation. It gives a
man a right estimate of this present world, and
sets his heart and hopes above it ; so that he never
joves it more than it deserves. It makes the
wealth, and the glory of this world, hi£rh places, and
great preferments, but of little consequence to
him ; so that he is neither covetous, nor ambitious,
nor over-solicitous, concerning the advantages of
them. It makes him value the love of God and
the peace of his own conscience, above all the
wealth and honour in the world, and to be very
diligent in preserving them. He performs all his
duties to God with sincerity and constancy : and,
whilst he lives on earth, his QpjXYxersation, his

134 KIR MATTHEW HALE.

hope, his treasures, are in heaven ; and he endear
OUTS to walk suitably to such a hope."

His sentiments, respecting the inward direction
and assistance of the Spirit of God to the soul, and
his Holy Presence there, are deeply interesting.

" They who truly fear God, have a secret
guidance from a higher wisdom than what is
barely human, namely, the Spirit of truth and
wisdom ; which does really, though secretly, pre-
vent and direct them. Any man that sincerely
and truly fears Almighty God, and calls and relies
upon him for his direction, has it as really as a
son has the counsel and direction of his father •
and though the voice is not audible, yet it is
equally as real, as if a man heard a voice saying,
* This is the way, walk in it.'

" Though this secret direction of Almighty God
. is principally seen in matters relating to the good
of the soul ; yet, in the great and momentous
concerns of this life, a good man, fearing God and
begging his direction, will very often, if not at all
times, find it. I can call my own experience to
witness, that, even in the external actions, occur-
rences, and incidents, of my whole life, I have
never been disappointed of the best direction,
when I have, in humility, and a sense af my own
deficiency, sincerely implored it.

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 135

" God sees the most secret chambers of our
hearts. All the guests that are there, even our
most intimate thoughts and purposes, and much
more our most retired actions, are as legible to
him, as if they were graved in brass.

"Are our hearts solicited by any object; by
ourselves or by the persuasions of others, or by
the suggestions of Satan; to impure speculations
or sinful resolutions, to proud or arrogant con-
ceptions of ourselves, to revengeful, uncharitable,
or forbidden desires, to vain and unprofitable
imaginations ; let us reflect that these thoughts
(which even natural modesty or prudence, would
shame us to express before mortal man) are all
naked and manifest before the great and holy
God. And dare we entertain such guests wdiere
our Creator is present ? in that place in which the
Lord of Heaven is pleased, most justly and most
mercifully to claim as his own ? Consider — it is
our Judge that sees us : it is the great Creator,
before whom the angels of heaven veil their faces,
not being able to behold his glory : and, which is
more than all this to an ingenuous nature, it is
He to whom we owe ourselves and all that we are,
lie to whom we have given up our names, and
who has purchased our souls from destruction by
the blood of his Son.

" Again : Is the God of heaven an eyewitness of

136 SIR MATTHEW HALE.

our conduct, when either by ourselves, or by
others, we are soUcited to evil ?-let us take cour
age to resist this temptation, because our Creator
sees us ; because our Lord stands by, to observe,
and to reward us, in our opposition. To be able to
hear, in our own consciences, the approving voice
of the Lord of heaven beholding us, and saying •

* Well done, good and faithful servant,' v/ould bo
enough to outweigh all our obedience, though it
were possible to separate it from what follows : —

* Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'

5 3>

The following reflections on the vicissitudes of
human affairs, and on the benefits to be derived
from duly coi.sidering them, are highly important
and instructive : —

" Li the course of my life, I have been in as
many stations and places as most men. I have
experienced almost continual motion ; and al-
though, of all earthly things, I have most desired
rest, and a fixed private station, yet the various
changes that I have seen and found, the pubhc
employments that, without my seeking, and
against my inclination, have been put upon me,
and many other interventions, as well private
as public, have made it literally my experience,
that I have here no continuing city. Wlien
I had designed for myself a settled mansion in
one place, and had fitted it to my convenience

SIR MATTHEW HALE. 137

and repose, I have been presently constrained,
by my necessary employments, to leave it, and
repair to another : and when again I thought
to find repose there, and had suited it to my con-
venience, some other necessary occurrences have
diverted me from it. And thus, my dwellings
have been like so many inns to a traveller, of
longer continuance, indeed, but of almost equal
instability.

" This unsettledness of station, though trouble-
some, has given me a good and practical moral ;
namely, that I must not expect my rest in this
lower world ; but must consider it as the place
of my journey and pilgrimage, and look further
for true repose and happiness. And truly, when
I reflect, that it has been the wisdom of Almighty
God, to exercise, with this kind of discipline,
those worthies whom he has exhibited as patterns
to the rest of mankind, I have no reason to com-
plain of it, as a difficulty or an inconvenience ; but
to be thankful to him, for it, as an instruction and
document, to put me in remembrance of a better
home, and to incite me to make a due provision
for it; even that everlasting rest which he has
provided for them that love him : it is his gracious
design, by pouring me thus from vessel to vessel,
to keep me from fixing myself too much upon this
"[vorld below.

12*

138 BIR MATTHEW HALE.

" But the truth is, did we consider this hfe as
becomes us, even as wise men, we might easily
find, without the help of such discipline, that the
world below, neither was intended for, nor indeed
can be, a place of rest : but that it is only a labo-
ratory to fit and prepare the souls of the cliildren
of men, for a better and more abiding state ; a
school, to exercise and train us up in habits of
patience and obedience, till we are fitted for an
other station ; a little narrow nursery, wherein we
may be dressed and pruned, till we are fit to be
transplanted into paradise

" The shortness of our lives, and the continua
troubles, sicknesses, and calamities, that attena
them ; and the instances of mortality of all ages,
sexes, and conditions of mankind, are sufficient
to convince reasonable men, who have the seri-
ousness and patience to consider and observe,
that we have no abiding city here. And on the
other side, if we will but give ourselves leisure to
consider the great wisdom of Almighty God, who
adapts every thing in the world to suitable ends ;
the excellence of the soul and mind of man ; the
great advances and improvements his nature is
capable of; the admirable means which the mer-
ciful and wise God has afforded mankind, by his
works of nature and providence, by his word and
instructions, to qualify them for a nobler life than
this world can yield; we shall readily confess,

£m MATTHEW HALE. 139

that there is another state, another city to come,
v/hich it becomes every good, and wise, and con
siderate man, to look after and fit himself for.
And yet, if we regard the generality" of mankind
with due consideratioh, they will appear to be a
company of distempered people. The greater part
of them make it their whole business to provide
for rest and happiness in this world ; they make
the acquisition of wealth and honour, and the pre-
ferments and pleasures of life, their great, if not
their only business and happiness ; and, w^hich is
yet a higher degree of phrensy, they esteem this
the only wisdom ; and think that the careful pro*
vision for eternity, is the folly of a few weak,
melancholy, fanciful men : whereas, it is a truth,
and in due time it will evidently appear, that those
men only, who are solicitous for the attaining of
their everlasting rest, are the truly wise men ; and
shall be acknowledged to be so, by those who now
despise them. * We fools accounted his life mad-
ness, and his end to be without honour. How is
he numbered among the children of God, and hia
lot is among the saints I' "

Tliis eminent and virtuous man possessed unin-
terrupted health, till near the sixty-sixth year of
his age. At this period he was affected with an
indisposition which, in a short time, greatly im-
paired his strength : and he found himself so unfit
to discharge the duty of justice of the kings

240 SIR MATTHEW HALE.

bench, that he was obliged to resign the office
" He continued, however," says Bishop Burnet,
" to retire frequently for his devotions and studies.
As long as he could go himself, he went regularly
to his retirement; and when his infirmities in
creased so that he was not able to walk to the
place, he made his servants carry him thither in a
chair. At last, as the winter came on, he saw
with great joy his deliverance approaching : for
besides his being weary of the world, and his long-
ings for the blessedness of another state, his pains
increased so much, that no patience inferior to his
could have borne them, without great uneasiness
of mind. Yet he expressea to the last, such sub-
mission to the will of God, and so equal a temper,
that the powerful effects of Christianity were evi-
dent, in the support which he derived from it, un^
der so heavy a load..

**He continued to enjoy the free use of his
reason and senses to the latest moment of life.
This he had often and earnestly prayed for, du
ring his last sickness. When his voice was so sunk
that he could not be heard, his friends perceived^
by the almost constant lifting up of his eyes and
hands, that he was still aspiring towards that bless
ed state, of which he was now to be speedily pos-
sessed. He had no struggles, nor seemed to be
in any pangs in his last moments. He breathed
out his righteous and pious soul in peace '^

SECTION V.
DU RENTI.

Du Renti was a young nobleman of France,
iftot more distinguished by his high birth, than
b}' the excellent talents and quahfications of his
mind. This accom-phshed youth, influenced by
a strong sense of the vanity of worldly grandeur,
and by an ardent desire to enjoy the comfort of
a retired and religious life, believed it incumbent
upon him to relinquish all his honours, and to with-
draw from scenes, which he feared would ensnare
and corrupt his heart.

The following extracts from his views and sen-
timents, respecting these subjects, demonstrate, that
his mind was much redeemed from the spirit and
enjoyments of this world ; and that he endeavoured,
above all things, to obtain a holy and devout
temper of heart, and to conduct himself acceptably
in the Divide Sisiht.

" When I gave up my liberty to God, I perceiv-
ed to what a state of deep humiliation the soul
must be brought, to render it capable of union
with him. The splendour and vain enjoyments
of this transitory scene, are great encumbrances
to me, in my endeavours to obtain the favour of
God ; of which, therefore, his pleasure is that I

142 DTJ RENTI.

should be stripped, in order to attain that state of
humility and poorness of spirit, which will bring
me into possession of real honour and solid riches.

" I find no security in any state, but in that of
dying to the world, and in true self-abasement : this
is to be baptized into Christ's death, and to live
the life of Christian self-denial. All that can be
imagined to befall us in this lower world, is com-
paratively of small consequence, though it were the
losing of all our possessions. Had we but a little
faith, and a little love, how happy should we find
ourselves, in being willing to resign up every
thing ; and in saying. My God, and my All /"

How conformable are these sentiments to tho
Divine injunctions, " Love not the world, not
the things that are in the world." — " But be ye
transformed by the renewing of your mind." Il
is, indeed, a holy and happy state, to be living
above the world, and pressing after perfection, at
the same time that w^e gratefully acknowledge
Divine Goodness, in providing for our necessities
during our passage through life. This supreme
love of God, and desire to be united to him,
though often cherished by retirem.ent, is not a
solitary and inactive principle. It not only purifies
and exalts our minds, but it expands them towards
our fellow creatures, and leads us into acts of u
versal charity.

SECTION TI. -'■ • '"•.:''•

PRINCESS ELIZABETH.

Princess Elizabeth, of the Rhine, was boni in
the year 1620. She was the eldest daughter of
Frederic V., elector palatine and king of Bohemia,
by Elizabeth, daughter of James the First, king of
England. This excellent princess posse'ssed only
a small territory; but she governed it with great
judgment, and attention to the happiness of her
subjects. She made it a rule to hear, one day in
the week, all such causes as were brought before
her. On these occasions, her wisdom, justice,
and moderation, were very conspicuous. She
frequently remitted forfeitures, in cases w^here
the parties were poor, or in any respect worthy of
favour. It was remarkable that she often intro-
duced religious considerations, as motives to per-
suade the contending parties to harmony and
peace. She was greatly beloved and respected
by her subjects ; and also by many persons of
"learning and virtue not resident in her dominions :
for she patronized men of this character, whatever
might be their country, or their religious profes-
sion.

In the year 1 677, the celebrated William Penn
paid her a visit ; and was treated by her with
great respect. The following account of her ia
taken from his works : —

144 PRINCESS ELIZABETH.

" The meekness and humility of the pnncess
appeared to me extraordinary: she did not con
sider the quahty, but the merit of the people
she entertained. Did she hear of a retired man,
seeking after the knowledge of a better world,
slie was sure to set him down in the catalogue of
her charity, if he wanted it. I have casually
seen, I believe, fifty tokens of her benevolerxe,
sealed and directed to the several poor subjects of
her bounty, whose distance prevented them from
being personally known to her. Thus, though
she kept no sumptuous table in her own court,
she spread the tables of the poor in their solitary
cells ; breaking bread to virtuous pilgrims, accord-
ing to their want and her ability.

" She was abstemious in her living ; and in ap*
parel void of all vain ornaments. I must needs
say, that her mind had a noble prospect : her eye
was to a better and more lasting inheritance, than
can be found below. This made her not over-
rate the honours of her station, or the learning of
the schools, of which she was an excellent judge.
Being once at Hamburgh, a religious person,
whom she went to see for her religion's sake, re-
marked to her, that ' it was too great an honour
for him, that a visitant of her quality, who was
allied to so many great kings and princes of this
world, should come under his roof:' to whom she
humbly replied : * If they were religious, as well

PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 145

as great, it would be an honour indeed ; but if
you knew what that greatness is, as well as I do
you would value it less.'

"After a religious meeting which we had in
her chamber, she was much affected, and said :
* It is a hard thing to be faithful to what one
knows. O, the way is straight ! I am afraid I am
not weighty enough in my spirit to walk in it '

" She once withdrew, on purpose to give her
servants, who were religiously disposed, the liberty"
of discoursing with us, that they might the more
freely put what questions of conscience they de-
sired to be satisfied in. Sometimes she suffered
both them and the poorest persons of her town,
to sit by her in her own chamber, where we
had two meetings. I cannot forget her last words,
when I took my leave of her : * Let me desire
you to remember me, though I live at so great a
distance, and you should never see me more. I
thank you for this good time. Be assured, that
though my condition subjects me to divers tempt-
ations, yet my soul has strong desires after the
best things.'

" She lived till the age of sixty years ; and
then departed at her house in Herwerden, in the
year 1680, as much lamented, as she had been be-
loved by her people. To her real worth I do, with
a religious gratitude, dedicate this memorial."

SECTION VII,

WILLIAM MOMPESSON.

William Mompesson was rector of Eyam in
Derbyshire, during the time of the plague that
nearly depopulated the town in the year 1666, the
year after that distemper prevailed in London.
This benevolent man thought it his duty to con-
tinue in the place, notwithstanding the plague was
making its ravages around him. He never caught
the disorder ; and was enabled, during the whole
time of the calamity, to perform the functions of
the physician, the legislator, and the priest, of his
afflicted parish ; assisting the sick with his medi-
cines, his advice, and his prayers. During these
pious labours, his wife was taken ill, and died.
The following letter, written by him to Sir George
Saville, patron of the living of Eyam, breathes such
a spirit of pure religion and resignation of mind,
that we doubt not it will be acceptable to the
reader : —

" Honoured and dear sir,

"This is the saddest news that ever my pen
could write ! The destroying angel having taken
up his quarters within my habitation, my dearest
wife is gone to her eternal rest, and is invested
v/ith a crown of righteousness, having made a
happy end.

WILLIAM MOMPESSON. 147

"Indeed, had she loved herself as well as me,
she had fled from the pit of destruction with her
sweet babes, and might have prolonged her days :
but she was resolved to die a martyr to my inter-
est. My drooping spirits are much refreshed with
her joys, which I think are unutterable.

" Sir, this paper is to bid you a hearty farewell
for ever, and to bring you my humble thanks for
all your noble favours ; and I hope you will be-
lieve a dying man. I have as much love as hon-
our for you, and I will bend my feeble knees to
the God of heaven, that you, my dear lady, and
your children, and their children, may be blessed
with external and eternal happiness ; and that the
same blessing may fall upon Lady Sunderland and
her relations.

" Dear sir, let your dying chaplain recommend
this truth to you and your family, that no happi-
ness or solid comfort can be found in this vale of
tears, like living a pious life : and pray ever retain
this rule : * Never do any thing upon which you
dare not first ask the blessing of God.'

" Sir, I have made bold in my will with your
name for an executor ; and I hope that you will
not take it ill. I have joined two others with
you, who will take from you the trouble. Your
favourable aspect will, I know, be a great com-
fort to ray distressed orphans. I am not desirous

143 WILLIAM MOMPESSOK.

that lliey may- be great, but good ; that they may be
brought up in the fear and admonition of the Lord.

" Sir, I thank God I am contented to shake
hands with all the world ; and have many comfort-
able assurances that God will accept me upon the
account of his Son. I find the goodness of God
greater than ever I thought or imagined ; and I
wish, from my soul, that it were not so much
abused and contemned.

*' I desire, sir, that you will be pleased to make
choice of an humble, pious man, to succeed me in
my parsonage ; and could I see your face before
my departure hence, I would inform you in what
manner I think he may live comfortably amongst
his people ; which would be some satisfaction to
me before I die.

" Dear sir, I beg your prayers, and desire you to
procure the prayers of all about you, that I may
not be daunted by the powers of hell. With tears
I beg, that when you are praying for fatherless in-
fants, you would remember my two pretty babes.

" Pardon the rude style of this paper ; and be
pleased to believe that I am, dear sir,
" Your most obliged, most affectionate,
" and grateful servant,

"William Mompessow.
*'Eyam, Sept, 1, 1666."

SECTION VIII.
ADMIRAL PEKN.

William Penn, afterwards Sir William Penn,
knight and admiral of England, was born in the
year 1621 ; and descended from an ancient family.
At twenty-three years of age, he was made rear-
admiral of Ireland ; at thirty-one, vice-admiral of
England ; and at thirty two, general in the first
Dutch war. He was a member of parliament in
1655 ; and in 1660 was made a commissioner of
the admiralty and navy, and governor of the fort
and town of Kinsale. In 1664 he was appointed
chief commander under the duke of York ; and
was in the remarkable engagement which, in that
year, happened with the Dutch fleet. He then
took leave of the sea ; and soon after, finding his
bodily infirmities increase, he withdrew to Wan-
stead in Essex, where he died in 1670.

A short time before his death, looking over the
busy scenes in which he had been engaged, he be-
came solemnly impressed with the view ; and filled
with regret for his want of sufficient attention to
the mercies he had received. The following ex-
cellent advice which, at that time, he gave to one
of his sons, strongly expresses the religious state
of his mind

13*

150 ADMIRAL PENN,

" Son William, I am weary of the world. I
V70uld not live over my days again, if I could com-
mand them with a wish ; for the snares of life are
greater than the fears of death. This troubles me,
that I have offended a gracious God, who has fol
lowed me to this day. O, have a care of sin ; that
is the sting both of life and death. Three things
I commend to you. First, let nothing in this world
tempt you to wrong your conscience ; I charge
you, do nothing against your conscience : you will
then keep peace at home, which will be a feast to
you in the day of trouble. Secondly, whatever
you design to do, plan it justly, and time it season-
ably : for these give security and despatch. Last-
ly, be not troubled at disappointments : for if they
may be recovered, do it ; if they cannot, trouble
is vain. If you could not have avoided them, be
content : peace and profit often attend submission
to Providence ; and afflictions make wise. If you
could have avoided them, let not your trouble ex-
ceed instruction for another time. These rules
will carry you with firmness and comfort through
this inconstant world."

CHAPTER V.

i ^cal — Robert Boyle — John Locke — John Janeway —
Earl of Marlborough,

SECTION !.
PASCAL.

??^AisE Pascal was born at Clermont in France,
m \hc year 1623. Nature endowed him with ex-
traofc'inary powers of mind, which were highly
cuUwated. He was an eminent philosopher, a
profound reasoner, and a sublime and elegant
writer. We raise his character still higher, when
we say, he was a man of most exemplary piety
and virtue. The celebrated Bayle, speaking of
this distinguished person, sa3''s : " a hundred vol
umes of religious discourses, are not of so much
avail to confound the impious, as a simple account
of the life of Pascal. His humility and his devo-
tion mortify the libertines more, than if they were
attacked by a dozen missionaries. They can no
longer assert, that piety is confined to men of little
minds, when they behold the highest degree of it.

152 PASCAL.

in a geometrician of the first rank, the most acute
metaphysician, and one of the most penetrating
minds that ever existed."

From his infancy, Pascal gave proofs of a verjr
uncommon capacity. He desired to know the
reason of every thing, and when sufficient reasons
were not offered, he sought for better : nor would
he ever yield his assent, but to such as appeared
to him well-grounded. It is a comfortable reflec-
tion, that a man of this turn, with a mind so com-
prehensive and sagacious, entertained the most
exalted sentiments of the Christian religion ; and
never had the least doubt of its Divine authority.
This information we have from his biographer,
who knew him well, and who says, " that, by the
instructions and example of his father, great rev-
erence for religion was early impressed upon his
mind, and continued with him through life ; and
that he was always, in a. high degree, opposed to
the principles of infidelity."

When he was in the twenty-fourth year of his
age, he declined mathematical and philosopliical
studies, in which he had so eminently distinguished
himself, resolving to spend the remainder of his
days in retirement; and to devote his time and
talents wholly to the cause of piety and virtue
His work, entitled, "Thoughts upon Religion
and other Subjects," has been much read an^

PASCAL. 153

admired. He employed a great part of his
time in prayer, and in reading the Holy Scrip-
tures ; and he found the greatest comfort and
delight, in these devout exercises. He used to
say, " that the Sacred Scriptures are not so much
adapted lo the head, as to the heart of man ;
that they are intelligible only to those who have
their hearts right ; and that to others they are ob-
scure and uninteresting." In his retirement, he
was visited by many persons of distinction, who,
on account of his great wisdom and piety,
wished to consult him respecting religious sub-
jects. His conversation abundantly answered
their expectations : but he felt a fear to possess
his mind, lest, on such occasions, he should speak
rather to gratify his own vanity, than simply to
afford information.

In the following lines, which were written by
himself, and found among his papers after his
decease, we see a striking picture of the mind of
this good man :

" I respect poverty, because Jesus Christ re-
spected it : I respect riches, because they furnish
ihe means of relieving the distressed. — I do not
return evil to those who have done me an injury.
I endeavour to be sincere and faithful to all men ;
but I have a peculiar tenderaess towards those
with whom God has caused me to be intimately

164 PASCAL.

connected. Whether I am alone, or in company,
I consider myself as in the sight of God, who
will judge m,y actions, and to whom I consecrate
them all. — These are my sentiments : and I daily
bless my Redeemer, who has impressed them
upon me ; and who, by the operation of his
grace, has taken away the concupiscence, pride,
ambition, and miser}'', to which I was naturally
subject. I owe my deliverance to his power and
goodness, having nothing of myself but imbecility
and corruption."

Pascal, from his youth, was much afflicted
with sickness ; and he often said that, from the
nineteenth year of his age, he had never passed
a day free from pain. He submitted to his suf-
ferings without a murmur, and even at times
rejoiced in them ; believing that they came from
the hand of his most merciful Father, and were
designed for the purification and improvement of
his soul. During his last illness, his deportment
was truly edifying ; and his expressions of charity
and pious resignation, though deeply affecting,
were highly consolatory to his friends. He said
to his sister who attended him : " How has it
happened that I have never done any thing foi
the poor, though I have always had a great love
for them?" She observed to him that he had not
possessed property sufHcient to afford them much
assistance. "Then," said he, "I ought t(5 have

PASCAL. 155

given them my time and labour. In this respect
1 am to blame : and if my physicians speak truly,
and God should permit me to recover, I am re-
solved that the service of the poor shall be the
sole employment of my remaining da3^s."

To some of his friends, who expressed the con-
cern they felt on account of his great and con-
tinued afflictions, he said : " I know the dangers
of health, and the advantages of sickness. —
When we are ill, we are exempt from many of
the passions which disturb us in health ; we ara
without ambition, without avarice ; we are in
continual expectation of death. We have no-
thing to do, but to submit humbly and peace-
fully."

The humility and simplicity of heart, for
which he was always remarkable, seemed to in-
crease as he approached his end. A person who
frequently visited him in his last sickness, said
of him : " He is a child : he is humble ; he sub-
mits like a little child." — One of his particular
friends, who had spent an hour with him, and had
been much edified by his meek and pious example,
thus expressed himself to his sister : " You m.a}'',
indeed, be comforted. If God should call him
hence, you have abundant cause to praise that
gracious Being for the favours which he has con-
ferred upon him I always very much admired

156 PASCAL.

his great qualities : but I never before observed
that extraordinary simpHcity which I have just
now witnessed : it is wonderful in such a mind as
he possesses. I most cordially wish that I were
in his situation."

His last words were : " May God never forsake
me !" and he died full of peace and hope.

With every deduction that can be made, for a
few errors arising from peculiar circumstances,
Pascal was undoubtedly one of the greatest
ornaments of human nature. Few have rivalled
him in talents, and few have led a life of equal
innocence and pietv.

SECTION II.
ROBERT BOYLE.

The honourable Robert Boyle, an eminent
philosopher, and a truly good man, was the son
of Richard, earl of Cork, and was born at Lis-
more, in Ireland, in the year 1627. At Eton
school, where he was educated, he soon discovered
a force of understanding, which promised great
things : and a disposition to improve it to the
utmost. During his education, and before he
was ten years old, he was much afflicted willi an
ague, which considerably depressed his spirits :
and to divert his attention, he was persuaded to
read Amadis de Gaul, and other romantic books.
But this kind of reading, he says in his memoirs,
produced such restlessness in him, that he was
obliged to apply himself to mathematical studies,
in order to fix and settle the volatility of his
fancy.

He was a man of great learning ; and his stock
of knowledge was inimense. The celebrated Dr,
Boerhaave has passed the following eulogium
upon himi : " Boyle was the ornament of his age

I5S R03EIIT BOYLE.

and country. Which of his writings shall I com
mend ? All of them. To him we owe the secrets
of fire, air, water, animals, vegetables, fossils : so
that from his works may be deduced the whole
system of natural knowledge."

He was treated vvtilh particular kindness and
respect by King Charles the Second, as well as by
the two great ministers, Southampton and Cla-
rendon. By the latter, he was solicited to enter
into orders : for his distnlguished learning, and
unblemished reputation, induced Lord Clarendon
to think, that so veiy respectable a personage
would do great honour to the clergy. Boyle
considered the proposal with due attention. Hs
reflected, that, in his present situation of life,
whatever he wrote, with respect to religion, would
have greater weight, as coming from a layman -
for he well knew, that the irreligious fortified
themselves against all that the clergy could offer,
by supposing and saying, that it was their trade,^
and that they were paid for it. He considered,,
likewise, that, in poini of fortune and character,
he needed no accessions : and, indeed, his desire
for these was always very limited. But Bishop
Burnet, to whom Boyle had communicated me-
morandums concerning his life, tells us, that
what had the greatest weight, in determining his
judgment, was, "the not feeling within himself
any motion or tendency of mind which he could

ROBERT BOYLE. 159

safely esteem a call from the Holy Spirit : and

therefore he did not venture to take holy orders,

lest he should be found to have lied unto
it."

Bishop Burnet, who was Boyle's particular
friend, and wlio, during an intimacy of twenty-
nine years, had spent many happy hours in
conversation with him, gives a full account of his
genuine piety and virtue, and of his zeal for the
Christian rehgion. "This zeal," he says, "was
unmixed with narrow notions, or a bio-oted heat
in favour of a particular sect : it was that spirit
which is the ornament of a true Christian." Bur-
net mentions, as a proof of this, his noble founda
tion for lectures in defence of the gospel, against
infidels of all sorts ; the effects of which have
been very conspicuous in the many volumes
of excellent discourses which have been pub-
lished in consequence of that laudable and pious
desiirn.

He was at the charge of the translation and
i^npression of the New Testament, into the Ma-
Inyan tongue : and he had it dispersed in the East
Indies. He gave a great reward to the person
v/biO translated into Arabic, Grotius's incom-
parable book, on the truth of the Christian reli-
gion ; and had. a whole edition printed at his own
expense, which he took care to have spread in all

160 ROBERT BOYLE.

the countries where that language was understood.
By munificent donations, and by his patronage,
he also very materially promoted the plans of
other persons, for propagating the Christian re-
ligion, in remote parts of the world. In other
respects, his charities were so extensive, thai
they amounted to more than a thousand pounds
sterling every year.

The great object of his philosophical pursuits,
was, to promote the cause of religion, and to dis-
countenance atheism and infidelity. His intimate
friend. Bishop Burnet, makes the following ob-
servations on this point : " It appeared to those
who conversed with him on his inquiries into
nature, that his main design, (on which as he
had his own eye constantly fixed, so he took care
to put others often in mind of it,) was to raise in
himself and others, more exalted sentiments of the
greatness and glory, the wisdom and goodness of
God. This design was so deeply impressed on
his mind, that he concludes the article of his will
which relates to the Royal Society, in these
words: *I wish them a happy success, in their
attempts to discover the true nature of the works
of God : and I px<\y that they, and all other
searchers into physical truths, may cordially refer
their attainments, to the glory of the great
Author of nature, and to the comfort of man
kind.' "

ROBERT BOYLE. 161

On another occasion, the same person speaks
of him thus : " He had the most profound vene-
ration for the great God of heaven and earth,
that I ever observed in any man. The very
name of God was never mentioned by him, with-
out a pause and observable stop in his discourse."
So brightly did the example of this great and
good man shine, through his whole course, that
Bishop Bm"net, on reviewing it, in a m.oment of
pious exultation, thus expressed himself : " I might
challenge the whole tribe of libertines, to come
and view the usefulness, as well as the excel-
lence of the Christian religion, in a life that was
entirely dedicated to it."

14*

SECTION III.

JOHN LOCKE.

John Locke, a very celebrated philosoplier,
and one of the greatest men that England ever
produced, was born in the year 1632. He was
well educated ; and applying himself with vigour
to his studies, his mind became enlarged, and
stored with much useful knowledge. He went
abroad as secretary to the English ambassador at
several of the German courts ; and afterwards had
the offer of being made envoy at the court of the
emperor, or of any other that he chose : but he
declined the proposal, on account of the infirm
state of his health. He was a commissioner of
trade and plantations, in which station he very
honourably distinguished himself. Notwithstand-
ing his public employments, he tound leisure to
v/rite much for the benefit of mankind. His " Es-
say on Human Understanding,*' his "Discourses
on Government," and his "Letters on Toleration,"
are justly held in high estimation.

This enlightened man and profound reasoner,
was most firmly attached to the Christian religion.
His zeal to promote it appeared, first, in his
middle age, by publishing a discourse to demon-
strate the reasonableness of believing Jesus to
be the promised Messiah ; and, afterwards, in

162

JOHN LOCKE. 2:63

the latter part of his life, by a very judicious
Commentary on several of the Epistles of the
Apostle Paul. The sacred Scriptures are every
where mentioned by him with the greatest rever-
ence ; and he exhorts Christians, " to betake them-
selves in earnest to the study of the way to
salvation, in those holy v/ritings, wherein God
has revealed it from heaven, and proposed it to
the world ; seeking our religion where we are
sure it is in truth to be found, comparing spiritual
things with spiritual."

In a letter, written the year before his death, to
a person who asked this question, " What is the
shortest and surest way for a young man to attain
the true knowledge of the Christian Religion ?"
he says : " Let him study the Holy Scriptures,
especially the New Testament. Therein are con-
tained the words of eternal life. It has God for
its author.; salvation for its end; and truth with-
out any mixture of error, for its matter." This
advice was conformable to his own practice. —
"For fourteen or fifteen years, he applied him-
self, in an especial manner, to the study of the
Scriptures, and employed the last years of his
life hardly in. any thing else. He was never
weary of admiring the great views of that sacred
book, and the just relation of all its parts : he
,^very day made discoveries in it, that gave him
fresh cause of admiration."

164 JOHN LOCKE.

The consolation which he derived from Divine
levelation^ is forcibly expressed in these words :
" I gratefully receive and rejoice in the light of
revelation, which has :^set me at rest in many
things, the manner whereof my poor reason can
by no means make out to me.

After he had diligently employed a great pnxt
of his life in a variety of occupations, he chose a
pleasing retirement for the remainder of his days.
This leisure appears to have been productive of
solid improvement, by enabling him to look
calmly over the scenes of past life ; to form a
proper estimate of its enjoyments \ and to dedi-
cate himself more fully to thf cause of piety and
virtue.

The summer before his death, he began to be
ver}^ sensible of his approaching dissolution. He
often spoke of it, and always with great compo-
sure. A short time before his decease, he declared
to a friend, that " he was in the sentiments of per-
fect charity towards all men; and of a sincere
union with the church of Christ, under whatever
name distinguished."

■

The day before his death, Lady Masham being
alone with him, and sitting by his bedside, he
exhorted her to regard this world only as a stato
of preparation for a better; adding, that "he

JOHN LOCKE. 165

had lived long enough, and thanked God for hav-
ing passed his days so comfortably ; but that this
Ufe appeared to him mere vanity." Plis meaning,
in this last expression, doubtless was, that the
duration and enjoyment of this life, are as no-
thing, compared with the endless ages, and the
euprenie felicity, of the life which is to come.

The same day, he particularly advised all about
him to read the Scriptures ; and desired to be re-
membered by them at evening prayers. Being
told ihat, if he chose it, the whole family should
be with him in his chamber, he said, he should be
very glad to have it so, if it would not give too
much trouble : and an occasion offering to speak
of the goodness of God, he especially exalted the
care which God showed to man in justifying him
by faith in Jesus Christ ; and in particular, return-
ed God thanks, for having blessed him with the
knowledge of tlie Divine Saviour.

About two months before his death, he wrote
a letter to his friend, Anthony Collins, and left
this direction upon it : " To be delivered to him
after my decease." It concludes with the follow-
ing remarkable words • —

" May you live long and happy, in the enjoy-
ment of health, freedom, content, and all those
blessings which Providence has bestowed on you.

166 JOHN LOCKE.

and to which your virtue entitles you. You loved
me living, and will preserve my memory when I
am dead. All the use to be made of it is, that this
life is a scene of vanity, which soon passes away,
and affords no solid satisfaction, but in the con
sciousness of doing well, and in the hopes of an-
other life. This is what I can say upon experi-
ence ; and what you will find to be true, when you
come to make up the account. Adieu."

The following extract from a letter written by
Lady Masham, deserves a place among the testimo-
nies respecting this distinguished and excellent man:

" You will not, perhaps, dislike to know, that
the last scene of Mr. Locke's life, was not less
admirable than any thing else concerning him.
All the faculties of his mind were perfect to the
last. His weakness, of which only he died, made
such gradual and visible advances, that few peo-
ple, I think, do so sensibly see death approach
them, as he did. During all this time, no one
could observe the least alteration in his humour :
always cheerful, conversable, civil ; to the last
day thoughtful of all the concerns of his friends,
and omitting no fit occasion of giving Christian
advice to all about him. In short, his dv.ath was,
like his hfe, truly pious : yet natural, easy, and
unaffected. Time, I think, can never produce a
more eminent example of reason and religion thao
he was, both living and dying.

SECTION IV.
JOHN JANEWAY.

John Jane way was born in Hertfordshire, in
'the year 1633. He was remarkable for his pi^tv
and love of mankind, for an exemplary conduct
through life, and a happy, triumphant death.

Before he was thirteen years of age, he had
made a considerable proficiency in the mathe-
matics, in the science of astronomy, and in other
branches of useful literature. At the age of seven-
teen, he was chosen to King's College in Cam-
bridge ; and when he was about eighteen, it
pleased Divine Goodness to open his understand-
ing, and discover to him, that the knowledge of
his Creator, and a consciousness of an interest
in his love, through Jesus Christ, was infinitely
superior to every attainment and possession of this
world. At this time, he became sensible that as-
tronomy surveys but a molehill, in comparison
of the great objects which the religion of Jesus
contemplates. The complacency and delight
which he found in a religious life, were discernible
in his very countenance. Though he had a just
sense of the value of learning and knowledge, yet
he now " counted every thing but as dross and
dung, in comparison of the knowledge of Christ,
and him crucified." From this period of his life
to the conclusion of it, he continued to rise above

167

168 JOHN JANEWAT.

the world, and to labour for purity of heart, and
acceptance in the Divine Sight.

As his ov/n comforts came from the source of
n\l consolation, so he was desirous of leading others
10 partake of that fountain, and to depend upon it
loi SL^port. "We poor foolish creatures," said he,
on a particular occasion, " scarcely know what is
good for ourselves : but it is no small encourage-
ment to the people of God, that wisdom itself is
iheir guard ; and that one who loves them better
than they love themselves, cares for them."

When he ^^W into a decline, and had but little
prospect of life, he was far from being alarmed
with the view of his dissolution. " I am
ashamed," he said, " to desire and pray for life.
Is there any thing here, more desirable than tl/- ,
enjoyment of Jesus Christ ? Can I desire a..y
thing below comparable to that blessed vision!
O that crown ! that rest which remains for the pea
pie of God ! and, blessed be God, I can say, 1
kncv; it is mine."

It was his custom to set apart an hour eYery
day, for secret retirement and solemn meditation.
On one of these occasions, a friend of his, un-
known to him, placed himself in a situation,.
v>^here he observed all that passed ; and his re-
marks on the scene before him, are worthy of

JOHN JANEWAY. 169

insertion. "What a spectacle did I behold!
Surely, a man walking with God, conversing in-
timately with him, and maintaining a holy free-
dom with the great Jehovah. Methought I saw
a spiritual merchant in a heavenly exchange,
pursuing a rich trade for the treasures of the other
world. 0 what an animating sight it was ! me-
ihinks I see him still. How lovely was his coun-
tenance ! His looks, and smiles, and every motion,
«poke him to be upon the confines of glory."

He was full of love and compassion to the souls
of men ; and often gi'eatly lamented the barren-
ness of Christians, in their converse with each
other. " 0," said he, on a particular occasion, " to
spend an hour or two together, and to hear
scarcely a word that speaks people's hearts in love
with holiness ! Where is our love to God, and
our fellow-creatures, all this w^hile ? Where is out
sense of the preciousness of time ? of the great-
ness of our account ? Should we talk thus, if we
believed we should hear of it again at the da}'" of
judgment? Does not this speak aloud that cur
hearts are devoid of grace ; and that we have little
sense of spiritual and eternal concerns ?"

To a friend who visited him, and who spoke of the
excellence of Christ, and of the glory of the invisi^
ble world, he replied : " Ah ! I feel somiCtliingof it.
5Iy heart is as full as it can hold in ihis lower state."

170 JOHN JANEWAY.

Though he was, generally, as he approached
his end, in a triumphant frame of spirit, yet he
experienced, at times, some variations : and in
these seasons, he used to say : " Hold out, faith
and patience, yet a little while, and your trial will
be over."

Near the close of life, most of his work was
praise. Admiring the boundless love of God to
him, he said : " O, why this love to me, Lord ?
why to me ? — Praise is now my work, and I
shall be engaged in that sweet employment for
ever. O, help me to praise him ! I have nothing
else to do. 1 have done with prayer ; I have al-
most done with conversing with mortals. I shall
soon behold Christ himself, who died for me, and
loved me, and washed me in his blood. I shall
shortly be in eternity, singing the song of
Moses, and the song of the Lamb. I shall pre-
sently stand upon Mount Sion, with an innu
merable company of angels, and the spirits of
the just made perfect. I shall hear the voice of
multitudes, and be one amongst them who say :
* Hallelujali ! salvation, glory, and honour, and
power, unto the Lord our God !' "

Thus did this favoured and happy spirit take his
leave of the world, and rise triumphant to the
regions of bliss and immortality. He died in the
twenty -fifth year of his age.

SECTION V.
EARL OF MARLBOROUGH.

James, earl of Marlborough, was killed in
a battle at sea, on the coast of Holland, in the
year 1665. Not long before his death, he had a
presentiment of it ; and wrote to his friend. Sir
Hugh Pollard, a letter, of which the following is
an extract : —

"I believe the goodness of your nature, and
the friendship you have always borne me, will
receive with kindness the last office of your friend.
I am in health enough of body, and, through the
mercy of God in Jesus Christ, well disposed m
mind. This I premise, that you may be satisfied
that what I write proceeds not from any fantastic
terror of mind, but from a sober resolution of wha.t
concerns myself, and an earnest desire to do you
more good after my death, than my example, (God
of his mercy pardon the badness of it !) in my
lifetime, may do you harm.

" I will not speak aught of the vanity of this
world : your own age and experience will save
that labour. But there is a certain thing called
Religion, dressed fantastical^, and to purposes
bad enough, w^hich yet, by such evil dealing,
loseth not its being. The great, good God hath

171

172 EARL OF MARLBOROUGH.

not left it without a witness, more or less, soo/ieror
later, in every man's bosom, to direct us in the
pursuit of it ; and for avoiding those inextricable
disquisitions and entanglements, our own frail
reason would perplex us with, God, in liis inli-
nite mercy, hath given us his holy word, in which,
as there are many things hard to be understood,
so there is enough plain and easy, to quiet our
minds, and direct us concerning our future being.
I confess to God and you, I have been a great
neglecter, and, I fear, despiser of it : God, of his
infinite mercy, pardon me the dreadful fault !
But when I retired myself from the noise and de-
ceitful vanity of the world, I found no true comfort
in any other resolution than what I had from thence.
I commend, from the bottom of my heart, the same
to your, I hope, happy use.

" Dear Hugh, let us be more generous, than to
believe we die as the beasts that perish ; but with
a Christian, manl}^ brave resolution, look to what
is eternal. The only great and holy God, Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost, direct you to a happy end
of your life, and send us a joyful resurrection.
So prays your true friend,

" Marlborough."

This letter marks the writer's strong sense of.
the importance of the sacred writings ; and his
dee^ regret for having, at any period, treated them

EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 173

with indifference. When our pursuits in hfe, our
companions, or our taste for a particular species
of reading, occasion us to contemn or neglect
the Holy Scriptures, . and the simplicity of the
Gospel, it is a sad proof that the mind has begun
to be perverted, and that the way is prepared for
great depravity of heart. AVhatever, therefore,
tends to lessen our esteem for those venerable
and liighly interesting communications of the
Divine Will ; or disinclines us to the perusal
and study of them ; should be regarded with early
apprehension, and avoided with the utmost soli-
citude.

" The Scriptures," says Bishop Home, " are
wonderful, with respect to the matter which they
contain, the manner in which they are written,
and the effects w^hich they produce. They con-
tain the sublimest truths, many of which are
veiled under external ceremonies and figurative
desf /iptions. When they are properly opened
and enforced, they terrify and humble, they con-
vert and transform, they console and strengthen.
Who but must deligl '^ study, and to observe,
these testimonies of v.id will and the wisdom, the
love and the power of God most high ! While
we have these holy writings, let us not waste our
time, misemploy our thoughts, and prostitute our
admiration, by doating on human follies, and won-
dering at human trifles."

15*

CHAPTER VL

^Ay Rachel Russel — Jaue Ratcliffe — Sir Isaac Newton
— Bishop Burnet — John, Earl of Rochester.

SECTION. I.

LADY llACPIEL RUSSEL.

Lady Rachel Russel, daughter of the earl of
Southampton, was born about the yesLV 1636.
She appears to have possessed a truly noble mind,
a solid understanding, an amiable and a benevo-
lent temper. Her pious resignation, and reli-
gious deportment, under the pressure of very
deep distress, afford a highly instructive example,
and an eminent instance of the Pov^^er of Religion
to sustain the mind, in the greatest storms *and
dangers, when the waves of affliction threaten to
overwhelm it.

It is well known, that the husband of this lady,
William, Lord Russel, was beheaded in the reign
of Charles the Second ; that he was a man of
great merit ; and that he sustained the execution

174

LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 175

ot his severe sentence, with Christian and invin-
cible fortitude. During the period of her illus-
trious husband's troubles, she conducted herself
with a mixture of the most tender affection, and
the most surprising magnanimity. She appeared
in court at his trial; and when the attorne}^-
general told him, "He might employ the hand
of one of his servants in waiting, to take notes of
the evidence for his use," Lord Russel answered,
" that he asked none, but that of the lady who sat
by him." The spectators, at these w^ords, turned
their eyes, and beheld the daughter of the virtu-
ous Southampton rising up to assist her lord in
this his utmost distress : a thrill of anguish ran
through the assembly. After his condemnation,
she threw herself at the king's feet ; and pleaded,
but alas ! in vain, the merits and loyalty of her
father, in order to save her husband.

When the lim.e of separation came, her con-
duct appears to be worthy of the highest admi-
ration : for without a sigh or tear, she took her
last farewell of her husband, though it might
have been expected, as they were so happy in
each other, and no wife could possibly surpass
her in affection, that the torrent of her distress
would have overflowed its banks, and been too
mighty for restraint. Lord Russel parted from
his lady with a composed silence : and observing
how greatly she was supported, said after she was

176 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL.

gone : " The bitterness of death is now past :"
for he loved and esteemed her beyond expression.
He declared, that " she had been a great blessing
to him; and observed, that he should have been
miserable, if she had not possessed so great mag-
nanimity of spirit joined to her tenderness, as
never to have desired him to do a base thing to
save his life." He said, " there was a signal
providence of God, in giving him such a wife, in
whom were united noble birth and fortune, great
understanding, great religion, and great kindness
to himself; but that her behaviour in his extrem
ity, exceeded all."

After the death of her lord upon the scaffold,
this excellent woman, encompassed with the
darkest clouds of affliction, seemed to be absorbed
in a religious concern, to behave properly under
the afflicting hand of God ; and to fulfil the
duties now devolved upon herself alone, in the
care, education, disposal, and happiness, of her
children ; those living remains of her lord, which
had been so dear to him, and which were, for his
sake, as well as their owuj so dear to herself.

The following short extracts from a few of hej
letters, evince the humble and pious frame ol
her mind ; the great benefits she derived from hei
afflictions ; and the comfortable hope she enter
tained of her future Test and felicity : —

LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 17?

• " You, my friend, who knew us both,

and how we lived, must allow I have just cause
to bewail my loss. I know it is common with
others to lose a friend : but few can glory in
the happiness of having lived with such a one ;
and few, consequently, can lament the like loss
Who but must shrink at such a blow, till, bv
tlie mighty aid of the Holy Spirit, they let the
gift of God, which he has put into their hearts,
interpose ? O ! if I did steadfastly believe, I
could not be dejected : for I will not injure m3>-
sclf to say, I offer my mind any inferior conso-
lation to supply this loss. No ; I most willingly
forsake this world, this vexatious, troublesome
world ; in which I have no other business, than to
rid my soul from sin, and secure my eternal inter-
ests ; to bear with patience and courage, my emi-
nent misfortunes, and ever hereafter to be above
the smiles and frowns of it : and, having finished
the remnant of the w^ork appointed me on earth,
joyfully to wait for the heavenly perfection in
God's good time ; when, by his infinite mercy^ I
may be counted worthy to enter into the same
place of rest and repose, where he is gone, for
whom I grieve."

" The future part of my life will not, I ex-
pect, pass as perhaps I would choose. — Sense has
loncj enoufrh been satisfied : indeed so lono;, that I
know not how to live by faith ; yet the pleasant

178 LADY RACHEL RtJSSEL.

Stream, that fed it near fourteen years together,
being gone, I have no sort of refreshment, but
when I can repair to that Hving Fountain, whence
all flows ; while I look not at the things which are
seen, but at those which are not seen, expecting
that day whicli will settle and compose all my
tumultuous thoughts, in perpetual peace and
quiet."

" The consideration of the other world

is not only very great, but in my small judg-
ment, tlie only support under the greatest of
afflictions that can befall us here. The enliven-
ing heat of those glories, is sufficient to animate
and refresh us, in our dark passage through this
world : and notwithstandincr I am below the
meanest of God's servants, and have not, in the
least degree, lived answerably to those opportu-
nities I have had ; yet my Mediator is my judge,
and he will not despise weak beginnings, though
there be more smoke than flame.. He will help
us in believing ; and, though he suffer us to be
cast down, will not cast us off*, if we commit our
cause to him. — I strive to reflect how large my
portion of good things has been : and though
they are passed away, no more to return, yet I
have a pleasant work to do, to dress up my soul
for my desired change, and to fit it for the converse
of angels, and the spirits of just men made per-
fect; among whom, my hope is, my loved lord

LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 179

is one ; and my often-repeated prayer to God is^
that if I have a reasonable ground for that hope,
it may give refreshment to my poor soul."

-"From the enticing delights of the

world, I can, after this event, be better weaned.
I was too rich in possessions, while I possessed
him. All relish now is gone. I bless God for it;
and pray that I may more and more turn the
stream of my affections upwards, and set my
heart upon the ever-satisfying perfections of God ;
not starting at his darkest providences, but re-
membering continually, that either his glory,
justice, or power, is advanced by every one of
them, and that mercy is over all his works ; as
we shall one day, with ravishing delight, behold.
In the meantime, I endeavour to suppress all
wild imaginations, which a melancholy mind is-
apt to let in ; and to say, with the man in the
Gospel, * I believe ; help thou my unbehef.' "

-"It is the grace of God which disposes

me to ask for, and thirst after, such comforts as
the world cannot give. What comforts it can
give, I am most sure I have felt, and experienced
to be uncertain and perishing. Such I will never
more, the grace of God assisting, look after
and yet I expect a joyful day, after some mourn
ful ones ; and though I walk sadly through the
valley of death, I 'vill fear no evil, humbling

180 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL.

myself under the mighty hand of God, who wil
save in the day of trouble. He knows my sor
rows, and the weakness of my person : I commit
myself and mine to him. — The saddest state to a
good soul, will one day end in rest. This is my
best comfort, and a greater we cannot have ; yet
the degree is raised, v»^hen we consider that Vv^e
shall not only rest, but live in regions of un-
speakable bliss. This should lead us sweetly
through the dark passage of the world ; and suf-
fer us to start at nothing we either meet with, or
our fears suggest may happen to us."

To Lady Essex, she wTote as folio w^s : — " I be-
seech God one day to speak peace to our af-
flicted minds, and not to suffer us to be disap-
pointed of our great hope. But we must wait
for our day of consolation, till this world passes
away: an unkind and trustless world this has
been to us. Why it has been such, God knows
best. All his dispensations serve the end of
his providence. They are ever beautiful, and
must be good, and good to every one of us ; and
even these dismal ones are so to us, if we can
bear evidence to our own souls, that we are bettei
for our afflictions ; which is often the case with
those who suffer wrongfully. We may reason-
ably believe our friends have found that rest we
yet but hope for ; and what better comfort can
you or I desire, in this valley of the shadow of

LADT RACHEL RTJSSEL. 181

aealh we are walkincr throufrh ? The roiifrher onr

€D CD O

path is, ihe more dehghtful and ravishing will be
ihe great change."

Sr.e survived Lord Riissel above forty years;
and coiiliiiued his xvidov/ to the end of her life.
She died in the year 1723, in the 87th year of
her age. Her continued hope and trust in iiiM,
who had been the staff of her life, and her sup-
port in affliction, is evidenced by the following
declaration, made not lonu; before the end of lier
da3^s : " God has not denied, me the support of
his Holy Spirit, in this my long day of calamity;
but he has enabled me, in some measure, to re-
joice in him as my portion for ever. He has
provided a remedy for all oia' griefs, by his sure
promises of another life,' where there is no death,
nor any pain nor trouble, but fulness of joy, in
ihe presence of Him who marde us, and who wil*
love us for ever,"

SECTION II.
JANE RATCLIFFE.

Jane Ratcliffe was born about the year 1 600,
Her extraordinary faith and piety render her a
suitable subject for these memoirs.

In early life, she indulged herself in many oi
the follies and vanities of her time ; but being
awakened to a sense of their fatal tendency, she
renounced them; and placed her affections on.
objects which alone can confer solid and durable
enjoyment. We shall pass over the intermediate
parts of her circMmspect life, and come to the
closing sceiie of it; when she appeared to be
much raised above the love of hfe, and the fears of
death. The following is an extract from her own
expressions, on that solemn occasion. At the
same time that they manifest her desire to be re-
leased from the sorrows and dangers of mortality,
there can be no doubt that it was limited by a
humble submission, and pious resignation, to the
will of Heaven : —

" I desire to die, " said she, " because I want,
while I live here, the glorious presence of God,
which I love and long for ; and the sweet fellow-
ship of angels and saints, who would be as glad to
see me with them, as I should be to see them

18*

JANE RATCLIFFE. 183

about me : and who would entertain me with un-
wearied delight.

" I desire to die — because, while I live, I shall
want the perfection of my nature, and be as an
estranged and banisiied child from my father's
house.

" I desire to die — ^because I would not live to
offend so good a God, and grieve his Holy Spirit.
For hid loving-kindness is better than life, and he
is abundant in mercy to me ; and the fear of dis-
pleasing him often lies as a heavy load upon my
heart.

" I desire to die — because this world is gene-
rally infected with the plague of sin, and I m.yself
am tainted with the same disease : so that, while I
live here, I shall be in danger of being infected,
or of infecting others. And if this world hates
me, because I endeavour to follow goodness, how
would it rejoice, if my foot should slip ! How wo-
ful would my life be to me, if I should give oc-
casion to the world to triumph and blaspheme !
There are in my nature so many defects, errors,
and transgressions, that I may say with David,
* Innumerable evils have compassed me about :
my iniquities have taken hold on me, so that I am
not able to look up.' I therefore desire heaven
for holiness, and to the end I may sin no more.

184 JANE RATCLIFFE.

. " I desire to die — because nothing in this wortd
can give me sohd and durable contentment.

" With regard to my children, I am not troubled ;
for that God who has given them life and breath,
and all they have, while I am living, can provide
for them when I am dead. My God will be tlicir
God, if they be his : and if they be not, Avhat
comfort would it be for me to live to behold it ?
Life would be bitter to me, if I should see them
dishonour God, whom I so greatly love.

" I fear not death — ^because it is but the sepa-
ration of the soul from the body : and that is
but the shadow of the body of death. Whereas,
the separation of the soul from God by sin, and
of soul and body for sin, is death indeed.

"I fear not death — because it is an enemy that
has been often vanquished ; and because I am armed
for it ; and the weapons of my warfare are miglity
through God, and I am assured of victory.

"I do not fear death for the pain of it; for I
am persuaded I have endured as great pain in
life, as 1 shall find in death; and death will cure
me of all sorts of pain. Besides, Christ died a
terrible death, to the end any kind of death might
be blessed to me. And that God who has greatly
loved me in life, will not neglect me in death;

JANE RATCLIPFE. 185

but will, by his Spirit, succour and strengthen me
all the time of the combat."

For her comfort in her last hours, she put into
the following form, some memoirs of the princi-
pal mercies and blessings she had received from
God : —

*' How shall I praise God for my conversion ?
tor his word, both in respect of my affection to it,
and the wonderful comforts I have had from it ?
for hearing my prayers ? for godly sorrow ? for
fellowship with the godly? for joy in the Holy
Spirit ? for the desire of death ? for contempt of
the world ? for private helps and comforts ? for
2:ivinfT me some strencrth a";ainst mv sins ? for
preserving me from gross evils, both before and
after my calling ?"

In her last sickness, which was of long continu-
ance, she was deeply sensible of the dangers and
miseries that attend our progi-ess through life ;
and often implored God to remove her into a
better world, saying, in the v/ords of David:
* Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation !
Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me ! O Lord, make
naste to help me !" — And she was relieved in the
tenderest manner : for her spirit departed from the
body, when it was thought she had only fallen
asleep. — She died in the year 1638.

16*

SECTION III.
SIR ISAAC NEWTON.

Sir Isaac Newton, a most celebrated English
philosopher and mathematician, and one of the
greatest geniuses that ever appeared in the
world, was descended from an ancient family in
Lincolnshire, where he was born, in the year
1642. His powers of mind were wonderfully
comprehensive and penetrating. Fontenelle says
of him : that " in learning mathematics, he did
not study Euclid, who seemed to him too plain
and simple, and unworthy of taking up his time.
He understood him almost before he read him : a
cast of his eye on the contents of the theorems of
that great mathematician, seemed to be sufficient
to make him master of them." Several of his
works mark a profundity of thought and reflec-
tion, that has astonished the most learned men.
He was highly esteemed by the university of
Cambridge ; and was twice chosen to represent
that place in parliament. He was also greatly
favoured by Queen Anne, and by George the
First. The princess of Wales, afterwards queen-
consort of England, who had a turn for philosophi-
cal inquiries, used frequently to propose questions
to him. This princess had a great regard for him ;
and often declared that she thought herself happy
lo live at the same time as he did, and to have the
pleasure and advantage of his conversation.

186 ^

eiR ISAJLC NEWTON. 187

This eminent philosopher was remarkable for
being of a very meek disposition, and a great
lover of peace. He would rather have chosen to
remain in obscurity, than to have the serenity of
his days disturbed by those storms and disputes,
ivhich genius and learning often draw upon those
who are eminent for them. We find him reflect-
ing on the controversy respecting his optic lectures,
(in which he had been almost unavoidably engaged,)
in the following terms: "I -blamed my own im-
prudence, for parting with so real a blessing as my
quiet, to run after a shadow."

The amiable quality of modesty stands very con-
spicuous m the character of this great man's mind
and manners. He never spoke, either of himself
or others, in such a manner as to give the most
malicious censurers the least occasion even to sus-
pect him of vanity. He was candid and affable ;
and he did not assume any airs of superiority over
those with whom he associated. He never thought
either his merit, or his reputation, sufficient to
excuse him from any of the common offices of
social life. Though he was firmly attached to the
church of England, he was averse to the per-
secution of the Non-conformists. He judged of
men by their conduct : and the true schismatics,
in his opinion, were the vicious and the wicked.
This liberality of sentiment did not spring from
the want of religion ; for he was thoroughly per-

188 SIR ISAAC NEWTOBT

suaded of the truth of Reveiation : ana amiasl
the great variety of books, which he had con-
stantly before him, that which he loved the best
and studied with the greatest application, was the
Bible. He was, indeed, a truly pious man : and
his discoveries concerning the frame and system
of the universe, were applied by him to demon-
strate the being of a God, and to illustrate his
power and wisdom. He also wrote an excellent
discourse, to prove that the remarkable prophecy
of DanieFs weeks, was an express prediction of
the coming of the Messiah, and that it was fulfilled
in Jesus Christ,

The testimony of the pious and learned Dr,
Doddridge to the most interesting part of this
great man's character, cannot be omitted on the
present occasion, " According to the best infor-
mation," says he, "whether public or private, I
could ever obtain, his firm faith in the Divine Re-
velation, discovered itself in the most genuine
fruits of substantial virtue and piety ; and conse-
quently gives us the justest reason to conclude,
that he is now rejoicing in the happy effects of it,
infinitely more than all the applause which his
philosophical works have procured him, though they
have commanded a fame lastincr as the world."

The disorder of which he died, was supposed
to be the stone in the bladder; which was, at

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 189

Ifmes, attended with paroxysms so severe as
to occasion large drops of sweat to run down his
face. In these trying circumstances, he was
never heard to utter the least complaint, nor to
express the least impatience. He died in the
cighty-fiflh year of his age. In his principles,
and conduct throusfh life, he has left a stroncp
and comfortable evidence, that the highest intel-
lectual powers harmonize with religion and virtue :
and that there is nothing in Christianity but what
will abide the scrutiny of the soundest and most
enlaro-ed understandincr.

o o

How great and satisfactory a confirmation is it
to the sincere, humble Christian, and what an
insurmountable barrier does it present to the in-
fidel, to perceive, in the list of Christian believers,
the exalted and venerable names of Bacon, Boyle,
Locke, Newton, Addison, Lyttelton, and Jones !
men who must be acknowledged to be ornaments
of human nature, when we consider the wide
compass of their abilities, the great extent of their
learning and knowledge, and their piety, their zeal
for truth, and their beneficence. These eminent
characters firmly adhered to the belief of Christi-
anity, after the most diligent and exact researches
into the life of its Founder, the authenticity of its
records, the completion of its prophecies, the sub-
limity of its doctrines, the purity of its precepts,
and the arguments of its adversaries.

SECTION IV.
BISHOP BURNET.

Gilbert Burxet, bishop of Salisbury, was born
at Edinburgh, in the year 1643. He was carefully
educated by his father : and having a strong con-
stitution and a prodigious memory, he applied
himself closely to stud}^, and acquired a great por-
tion of learning and knowledge, which he seemed
to have ready for all occasions. He travelled
through France, Italy, and Holland ; where he
formed connexions with many of the greatest per
sons of his time, by whom he was much respected
for his talents and virtues. At Amsterdam, he
became acquainted with the leading men of the
different persuasions tolerated in the United States,
Calvinists, Arminians, Lutherans, Anabaptists,
Brownisis, Papists, and Unitarians ; among each
of which, he used frequently to declare, he met
with men of such unfeigned piety and virtue, that
he became strongly fixed in a principle of universal
charity, and an invincible abhorrence of all severi
ties on account of religious opinions.

He was instrumental in promoting the Revolu
tion ; and lived in great fa\our with William and
Mary, and Queen Anne. He distinguished him
self in the house of lords, by declaring for mod
erate measures, with regard to the clergy who

190

BISHOP BURNET. 191 -

scnipled to take the oaths ; and for a toleration
of the Protestant dissenters. He composed many
works, which evince his desire to promote the
cause of piety and virtue. "The History of his
own Time," and " The History of the Reforma-
tion," have been much read ; and for the latter, he
rece'ived the thanks of both houses of parhament
His account of Lord Rochester, is an elegant and
interesting performance ; and a striking display of
the truth and excellence of the Christian rehgion.

The last five or six years of his life, he became
more abstracted from the world; and he seems to
have derived great advantage from the reflections
which this leisure produced. The followmg sen-
timents, solemnly expressed by him towards the
conclusion of his days, are so illustrative of tne
■ nature and power of true religion, and of its mflu-
ence upon his own mind, that they claim a place
in these memorials-

" «I shall conclude with recommei-idxg

to'air^ts of men, in the most solemn and seri-
ous manner, the study and practice of rsligion.
as that which is the most important of all things,
and which is both the light of the world, and the
salt of ihe earth.

"Ni,thin" so opens our faculties and com-
poses and "directs the whole man, as m inward

192 BISHOP BURNET.

sense of God ; of his authority over us ; of the
laws he has set us ; of his eye ever upon us ; of his
hearing our prayers ; assisting our endeavours ;
watching over our concems ; of his being to
judge, and reward or punish us in another slate
according to what we have done in this. Nothing
will give us such a detestation of sin, and such a
sense of the goodness of God, and of our obliga-
tions to holiness, as a right understanding and
firm belief of the Christian religion.

*
"* By living according to the rules of religion^ a
man becomes the wisest, the best, and the hap-
piest creature that he is capable of being. Honest
industry, the employing of time well, a constant
sobriety, an uiidefiled purity and chastity, with
continued serenity, are the best preservatives too
of life and health : so that take a man as an indi-
vidual, religion is his guard, his perfection, his
beauty, and his glory. This will make him a
light in the world, shining brightly, and enlighten-
ing many round about him.

" Thus, religion, if truly received and sincerely
adhered to, would prove the greatest of all bles-
sings to a nation. But, by religion, I understand
something more than receiving particular doc-
trines, though ever so true, or professing them,
and engaging to support them, even with zeal and
eagerness. What signify the best doctrines, if

BISHOP BURNET 193

men do not live suitably to them ; if they have not
a due influence upon their thoughts and their lives ?
Men of bad lives, with sound opinions, are self-con-
demned, and lie under a highly-aggravated guilt.

" By religion, I do not mean an outward com-
pliance with forms and customs, in going to church,
to prayers, to sermons, and to sacraments, with an
external show of devotion ; or, which is more, with
some inward forced good thoughts, in which many
satisfy themselves, while these have no visible
effect on their lives, nor any inward force to con-
trol and rectify their appetites, passions, and
secret designs. These customary performances,
how good and useful soever when understood and
riglitly directed, are of little value when men rest
on them, and think, because they do them, they
have acquitted themselves of their duty, though
they still continue proud, covetous, full of deceit,
envy, and malice. Even secret prayers, the most
effectual means, are designed for a higher end ;
which is, to possess our minds with such a constant
and present sense of divine truths, as may make
these live in us, and govern us, and draw down such
assistance, as to exalt and sanctify our natures.

" So that, by religion, I mean such a sense of
divine truth as enters into a man, and becomes
the spring of a new nature within him ; reforming
his thoughts and designs ; purifying his hearty

194 BISHOP BURNET.

sanctifying and governing his whole deportment,
his words as well as his actions ; convincing him
that it is not enough not to be scandalously vicious,
or to be innocent in his conversation, but that
he must be entirely, uniformly, and constantly,
pure and virtuous, animated with zeal to be
still better and better, more eminently good and
exemplary.

•' This is true religion, which is the perfection
of human nature, and the joy and delight of
every one that feels it active and strong within
him. It is true, this is not arrived at all at once,
and it will have an unhappy alloy, hanging long
even about a good man, but, as those ill mix-
tures are the perpetual grief of his soul, so that it
is his chief care to watch over and to mortify
them, he will be in a continual progress, still
gaining ground upon himself; and as he attains
lo a degree of purit}^, he will find a nobler flame
of life and joy growing up in him. Of this I
write with a greater concern and emotion, be-
cause I have felt it to be the true, and, indeed, the
only joy which runs through a man's heart and
life. It is this which has been, for many years,
my greatest support. I rejoice daily in it. I
feel from it the earnest of that supreme joy
which I want and long for ; and I am sure there
is nothing else which can afford any true and com-
plete happiness."

SECTION V.

LORD ROCHESTER.

John Wilmot, afterwards earl of Rochester
was born in 1647, at Ditchley, in Oxfordshire
After his education was completed, he travelled
into France and Italy ; and, at his return, devoted
himself to the court, and was in great favour with
Charles the Second. He had very early an incli-
nation to intemperance, which he seemed to have
totally subdued in his travels; but afterwards
falling into dissolute and vicious company, he
gave way to his former propensity ; and became
corrupt in his principles, and depraved in his
manners. He lost all sense of religious restraint ;
and, finding it not convenient to admit the author-
ity of laws which he was resolved not to obey,
sheltered his wickedness behind infidehty.

As he excelled in that noisy and licentious
merriment which wine excites, his companions
eagerly encouraged him in excess, and he wil-
lingly indulged it ; till, as he confessed to Dr.
Burnet, he was for five years together so much
inflamed by frequent ebriety, as in no interval to

be master of himself.

195

196 LORD ROCHESTER.

Thus, in a course of drunken gayety, and gross
sensuality, with seasons of study perhaps yet
more criminal, with an avowed contempt of all
decency and order, a total disregard to every mora.'
and a resolute denial of every religious obligation
he lived worthless and useless, and blazed out his
youth and his health in lavish voluptuousness ;
till, at the age of one-and-thirty, he had nearly
exhausted the fund of life, and had reduced him-
self to a state of weakness and decay.

At this time he was led to an acquaintance with
Dr. Biu'net, to whom he laid open with great
freedom the tenour of his opinions, and the course
of his life ; and from vviiom he received such con-
viction of the reasonableness of moral duty, and
the truth of Christianity, as, by the Divine bles
sing, produced a total change both of his manners
and opinions. Some philosophers of the present
age will probably suppose, that his contrition and
conviction were purely the effects of weakness
and low spirits, which scarcely suffer a man to
continue in his senses, and certainly not to be
master of himself: but Dr. Burnet affirms, tliat
he was "under no such decay as either darken-
ed or weakened his understanding; nor troubled
with the spleen or vapours, or under the power of
melancholy." In proof of this assertion, the follow
ing letter is produced ; in which nothing is omitted
but some personal compliments to the Doctor : —

LORD ROCHESTER. 197

" Woodstock-Pai'k, Oxfordshire,
"My most honoured Dr. Burnet,

" My spirits and body decay equally together :
but weak as I am in person, I shall write you a
letter. — If God be yet pleased to spare me longer
in this world, I hope, by your conversation, to
be exalted to such a degree of piety, that the
world may see how much I abhor what I so long
loved, and how much I glory in repentance, and
in God's service. Bestow your prayers upon me,
that God would spare me, if it be . his good will,
to show a true repentance and amendment of life
for the time to come ; or else, if the Lord please
soon to put an end to my worldly being, that he
would mercifully accept of my death-bed repent-
ance ; and perform that promise he has been
pleased to make, that at what time soever a sin-
ner doth repent, he would receive him. Put up
these prayers, most dear doctor, to Almighty

God, for your most obedient, languishing ser-
vant,

" Rochester.
"^Jime 25, 1680."

Soon after the receipt of this letter. Dr. Bur-
net visited him. Lord Rochester expressed to
him in strong terms, the sense he had of his past
life ; his sad apprehension for having so offended
his Maker and dishonoured his Redeem.er ; the

198 LORD ROCHESTER.

horrors he had gone through ; the sincerity of his
repentance ; and the earnestness with which his
mind was turned to call on God, and on his cruci-
fied Saviour, to have mercy upon him.

Discoursing one day of the manner of his life
from his youth, and bitterly upbraiding himsell
for his manifold transgressions, he exclaimed,
" O blessed God ! can such a horrid creature as I
am, who have denied thy being, and contemned
thy power, be accepted by thee ? — Can there be
mercy and pardon for me ? Will God own such a
wretch as I am ?" — About the middle of his sick-
ness, he said : " Shall the unspeakable joys of
heaven be conferred on me ? O mighty Saviour !
never, but through thy infinite love and satis
faction ! O never, but by the purchase of thy
blood !"

From the first of his yielding assent to the
truths of the Christian religion, his faith seemed
sincere and fervent. He highly reprobated " that
foolish and absurd philosophy, propagated by the
late Hobbes and others, which the world so much
admired, and which had undone him, and many
persons of the best parts in the nation." His hope
of salvation rested solely on the free grace of
God, through Jesus Christ. He often prayed that
his faith might be strengthened, and cried out :
*' Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief."

LORD ROCHESTER. 199

He expressed great esteem for the Holy Scrip-
lures, and resolved that if God should spare him,
he would frequently read them, and meditate upon
them : " for, having spoken to his heart, he ac-
knowledged that all the seeming absurdities and
contradictions, which men of corrupt and repro-
bate judgment supposed to be in them, were van-
ished : and now that he loved and received the
truth, their beauty and excellence appeared."

He frequently implored God's Holy Spirit, to
comfort and support him, to preserve him from
wicked thoughts and suggestions, and from every
thing prejudicial to that religious temper of mind
with which he was now so happily endued. One
night having been much disturbed by evil imagi-
nations, " I thank God," said he, " I abhor
them all. By the power of his grace, which I
am sure is sufficient for me, I have overcome
them. It is the malice of the devil, because I
am rescued from him, that thus troubles me ; but
the goodness of God frees me from ail my spir-
itual enemies."

He often called for his children, and spoke to
ihem with a warmth of feeling that can scarcely
be described. " See," said he to Dr. Burnet,
" how good God has been to me, in giving me
so many blessings ! and yet I have been a most
ungracious and unthankful creature !" He ex-

200 LORD ROCHESTER.

pressed much concern for the pious education of
his children ; and " wished his son might never
be a wit; one of those wretched creatures," as
he explained it, " wdio pride themselves in deny-
ing the being or the providence of God, and in
ridiculing religion; but that he might become an
honest and a pious man, by which means only he
could be the support and blessing of his family."

He gave a strict charge to the persons in whose
custody bis papers were, to burn all his obscene
and filthy pictures, which were so notoriously
scandalous; and all his profane and lewd wri
tings, by which he had so highly offended, and
shamed, and blasphemed, that holy religion into
which he had been baptized.

He was ready to make restitution, to the ut-
most of his power, to all persons whom he had
injured ; and heartily forgave all the wrongs
which he had sustained, hoping that he should
meet with the like free forgiveness from God.

He expressed a tender concern for his servants,
and those who attended him ; and earnestly ex-
horted them to love and fear God. To a gentle-
man of some character, who came to see him on
his death-bed, he said : " O remember that you
contemn God no more. He is an avenmn^ God,
and will visit you for your sins ; and will, 1 hope.

LORD ROCHESTER. 201

in mercy, touch your conscience, sooner or later,
as lie has done mine. You and I have been
friends and sinners together a great while, and
therefore I am the more free with you. We
have been all mistaken in our conceits and
opinions ; our persuasions have been false and
groundless ; therefore God grant you repent-
ance." And seeing the same gentleman the next
day, he said " Perhaps you were disobliged by
my plainness with you yesterday. I spoke the
words of truth and soberness :" and striking his
hand upon his breast, he added, "I hope God
will touch your heart."

He w^as very desirous to testify to the world his
repentance for his past misconduct ; and to make
every reparation in his power for the mischiefs,
\vhich, by his e?vample and Avritings, he had oc-
casioned. He sent messages, which well became
a dying penitent, to some of his former friends.
He strictly enjoined the pious persons who at-
tended him during his last sickness, to publish
any thing concerning him that might be a means to
reclaim others ; prajn'ng to God, that, as his life had
done much hurt, so his death might do some good.
Be caused the following solemn declaration to be
drawn up, which he signed with his own hand : —

"For the benefit of all those wdiom T may
have drawn into sin, by my example and encour-

202 LORD ROCHESTEn.

agement, I leave to the world this my last decla
ration, which I deliver in the presence of the
GREAT God, who knows the secrets of all hearts,
and before whom I am preparing to be judged ;
that, from the bottom of my soul, I detest and
abhor the whole course of my former wicked
life ; that I think I can never sufiiciently admire
the goodness of God, who has given me a true
sense of my pernicious opinions, and vile prac-
tices ; by which I have hitherto lived, without
hope, and without God in' the world ; have been
an open enemy to Jesus Christ, doing the ut-
most despite to the holy Spirit of Grace ; and
that the greatest testimony of my charity to such
is, to warn them in the name of God, and as
they regard the welfare of their immortal souls,
no more to deny his being or his providence, or
despise his goodness ; no more to make a mock
of sin, or contemn the pure and excellent religion
of my ever-blessed Redeemer, through whose
merits alone, I, one of the greatest of sinners, do
yet hope for mercy and forgiveness. Amen.

"J. Rochester.
" Declared and signed in the presence of

"Ann Rochester,
*' Robert Parsons."

His sufferings were, at times, very great ; but
he did not repine under them. In one of his
sharpest fits of pain, looking up to heaven, ho

LORD ROCHESTER. 203

said : " God's holy will be done. I bless him for
all he does to me!"

He expressed his willingness to live, or to die, as
it should please Divine Providence. "If," said
he, " God should spare me yet a little longer time
here, I hope to bring glory to his name, propor-
tionable to the dishonour I have done him, in m;/
whole life past : and particularly, by endeavours to
convince others of the danger of their condition,
if they continue impenitent ; and by telling them
how graciously God has dealt with me."

Near the close of life, he was often heard to
pray fer\-ently. He rejoiced in the comfortable
persuasion of acceptance with God. A few days
before his decease, he said : " I shall now die
But O, what unspeakable glories do I see ! What
joys, beyond thought or expression, am I sensible
of ! I am assured of God's mercy to me, through
Jesus Christ. O ! how I long to die, and to be
with mv Saviour !"

Thus died, in the thirty-third 3'ear of his age
the celebrated earl -of Rochester ; a memorable
instance of the goodness and mercy of God, rtA
of the power of his grace, to purify and redeem
the most corrupt and obdurate offender. From
this case, and 'from many other instances, the
truly penitent sinner, though his sills have been

'204 ' LOUD ROCHESTER.

as scarlet or as crimson, may derive hope that
God will, even in his greatest* extremity, bear
his prayers, and accept his repentance : but none
should presume on the Divine Mercy, by defer-
ring their amendment till they are brouglit to the
bed of sickness and death. They may suddenly
be taken away ; they may not have their under-
standing in the time of illness ; they may be de-
ceived with false hopes of recovery ; their pains
of body may not admit of that state of mind
which is proper for the great work of repentance ,
or, they may have become so hardened by the
habits of sin, that they may die, as many have
died, without a proper sense of their condition.
May the goodness and forbearance of God lead to
repentance and amendment of life, in the time of
health ! We shall then, at the approach of death,
have no guilty tumults of mind ; no dismal fore-
bodings of the future. We shall bear our afflic-
tion with patience and resignation : and, with joy
ful hope, commit our spirits into the hands of a
faithful and merciful Creator.

For a further account of Lord Rochester, we
refer the reader to a small volume published by
Dr. Burnet, entitled, " Some Passages of the Life
and Death of John, Earl of Rochester ;" " a book,
wln'ch," as Dr. Johnson says, " the critic ought to
read for its elegance, the philosopher for its argu
ments, and the saint for its piety."

CHAPTER VII.

Q.ueen Mary— Herman Boerhaave — Joseph Addison-
Ann Baynard — Elizabeth Rowe — Doctor Watts.

SECTION I.
aUEEN MARY.

Mary, queen of Great Britain, and consort of
King William the Third, was the daughter of
James the Second, and was born in the 37-ear 1661.
Slie appeared, to be happily disposed from very
early life, being good and gentle before she was
capable of knowing that it was her duty to be so.
This temper continued with her through the whole
progress of her childhood. She might need in-
struction, but she wanted no persuasion. And it
is said, that she never once, in the whole course
of her education, gave occasion for reproof. Be-
sides a most amiable sweetness of temper, slie
possessed great understanding, and a mind cultiva-
ted with useful learning and knowledge.

She w^as married in the sixteenth year of her
age, to the prince of Orange, and went to reside

18 206

206 QUEEN MARY.

in Holland, where she conducted herself with s&
much wisdom and goodness, as to gain universal
esteem and affection. But that which was, beyond
all comparison, her greatest ornament and pos-
session, was a truly devout and religious temper
which made her look with indifference on the
honours and splendour with which she was sur-
rounded; and seek for her highest enjoyment,
in doing good, in peace of mind, and in the hope
of a better life.

In proof of her uncommon merit, we shall here
insert a short declaration concerning her, made
by her husband, King William, whom she ten-
derly loved, and who best knew her excellence,,
and his own great loss in being deprived of her.
To Doctor Tenison, who endeavoured to comfort
him after her death, he observed : " I cannot but
grieve, since I have lost a wife, who in seventeen
years, never was guilty of an indiscretion. During
the whole course of our marriage, I never per
ceived the least fault in her. She possessed a
worth that nobody thoroughly knew but myself.'

In the character of Lady Russel, we have seen
the power and operation of religion on the mind,
under some of the darkest clouds of afHiction and
distress : in the present instance of Queen Mary,.
ihe virtue and preserving natuie of the same
^iivine principle, is evidenced amidst the magni-

QUEEN MARY. 207

ficence of i court, and the sunshine of worldly
prosperity It is, indeed, a principle of universal
agencys^; adapted to all ranks of men, and to
every allotment of Providence ; a sure preserva-
tive when things are smiling around us, and a
sovereign remedy for, or support under, all the
calamities of life.

This good queen spent a great part of her
time, in perusing the Holy Scriptures, and other
religious books. By a letter to her father, writ-
ten in early life, in support of the Protestant faith,
she appears to have been thoroughly grounded
and established in the principles of the Reforma-
tion. Bishop Burnet says, that "although he
had a high opinion of the princess's good under-
standing, before he saw this letter, yet the letter
surprised him, and gave him an astonishing joy,
to see so young a person, all on a sudden, with-
out consulting any one, able to write in so solid
and learned a manner."

Her talents and abilities were very conspicuous
in all her concerns, and particularly, in the im-
pintan'; charge of government. Doctor Tillotson,
2:cl!bishop of Canterbury, said, that "he was in
great admiration at the proofs he knew the queen
g"Ye of her knowledge, in the weighty affairs of
slate, in the king's absence, when the executive
part of the government was in her hands."

208 QUEEN MARY.

Her compassion and bounty to tlie poor and
afflicted, and those who stood in need of her lib-
erahty, were very eminent, and such as corre-
sponded with her exalte-d station, and the abrai
dant sources of rehef to which she had access
She took care to have a just account both of the
worthiness, and the necessities, of those who were
candidates for her hberahty ; and, in the con-
ducting of her charity, showed as much exact-
ness, attention and dihgence, as if she had no
cares of a higher nature. But what crowned
all, was her exact conformity to the rule of the
Gospel in her munificence : for none knew to
whom, or what she gave, but those whom she
was obliged to employ in the communication of
her bounty.

The piety of this excellent person, was a noble
support to her under the troubles of life : yet
there were some distresses to which it gave a
sharper edge. The impieties and blasphemies,
the open contempt of religion, and the scorn of
virtue, which she heard of from many persons,
and from many different parts of the nation, gave
her a secret horror ; and presented her with so
gloomy a prospect, as filled her mind Vv^ith melan
choly reflections. She was very sensibly touched,
when she heard that some, who pretended to
much zeal for the crown and the revolution,
Bcemed thence to think they had a sort of right

QCEEN MARY. 209

to be indulged in their licentiousness, and irregu-
larities. She often said, *^Can a blessing be ex-
pected from such hands, or on any thing that must
pass through them ?"

She had a just esteem for all persons whom she
thought truly religious and virtuous ; and no other
considerations were much regarded by her, when
these excellencies were not to be found. Next
to open impiety, the want of life in those who
pretended to religion, and the deadness and dis-
union of the Protestants in general, very much
affected her; and she often said, with poignant
regret : " Can such dry bones live ?"

So far was she from entertaining a high opinion
of herself, that she had a tender sense of any
thing that looked like a misc'arriage under her
conduct ; and was afraid lest some mistake of hers
might have occasioned it. When difficulties
grew too great to be surmounted, and she felt
uneasy under them, she made God her refuge ;
and often said, that " she found herself tranquil,
after she had poured forth her soul in prayer."
When melancholy events came from the hand of
Providence, she said, that "though there was no
occasion for complaint or anger, upon these cross
occurrences, yet there was just cause of grief,
since God^s hand was to be seen so particularly
in them."

18*

210 QUEEN MARY.

In her brightest seasons, she did not suffer her
self to be lulled into security, nor did she with
draw her dependance upon God. In the pleas
ures of life, she maintained a true indifference s'
to their continuance ; and seemed to think o\
parting with them, in so easy a manner, as plainl}?
showed how little possession ihcy had of her
heart.

At one period of her life, she felt such indispo-
sition of body, as induced her to believe that
some great sickness was approaching : but, on
this occasion, she possessed great quietude and
resignation ; and said, " that though she did not
pray for death, yet she could neither wish nor
pray against it. She left that to God, and re-
ferred herself to the disposal of Providence. —
If she did not wish for death, yet she did not
fear it."

As this was the state of her mind, when she
viewed that event at some distance, so she main-
tained the same composure, on its near approach.
The end of this extraordinary queen was, indeed,
such as might have been expected, from the pure
and exemplary life she had lived. When she
was first informed of the danger to be appre-
hended from her disorder, (which was the small-
pox,) she calmly said : " I have been instructed
how very hazardous a thing it is, to rely upon a

QUEEN MARY. 211

<5ealh-be(l repentance : I am not now to begin the
great work of preparing for death ; and, I praise
God, I am not afraid of it." Under the weight
of her disorder, which v/as very trying to nature,
she appeared to feel no inward depression or dis-
couragement of mind. A willingness to die, and
an entire resignation to the will of God, accom-
panied her to the closing scene ; in the near ap-'
proach of which she declared, that " she experi-
enced the joys of a good conscience, and the pow-
er of religion giving her supports, which even
the last agonies could not shake." Thus died this
most excellent princess ; and, no doubt, passed
from an earthly to a heavenly crown, " a crown
of glory that shall never fade away."

The contemplation of so peaceful and happy
conclusions of life, as this, and others which are
mentioned in the -present work, is sufficient,
at times, to elevate the soul, and to make all
the glories and enjoyments of this transient scene,
sink into nothing. Ah ! these are favoured, pre-
cious moments, when the Divine Power of Re-
ligion breaks in upon us, dissolves the enchant-
ment of the world, dissipates the mist of vain
doubts and speculation, and raises a fervent aspira-
tion, that whatever may be our allotment through
life, we may die the death of the righteous, and
the love of God be our portion for ever !

SECTION II,

BOERHAAVE.

Herman Boeriiaave, one of the greatest pljy-
slcians, and best of men, was born in Holland, in
the year 166S. This illustrious person, whose
name has been spread throughout the world, and
who left at his death above two hundred thousand
pounds sterling, was, at his first setting out in life,
oblisccd to teach the mathematics to obtain a ne-
cessary support. His abilities, industry, and great
merit, soon gained him friends, placed him in easy
circumstances, and enabled him to be bountiful to
others.

The knowledo-e and learnintr of this ffreat man,
however uncommon, hold, in his character, but
the second place ; his virtue was yet much more
uncommon than his literar}'- attainments. He was
an admirable example of temperance, fortitude,
humility, and devotion. His piety, and profound
sense of his dependance on God, were the basis of
all his virtues, and the principle of his whole
conduct. He was too sensible of his weakness to
ascribe any thing to himself, or to conceive that
he could subdue passion, or withstand temptation
by liis own natural power: he attributed every
good thought and every laudable action to the Fa
ther of Goodness. Being once asked by a friend,

212,

BOEHIIAAVE. 213

who had often admired his patience under great
provocations, whether he had ever been under the
influence of anger, and by what means he had so
entirely suppressed that impetuous and ungovern-
able passion ; he answered, with the utmost frank-
ness and sincerity, that he was naturally quick of
resentment, but that he had, by daily prayer and
meditation, at length attained to this mastery over
himself.

As soon as he rose in the morning, it was,
through life, his daily practice, to retire for an
hour for private prayer and meditation. This, he
often told his friends, gave him spirit and vigour
in the business of the day ; and this he therefore
commended as the best rule of life : for nothing, he
knew, can support the soul in all distresses, but
confidence in the Supreme Being ; nor can a steady
and rational magnanimity flow from any other
source than a consciousness of the Divine favour.

He asserted, on all occasions, the Divine author-
ity of the Holy Scriptures. The excellence of the
Christian religion was the frequent subject of his
conversation. A strict obedience to the doctrine,
find a dilfgent imitation of the example, of our
blessed Saviour, he often declared to be the found-
Rtion of true tranquillity. He was liberal to the
distressed, but without ostentation. He often
obliged his friends in such a manner, that they

214 BOERHAAVE.

knew not, unless by accident, to whom they were
indebted. He was condescending to all, and par-
ticularly attentive in his profession. He used to
say, that the life of a patient , if trifled with or neg-
lected, would one day be required at the hand
of the physician. He called the poor his best pa-
tients : for God, said he, is their paymaster. In
conversation, he was cheerful and instructive ; and
desirous of promoting every valuable end of social
intercourse. He never regarded calumny and
detraction ; (for Boerhaave himself had enemies ;)
nor ever thought it necessary to confute them.
"They are sparks," said he, "which if you do
not blow them, will go out of themselves. The
surest remedy against scandal, is, to live it down
Dy perseverance in well-doing ; and by praying to
• God, that he would cure the distem.pered minds
of those who traduce and injure us.'*

About the middle of the year 1737, he felt tha
first approaches of that lingering disorder, which
at length brought him to the grave. During this
afflictive illness, his constancy and firmness did
not forsake him. He neither intermitted the ne
cessary cares of life, nor forgot the proper prepa
rations for death.

He related to a friend, with great concern, tha
once his patience so far gave way to extremity
of pain, that, after having lain fifteen hours in

BOERHAAYE, 2^5

exquisite tortures, he prayed to God that he might
be set free by death. His friend, by way of con-
solation, answered, that he thought such wishes,
when forced by continued and excessive torments,
unavoidable in the present state of human nature ;
that the best men, even Job himself, were not
able to refrain from such starts of impatience.
This he did not deny, but said, " He that loves
God, ought to think nothing desirable but what
is most pleasing to the Supreme Goodness."

Such were his sentiments, and such his conduct,
in this state of weakness and pain. As death
advanced nearer, he was so far from terror or
confusion, that he seemed even less sensible of
pain, and more cheerful under his torments. He
died, much honoured and lamented, in the 70th
year of his age.

In contemplating the character of this excel-
lent man, what strikes us most is, that far from
being made impious by philosophy, or vain by
knowledge or by virtue, he ascribed all his abili-
ties to the bounty, and all his goodness to the grace,
of God. " May his example," says Dr. John-
son, his biographer, " extend its influence to his
admirers and follovv^ers ! May those who study
his writings, imitate his life ; and those who
endeavour after his knowledge, aspire likewise
to his piety !"

SECTION III.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

Joseph Addison, a celebrated English v/ritcr,
was born at Milston, in Wiltshire, in the 3'ear
1672. About the age of fifteen, he was entered
at Queen's college, Oxford, where, by his fine
parts and great application, he made a surprisiisg
proficiency in classical learning. Before he left
the university, he w^as warmly solicited to enter
into orders ; and he once resolved to do so : but
his great modesty, and an uncommonly delicate
sense of the importance of the sacred function,
made him afterwards alter his resolution. He was
highly respected by many of the greatest, and the
most learned of his contemporaries. He travelled
into Italy, where he made many useful observa-
tions, and prepared materials for some of his lite
rary works. On his return to England, he was
chosen one of the lords commissioners for trade
In 1709, he was appointed secretary to the lord
lieutenant of Ireland: and in 1717, was advanced
to the high office of secretary of state.

His writings have been of great use to the world ;
and his " Evidences of the Christian Religion,'*
not the least so. Dr. Johnson, in delineating hi»

216

JOSEPH ADDISON. 217

character, as a writer, gives the following amiable
picture of him : " He employed wit on the side
of virtue and religion. He not only made the
proper use of wit himself, but taught it to others ;
and, from his time, it has been generally sub-
servient to the cause of reason and truth. He has
dissipated the prejudice that had long connected
cheerfulness with vice, and easiness of manners
with laxity of principles. He has restored virtue
to its dignity, and taught innocence not to be
ashamed. This is an elevation of literary charac
ter, above all Greek, above all Roman, fame.
As a teacher of wisdom, he may be confidently
followed. His religion has nothing in it enthusi-
astic or superstitious ; he appears neither weakly
credulous, nor wantonly skeptical ; his morality is
neither dangerously lax, nor impracticably rigid.
All the enchantment of fancy, and all the cogency
of argument are employed to recommend to the
reader his real interest, the care of pleasing the
Author of his being."

Of his integrity in discharging the duties of his
office, there is a striking proof recorded. When
he was secretary in Ireland, he had materially
promoted the interest of an individual, who offered
him, in return, a bank note of three hundred
pounds, and a diamond ring of the same value.
These he strenuously refused to accept : and wrote
to the person as follows : — " And now, sir, believe

2J3 JOSEPH ADDISON,

me, when I assure you, I never did, nor ever wilt,
on an}'- pretence whatsoever, take more than the
stated and customary fees of my office. I might
keep the contrary practice concealed from the
world, were I capable of it ; but I could not from
myself! and I hope I shall always fear the re-
proaches of my own heart more than those of all
mankind."

A mind conscious of its own uprightness, and
humbly trusting in the goodness of God, has the
best ground to look forward with complacency
towards another life. The following lines of
Addison are sweetly expressive of the peace and
pleasure which he enjoyed, in contemplating his
future existence : — " The prospect of a future
state is the secret comfort and refreshment of my
soul. It is that which makes nature look cheerful
about me ; it doubles all my pleasures, and sup-
ports me under all my afflictions. I can look at
disappointments and misfortunes, pain and sick-
ness, death itself, with indifference, so long as I
keep in view the pleasures of eternity, and the
state of being in which there will be no fears nor
apprehensions, pains or sorrows."

The virtue of this excellent man shone brightest
at the point of death. After a long and manly,
but vain struggle with his distempers, he dismissed
his physicians, and with them all hopes of life ; but

JOSEPH ADDISON. 219

with his hopes of life he dismissed not his concern
for the living. He sent for Lord Warwick, a
youth, nearly related to him, and finely accom-
plished, but irregular in conduct and principle ;
on whom his pious instructions and example had
not produced the desired effect. Lord W^wick
came : but life now glimmering in the socket, the
dymg friend Vv^as silent. After a decent and pro-
per pause, the youth said : " Dear sir ! you sent
for me : I believe, and hope you have some com
mands : I shall hold tliem most dear." — May the
reader not only feel the reply, but retain its im-
pression ! Forcibly grasping the youth's hand,
Addison softly said : " See in what peace a
Christian can die!" — He spoke with difficulty,
and soon expired. Through divine grace, how
great is man ! Through divine mercy, how sting-
less death !

SECTION IV.
ANN BAYNARD.

Ann Baynard was descended from an ancicfit
rjid respectable family, and was born in the
year 1672. She possessed strong powers of
mind ; understood the learned languages ; and
made considerable acquisitions in the arts and
sciences. She took great delight in study, and
seemed to know no bounds in the pursuit of
learning and knowledge. But when she formed
a serious estimate of things, and compared the
liighest accomplishments of this life, with the
possession of Divine Peace, and the hope of eter
nal happiness, her extreme love of learning, and
of the distinctions that accompany it, abated.
She then declared, that " she counted all things
but loss, in comparison of the excellence of the
knowledge of Christ Jesus her Lord ; and that
human learning is worth but little, unless it
serve as a handmaid to the knovv'ledge of Christ
revealed in the Gospel, as our only Lord and
Saviour." " What avails," said she, " Solomon's
skill in the Avorks of nature, if by it we are not
brought to see the God of nature ? What advan .
tage is it to be so learned in astronomy, or the
knowledge of the heavens, that we can foretel

220

ANN BAYNARD. 221

things to come, if we never study, by our holy
practice, to arrive at the blessed regions ? What
advantage is it, to be so skilful in arithmetic, that
we can divide and subdivide to the smallest
fraction, if, as God has revealed unto us in his
holy word, we do not learn to number our days,
and apply our hearts to wisdom '{ What advantage
is it, for a physician to know how to prevent or
cure the disease of the body, if he knows not
where to find the balm of Gilead, the wine and
oil of the good Samaritan, the Lord Jesus Christ,
to pour into the wounds of his own soul ?"

The mind of this excellent woman was much
raised above the vanities of this world, its gayeties
and splendour. Having experienced the happi-
ness of a devout and pious life, she had no
relish for -pleasures of a different nature. She
had a high veneration for the Author of her
being, and made it her great business to promote
his liQ^iour and glory. She observed, with deep
concern, the errors, follies, and vices of the age ;
and was not only importunate in her intercessions
for the good of the world, but solicitous to benefit
the souls of those with whom she conversed, by
friendly reproof, good counsel, or pious discourse.
But the period of her life and labours was of
short duration ; for she was only twenty-five
years of age when she died.

SECTION T.
ELIZABETH ROWE.

Elizabeth Rowe, the daughter of a very re-
spectable dissenting minister, was born at Ilches-
ter, in Somersetshire, in the year 1674. She dis-
covered early symptoms of fine parts ; and as her
strongest bent was to poetry, she began to write
verses at twelve years of age. She possessed un-
common elegance of mind, and exquisite sensi-
bility. She also manifested a pious and devout
disposition, even w^hen she was very young. It
was a peculiar happiness to her, that, early in life,
she enjoyed the friendship of the pious Bishop
Ken ; at whose request she wrote a para-
phrase on the 38th chapter of Job.

Her shining merit, and various accomplish-
ments, procured her many admirers : but the
person who obtained her in marriage, was Tiiomas
Rowe, a gentleman of uncommon parts and learn-
ing, and of great worth. The connexion proved
happy, but was of short duration. The husband
of this excellent woman died of a consumption at
twenty-eight years of age, having lived with his
amiable consort scarcely five years. The elegy
which she composed upon his death, is one of her
best poems.

222

ELIZABETH ROWE. 223

After the decease of her husband, the world
appeared in her view with less attraction than
ever. She retired to her estate at Frome, where
she spent the remainder of her days. In this re-
treat, the religious temper of her mind increased ;
and here she wrote the greater part of her works.
Her book entitled, " Devout Exercises of the
Heart, in Meditation and Soliloquy, Praise and
Prayer," has been much read and commended.
This work she sealed up, and directed it to be
delivered to Dr. Watts, after her decease ; with
a letter to him, in which she gives some account
both of the work and of herself. The letter
contains so much of a devout and Christian
Spirit, that we shall insert a part of it in this col-
lection.

" The * Reflections' were occasionally written,
and only for my own improvement ; but T am not
without hope that they may have the game salu-
tary effect on some pious minds, as reading the
experience of others has had on my own soul.
The experimental part of religion has generally
a greater influence than the theory of it; and if,
when 1 am sleeping in the dust, these solilo-
quies should kindle a flame of divine love, even
in the heart of the lowest and most despised
Christian, be the glory given to the great Spring
of all grace and benignity !"

224 ELIZABETH ROWE.

" I have now done with mortal things, and all
to come is vast eternity ! — Eternity ! how trans-
porting is the sound ! As long as God exists, my
being and happiness are, I doubt not, secure.
These unbounded desires, which the wide creation
cannot limit, shall be satisfied for ever. I shall
drink at the fountain-head of pleasure, and be
refreshed with the emanations of original hfe and
joy. I shall hear tlie voice of uncreated har-
mony, speaking peace and ineffable consolation
to my soul.

" I expect eternal life, not as a reward of merit,
but as a pure act of bounty. Detesting myselt
in every view I can take, I fly to the righteous-
ness and atonement of my great Redeemer, for
pardon and salvation : this is my only consolation
and hope. Enter not into judgment, O Lord,
with thy servant ; for in thy sight shall no flesh
be justified. Through the blood of the Lamb, I
hope for an entire victory over the last enemy ;
and that, before this comes to you, I shall havo
reached the celestial heights ; and, while you
are reading these lines, I shall be adoring be-
fore the throne of God ; where faith shall be
turned into vision, and these languishing desires
satisfied with the full fruition of inomortal love.
Amen."

SECTION VI.
DOCTOR WATTS.

Isaac Watts, a learned and eminent dissent-
ing minister, was born at Southampton, in the
year 1674, of parents who were distinguished by
their piety and virtue. He possessed uncom-
mon genius, and gave early proofs of it. He re-
ceived a very liberal education, which was ren-
dered highly beneficial to him, by his own un-
wearied efforts to improve himself. After the
most serious deliberation, he determined to de-
vote his life to the ministry ; of the importance of
which office he had a deep and awful sense. He
laboured very dihgently to promote the instruc-
tion and happiness of the people under his care :
and, by his Christian conduct and amiable dispo-
sition, greatly endeared himself to them.

Soon after he had undertaken the pastoral
office, his heakh sustained a severe shock, by a
painful and dangerous illness ; from which he re-
covered very slowly. But in the year 1712, he
was afflicted with a violent fever, that entirely
broke his constitution, and left such weakness
upon his nerves as continued with him, in some
measure, to the day of his death. For four years,
he was wholly prevented from discharging the

225

226 DOCTOR WATTS.

public offices of his station. Thougli this xong in-
terval of sickness was, no doubt, very trying to his
active mind, yet it proved ultimately a blessing :
for it drew upon him the particular notice of
Sir Thomas Abney, a very pious and worthy man,
who, from motives of friendship, invited him into
his family : in which he continued to the end of
his life ; and, for the long space of thirty-six
years, was treated with uniform kindness, atten-
tion, and respect.

Dr. Johnson's judicious account of Watts, ex-
hibits him, both as a man and a writer, in a very
pleasing light. We shall select from it a few
striking passages : —

" This excellent man was, by his natural tem-
per, quick of resentment ; but, by his established
and habitual practice, he was gentle, modest,
and inoffensive. His tenderness appeared in his
attention to children, and to the poor. To the
poor, while he lived in the family of his friend,
he allowed the third part of his annuai revenue ;
and for children, he condescended to lay aside
the scholar, the philosopher, and the wit, to
write little poems of devotion, and systems of
instruction, adapted to their wants and capacities,
from the dawn of reason through its gradations of
advance in the morning of life. — Few men have
left behind them such purity of character, or

DOCTOR WATTS. 227

sucli monuments of laborious piety. He has pro-
vided instruction for all ages, from those who are
lisping their first lessons, to the enlightened readers
of Malbranche and Locke. — His "Improvement
of the Mind," is a work in the highest degree
useful and pleasing. — Whatever he took in hand
was, by his incessant solicitude for souls, convert-
ed to theology. As piety predominated in his
mind, it is diffused over his works. Under his
direction it may be truly said, that philosophy is
subservient to evangelical instruction : it is diffi-
cult to read a page without learning, or at least
wishing, to be better."

The virtue of this good man eminently appear-
ed, in the happy state of his mind, under great
pains and weakness of body, and in the improve-
ment which ne derived from them. Of those sea-
sons of affliction, he says, with a truly elevated
mind and thankful heart : " I am not afraid to
let , the world know, that amidst the sinkings
of life and nature, Christianity and the Gospel
were my support. Amidst all the violence of
my distemper, and the tiresome months of it, I
•thank God, I never lost sight of reason, or reh-
gion, though sometimes T had much difficulty to
preserve the machine of animal nature in such
order, as regularly to exercise either the man or
the Christian."

228 DOCTOR WATTS»

The sweet peace of conscience he enjoyed, un-
der these trying circunnstances ; and the rational
and Christian foundation of his hope and trust in
the Divine Goodness ; are beautifully and justly
expressed by him in the following lines : —

" Yet, gracious God ! amid these storms of nature,
Thine eyes behold a sweet and sacred calm
Reign through the realms of conscience: all within
Lies peaceful, all composed. 'Tis wondrous Grace
Keeps off thy terrors from this humble bosom ;
Though stain'd with sins and follies, yet serene
In penitential peace and cheerful hope,
Sprinkled and guarded with atoning blood.
Thy vital smiles, amidst this desolation,
Like heav'nly sun-beams, hid behind the clouds,
Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance
Cleaving the gloom ; the fair celestial light
Softens and gilds the horrors of the storm.
And richest cordials to the heart conveys.

" O glorious solace of immense distress,
A conscience and a God ! This is my rock
Of firm support, my shield of sure defence
Against infernal arrows. Rise, my soul!
Put on thy courage : here's the living spring
Of joys divinely sweet and ever new,
A peaceful conscience, and a smiling Heav'n.

DOCTOR WATTS. ' 229

^My God, permit a creeping worm to say.
Thy Spirit knows I love thee ! — Worthless wretch,
To dare to love a God ! — But grace requires,
And grace accepts. Thou seest my lab'ring souL
Weak as my zeal is, yet my zeal is true ;
It bears the trying furnace. Love divine
Constrains me : I am thine. Incarnate Love
Has seized, and holds me in almighty arms !
Here 's my salvation, my eternal hope,
Amidst the wreck of worlds and dying nature,
I am the Lord's, and he 's for ever mine !"

When his sufferings were, in some degree, al-
leviated, what excellent effects were produced in
his mind ! How was his heart enlarged with lore
and gratitude to God ! and in what pathetic lan-
guage did he pour out his spirit !

" Almighty Power, I love thee! blissful name,
My healer God ! and may my inmost heart
Love and adore for ever ! O 'tis good
To wait submissive at thy holy throne,
To leave petitions at thy feet, and bear
Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul!
The hand of mercy is not short to save,
Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf
To mortal cries. It noticed all ray groans,

230 DOGTOR WATTS^

And sighs, and long complaints, with wise delay,
Though painful to the suff'rer; and thy hand
la proper moment brought desired relief,"

And now, how amiable does he appear^ when
the slmdows of the evening were stretching over
him ! Two or three years before his decease, the
active and sprightly powers of his nature gradu-
ally failed; yet his trust in God, through Jesus
the Mediator, remained unshaken to the last. He
-was heard to say : " I bless God I can lie dowa
with comfort at night, not being solicitous whether
I awake in this world or another." And again :
** 1 should be glad to read more ; yet not in order
to be further confirmed in the truth of the Chris-
tian religion, or in the truth of its promises ; for I
believe tiiem enough to venture an eternity upon-
tliem."

When he was almost worn out, and broken
down by his infirmities, he said, in conversation
with a friend ; " I remember an aged minister
used to obseiTC, that 'the most learned and know-
ing Christians, when they come to die, have only
the same plain promises of the Gospel for their
sup})ort, as the common and unlearned :* and so,
1 find it. It is the plain promises of the Gospel
ihaLSire my support ; and, I bless God, they are
plain promises, that do not require much labour
and pains to understand them."

DOCTOR WATTS. 231

At times, when he found his spirit tending to
impatience, and ready to complain that he could
only lead a mere animal hfe, he would check him-
self thus : " The business of a Christian is, to
bear the will of God, as well as to do it. If I were
in health, 1 ought to be doino; it, and now it is
my duly to bear it. The best thing in obedience,
is a regard to the will of God ; and the way to
that is, to have our inclinations and aversions as
much mortified as Ave can."

With so calm and peaceful a mind, so blessed
and lively a hope, did the resigned servant of
Christ wait for his Master's summons. He quietly
expired in the 75th year of his age.

CHAPTER VIII.

Colonel Gardiner — Lady Elizabeth Hastings— 11. Hous-
man — Doctor Doddridge.

SECTION I.

COLONEL GARDINER.

James Gardiner, a native of Scotland, waa
born in the year 1688. He received great part
of his education, at a school at Linlithgow, where
he made a very considerable progress in the lan-
guages. His mother, with great tenderness and
solicitude for his future happiness, instructed
him in the principles of Christianity. The
good effects of her prudent and exemplary care,
were not, in the younger part of her son's life,
so evident as she desired ; hut there is great
reason to believe, that her instructions were nol
lost. They were the occasion of many convic
tions, which, though for a time overborne, were
afterwards happily remembered and revived. He
used to make this observation for the encourage
ment of parents and pious frieads, to do their duty

oqo

COLONEL GARDINER. 233

towards young persons, and to hope for the
best effects, though they may not immediately
appear, s

He was a man of sound understanding, and ci
a frank, obliging, and generous temper. From
the persuasions of a friend, and the ardour of hia
own spirit, he early engaged in a military life.
He was often in imminent danger of death, and
had several escapes, which may justly be consid-
ered as providential : but, in his unconverted
state, he never viewed them in that light; and
they made no serious impression on his mind. For
many years after he had attained the age of man-
hood, he appears to have devoted himself to sen-
sual pursuits. With a strong constitution of body,
great flow of animal spirits, fine personal accom-
phshments, and a large circle of gay and dissipa-
ted companions, he seemed as amply qualified as
most men, to range in the field of animal enjoy-
ments, and to extract from it all that is capable of
yielding. Yet this complete sensualist, in the
meridian of his joys, bitterly experienced, that
" even in laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the
end of that mirth is heaviness." Beins: at one
time congratulated by some of his dissolute com-
panions, on his distinguished felicity, and a dog
happening to coZDe into the room, he could not
forbear groaning avardly, and saying to himself,
" Oh ! that I we 1 iat dog !" Such was then his

20*

234 COLONEL GARDINER.

happiness ; and such, perhaps, is that of hundreds
more, who express the greatest contempt of reli-
gion, and glory in a miserable servitude, which
they affect to call liberty.

His continual neglect of the great Author of his
being, of whose perfections he could not doubt^
and to whom he knew himself to be under daily
and perpetual obligations, gave him, in some
moments of involuntary reflection, inexpressible
remorse ; and this, at times, wrought upon hin'.
to such a degi'ee, that he resolved he would at
tempt to pay him some acknowledgments. Ac
cordingly, for a time he did it ; repeating, in
retirement, passages out of the Psalms, and per-
haps other Scriptures, which he still retained in
his memory ; and owning, in a few strong words,
the many mercies and deliverances he had re-
ceived, and the ill returns he had made for them.
But these emotions were too devout to continue
long in a heart as yet quite unsanclified : for how
readily soever he could repeat acknov^ledgments
of the Divine Power, Presence, and Goodness,
and own his follies and faults, he was stopped short
by the remonstrances of his conscience, on the
flagrant absurdity of confessing sins he did not de-
sire to forsake ; and of pretending to praise God
for his mercies, though he did not endeavour to
live in his service, and to behave in such a manner
as gratitude, if sincere, would have dictated.

COLONEL GARDINER. 235

About tlie thirty-first year of his age, it pleased
^od to make him deeply sensible of the great
wickedness of his life, and of the dreadful con-
sequences of persisting in it. He became truly
penitent, lived ever afterwards with great circum-
spection, and was a bright and steady example of
piety and goodness.

After this great change in his heart and life, lie
did not entirely withdraw himself from cheerful
conversation; but, on the contrary, gave several
hours every day to it, lest religion should be re-
proached, as having made iiim morose. lie,
however, early began a practice, which to the
last day of his life he retained, of reproving vice
and profaneness ; and, under the consciousness of
his superiority in the goodness of his cause, he was
never afraid to debate the matter with any person.
A remarkable instance of this happened about the
middle of the year 1720. It was on his first re-
turn, to make any considerable abode in England,
after his singular conversion. He had heard,
whilst he was at Paris, that it was currently re-
ported among his companions in England, that he
was stark mad. He concluded, therefore, that he
should have many battles to fight, and was willing
to despatch the business as fast as he could. And,
therefore, intending to spend a few days at the
country-house of a person of distinguished ranlc,
with whom he had been very intimate, he desired

236 COLON£L GAIIDXNER.

him to contrive that, a day or two after he ctime,
several of their former gay companions should
meet at his lordship's table ; that he might have
an opportunity of making his apology to them,
and of acquainting them with the nature and rea-
sons of his change. It was accordingly agreed to ;
and a pretty large company met on the day ap-
pointed, with previous notice that Major Gardiner
would be there. A good deal of raillery passed
at dinner, to which the major made very little
answer. But when the cloth was taken away, and
the servants had retired, he begged the patience
of the company for a few mrnutes : and tlTen
plainly and seriously informed them what were
his sentiments of religion and virtue ; and on what
ground he had determined, that, by the grace of
God, he would make religion the great business
of his life, whatever he might lose by it, and
whatever censure and contem-pt he might incur.
He then challenged them to propose any thing
they could urge, to prove that a life of irreligion
and debauchery was preferable to the fear, love,
and worship, of the eternal God, and a conduct
agreeable to the precepts of the Gospel. And he
failed not to bear testimony, from his own exj)e-
rience, (to a part of which many of them had been
witnesses,) that after having run the widest round
of sensual pleasure, with all the advantages which
the best constitution and spirits could give him,
lie had never tasted any thing that deserved to be

COLONEL GARDIXER. 237

called happiness, till he had made religion his
refuge and his delight. He described, calmly and
boldly, the habitual serenity and peace that he
now felt in his own breast, (for the most ele-
vated delights he did not think fit to plead, lest
they should be esteemed enthusiasm,) and the
composure and pleasure with which he looked
forward to objects, which the gayest sinner
must acknowledge to be equally unavoidable
and dreadful.

After this solemn and manly defence of his
principles and conduct, the master of the table,
who was a sensible and candid person, said to the
company : " Come, let us call another cause. We
thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest
proving that we are so." — On the whole, this
well-judged circumstance saved him a great deal
of trouble. When his former acquaintance ob-
served, that he was still conversable and inno-
cently cheerful, and that he was immoveable in
his resolutions, they desisted from farther impor-
tunity. And he afterwards declared, that instead
of losing any one valuable friend, by this change
in his character, he found himself much more
esteemed and regarded by many, who could not
persuade themselves to imitate his example.

The private letters of this amiable man, show
die religious state of his mind, and what great

238 COLONEL GARDINER.

enjoyment he derived from communion with the
Father of spirits. We shall make a few extracts
from some of them, which were written to his
wife, and to an intimate friend : —

" I should be glad to hear what wise and good
people, among you, think of the present circum-
stances of things. For my own part, though I
thank God I fear nothing for myself, my appro
hensions for the public are ver}'- gloomy, consider-
ing the deplorable prevalence of almost all kinds
of wickedness amongst us : the natural consequence
of the contempt of the Gospel. I am daily offer-
ing up my prayers to God for this sinful land of
ours, over which his judgment seems to be gather-
ing ; and my strength is sometimes so exhausted
with those strong cries and tears, which I pour out
before God on this occasion, that I am hardly able
to stand when I arise from my knees."

" I bless God I was never better in my life ;
and I wish I could be so happy as to hear the
same of you, or rather, in other words, to
hear that you had obtained an entire trust in
God. That would infallibly keep you in perfect
peace ; for the God of truth has promised it.
Oh ! how "ought we to long to be with Christ ;
which is infinitely better than any thing we can
propose here ! to be there, where all complaints
shall be for ever banished ; where no mountains

COLONEL GAaJi)INER. S30

isliall separate between God and o^r souls ! And I
i^ope it will be some addition to our happiness,
ihat you and I shall be separated no more ; but
that, as we have joined in singing the praises of
our glorious Redeemer here, we shall sing tliem in
a much higher strain, through an endless eternity.'*

Speaking of one of his children, who, he had
heard, made a commendable progress in learning,
he expressed his satisfaction in it, and added : " But
how much greater joy would it give me, to hear
that he was greatly advanced in the school of Christ!
Oh ! that our children may be wise to salvation ;
tmd may grow in grace as they do in stature !"

On another occasion he writes thus : — " What
would I have given this day, upon the road, for
paper, pen, and ink, when the Spirit of the Most
High rested upon me ! 0 ! for the pen of a ready
writer, and the tongue of an angel, to declare
what God has done this day for my soul ! But, in
short, it is in vain to attempt it ; all that I am able
to say, is only this, that my soul has been for
some hours joining with the blessed spirits above,
m giving glory, and honour, and praise, unto him
that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb
for ever and ever."

Such were the elevations of his mind: yet
there are many who will be inclined to censure

240 COLOJNEL tJAIiDINEKr

them, as the flights of enthusiasm. But when we
consider the scriptural phrases, " of walking with
God ; of having communion with the Father and
his Son Jesus Christ; of Christ's coming to them
that open the' door of their hearts to him, and
supping with them ; of God's shedding abroad
his love in the heart by his Spirit; of his coming
with Jesus Christ, and making his abode with any
one that loves him ; of making us glad by the
light of his countenance ;" and a variety of other
equivalent expressions ; we shall see reason to
judge very favourably of the sentiments contained
in these letters. If habitual love to God ; firm
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ ; a steady depend-
ance on the divine promises : a full persuasion
of the wisdom -and goodness of all the dispen
sations of Providence ; a high esteem for the
blessings of the heavenly world ; and a sincere
contempt for the vanities of this ; can properly
be called enthusiasm, then was Colonel Gardiner,
indeed, one of the greatest enthusiasts our ao-e has
produced : and in proportion to the degi'ce in
w^hich he was so, he must be esteemed one of the
wisest and happiest of mankind. — " How often,"
says the pious Grove, " are good thoughts suggest
ed, heavenly affections kindled and inflamed !
how often is the Ch.ristian prompted to holy
actions, drawn to his duty, restored, quickened^
persuaded, in such a manner, that he would be
unjust to the Spirit of God, to question his agency

COLONEL GARDINER. 241

in the whole ! Yes, O my soul ! there is a Su-
preme Being, who governs the world, and is pre-
sent with it ; who takes up his more special habi-
tation in good men, and is nigh to all who call
upon him, to sanctify and assist them ! Hast thou
not felt him, O my soul ! like another soul, actu-
ating thy faculties, exalting thy views, purifying
thy passions, exciting thy graces, and begetting
in thee an abhorrence of sin, and a love of holi-
ness ? And is not all this an argument of his pres-
ence, as truly as if thou didst see him ?"

The cheerful and happy state of mind, for
which this excellent man had been remarkable,
continued with him to the last. It seems, indeed,
that towards the close of life, his pious fervours,
like the flame of a lamp almost expiring, some-
times rose to an unusual blaze. " O !" said he,
on a particular occasion, " how gracious a Master
do we serve ! hoAV pleasant is his service ! how
rich are the entertainments of his love ! yet how
poor and cold are our services !"

When he found his health declining, and en-
tertained a fixed sentiment that he should continue
but a little while longer in life, he was so far
from being depressed with the prospect, that he
was delighted with it, and rejoiced the nearer
his end approached. The holy Scriptures, with
which he had as intimate an acquaintance as most

242 COLONEL GARDINER.

men, continued to be his daily study. They
furnished him with frequent matter of conversa
tion, much to the edification and comfort of those
that were about him. Among other passages he
spoke of the following, as having made a deep
impression on his mind : *' My soul, wait thou
only upon God !" He would repeat it again and
again, " Only, only, only !" so plainly did he
see, and so deeply did he feel, the vanity of all
earthly confidences and expectations. He often
mentioned these words in Isaiah, as verified to
him by long experience : " Thou wilt keep him
in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee ;
because he trusteth in thee." And with peculiar
satisfaction he uttered these heroic words in Ha
bakkuk, which he found armour of proof against
every fear, and every contingence : " Though
the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit
be in the vines ; the labom: of the olive shall fail,
and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flocks shall
be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd
in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will
joy in the God of my salvation."

He died in the 57th year of his age.

SECTION II.
LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS.

In the life, sufferings, and death, of Lady Eliza-
beth Hastings, we have a hvely instance of the
power and support of rehgion.

An ingenuous temper, a quickness of under-
standing, a benevolent spirit, a flexibility of na-
ture, and a solemn sense of divine things, were
observable in her tender age ; and, in the danger-
ous ascent of life, her feet were guided and pre-
served in the paths of rectitude and goodness ; so
that she was not only free from the stain of vice
in her rising years, but superior to the world,
and its vain and triflinfr amusements. Throudi
the whole course of her time, her lamp shone
brightly ; and in mature age, diffused its light and
influence in a wide extent around her.

It appears that the great aim of her life was,
to promote the glory of God, and the welfare of
men, keeping her talents, extensive fortune, and
other means of doing good, continually employed
for the benefit of her fellow-creatures. Of all her
cares, a most special one was that of the stranger,

244

LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 245

the fatlierless and the widow ; the needy, and
him that had no helper ; the lame, the halt, and
the blind. These objects excited her most tender
compassion. She participated in their sufferings ;
she often conversed with them ; and inquired into
their history, with great condescension. She
studied their particular cases, and put them in
the way of improving their condition. She often
visited them in sickness, bore the expenses of it ;
and, no doubt, endeavoured to cheer and en-
courage them under all the apparent hardships
of their allotment.

The following • character of this noble-minded
woman, was drawn by the hand of an eminent
writer : — " Her countenance was the lively picture
of her mind, which was the seat of honour, truth,
compassion, knowledge, and innocence. In the
midst of the most ample fortune, and the venera-
tion of all that beheld and knew her, without the
least affectation, she devoted herself to retire-
ment, to the contemplation of her own being,
and of that supreme Power which bestowed it.
Without the learning of schools, or knowledge of
a lontT course of arguments, she went on in an
uninterrupted course of piety and virtue ; and
added to the severity and privacy of the last age,
all the freedom and ease of this. The lan(Tua2;e
and mien of a court she was possessed of in a
high degree; but the simplicity and humble

21*

246 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS.

thoughts of a cottage, were her more welcome
■entertainments. Slie was a female philosopher,
who did not only live up to the resignation of
the most retired lives of the ancient sages, but
also to the schemes and plans which they thought
beautiful, though inimitable. This lady was the
most exact economist, without appearing busy ;
the most strictly virtuous, without tasting the
praise of it ; and shunned applause with as much
industry as others do reproach."

Towards the close of life, she experienced
great bodily affliction, having a cancer in the
breast, for which she underwent an amputation.
But in all her sufferings from this cause, and even
under the trying operation, her religious forti-
tude and serenity of mind did not forsake her.
The resignation of her spirit to the dispensations
of Divine Providence, is strongly marked by the
following expressions, which dropped from her
during the course of this painful distemper : " I
would not wish to be out of my present situation,
for all the world ; nor exchange it for any other,
at any price."

The niglit subsequent to the operation did not
afford her much sleep, but it was a night of ce
leslial peace ; a time of thanksgiving to her God,
for the visible demonstration of his power in and
about her ; for his stretched-out arm in her great

LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 247

deliverance ; for the bountiful provisions he had
made for all the wants of her soul and body ;
and, in a word, for all his blessings conferred
upon her.

She was, sooner than expected, restored to a
comfortable state of health, and to that life of
charity and beneficence, which was the joy of
her heart : but the disorder, repressed only for a
time, appeared again with new malignity, and,
at length, put a period to all her sorrows. Her
lamp and her life were, however, to be extin-
guished together : she was pious and beneficent
to the last.

A short time before her departure, impressed
with a strong sense of Divine Goodness, she broke
out, with a raised accent, in the following man-
ner : " Lord ! what is it that I see ? O the great-
ness of the glory that is revealed in me ! that is
before me !" So joyful appears to have been her
entrance into the kingdom of her Lord and
Saviour. — She died in the year 1740.

The truly religious, whose evidences of a blessed
futurity, are clear, rational, and well founded,
have, at times, in their journey through life, a
tide of hope and joy springing up in their minds,
beyond expression ; a felicity more moving and
satisfactory than any can imagine, but they who

248 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS.

have, in some degree, experienced it. And
when they are just entering upon the promised
land, they are sometimes favoured to have the
splendour of the eternal day dawn upon them,
and to shine as through the breaches of their
shattered bodies ; raising in their spirits such an
earnest of happiness, such foretastes of joy, as
enable them to pass through the valley of death
in peace and triumph. What a rich reward for
all the crosses and conflicts of this probationary
scene and how animating a source of encourage-
ment, during our pilgrimage, to rise above, and
look beyond, all the troubles of time !

SECTION III.
H. HOUSMAN.

There are few greater instances of the happy
power of religion on the mind, than that which
was exhibited by an excellent and pious woman
of the name of Housman, when she drew near
the close of life.

She was born at Kidderminster, of religious
parents, who early instructed her in the duties of
religion. By her diary, it appears she was brought
under lively impressions of divine things, at thir-
teen years of age. From 1711. when her diary
begins, to 1735, the time of her death, her life
seems to have been a circumspect walking in the
fear of God. The following account of her last
illness and death, w'as drawn up by a person who
attended her throughout.

From the lime of her first seizure, she was
exercised with very violent pains, without any inter-
mission, till her death ; such as, she would Chen
say she tnought she could not have borne:
*' but," said she, " God is good ; verily he is
good to me ! I have found him a good and gracious
God to me all my days."

When recovering from extreme pain she said:

249

250 H. HOUSMAN.

"God is good; I have found him so; and though
he slay me, yet I wijl trust in him. These pains
make me love my Lord Jesus the better. O they
put me in mind of what he suffered, to purchase
salvation for my poor soul ! Why for me, Lord I
why for me, the greatest of sinners 1 Why for me,
who so long refused the rich offers of thy grace,
and the kind invitations of the Gospel ? How many
helps and means have I enjoyed more than many
others ; yea, above most ! — I had a religious
father and mother ; and I had access to a valuable
minister, to whom I could often and freely open
my mind. I have lived in a golden age. I have
lived in peaceable times, and have enjoyed great
advantages and helps for communion with God,
and the peace of my own mind : for which I owe
my gracious God and Father more praises than
words can express. Bless the Lord, O my soul,
and all that is within me bless his holy name !
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all, or
any, of his benefits !"

When any were weeping and mourning over
her, she would say : " Weep not for me ; it is the
will of God; therefore be content. If it may be
for his honour and glory, he will spare me a little
longer ; if not, I am wholly resigned to the wil!
of God. I am content to stay here, as long as he
has any thing for me to do, or to suffer; and I
am willing to go, if it be my Father's good plea

II. HOUSMAN. 251

sure. Therefore be content, and say, * It is the
Lord, let him do what seemeth to him good.' "

To a person who came to see her, she said :
" Cousin, I think I shall die : and now, what a
comfort it is, that I am not afraid of death ! The
blood of Christ cleanses me from all sin. But
mistake me not; there must be a life and conversa-
tion agreeable to the Gospel, or else our faith in
Christ is a dead faith. Secure Christ for your
friend ; set not your heart on things below : riches
and honours, and what the world calls pleasures,
are all fading, perishing things." She then threw
out her hand, and said : " O, if I had thousands
and ten thousands of gold and silver lying by me,
what could they do for me, now I am dying ?
Take the advice of a departing friend who wishes you
well. Do not set your affeclions on riches, or on
any thing here below. Remember, death will come
in a little while, whether you are ready or unready,
willing or unwilling. I commend you to God. I
hope, in a short time, we shall meet again in heaven,
that place of perfect rest, peace, and happiness."

The whole time of her sickness, she was in a
cheerful, thankful frame of mind. When she was
cold, and had something warm given to her, she
often said : " Blessed be God for all his mercies ;
and for this comfort in my affliction." On her at-
tendant's warming a piece of flannel, and putting

S5i: H. HOUSMA^

it round lier cold hands, she thanked her for it,
and said : " O, how many mercies I have ! I want
for nothing. Here is every thing I can wish for.
I can say, I never wanted any good thing. I wish
only for a tranquil passage to glory. It was free
Grace that plucked me from the very brink of hell ;
and it is the power of divine Grace, that has sup-
ported me through the whole of my life. Hitherto
I can say, the Lord is gracious. He has been very
merciful to me, in sustaining me under all my trials.
The Lord brings affliction, but it is not because he
dehghts to afflict his children : it is at all times for
our profit. I can say, it has been good for me to
be afflicted ; it has enabled me to discern things,
which, when I was in health, I could not perceive.
It has made me see more of the vanity and emptiness
of tliis world, and all its transient comforts ; for, at
best, they are but vanity. I can say from my own
experience, I have found them to be so many a time "

To her husband, the day before she died, she
said : *' My dear, I think I am going apace ; and
I hope you will be satisfied, because it is the will
of God. You have at all times been very lovinfj
and good to me ; and I thank you for it kindly
and now I desire you freely to resign me to God
If God sees it best to prolong my stay here upon
earth, I am willing to stay ; or, if he sees it best to
take me to himself, I am willing to go. I am willing
to be, and to bear, what may be most for his glory "

H. HOTJSMAN. 253

The evening before she died, she found deatli
steaUng upon her ; and, feeling her own pulse,
said : " Well, it will be but a little while before
my work in this world ^vill be finished. Then I
shall have done with prayer. My whole employ-
ment in heaven will be praise and love. Here, I
love God but faintly, yet, I hope, sincerely; bnt
there it will be perfectly. I shall behold his face in
righteousness ; for I am thy servant, Lord ! bought
witli blood, with precious blood. Christ died to
purchase the life of my soul. — A little while, and
then I shall l>e singing that sweet song, — * Blessing,
and honour, and glory, and power, be unto niM
that sitteth upon the throne, and to the lamb for
ever and ever.' "

With smiles in her face, and transports of joy,
she often said : " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly !
Why tarry the wheels of thy chariot ? O blessed
convoy ! come and fetch my soul, to dwell with
Ood, and Christ, and perfect spirits for ever and
ever. When I join that blessed society above, my
pleasures will never end. O the g^ory that shall
be set on the head of faith and love !"

A few minutes before her departure, finding
herself going, she desired to be lifted up. When
this was done, she cheerfully said : " Farewell sint
farewell pains !" — and so finished her course with
joy.

SECTION IV.

DOCTOR DODDRIDGE.

Philip Doddridge was born in London, in tils'
year 1702. His parents, who were persons of
great worth, brought him up in an early knowledge,
of religion : but he had the misfortune* to lose
them before he was fourteen years old. This cir-
cumstance excited in his mind very serious reflec-
tions, which, how^ever, were not wholly of a gloomy
nature ; for he expressed a devout, and even a
cheerful, trust in the protection of the God of
Mercies, the universal Parent of mankind.

He diligently improved his time, and was
anxious to be daily advancing in knowledge,
piety, virtue, and usefulness. Repossessed strong
powers of mind, and, by unwearied application,
acquired a large fund of sound and elegant learn
ing. His publications, which are chiefly on re-
ligious subjects, have been eminently useful to
the world. By his literary acquisitions, his ami-
able disposition, and his desire to imbue the
young mind with knowledge and virtue, Ee was
qualified, in a peculiar manner, to become the
instructor of youth ; and for many years he super-
intended a very respectable academy. As the
pastor cr a congregation, he manifested a sincere

254

DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 255

and zealous regard for the happiness of the peo-
ple under his care, by whom he was greatly hon
cured and beloved.

He possessed many virtues ; but the prime and
leading feature of his sonl, was devotion. He
was very solicitous to preserve and cultivate an
habitual sense of the Supreme Being; to maintain
and increase the ardour of religion in his heart ;
And to prepare himself, by devout exercises, fox
die important labours of his station. Nor was it
to his secret retirements that his piety w^as limited:
it was manifested in every part of the day, and
appeared in his usual intercourse with men. In
the little vacancies of time which occur to the
busiest of mankind, he was frequently lifting up
his soul to God. When he lectured on philos-
ophy, histor}^ anatomy, or other subjects not
immediately theological, he would endeavour to
graft some religious instructions upon them, that
he might raise the minds of his pupils to devotion,
as well as to knowledge ; and in his visits to his
people, the Christian friend and minister were
united.

The piety of Dr. Doddridge was accompanied
with the warmest benevolence to his fellow-crea-
tnres. No one could more strongly feel, that the
love of God must be united with love to man.
Nor was this a principle that rested in kind wishes,

256 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE.

and pathetic feelings for the happiness of others
but it was manifested in the most active exertions
for their welfare. No scheme of doing good was
ever suggested to him, into which he did not enter
with ardour. But the generosity of his mind was
the most displayed, when any plans of propaga-
ting religion, and of spreading the Gospel among
those who were strangers to it, were proposed.
In every thing of this kind, he was always ready
to take the lead, and was ardent in endeavouring
to inspire his friends with the same spirit.

He was of a weak and delicate bodily consti-
tution ; and a severe cold which he caught about
the forty-eighth year of his age, brought on a con-
sumption of the lungs. The nearer he approached
to his dissolution, the more plainly was observed
his continual improvement in a spiritual and
heavenly temper. Indeed, he seemed to have
risen above the world, and to be daily oreathing
after immortality. This disposition of his mind
was ardently expressed in several of his letters ;
and it is manifest from his will, which was made
at this time, and is prefaced in the following lan-
guage: "Whereas it is customary on these occa-
sions, to begin with commending the soul into
the hands of God, through Christ; I do it, not in
mere form, but with sincerity and joy ; esteeming
it my greatest happiness, that I am taught and
encouraged to do it, by that glorious Gospel,

DOCTOR CODDRIDGE. 257

which, having most assuredly believed it, I have
spent my life in preaching to others ; and which
I esteem an infinitely greater treasure than all my
little worldly store, or possessions ten thousand
times greater than mine."

Having made trial of the waters of Bristol, and
his health still continuing more and more to de-
clhie, he was advised by his physicians and
friends, as the last resort in so threatening a disor-
der, to remove to a warmer climate. He accord-
ingly went to Lisbon. His resignation lo the Di-
vine disposal is strongly marked in a letter, which
he wrote soon after his arrival there. After
mentioning his great weakness and danger, he
added : —

"Nevertheless, I bless God, the most undisturbed
serenity continues in my mind, and my strength
holds proportion to my day. I still hope and
trust in God, and joyfully acquiesce in all he may
do with me. When you see my dear friends of
the congregation, inform them of my circum-
stances, and assure them, that I cheerfully sub-
mit myself to God. If I desire life may be re-
stored, it is chiefly that it may be employed in
seiTing Christ among them. I am enabled, by
faith, to look upon death as an enemy that shall
be destroyed ; and can cheerfully leave my- dear
Mrs. Doddridge widow in a strange land, if

oo*

258 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE.

such be the appointment of our Heavenly Father.
I hope I have done my duty ; and the Lord do as
seemeth good in his sight."

Change of chmate did not produce the desired
effect, and Dr. Doddridge continued gradually
to weaken, till death put a period to his afflictions.
In his last hours, he preserved the same calmness,
vigour, and joy of mind, which he had felt and
expressed through the whole of his illness. The
only pain he had in the thought of dying, was the
fear of that grief and distress which his wife would
suffer from his rem.oval. To his children, his con-
gregation, and his friends in general, he desired
to be remembered in the most affectionate manner ;
nor did he, in the effusions of his pious benevo-
lence, forget the family where he lodged, or his
own servant. Many devout sentiments and aspi-
rations were uttered by him : but the heart of his
wife was too much affected with his approaching
change, to be able to recollect them distinctly.
Though he died in a foreign land, and, in a cer-
tain sense, among strangers, his decease was em-
balmed with many tears.*

* A judicious life of this excellent man, written by Dr. Kinpis,
is prefixed to ,he first volume of Dr. Doddridge's FairJly Ex*
positor.

CHAPTER IX.

Louis, Duke of Orleans — Soame Jenyns — Lord Lyttel-
ton — Jonas Hanway — Anthony Benezet — James Her-
vey — Altamontj or the Death of the Libertine

SECTION I.
LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS.

Louis, duke of Orleans, first prince of the
blood royal of France, and highly distinguished
for piety and learning, was born at Versailles, in
the year 1703. He was the son of Philip, duke
of Orleans, regent of France ; and of Mary
Frances of Bourbon. He discovered, in his very
childhood, a revp.rftnce for reh'gicm, a shining ge-
nius, and an enlarged understanding. At an early
age he became sensible of the vanity of titles, pre-
eminence, and all the splendour of life. He pro-
posed to himself a new mode of conduct, which
he afterwards pursued, dividing his time between
the duties peculiar to his rank, the exercises of a
Christian, and the studies which improve the mind.
He was, in every respect, a pattern of self-denial,
of piety, and of virtue.

259

260 LOinS, DUKE OF ORLEANS^

His religion was not merely contemplative ; for
he possessed a most extensive charity, and an en-
lightened zeal for the public good. The indigent
of every age, sex, and condition, excited his com-
passionate regard. He daily heard their com-
plaints, in one of the halls of the convent of St»
Genevieve ; he sympathized with them ; he alle-
viated their distresses. When it was not in his
power to dismiss them entirely satisfied, his heart
seemed to grant what necessity obliged Inm to
refuse. It is hardly to be imagined what sums this
pious prince expended, in placing children for
education in colleges and nunneries, in portioning
young women, endowing nuns, putting boys ap-
prentices, or purchasing for them their freedom ;,
m setting up unfortunate tradesmen in business
again, and preventing the ruin of others ; in re-
storing and supporting noblemen's families ; in
relieving the sick, and paying surgeons for their
attendance on them. Very often accompanied
by a single servant, he soui^ht after poor persons,
in chambers and garrets, and kindly administered
to their wants. He made great improvements m
physic, agriculture, arts, and manufactures. He pur-
chased, and published, a variety of useful remedies.
His gardens were filled with medicinal plants of
all sorts, brought from the most distant climates.

The delight he found in piety and devotion, he
used thus to express : " I know^ by experience^

LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 261

that sublunary grandeur and sublunary pleasure,
are delusive and vain ; and are always infinitely
below the conceptions we form of them: but, on
the contrary, such happiness, and such compla
ccnce, may be found in devotion and piety, as the
sensual mind has no idea of."

In his last illness, perceiving that death was
approaching, he prepared for it with the greatest
fortitude and composure ; and spoke of it, as of
the demise of another person. In his will, he
expatiated, in the most pathetic manner, on his
belief in the resurrection.

At the concluding period of life, his mind
seemed filled with the love of God ; and he im-
plored, with the utmost earnestness, the Divine
blessing for his son, the duke of Chatres. " I
have a son," said he to the minister who attended
him, " whom I am going to commend to the all-
perfect Being. I entreat God that his natural
virtues may become Christian graces ; that the
qualities which gain him esteem, may be service-
able to his salvation; that his love for the king,
and his love for me, may be the blossoms of that
immortal charity, which the holy spirits and bless-
ed angels enjoy."

Thus died this truly Christian prince, in the
forty-ninth year of his age.

SECTION II.

SOAME JENYNS.

SoAME Jenyns was born in London, in the
year 1704. He was carefully educated in his fa-
ther's house, till he went to the university of
Cambridge, where he studied very diligently for
several years. In 1741, he represented Cambridge
in parliament ; where he continued to sit, chiefly
for that place, but twice for others, till 1780. In
1755, he was appointed one of the lords of trade;
which office he held, during every change of
administration, till it was abolished in 1780.

His character appears to have been amiable
and respectable. As an author, he attained no
small degree of reputation, by fine talents, which
had every aid that useful and polite learning
could bestow. He had a critical judgment, an
elegant taste, and a rich vein of wit and humour.
His " View of the Internal Evidences of the Chris-
tian Religion," abounds with just and important
observations. It was written under a full convic-
tion of the truth of the Christian dispensation, and
from a sincere zeal for its service.

On his death-bed, it is said that, in looking
over his life, he particularly rejoiced in the be-
lief, that his " View of the Internal Evidences,"

ono

SOAME JENYKS. 263

liad been useful. He spoke of his death in such
a manner, as showed he was prepared to die. A
very honourable testimony to his talents and
merit, was inscribed in the register of Bottisham,
by William Lort Mansell, his parish minister.
*'He regrets the loss of one of the most amiable
of men, and one of the truest Christians ; — a man
who possessed the finest understanding united to
the best heart."

The following sentiments of Soame Jenyns, on
the excellence of the Spirit, and precepts of the
Gospel, appear to have been formed so much under
the influence of true religion, and contain so strong
a testimony in favour of its divine efficacy, that
ihey claim a place in this collection : —

*' Let us examine," says he, " what are the
new precepts in the Christian Religion, which
peculiarly correspond with its object, the prepa-
ring us for the kingdom of heaven. Of these, the
chief are, poorness of spirit, forgiveness of inju-
ries, and charity to all men : to these, we may
add repentance, faith, self-abasement, and a de-
tachment from the world ; all moral duties pecu-
liar to this religion, and absolutely necessary to the
attainment of its end.

*' * Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven.' By which poorness of

264 80AME JENYNS.

spirit, is to be understood, a disposition of mi id,
meek, humble, submissive to power, void of am-
bition, patient of injuries, and free from all resent-
ment. This was so new, and so opposite to the
ideas of all Pagan moralists, that they thought
this temper of mind a criminal and contempiible
meanness, which must induce men to sacrifice the
glory of their country, and their own honour, to
a shameful pusillanimity : and such it appears to
almost all who arc called Christians, even at this
day ; who not only reject it in practice, but disa-
vow it in principle, notwithstanding this expli-
cit declaration of their Master. We see them
levenging the sm.allest affronts by premeditated
murder, as individuals, on principles of honour ,'
and, in their national capacities, destroying
each other with fire and sword, for the low con
siderations of commercial interests, the balance of
rival powers, or *he ambition of princes : we
see them, with th&«'- '^st breath, animating each
other to a savage reven«i ; and, in the agonies of
death, plunging, with feeble arms, their daggers
into the hearts of their opponents : and, what is
still worse, we hear all these barbarisms celebrated
by historians ; flattered by poets ; applauded in
theatres ; approved in senates I and even sanctified
in pulpits ! But universal practice cannot alter the
nature of things, nor universal error change the
]&atiire of truth. Pride was not made for man ',
Wt humility, meekness, and resignation^ that is-.

SOAME JENYNS. 265

poorness of spirit, was made for man, and properly
belongs to his dependant and precarious situation ;
and is the only disposition of mind, which can
enable him to enjoy ease and quiet here, and hap-
piness liereafter. Yet was this important precept
cnlirely unknown, until it was promulgated by him
who said : ' Suffer httle children to come unto me.
and forbid them not ; for of such is the kingdom
nf heaven : verily I say mito you, whoever shall
not receive the kingdom of God as a little child,
he shall not enter therein/

" Another precept, equally new, and no less ex-
cellent, is, forgiveness of injuries. ' Ye have
heard,' says Christ to his disciples, ' Thou shalt
love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy : but T
say unto you, love your enemies ; bless them that
curse you ; do good to them that hate you ; and
pray for them who despitefully use you, and per-
secute you.' — This was a lesson, so new, and so
utterly unknown, till taught by his doctrines, and
enforced by his example, that the wisest moralists
of the wisest nations and ages, represented the
desire of revenge as a mark of a noble mind, and
the accomplishment of it as one of the chief felici-
ties attendant on a fortunate man. But how much
more matrnanimous, how much more beneficial to
mankind, is forgiveness ! It is more magnanimous,
because every generous and exalted disposition of
the human mind is requisite to the practice of it

266 SOAilE JENYNS.

for these alone can enable us to bear the wtong?
and insults of wickedness and folly with patience,
and to look down on the perpetrators of them,
with pity rather than indignation : these alone can
teach us, that such are but a part of those sufferings
allotted to us in this state of probation ; and to
know, that to overcome evil with good, is the most
glorious of all victories. It is the most beneficial
because this amiable conduct alone can put an end
to a continual succession of injuries and retalia*
lions ; for every retaliation becomes a new injury,
and requires another act of revenge for satisfac-
tion. But would we observe this salutary precept,
* to love our enemies, and to do good to those
who despitefully use us,' this obstinate benevo-
lence would at last conquer the most inveterate
hearts, and we should have no enemies to forgive.
How much more exalted a character, therefore, is
a Christian martyr, suffering with resignation, and
praying for the guilty, than a Pagan hero,
breathing revenge, and destroying the innocent !
Yet, noble and useful as this virtue is, before the
appearance of this religion, it was not only un-
practised, but decried in principle, as mean and
Ignominious, though so obvious a remedy for most
of the miseries of this life ; and so necessary a
qualification for the happiness of the next.

" Repentance is another new moral duty stren-
uously insisted on by this rehgion. But no

SOAML JENYNS. 267

repentance can remove our depravity, unless it be
such as entirely changes the nature and dispo-
sition of the offender ; which, in the language of
Scripture, is called ' being born again.' Mere
contrition for past crimes, and even the pardon of
them, cannot effect this, unless it operate to this -
entire conversion, or new birth, as it is properly
and emphatically named ; for sorrow can no more
purify a mind corrupted by a long continuance in
vicious habits, than it can restore health to a body
distempered by a long course of vice and intem-
perance. Hence, also, every one who is in the
least acquainted with himself, may judge of the
reasonableness of the hope that is in him, and of
his situation in a future state, by his presen;.
condition. If he feels in himself a temper proud,
turbulent, vindictive, and malevolent, and a vio-
lent attachment to the pleasures or business of
the world, he may be assured that he must be
excluded from the kingdom of heaven ; not only
because his conduct can attract no such reward ;
but because, if admitted, he would find there no
objects satisfactory to his passions, inclinations
and pursuits.

" Faith is another moral duty enjoined by this
institution, and recommended in the New Testa-
ment; where, in general, it signifies an humble,
teachable, and candid disposition, a trust in God,
and confidence in his declarations and promises ;

268 SOAME JENYjrS.

and it is always a direct contrast to pride, ol)sti
nacy, and self-conceit.

" Self-abasement is another moral duty inculcated
b)' this religion only ; which requires us to impute
even our own virtues, to the grace and favour of
our Creator ; and to acknowledge, that we can do
noliu'ng good by our own powers, unless assisted
by Ids over-rvding influence. This doctrine seems,
at first siglit, to infringe on our free-will, and to
deprive us of all merit; but, on a closer examina-
tion, the truth of it may be demonstrated both by
reason and experience : it is evident that, in fact,
it does not impair the one, or depreciate the other;
and that it is productive of so nnich luunility,
resignation, and dependance on God, that it justly
claims a place amongst the most illustrious moral
virtues.

*' Detachment from the world is another moral
virtue constituted by this religion alone ; so new
that, even at this day, few of its professors can be
persuaded that it is required, or that it is any
virtue at all. By tliis detachment from the wor'J,
is not to be understood a scclurion from society,
abstraction from all business, or retirement to a
gloomy cloister. Industry and labour, cheerfulness
and Iiospitality, are frequently recommended ; nor
is the acquisition of wealth and honours prohibited,
if they can be obtained by honest means, and a

SOAME JENYNS. 269

oiodeT^te degree of attention and care : but sucli an
unremitted anxiety, and perpetual application, as
engross our whole time and thoughts, are for-
bidden ; because they are incompatible with the
spirit of this religion, and must utterly disqualify
us for the attainment of its great end. We toil
on in the vain pursuits and frivolous occupations
of the world, die in our harness, and then expect,
if no gigantic crime stand in the way, to step im-
mediately into the kingdom of heaven : but with-
out a previous detachment from the business of
this world, we cannot be prepared for the happi-
ness of another. — Yet this could make no part of
the morality of Pagans, because their virtues were
altogether connected with this business, and con-
sisted chiefly in conducting it with honour to
themselves, and benefit to the public. Christianity
has a nobler object in view, w^hich, if not attended
to, must be lost for ever. This object is that
celestial mansion, of which we should never lose
sight, and to which we should be ever advancing,
during our journey through life : but this by no
means precludes us from performing the business,
or enjoying the amusements, of travellers, pro-
vifled tliey detain us not too long, nor lead us out
^f our way.

" Another precept, first noticed and first enjoined
by this institution, is, charity to all men. What
this is, we may best learn from the admirable de-

23*

270 80AME JENYNS.

scription, contained in the following words !
* Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity
cnvieth not; charity vaunteth not itself; is not
puffed up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ;
seeketh not her own ; is not easily provoked *
thinkelh no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but
rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things ; believeth
all things ; hopeth all things ; endureth all things.'
Here we have an accurate delineation of this
bright constellation of all virtues ; which consists
not, as many imagine, in the building of monas-
teries, endowment of hospitals, or the distribution
of alms ; but in such an amiable disposition of
mind, as exercises itself every hour in acts of
kindness, patience, complacence, and benevo-
lence to all around us ; and which alone is able
to promote happiness in the present life, or ren
der us capable of receiving it in another. — And
yet this is totally new, and so it is declared to be,
by the Author of it : * A new commandment I
give unto you, that ye love one another ; as I
have loved you, that ye love one another ; by this
shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye
have love one to another.' This benevolent dis-
position is made the great characterietic of a
Christian, the test of his obedience, and the mark
by which he is to be distinguished.

" This love for each other, is that charity just
now described, and contains all those qualities

SOAME JENYNS. 271

which are there attributed to it ; humility,
patience, meekness, and beneficence : without
which we must Hve in perpetual discord, and
consequently cannot pay obedience to this com-
mandment of loving one another : a command-
ment so sublime, so rational, and so beneficial,
so wisely calculated to correct the depravity,
diminish the wickedness, and abate the miseries
of human nature, that, did we universally comply
with it, we should soon be relieved from all the
inquietudes arising from our own unruly passions,
anger, envy, revenge, malice, and ambition ; as
well as from all those injuries, to which we are
perpetually exposed, from the indulgence of the
same passions in others. It would also preserve
our minds in such a state of tranquillity, and so
prepare them for the kingdom of heaven, that
we should slide out of a life of peace, love, and
benevolence, into that celestial society, by an
almost imperceptible transition."

SECTION III.
LORD LYTTELTON.

George Lyttelton, the son of Sir Tliomas
Lytlelton, of Hagley, in Worcestershire, was born
in 1709. He was educated at Eton, and was
so much distinguished there, that his exercises
were recommended as models to liis school-
fellows. At the university of Oxford, where
his education was completed, he pursued his
classical studies with uncommon avidity and
success ; and retained the same reputation of
superiority.

As a writer, both in prose and verse. Lord
Lyttelton attained considerable eminence ; and,
by his great abilities and integrity, became highly
useful to his country.

In the pride of juvenile confidence, with the
help of corrupt conversation, he had entertained
doubts of the truth of Christianity ; but, about
the 38th year of his age, he thought the time
come when it was no longer fit to doubt or believe
by chance, and applied himself seriously to the
great question. His studies, being honest, ended"
in conviction. He found that religion was true,
and what he had learned he endeavoured to teach,
by " Observations on the Conversion of St. Paul ;"

272

LORD LYTTELTON. 273

a treatise to which infidehty has never been able to
fabricate a specious answer. This book, his father
had the happiness of seeing, and expressed his pleas-
ure, in a letter which deserves to be inserted : —

"I have read your religious treatise with in
finite pleasure and satisfaction. The style is fine
and clear, the arguments close, cogent, and irre-
sistible. May the King of kings, whose glorious
cause you have so well defended, reward your
pious labours ; and grant that I may be found
worthy, through the merits of Jesus Christ, to be
an eyewitness of that happiness, which I do not
doubt he will bountifully bestow upon you ! In
the meantime, I shall never cease glorifying God,
for having endowed you with such useful talents,
and given me so good a son.

" Your affectionate father,

" Thomas Lyttelton."

After a life spent in honourable pursuits, this
distinguished person was seized with a severe
illness, about the 64th year of his age, which
soon proved mortal. Of his death, a very affect-
ing and instructive account has been given by
his physician.

" On Sunday evening, the symptoms of his
lordship's disorder, which for a week past had
alarmed us, put on a fatal appearance ; and his

274 LORD LYTTELTON.

lordship believed himself to be a dying man.
From this time he suffered by restlessness, rather
than pain. Though his nerves were apparently
much fluttered, his mental faculties never seemed

stronger, when he was thoroughly awake.

" Though his lordship wished his approaching
dissolution not to be lingering, he waited for it
with resignation. He said, ' It is a folly, a keep-
ing me in misery, now to attempt to prolong life :'
yet he was easily persuaded, for the satisfaction
of others, to do or take any thing thought proper
for him. On Saturday, he had been remarkably
better, and we were not without some hopes of
his recovery.

"On Sunday, about eleven in the forenoon,
his lordship sent for me : he said he felt a great
hurry of spirits, and wished to have a little con-
versation with me, in order to divert it. He then
proceeded to open the fountain of that heart,
from whence goodness had so long flowed, as
from a copious spring. ' When I first set out m
the world,' said he, ' I had friends who endeav-
oured to shake my belief in the Christian reli-
gion. I saw difficulties which staggered me ; but
I kept my mind open to conviction. The evi-
dences and doctrines of Christianity, studied with
attention, made me a most firm and persuaded
believer of the Christian religion. I have made it

LORD LYTTELTOIN' 275

the rule of my life, and it is the ground of my
future hopes. I have erred and sinned ; but have
repented, and never indulged any vicious habit.
In politics, and public life, I have made public
good the rule of my conduct. I never gave coun-
sels which I did not at the time think best. I
have seen that I was sometimes in the wrong, but
I did not err designedly. I have endeavoured, in
private life, to do all the good in my power ; and
never for a moment could indulge malicious or un-
just designs upon any person whatsoever.'

" At another time he said : * I must leave my sou)
in the same state it was in before my illness ; I
find this a very inconvenient time for solicitude
about any thing.'

" On the evening, when the symptoms of death
came on, he said : * I shall die ; but it will not be
your fault.' When Lord and Lady Valentia came
to see his lordship, he gave them his solemn bene-
diction, and said : ' Be good, be virtuous, my lord ;
you must come to this.' Thus he continued giv-
ing his dying benediction to all around him. On
Monday morning, a lucid interval gave some small
hopes, but these vanished in the evening ; and he
continued dying, though with very little imcasiness,
till Tuesday morning, August 22, (1773,) when,
between seven and eight o'clock, he expired almost
without a groan."

SECTION IV.

JONAS HANWAY.

A PERSON SO disinterested in private life, and so
religiously concerned for the happiness of others
as was the distinguished Jonas Hanway, demands
a place in these memoirs. This excellent man
devoted his time, his fortune, his powers of bod}^
and mind, to the service of his fellow-creatures.
To*improve the morals of the poor, to alleviate
their distresses, and to provide for their offspring
suitable instruction and useful employment, were
objects he had much at heart ; and a great part of his
life was spent in promoting these benevolent views.
It may justly be said of him, that, next to his reve-
rence for the Divine Being, the love of human kind
was the strongest feeling of his breast ; and that,
when he had engaged in any office of general be-
nevolence, no obstacles, but those which were insu-
perable, could discourage his active perseverance.

As he well knew how much the happiness of
the poorer classes of mankind depends on frugal-
ity and habitual industry, he studied to promote
amongst them virtues so necessary to their con-
dition. It gave him a very sensible pleasure,
when any of the numerous objects of his charity,
who came to pay him their respects, were cleanly
and neatly dressed, and appeared with cheerful

276

JONAS HANWAY. 1277

s,Tid contented conntenanccs. He treated tliem
with respect and attention; entered into their con-
cerns with paternal affection ; and let them know
thai., on any real emergency, they might with coih-
fidencc apply to him. It was this, rather than the
largeness of his gifts, that endeared him so much
to the people. He never walked ont, but he was
followed by the good wishes, silent or expressed,
of some to whom he had afforded relief. To meet
the grateud eyes of persons whom he had served,
was to him a high enjoyment; and no one partobk
of it oftener.

This benevolent and pious man, through tltd
wdiole covn-sc of his life, remembered that he was
an accountable being. He examined his ow'n con-
duct, with the same degree of severity which men
too often adopt in their scrutiny into the conduct
of others ; and considered that ihe time would
come, and might not be far off, when he should
reflect with sorrow on every bad action. There
are many well-disposed men, who, knowing that
death is inevitable, endeavour to banish from their
minds the awful thought; but Han way seemed to
derive a solemn pleasure from indulging the idea.
To excite the frequent recollection of his condi-
tion and end, he caused to be inscribed on a plate
of brass the followinir lines, which seemed to have
been designed as his epitaph, and which he often

seriously reviewed : —

278 JONAS HANWAY^

"T believe that my Redeemer liveth,
And that I shall also rise from
The grave,
Jonas Hanway ;
Who, trusting in that good Providence
Which so visibly governs the world,
Passed through a variety of fortunes with;
Patience > -

Living the greater part of his days

In foreign lands, ruled by arbitrary power,.

He received the deeper impression

Of the happy constitution of his own country 5

Whilst

The persuasive laws contained in the

New Testament,

And the consciousness of his own depravity^

Softened his heart to a sense

Of the various wants of hi&

Fellow-creatures.

Reader,
Inquire no further:

The Lord have mercy on his soul and thme i

Apprehensive of the too partial regard of his friends^
and esteeming plain trulli above the proudest trophies oi
monumental lialtery ; at the age of fifty-one, he caused
«bis plate and inscription to be made-"

JONAS HANWAY. 279

In the summer of 1786, his health sensibly de-
clined ; and he perceived that he was verging to-
wards that state, which he had often contemplated
with solemn complacence. During the progress
of a tedious, and sometimes very painful illness,
he never expressed the least impatience. When
he grew so weak as to be confined to his bed, he
requested his physicians to speak frankly, and
without reserve, of his disorder : and when he was
convinced that he could not recover, he sent and
paid all his tradesmen ; he took leave of his most
intimate friends ; dictated some letters to absent
acquaintances ; and discoursed concerning his af-
fairs with tranquillity, and even with cheerfulness.
To his surgeon, who attended him with unceasing
anxiety, he said : " If you think it will be of ser-
vice in your practice, or to any one who may come
after mc, I beg you will have my body opened : I
am willing to do as much good as possible."

' He exnressed his satisfaction, that his mind had
never wandered or been perplexed, in any part of
his illness. In the morning previous to his death,
he said to an intimate friend : " I have no uncom-
fortable reflections concernmg my approaching
^\\^ ; but I find life so strong, that I think I shall
not leave the world without a sharp conflict." —
Soon after this, the disorder increased, and put a
period to a long and valuable life, spent in prcmo-
ting the glory of God, and the good of mankind.

280 JONAS HANWAY.

The following stanzas are worthy of a place m
lh'=' character of this truly pious and benevolent
iran:-'-

And thou, blest Hanway ! long thy country's prayer,
Exulting now in kindred worlds above,

Coheir of Howard ! deign the muse to hear.
Though angels greet thee with a brother's love.

Far though removed from this diminish'd earth,

A crown of glory beaming on thy brow,
The God who fixed it there — to note thy worth,
Bids the rapt lyre with all thy spirit glow.

Warm in the way, behold what myriads come,
While tears of ecstasy and anguish flow !

Their blended incense pouring on thy tomb,
To mark an empire's joy, an empire's wo.

Close to thy Howard — O congenial shade!

On the pure column shall thy bust have places
Though deep in every bosom is portrayed,

Those grateful records time shall ne'er erase.

The generous plan that public virtue draws,

The fair design that charity imparts,
The genius kindling in Religion's cause,

Cherish their champion in our faithful hearts.

JONAS HANWAY. 281

Near Hanway's bust the Magdalen shall kneel,
A chasten'd votary of Compassion's dome j*

With pious awe the holiest ardours feel,
And bless the founder of her peaceful home :

And O. Philanthropy! thy heav'n-rear'd fanet
Shall oft avow the good man's zeal divine,

When bounty leads a poor and orphan train

To clavp their little arms round Hanway's shrme

Transcendent energies of grace sublime,

Whose magic goodness work'd with double powr,

Cradled the outcast babe "who knew no crime,
And bade the sinner turn, and blush no more.

Ah, full of honom's as of years, farewell!

Thus o'er thy ashes shall Britannia sigh ;
Each age, each sex, thy excellence shall tell,

Which taught the young to live, the old to die!

* The Magdalen House,
t The Foundling Hospital.
24*

SECTION V.

ANTHONY BENEZET.

Anthony Benezet was born in France, in the
year 1713. Tne perseciUion, on account of reli-
gious opinions, which then existed in that country,
induced his parents to leave France. After a resi
dence of many years in London, they and their
son, the subject of this memoir, went to America,
and settled in Philadelphia.

He was a man of sound understandmg, ot great
piety, humility, and self-denial, and of a very be
nevolent disposition. Being desirous of spending
his life in a manner the most useful to his fellow-
creatures, he devoted himself to the education of
youth. In this arduous, but truly honourable
employment, he passed about forty years ; and
acquitted himself very much to the satisfaction
of parents and children. His great object was, to
imbue the minds of his pupils with reverence for
religion, and to train them up in a course of vir-
tue. Pecuniary advantages were of small mo-
ment in his estimation, of which he gave many
striking proofs. A short time before his decease,
he declared, in a letter to a friend, that though
leisure and retirement would be very agreeable to
him, he was well satisfied to remain in his occu
pation; and that he knew no other, whatever

282

ANTHONY BENE2ET. 283

might be its advantages, for which he would ex-
change his employnnent, unless it were a commis-
sion to preach and propagate, as a minister, the
Gospel of Christ.

When the school established in Philadelpliia,
*' for the inslruclion of black people and their
offspring," was suspended, on account of the in-
disposition of their teacher, he voluntarily surren-
dered his own school to other competent persons,
and undertook the education of those people,
though, in a pecuniary respect, he lost con-
siderably by the change. His humility, and his
sympathy with that unhappy race of men, dis-
posed him to think no condescensions degradingj
by which he could be peculiarly useful to them :
and he was greatly desirous, that they might be
so improved in their minds, as to render the free-
dom which they had lately recovered, a real bles- '
sing to themselves, and a benefit to the state.

He was a friend to the poor and distressed
of every description, and laboured most earnestly
for their relief and welfare. It may indeed be
said of him, that his whole life was spent in going
about doing good to men. He appeared to do
every thing, as if the words of his Saviour were
continually sounding in his ears * " Wist ye not
ihat I must be about my Father's business V He
was, as J^T. Rush observed, a man of a truly

284 ANTHONY BENEZET.

catholic spirit ^ one -who loved piety and A'irtne m
others, wherever he tbund ihem ; and who re-
spected all sincere worshippers of God, in what-
ever manner that worship was performed.

Tlie miseries of the enslaved Africans, and the
great injustice done to them, very deeply affected
his compassionate heart. He published many
tracts on the subject ; supported an extensive cor-
respondence with persons m Europe and America^
who were likely to aid his benevolent views ; and
exerted himself to tlie utmost, to ameliorate the
cohdi't-ion of the negroes, and to procure the en-
tire abolition of the trade. As he was one of the
earliest r.dvocates of these injured men, and inde-
fatigably pursued his objoct, we may fairly at-
iTibute to his labours, with the Divine blessing
upon them, a great part of that spirit of inquiry
into their situation, and sympathy with their dis-
tresses, which have spread over the world ; and
which, we trust, will, ere long, destroy this system
©f inhumanity and injustice.

About a year before his decease, his health be-
came much impaired ; but being of a lively dispo-
sition, very temperate, and zealously concerned to
occupy his talents to the las^t, he supported his
school, till he was quite disabled from performing
the duties of it. But his charity and beneficence
continued with life. The last time he walked across

ANTHONY BENEZET. 285

his room, was to take from his desk six dollars,
which he gave to a poor widow whom he had
long assisted to maintain. Three hours before
his death, he delivered to his executors a num-
ber of tracts, in sheets, on religious subjects,
with directions for their being bound and dis-
persed. He devised nearly the whole of his
estate, after the decease of his wife, to trustees,
for the support and benefit of the Negro school,
of which he had been the tutor. And thus,
having lived a most useful and exemplary life,
he was well prepared for the approach of death.
He endured his pains with much patience ; and,
with Cliristian composure of mind, resigned this
mortal life, in the firm expectation of a happy
immortality.

The loss of this beneficent man was deeply felt
by his fellow- citizens ; and his funeral was attended
by 1 great number of persons of all ranks, and of
all religious professions ; and many hundreds of
Negroes joined the procession. It may justly be
said, that " the mourners went about the streets,"
and that his death was embalmed with tears. An
officer, who had served in the American army
during the late war, in returning from the funeral,
pronounced a striking eulogium upon him. It
contained but a few words : " I would rather," said
he, "be Anthony Benezet, in that coffin, than
George Washington with all his fame."

SECTION VI.

JAMES HERVEY.

James Hervey, an ingenious and pious clergy-
man, and a very popular writer, was born at
Hard ings tone, in Northamptonshire, in the year
1714. He had his education at the free grammar
school at Northampton ; and at Lincoln college,
in Oxford. After a residence of seven years, he
left the University ; and became, in 1736, curate
to his father, then possessed of the living of
Wcston-Favell. He was an excellent scholar,
being master of the three learned languages, and
well read in the classics.

In 1750, at his father's death, he succeeded lo
the livings of Weston and Collingtree ; which
being within five miles of each other, he attended
alternately with his curate, till the ill state of his
health confined him to Weston. Here he after-
wards constantly resided, and diligently pursued
his labours, both in his ministerial office, and in
his study, as long as possible, under the disad-
vantage of a weak constitution. He did not
satisfy himself with preaching only on the Lord's
day ; but, whilst his strength permitted him, held
a regular lecture in the middle of the week,

28G

JAM£S HERVEV, 287

which was very well attended. He aisc diligently
catechised the children of his parishioners, and
was regular m his pastoral visits at their houses,
till he was confined to his own, when he encour-
aged til em to come to him, for his friendly and reli-
gious advice. By these exertions, as well as the
labours of his study, he fell into a decline, attended
with an almost incessant hectic cough, and much
acute pain, which he supported with most exem-
plary patience.

In 1 746, he published his " Meditations among the
Tombs," and " Reflections on a Flower Garden ;"
and the following year appeared the " Contempla-
tions on the Night and Starry Heavens ;" and "A
Winter Piece." The sublime sentiments in these
pieces, are conveyed in a flowing and elegant style.
They have been much read ; and are eminently
calculated to cherish pious and grateful emotions
towards the God of nature, and the Source of
every blessing. In 1775, he published his *' The-
ron and Aspasio, or a Series of Letters and Dia-
logues on the most Important Subjects." He was
the author of several other works, which bear the
marks of genius, and of a truly benevolent and
religious mind.

His moral character was highly exemplary*
his temper placid, disinterested, unaflectedly
humble ; and in his transactions with others, he

1283 JAMES heutey.

was ever clieerful, punctual, just, arc! candid to
persons of every denominalion. He sonvctimes
met with very cross occurrences ; but lie ever rose
above them : he was never known to be in a pas-
sion. His humility rendered Iiim invulnerable.
When he was misrepresented and calumiiiatcdy
he used to sa}^ : " Our enemies are sometimes our
best friends, and tell us useful truths ; and the.i
we should amend our faults, and be thankful for
such infomiation. If what they say be not true,
and spoken from malice only, then such pci-sons
are to be considered as diseased in tljcir minds,
and -ought to be prayed for. They are to be pitied ;
and I might as justly be angry with men who are
diseased in their bodies." All this he spoke with
humility, seriousness, and gi-eat sweetness of spir-
it : for it was the language of his heart, and not
»f affectation.

In actions of benevolence and charity, thouo-h
he had some equals, it is certain that he had no
superiors, as far as his means extended. He pre-
ferred clothing the poor, and supplying them
with necessaiy articles, on the best terms, to
giving them money. " I am," said he " God'?
steward for the poor; and I must husband the
little pittance I have to bestow upon them, and
make it go as far as possible." But, on special
occasions, when money would be particularly
nseful,, he would give to a prudent housekeeper.

JAMES HERVEY. 289

distressed by sickness or misfortunes, five or more
guineas at a time ; and he was, on all proper occa-
sions, careful that it should not be known from
whom the money came.

By his last will, he bequeathed the future prof-
its of all his works, to benevolent uses ; except-
ing his " Meditations," the copy of which he sold
during his lifetime, and applied the sums arising
from its sale and former impressions, amounting
to about seven hundred pouT^ds, to the relief of
the poor and distressed. He s?.id tliat this money
Vv'as devoted to God ; and that he would, on no
account, apply it to worldly uses ; that he wrote,
not for profit or fame, but to serve the cause of
religion : and as Providence had blessed his at-
tempts, he thought himself bound to relieve the
distresses of his fellow-creatures, with the product
of his labours.

The cultivation of real religion and holiness,
m heart and life, which this good man strenu-
ously recommended, induced some persons to
charge him with holding tenets injurious to so-
ciety, and calculated to make men melanchoh?-,
and regardless of the lawful concerns of this
world. But every charge of this nature, is abun-
dantly refuted by his writings, and the whole
tenour of his life ; and particularly by an ex-
cellent and striking passage, in his " Contera

290 JAMES HERVEY.

plations on the Starry Heavens ;" from which the
following lines are extracted : —

*' Some, I believe, are apt to imagine, that
ihey must abandon all the satisfactions of this
world, if they become zealous candidates for
the felicity of another. — But this is a very mis-
taken notion. Religion was never intended to
strike off the wheels of business, or to cut asunder
the sinews of industry ; but rather, to make men
industrious from a principle of conscience, not
from the instigations of avarice ; that so they
may promote their immortal happiness, even
while they provide for their temporal maintenance.
It has no design to extirpate our passions, but
only to restrain their irregularities : neither would
it extinguish the delights of sense, but prevent
them from evaporating into vanity, and subsid-
ing into gall. A person may be cheerful among
liis friends, and yet joyful in God. He may taste
the sweets of this earthly estate ; and, at the same
time, cherish his hopes of a nobler inheritance in
heaven."

Though this sincere Christian was ardent and
laborious, in serving his Great Master, and in
promoting the religious welfare of his fellow-
creatures ; yet he had a very humble sense of his
own services ; and expressed to his friends, during
his indispoiltion, great regret that he had not

JAMES HERVEY. 291

embraced every opportunity aflbrded him, to
advance the cause of his Redeemer. These
expressions were made with much tenderness of
spirit, and were accompanied with tears. But
lest his sentiments and views? should be misinter-
preted, he added : " Do not think, that I am afraid
to die. I assure you, I am not. I know what
my Saviour hath done for mc, and I long to be
dismissed. But I wonder at the love of Christ,
in doing so much for me ; and lament to think how
little I have done for him."

On a particular occasion, when his physician
was taking his leave, he obserA'ed to him, with
great affection and sensibility, that as he had,
not long before, a dangerous fall from his horse,
by which he was much bruised ; and as he had
been lately ill, and then looked very pale ; he
hoped he would reflect on those narrow escapes,
so often fatal to others, as a kind of warning from
God to him, and remember them as such ; adding :
" How careful ought we to be, to improve those
years which remain, at a time of life when but
few can remain for us !"

The last illness of this truly excellent man com-
menced in the autumn of the year 1758; and, in
a few months, made a great and affecting prog-
ress. His strength became exhausted, his body
extremel}'' emaciated, and his whole frame so

292 JAMES HERVEY.

sore, that he could scarcely bear to be touched,
when it was necessary to move him. Yet, under
all lliis calamity, he was ever praising God for
liis mercies, and for enduing him with patience. —
About three hours before liis death, he strongly
and affectionately urged a friend of his who was
present, to pay all due attention lo the c:ire of
his everlasling concerns, as here there is no
abiding place, no continuing city. He entreated
liim not to be overcharcred with the cares of this
life ; but to attend, amidst the multiplicity of
his business, to t!ie ■' one thing needful." The
physician observing the great difficulty and pain
with wnich he spake, (for he was almost suffocated
with phlegm and frequent vomitings,) and per-
ceiving by })is pulse, that the pangs of death
were coming on, desired that he would spare
liimself. " No," said he, " doctor, no. You tell
me I have but a few moments to live : Oh ! let
me spend them in adoring our great Redeemer.'*
He then repeated the 26th verse of the 73d psalm :
" Though my flesh and my heart fail me, yet God
is the strength of my heart, and my portion for
ever :" and he expatiated in a most striking man-
ner, on these words of the Apostle: "All things
arc yours, life and death ; for ye are Christ's."
" Here " said he, "is the treasure of a Christian.
Death is reckoned in this inventory ; and a noble
treasure it is. How thankful am I for death, as
it is the passage through which I go to the Lord

JAMES HERVET. 293

and Giver of eternal life ; and as it frees me from
all the miyery you now see me endure, and which
I am willing to endure, as long as God thinks
fit : for I know he will, by-and-by, in his own
good time, dismiss me from the body. These
light afflictions are but for a moment, and then
com.es an eternal weight of glory. O ! welcome,
welcome death ! Thou mayest well be reckoned
among the treasures of the Christian. To live- is
Christ, but to die is gain."

After these expressions, as the doctor was
taking his final leave of him, the dying saint ex-
pressed great gratitude for his visits and atten-
tions, though it had been long out of the power
of medicines to cure him. He then paused a
little ; and being raised in his chair, he, with
great screniiy and sweetness of countenance,
though the pangs of dealh were upon him, re-
peated these words : " Lord, now lettest thou thy
servant depart in peace, according to thy most
holy and comfortable word, for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation.'*

In about an hour after he had uttered these ex-
pressions, he yielded up his pious soul to God,
without a sigh or struggle, in the forly-fiflh year
of his age.

SECTION VII.
ALTAMONT;

OR, THE DEATH OF THE LIBERTINE.

The following account of an affecting mournful
exit, and the reflections that accompany it, are
solemn and impressive. We shall present them
to the reader, in the words of Doctor Young, who
was present at the melancholy scene : —

" Is not the death-bed of a profligate a prime
school of wisdom ? Are we not obliged, when we
ere invited to it ? for what else should reclaim
us ? The pulpit ? We are prejudiced against itv
Besides, an agonizing profligate, though silent,
outpreaches the most celebrated the pulpit ever
Knew. But, if he speaks, his words might instruct
the best instructers of mankind. Mixed in the
warm converse of life, we think with men ; on a
. death-bed, with God.

" There are two lessons of this school written, as
it were, in capitals, which they who run may read.
First, he that, in this his minority, this field of
discipline and conflict, instead of grasping the
weapons of his warfare, is for ever gathering
flowers, and catching at butterflies, with his un-
armed hand, ever making idle pleasure his pur-
suit; must pay for it his vast reversion: and on

294

ALTAMONT. 295

opening his final account, (of which a death-bed
breaks the seal,) shall find himself a beggar, a
beggar past beggary ; and shall passionately wish
that his very being were added to the rest of his
loss. Secondly, he shall find, that truth, divine
truth, however, through life, injured, wounded,
suppressed, is victorious, immortal : that, though
with mountains overwhelmed, it will, one day,
burst out like the fires of Etna ; visible, bright,
md tormenting, as the most raging flame. This
low (oh, my friend !) I shall too plainly prove.

" The sad evening before the death of the
i^oble youth, whose last hours suggested these
thoughts, I was with him. No one was present
I ut his physician, and an intimate whom he loved,
and whom he had ruined. At my coming in, he
said : ' You and the physician are come too late.
I have neither life nor hope. You both aim at
miracles. You would raise the dead !' Heaven,
I said, was merciful — ' Or,' exclaimed he, ' I could
not have been thus guilty. What has it not done
to bless, and to save me ! — I have been too strong
for Omnipotence ! I have plucked down ruin.' —
I srid, the blessed Redeemer, — ' Hold ! - hold !
you wound me ! — That is the rock on which I
split ; — I denied his name !'

" Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take
any thing from the physician, he lay silent, as far

296 ALTAMONT.

as sudden darts of pain would permit, till tlie
clock struck : then with vehemence he exclaimed ;
* Oh ! time! time! it is fit thou sliouldst ihus
strike thy murderer to the heart ! How art thou
fled for ever ! — A month ! — Oh, for a single week '
I ask not for years ; though an age were too little
for the much I have to do.' On my saying, we
could not do too much : that heaven was a blessed
place — ' So much the worse. — 'Tis lost ! 'tis lost ! —
Heaven is to me the severest place of hell !'

" Soon after, I proposed prayer : — * Pray you
that can. I never prayed. I cannot pray — nor
need I. Is not heaven on my side already? It
closes with my conscience. Its severest strokes
but second my own.' Observing that his friend
was much touched at this, even to tears — (who
could forbear ? I could not — ) with a most affec-
tionate look, he said, ' Keep those tears for thy-
self. I have undone thee, — Dost thou weep for
me ? that is cruel. What can pain me more V

" Here his friend, too much affected, would tiave
left him. — * No, stay — thou still maysl liope ;
therefore hear me. How madly have I talked !
How madly hast thou listened, and believed ! but
look on my present state, as a full answer to thee,
and to myself. This body is all weakness and
pain ; but my soul, as if stung up by torment to
greater strength and spirit, is full powerful to

ALTAMONT. 297

reason; full mighty to suffer. And that which
ihus Iriuiiiphs within the jaws of immortality, is,
douhtless, immortal — And, as for a Deily, nothing
less than an Almighty could inflict what I feel.

" I was about to congratulate this passive mvol-
untary confessor, on his asserting the two prime
articles of his creed, extorted by the rack of nature,
when he thus very passionately exclaimed : ' No,
no ! let me speak on. I have not long to speak,
— My much injured friend ! my soul, as my body,
lies in ruins ; in scattered fragments of broken
thought — Remorse for the past, throws my th ught
on the future. Worse dread of the future, strikes
it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find
no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain that is
on me, thou wouldst struggle with the martyr for
his stake ; and bless Heaven for the flames ; that
is not an everlasting flame ; that is not an un-
quenchable fire.'

" How were we struck ! yet, soon after, still
more. With what an eye of distraction, what a face
of despair, he cried out : ' My principles have
poisoned my friend ! my extravagance has beg-
gared my boy ! my unkindness has murdered my
wife ! — And is there another hell ? Oh ! thou
blasphemed, yet indulgent Lord God ! hell
itself is a refuge, if it hide me from thy frown !'
Soon after, his understanding failed. His terrified

29S altamokt.

imagination uttered horrors not to be repeated, or
ever forgotten. And ere the sun (which, I hope,
has seen few Hke him) arose, the gay, young,
noble, ingenious, accompHshed, and most wretclied
Altamont expired !

" If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man of
pain ? How quick, how total, is the transit of such
persons ! In what a dismal gloom they set for ever !
How short, alas ! the day of their rejoicing ! — For
a moment they glitter — they dazzle ! In a mom.ent
where are they ? Oblivion covers their memories.
Ah ! would it did ! Infamy snatches them from
oblivion. In the long-living annals of infamy
their triumphs are recorded. Thy sufferings, poor
Altamont! still bleed in the bosom of the heart-
stricken friend — for Altamont had a friend. He
might have had many. His transient morning
might have been the dawn of an immortal day.
His name might have been gloriously enrolled in
the records of eternity. His memory might have
left a sweet fragrance behind it, grateful to the
surviving friend, salutary to the succeeding gene-
ration. With what capacity was he endowed !
with what advantages for being greatly good '
But with the talents of an angel, a man may be a
fool. If he judges amiss in the supreme point,
judging right in all else, but aggravates his folly :
as it shows him WTong, though blessed with the
best capacity of being right."

CHAPTER X.

Baron Haller John Howard Newton's Letters-

Margaret M. Althens Zimmerman James Hay

Beattie Elizabeth Smith Elizabeth Carter

Sir William Jones Conclusion.

SECTION I.

BARON HALLER.

Albert Haller, one of the most illustrious
literary characters of his age, was the son of a
citizen and advocate of Berne, where he was born,
m the year 1708. The accounts of his early dis-
play of talents, are as extraordinary as almost any
upon record. He chose the medical profession, in
which he became very eminent. He was an anat-
omist, a physiologist, and a botanist, of the first
order. It is not too much to say of him, that he
was one of the best informed men in Europe. He
wrote and spoke, with equal facility, the German,
French, and Latin languages ; and read all the
other tongues of civilized Europe, except the
Sclavonic dialects. His acquaintance with books
was so extensive, that it would be difficult to point
but. any of the least note, which he had not perused,

299

300 BARON HALLER.

and of which the contents did not dwell upon his
memory. He was a poet, too, of distinguished
merit. The critics of Germany reckon Haller
among the first who gave sublimity, richness, and
harmony, to their poetical language ; and who
described nature in its true colours.

The talents and knowledge of Haller, his
works in various departments of science and litera-
ture, and his unblemished integrity and virtue,
rendered him, in the highest degree, respectable
among the learned of Europe ; and his friend-
ship and correspondence were courted by the
most celebrated men of his time. He was pro-
fessor of medicine in the university of Gottingen.
He filled successively the botanical, ch^nnical,
and anatomical chairs ; and raised the reputation
of the university to a very high pitch. There he
resided near seventeen years ; and then returned
to Berne, his native place, where he was elected
a member of the sovereign council ; and enjoyed
the first authority in the administration of public
affairs, till the time of his death, wdiich took place
in the year 1777.

This great and good man, in the early part of
his life, had doubts concerning the objects of the
Christian faith. But these doubts were dispelled,
by a successful application to every branch of
science, on the one hand ; and by a candid exam-

Saeon haller. 801.

I'nntion of the sacred oracles, on the otlicr. The
firsl, by piJfgiiig his soul, according to his own
omphalic piirasc, of arrogance and pride, filled il
vnVh true poverly of spirit. The second con-
vhiced him that the divine revelation, conveyed
J. I the Holy Scriptures, is a boon worthy of the
merciful Author of our nature to give ; and such
as is fit for guilty mortals to receive, witii humble
gratitude and reverence.

There are hours of mental depression in humait
life, which can neither be prevented nor remedied,
by the most prosperous worldly circumstances, or
" by the greatest skill of man. The healing art,
• which Haller applied with singular success to the
' diseases of the body, could not, as he experienced
in his own case, reach that dissatisfaction with the
present, and that apprehension of a future state,
which so frequently disturb the breasts of rnan
kind. But he found other aids, which proved a
Soverci^Tu remedy to all his fears and depressions
The divine laws were to him a delightful subject
of attention, and a joyful object of hope. His con
fidence in the goodness of God, refreshed his mind :
and so fortified it, that he contemplated, without
dismay, the king of terrors.

The consolations which he felt himself, he was
anxious to impart to others. In imitation of the
Saviour of the world, he went about doing good

302 BARON HALLEK,

to llic souls and the bodies of men. He eagerly
seized the nunfiberless opportunities, which his
profession as a physician gave him, of convincing
those with whom he conversed, of the truth, and
of converting them to the practice, of the Chris-
tian rehgion. And this he did, not only by his
instructions, but by his example. For he was
charitable to the poor ; he sympathized in the
tenderest manner with the distressed ; and was
humane and just in all his dealings with the sons
of men.

A thousand incidents, which passed unheeded
by the vulgar eye, recalled to his mind the Deity.
And when he recollected or heard that great
name, he gave way, in whatever company or cir-
cumstances he happened to be placed, to some
pious ejaculations, with his eyes and hands lifted
iip towards heaven.

While his feeling mind embraced in the bonds
of love all his fellow-creatures, and interested him
in their present and future concerns, there was
one person, whom God and nature had recom-
mended to liis peculiar tenderness and care. He
had a daughter, dear to him as his own soul. He
. knew the inquietudes, to which the common lot
of humanity would subject her through life ; and
the fears that would alaiTn her lender breast at the_
approach of death, of which it was some consola-

BARON HALLER. 803

tion to Ilim, tliat " he should not h've to be the
moiirnfiil Avilness." To her he addressed, at ihf-
ferent limes, but in a regular succession, a num-
ber of letters, on the truths of the Christian Reli-
gion. They were afterwards, by his permission,
published for the benefit of the world at large.
The work possesses great merit ; and is particu-
larly proper for the perusal and study of young
persons.

We shall conclude our account of Baron Haller,
with an extract from the last letter contained in
the publication just mentioned. It marks the
writer's high sense of the importance of religion ;
his solicitude for his daughter's happiness ; and
his strong confidence in the future rewards of
piety and virtue : —

" Let us employ the time that is present : eter
nity will be our reward, if we make a good use of
it Let us always have before our eyes, the na
ture and consequences of sin : let us remember
that it will deprive us of the favour of God, and
expose us to his displeasure. Reflect on the value
of that life and immortality, which Christ has
brought to light by the gospel. The enjoyments
of this present short life, which are indeed bul
puerile amusements, must disappear, when placed
in competition with the greatness and durability
of the glory which is to come

804 BARON HAlLER,

" By the mercy of God, we are restored from the
lowest stale of abasement and dejection. We ure
animated with the most comfortable promises.
We now walk with confidence in that road, wiiich
has been marked out for us with so much wisdom :
and which so well corresponds with our new de-
sires and abilities. We leave behind us those
vices which tended to estrange us from God and
happiness : before us is a benevolent Being, who
offers to the victorious, incorruptible crowns, as
the recompense of victory ; which victory he also
helps us to gain. We may now rest satisfied with
respect to our future condition, without per-
plexing ourselves about the trials we shall have
to undergo, and which are yet at a distance
Let us be careful to employ to advantage the pres-
ent hour. The means of salvation, the sacred
writings, the precepts of our Saviour, are in our
hands. We insensibly draw near to the desired
harbour; the approaches of dissolution become
less formidable, the nearer we advance to the
happy mansions of eternity, where eiror and vice
will be disaimed, and have no more powei
over us.

" Receive, my daughter, these most important of
all truths, from a father, who considers himself or
the verge of life : they are the most precious
marks of tenderness which he can give you.
These instructions would have been less imperfect,

BARON HALLER, 305

if his capacity had been more extensive. They
are, however, the result of his reflections, and of
the researches which he has made after truth :
they are also the effect of his internal conviction.
Your father who now addresses you, has had his
doubts ; he has sometimes been mistaken ; and
has wished, in those moments, that the conse-
quences of sin were not so grievous. He has not
been exempt from falling : but the victorious
■grace of God has kindly come to his relief. —
The king of terrors approaches me with hasty
steps : but I behold his advances without dismay
Beyond that era of my existence, I see objects
of joy and hope, which invite me to leave this
world, and to step forward into eternity ; into
mansions of holiness and bliss, wdiere death shall
be banished for ever, and where sin shall have no
place. After having finished your course, you
wiir, I trust, again meet your father, in those
glorious and peaceful abodes, where the idea of
our frail mortality shall no longer disturb our
breasts, or fill them with shame ; and where the
miseries of this lif( shall no longer draw tears

from our eyes."

26*

SECTION II.

JOHN HOWARD.

John Howard, the indefatigable friend of the.
poor and unfortunate, was born at Hackney, in the
year 1726. Of his character and pious labours,
Dr. Aikin speaks in the following terms : —

" Among those truly illustrious persons who,
in the several ages and nations of the world, have
marked their track through life, by a continued
course of doing good, few have been so distin-
guished either by the extent of the good pro-
duced, or by the purity of motive and energy of
character exhibited in the process of doing it, as the
late John Howard. To have adopted the cause
of the prisoner, the sick, and the destitute, not
only in his own country, but throughout Europe ;
to have considerably alleviated the burden of pros
ent misery among those unfortunate classes, and,
at the same time, to have provided for the reform-
ation of the vicious, and the prevention of fu-
ture crimes and calamities ; to have been instru-
mental in the actual establishment of many plans
of humanity and utility, and to have laid the

306

JOHN BTOWARB. 30*f

foundation for much more improvement hereafter ;
and to have done all this, as a private, unaided, in-
dividual, struggling with toils, dangers, and diifi-
cullics, which might have appalled the most reso-
lute ; is surely a range of beneficence, which
scarcely ever before came within the compass of

one man's exertions.^

Attachment to religion was a principle which
had been imbibed by Howard in his jroulh ; and
which continued steady and uniform through life.
Though he seems early to have made up his
mind, as to the doctrines he thought best founded,
and the mode of worship he most approved, yet
religion abstractly considered, as the relation be-
tween man and his Maker, and the grand support
of morality, appears to have been the principal
object of his regard. This excellent principle
enlarged his heart, and led him to commiserate
the distresses of his fellow-creatures of every de-
scription ; and at length prompted him to devote
his life to the relief of suffering humanity.

Deeply impressed with a sense of the impor-
t:ince of his designs, and of the uncertainty of hu-
man life, he was desirous of doing as much as
possible within the allotted limits. And the num-
ber of prisons and hospitals which he visited, in
a short period of time, is surprising. The pious
and well-governed disposition by which he was

SOS JOHN HOWARDi

actuated, is forcibly expressed in the following
passage extracted from one of his interesting pub-
lications : —

"To my country I commit the result of my
past labours. It is my intention again to quit it,.
for the purpose of revisiting Russia, Turkey, and
some other countries, and extending my tour in
the east. I am not insensible of the dangers that
must attend such a journey. Trusting, however,
in the protection of that kind Providence which
has hitherto preserved me, I calmly and cheer-
fully commit myself to the disposal of unerring
Wisdom. Should it please God to cut off my life
in the prosecution of this design, let not my con-
duct be uncandidly imputed to rashness or en-
thusiasm : but to a serious, deliberate conviction^
that I am pursuing the path of duty ; and to a sin-
cere desire of being made an instrument of gi eater
usefulness to my fellow-creatures, than could be
expected in the narrow circle of a retired life."

A little before the last time of his leaving En^r-
land, when a friend expressed his concern at part-
ing with him, from an apprcliension that lliey
should never meet again, lie cheerfully replied : —
''We shall soon meet in heaven;" and, as he
rather expected to die of the plague in Esvpl, he
added : " The way to heaven from Grand Cairo, is
as near as from London." He said he was per-

JOHN HOWARD. 309

feclly easy as to the event ; and made use of the
words of Father Paul, who, when his physicians
told him he had not long to live, said : " It is well :
whatever pleases God, pleases me."

That in his singular and extensive course of
beneficence he was not influenced by a desire of
attracting the notice, or gaining the applause, of
his fellow-creatures, appears from his general life
and conduct ; and is particularly evident, from the
spirit and firmness with which he opposed the
design, formed by many persons of distinction in
this country, to erect a statue, or some other monu-
ment, to his honour.

The following passages are selected from some
of his letters on this subject : — " To hasten to the
other very distressing affair ; oh, why could not
my friends, who know how much I detest such
parade, have stopped so hasty a measure ! As a
private man with some peculiarities, I wished to
retire into obscurity and silence. Indeed, my
friend, I cannot bear the thought of being thus
dragged out. I immediately wrote ; and I hope
omething may be done to stop it. My best friends
inust disapprove the measure. It deranges and
confounds all my schemes ; my exaltation is my
fa.!, ny misfortune. — My best and most inti-
mate .viends have, I see by the papers, been so
kind as not to subscribe to what you so justly term

310 JOHN HOWARD.

a hasly measure. Indeed, if nothing now can be
done — I speak from my heart — never poor crea-
ture was more dragged out in public." That in
all this there was no affectation, clearly appeared
from the letter he sent to the subscribers ; in
which, after expressing his gratitude, he displayed
so determined a repugnance against admitting the
proposed honour, deprecating it as the severest of
punishments, that nothing could be urged in reply,
and the business was dropped.

Whilst this great and good man was ardently
labouring for the relief of distress, it pleased
Divine Providence to suffer him to fall a victim
to a disease, supposed to be the plague, at Cherson,
in the beginning of the year 1790. He was per
fectly sensible, during his illness, except at short
intervals, till within a very few hours before his
death. He was fully prepared for the event, and
often said, that he had -no wish for life, but as
it gave him the means of relieving his fellow
creatures.

A celebrated orator* has passed so fine a eulo-
gmm on the character of this excellent man, that
we insert it with particular satisfaction : —

— " I cannot name this gentleman without re-
marking, that his labours and writings have done

* Burke.

JOHN HOWARD. 311

much to open the eyes and hearts of mankind.
He lias visited all Europe, — not to survey the
sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of
tem])les ; not to make accurate measurements of
the remains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a
scale of the curiosity of modern art, nor to collect
medals, or collate manuscripts : — but to dive into
the depths of dungeons; to plunge into the in-
fection of hospitals; to survey the mansions of
sorrow and pain ; to take the gauge and dimensions
of misery, depression, and contempt ; to remember
ihe forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit
the forsaken, and compare and collate the dis-
tresses of all men in all countries. His plan is
original : it is as full of genius as it is of humanity.
It was a voyage of discovery ; a circumnavigation
of charity. Already the benefit of his labour is
felt more or less in every country : I hope he will
anticipate his final reward, by seeing all its effects
fully reahzed in his own.'*

We shall conclude the account of this benevo-
lent man, with a few beautiful lines, written on
his death, by Dr. Aikin : —

Howard, thy task is done! thy Master calls,
And summons thee from Cherson's distant walls.
" Come, well-approved ! my faithful servant come!
No more a wand'rer, seek thy destined home.
Long have I marked thee, with o'erruling eye,
And sent admiring angels from on high,

012 JOHN HOWARD.

To walk the paths of danger by thy side,

From death to shield thee, and through snares to guidff.

My minister of good, I've sped the way.

And shot through dungeon glooms a leading ray,

To cheer, by thee, with kind unhoped relief,

My creatures lost and whelmed in guilt and grief.

I've led thee, ardent, on through wond'ring climes.

To combat human woes and human crimes.

But 'tis enough ! — thy great commission 's o'er ;

I prove thy faith, thy love, thy zeal, no more.

Nor droop, that far from country, kindred, friends,

Thy life, to duty long devoted, ends:

What boots it xchere the high reward is giv'u,

Or whence the soul triumphant springs to heav'n,'*

Dr. Aikin has written a judicious and interesting account of
John Howard, under the title of "A View of the Character of
John Howard, Esq.," to which we refer the reader for farther in-
formation, respecting this truly pious and worthy rnaUr

SECTION III.

NEWTON'S LETTERS.

The following interesting examples of the pow-
er of religion, on the minds of persons in humble
hfe, are extracted from a work entitled, " Cardi-
phonia, or the Utterance of the Heart :'

."*

" Though the grand evidence of those truths
upon which our hopes are built, arises from the
authority of God declaring them in his word, and
revealing them by his Spirit to the awakened
heart ; (for till the heart is awakened, it is inca-
pable of receiving this evidence ;) yet some of
these truths are so mysterious, so utterly repug-
nant to the judgment of depraved nature, that
through the remaining influence of unbelief and
vain reasoning, the temptations of Satan, and the
subtle arguments with which some men, reputed
wise, attack the foundations of our faith, the
minds even of believers are sometimes capable of
being shaken. I know no better corroborating
evidence, for the relief of the mind imder such
assaults, than the testimony «f dying persons ;

— —

♦By John Newtox, Rector of St. Mary, Woolnoth, liOndon.

27 313

314 kewton's letters. /

especially of such as have lived out of the noise
of controversy, and who, perhaps, never heard
a syllable of what has been started in these evil
days, against some of the important articles of
the Christian Faith.

*' Permit me, my lord, to relate, upon this oc-
casion, some things which exceedingly struck me,
m the conversation I had with a young woman,
whom I visited in her last illness about two years
ago. She was a sober, prudent person, of plain
sense ; she could read the Bible, but had read lillle
besides. Iler knowledge of the world was nearly
confined to the parish ; for I suppose she was sel
dom, if ever, twelve miles from home. She had
known the Gospel about seven years before the
Lord visited her with a lingering consumption,
which, at length, removed her to a better world.
A few days previous to her death, in prayer by
her bedside, I thanked the Lord, that he gave
her now to see that she had not followed cun-
ningly-devised fables. When I had finished, she
repeated that expression : * No,' said she, * not
cunningly-devised fables ; these are realities in-
deed ; I feel their truth ; I feel their comfort. O,
tell my friends, tell iny acquaintance, tell inqui-
ring souls, tell poor sinners, tell all the daughters
of Jerusalem,'' alluding to Solomon's Song,
* what Jesus has done for my soul ! Tell them,
that now, in the time of need, I find him my Be-

Newton's letters, 315

loved, and my Friend ; and, as such, I commend
him to them.'

" She then fixed her eyes steadfastly upon me,
and proceeded, to the best .of my recollection, as
follows : * Sir, you are highly favoured, in being
called to preach the Gospel. I have often heard
vou with pleasure ; but give me leave to tell you,
that I now see all you have said, or that you can
say, is comparatively but little. Nor till you
come into my situation, and have death and eter-
nity full in your view, will it be possible for 3^ou
to conceive the vast weight and importance of the
truths you declare. Oh ! sir, it is a serious thing to
die ; no words can express what is needful to sup-
port the soul in the solemnity of a dying hour.'

" When I visited her again, she said : * I feel
that my hope is fixed upon the Rock of Ages : 1
know in whom I have believed. But the approach
of death presents a prospect which is, till then,
hidden from us, and which cannot be described.'
She said much more to the same purpose : and in
all she spoke, there were dignity, weight, and
evidence. We may well say, with Elihu, *Who
teacheth like the Lord !'

" Many instances of the like kind I have met
with here. I have a poor girl near me, whose
natural capacity is very small ; but the Lord has

816 Newton's letters,

beer, pleased to make her acquainted alternately
■\vilii great temptations, and proportionably grcal
discoveries of his love and truth : sometimes, when
her lieart is enlarged, I listen to her with astonish
ment. I think no books or ministers I ever met
with, Iiave given me such an impression and under-
standing of what the Apostle styles, Mhe deep
things of God,' as I have, upon some occasions,
received from her conversation.

" We have lost another of the people here : a
person of much experience, eminent grace, wis-
dom, and usefulness. She walked with God forty
years. She was one of the Lord's poor ; but her
poverty was decent, sanctified, and honourable.
She lived respected, and her death is considered
as a public loss. It is a great loss to me ; I shall
miss her advice and example, by which I have
been often edified and animated. Almost the last
words she uttered were : ' The Lord is my portion,
saith my soul.'

" My attendance upon the sick is not always
equally comfortable ; but could I learn aright, it
might be equally instructive. Some confirm to
me the preciousness of a Saviour, by the cheerful-
ness with which, through faith in his name, they
meet the king of terrors. Others no less confirm
it, by the terror and reluctance they discover,
when they find they must die. For though thero

If ETV ton's letters. 317

are too many who sadly slight the blessed Gospel,
while they are in health, yet, in this place, most
are too far enlightened to be quite thoughtless
about their souls, in their last illness, if they retain
their senses. Then, like the foolish virgins, they
say, * Give us of your oil !'

" Through the Lord's goodness, several whom I
have visited in these circumstances, have afforded
me a comfortable hope. I have seen a marvel-
lous and blessed change take place, in a few days,
.'n their language, views, and temper. I now visit
a young person, who is cut short in her nineteenth
year, by a consumption, and who I think cannot
live many days. I found her very ignorant and
insensible, and she remained so a good while ; but
of late, I hope, her heart is touched. She feels
her lost state ; she seems to have some right de-
sires ; and I cannot but think the Lord is teaching
her, and will reveal himself to her before she
departs.

** But the scene is sometimes different. I saw
a vounfy woman die the last week. I had been
often with her ; but the night she was removed,
she could only sa}^ * O, I cannot live ! I cannot
Hve !' She repealed this mournful complaint as long
as she could speak : for, as the vital powers were
more oppressed, her voice changed into groans ;
her groans grew fainter and fainter ; and in about a

27*

313 newton'^s letters.

quarter of an hour after she had done speaking,
she expired. Poor creature ! said I to myself, as
I stood by her bedside, if you were a dutchess, in
this situation, what could the world do for you
now? I thought, likewise, how many things are
there that now give us pleasure or pain, and as-
sume a mighty importance in our view, which, in a
dying hour, will be no more to us, than the clouds
that fly unnoticed over our heads ! Then the truth
of our Lord's declaration will be seen and felt, and
acknowledged : * One thing is needful.' And we
shall be ready to apply Grotius's dying confession
to a great part of our lives : ' Ah ! I have consumed
my time, in laboriously doing nothing !' "

How greatly does it exalt the mercy and
goodness of the universal Parent of mankind, to
perceive that his regard is equally towards his
children and people, whatever may be their sta-
tions and conditions in the world ! To the poor
and illiterate, as well as to the rich and learned,
the Gospel is preached ; and those of every class
who become truly humble and poor in spirit, and
those only, will cordially receive and rejoice in
it. Learning and knowledge are, indeed, orna-
ments and improvements of our nature ; and, as
well as riches, rank, and influence, enable us to
enlarge the sphere of our utility and beneficence :
but it is not hence to be inferred, either, that these
Qualifications are not attended with peculiar dan-

Newton's letters. 319

gcrs, temptations, and inquietudes, or, that the
Father of Spirits, who is just and equal in all his
ways, regards their possessors with distinguislied
marks of his favour. The wisdom of Providence,
to promote order and government in the earth,
has, indeed, ordained a diversity of talents and
conditions amongst men ; but he has also gra-
ciously declared, that to the religious and faith-
ful improvement, even of the fewest talents, shall
be annexed the highest reward that Ccin be con-
ferred upon us ; namely, that of " Well done, good
and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy
Lord." An humble and teachable disposition, a
pious, upright, and benevolent temper of mind, are
incomparably of greater worth, than all the accom-
plishments and possessions of the world ; and they
are the only attainments which, in all degrees of
knowledge, and in every station and condition of
life, will procure the Divine favour, and advance
as to real honour and happiness.

SECTION IV,

MARGARET M. ALTHENS.

Margaret M. Althens, a person of great
piety and virtue, was born in the year 1752. It
appears that, from early life, she was favoured
with impressions of a religious nature ; and that the
awful thoughts of heaven, hell, death, and eternity,
engrossed much of her attention. Her father died
when she was two and a half years old. Her
mother being a German, she was educated in the
language of that country, as well as in her native
tongue ; and in the fifteenth ^^ear of her age, she
was confirmed in the German chapel by Dr.
Wachscll. " I must acknowledge,*' says she, " that
he spared no pains to instruct me :n the great prin-
ciples of religion. But the endeavour of man
cannot reach the heart, unless influenced by the
Spirit and power of God. Though I was confirm-
ed, and admitted a member of the congregation, I
knew no more what a change of heart meant, or
an experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ, than
one who had never heard of him."

After this period, she appears, by her Memoirs,
to have experienced great trials, temptations, and

S20

MARGARET M. ALTHENS, 321

mental distress. She became so deeply alTected
with tlie sense of her condition, that her lieart was
filled with despair. Bat it pleased the God of
love and mercy io regard her with compassion, and
to visit and strengtlien her mind, by the gracious
operations of his Holy Spirit. She was gradually
enlightened, and enlarged in her religious views ;
and, at length, obtained an establishment in the
paths of piety and virtue ; and experienced a most
consoling persuasion, that her heavenly Father
would never forsake her.

The subject of this article, who possessed a cul-
tivated mind, was brought up with pleasing ex- .
pectations : but she participated in some of those
vicissitudes which are so common in human life.
For about seven 3-ears before her marriage, which
took place in 1784, she lived in the capacit}'- of a
servant. This humble situation w^as, however, so
sweetened and sanctified to her by the blessing of
God, that, in several parts of her Diary, she ex-
presses great thankfulness to him, for those dis-
pensations of his providence, which though pain-
ful at the time, were necessary to her spiiitual im-
provement. She was thereby secluded from many
temptations and snares, which she apprehended
might otherwise have retarded her progress in the
Christian life. Her state of dependance was, with-
out doubt, less burdensome to her, because her
trust was in the Lord whom she served.

322 MARGARET M. ALTHENS.

The character of this excellent woman, who
appears to have been happy in her marriage, is
strongly portrayed, in two letters which she wrote
to her husband, and which appear to have been
intended for his perusal, after her decease. We
presume they will be acceptable to the reader.
They contain great piety, great resignation, and
a Iriunlphant faith in the mercy and acceptance
of her God and Redeemer. They exhibit a lively
and animating example of true conjugal affection ;
and Christian desires for the best interests of a
beloved partner, mingled with the joyful prospect
of a blessed leunion of their spirits, in the man-
sions of eternal peace.

LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, NO. I.

My most dearly beloved !

I frequently hear of the death of one and an-
other in child-bed, which fills my mind with appre-
hensions ; for what am I better than they, that I
should expect more favour from the Lord ?

The sun of prosperity has shone upon mo for
five years, and I have been blessed with one of
the best of husbands ; which makes the thought
of the parting stroke most sensibly painful to me
If it were not for the great realities of religion, I
could not give up the beloved of my heart. All
the powers of my soul are at work, when I think
what your feelings will be, in the trying hour of

MARGARET M. ALTHEN3. 323

separation. But, my dearest, grieve not as with-
out hope. When a few years more have finished
their course, I trust, tlirough the merits of the
great Redeemer, that we shall have a happy meet-
ing in our heavenly Father's house. Then, part-
ing, sighs, and tears, shall be no more. Then, I
humbly hope, we shall be for ever united, in singing
the song of Moses and the Lamb.

The Almighty, who by a chain of providences
brought us together, and only lent me to you for a
short space, has an undoubted right to recall me
when he pleases. Very pleasant hast thou been
to me in life, and in death we shall not be divided.
You will shed a tear to my memory, when you
reflect on the many, yea, I may say, very many,
happy liours we have spent, and the endearing
conversation we have had together. But the sub-
ject is too delicate ; I must not dwell on it. Those
seasons are now past. They are vanished, like
the morning cloud, or early dew. Nothing now
presents itself to me, but sorrow, anguish, weepmg
friends, the gloomy appendages of death, and an
opening grave.

This is a dreary ]i;rospect ; but, blessed be
God, here it ends. Beyond the grave, the scenes
are bright and happy. My reconciled God in
Christ Jesus, will receive me, place a crown of
glory upon my head, and fix my abode for ever

324 MARGARET M. ALTHENS.

among the sons of light. Angels wait their com"
Diission to conduct me to the New Jerusaicm above ;
when, with a golden harp, and a palm of victory, 1
shall shine a monument of mercy.

There shall I wait the happy period of yonr ar-
rival. Let this consideration restrain your tears :
your sincerely affectionate wife is not dead, but
sleepeth. You may commit my body to the
ground, in sure and certain hope of a joyful resur-
rection. When you are performing the last kind
ofRces of affection, I shall be rejoicing before the
throne of God, drinking of the rivers of pleasure
that are at his right hand.

If I should leave a helpless infant, you will take
care of it, and let it be brought up with the rest,
m the nurture and admonition of the Lord. I am
not solicitous to have my children great ; but it is
my earnest wish and prayer, that they may be
good. My beloved, press forward, a glorious prize
awaits you. Be faithful unto death, and you shall
obtain it. If you see me in my coffin, rejoice over
me, and say : What was mortal the worms shall
destroy ; but her soul, arrayed in the robe of the
Redeemer's righteousness, lives, to die no more.
Death is swallowed up in victory. We fall, we
rise, we reign !

May the God of my youth, the protector of my

MARGARET M. ALTHENS. S25

advancing years, and the support of my now de-
clining days, keep you under the shadow of his
ahiiighty wings ! May he be your guard and
guide through hfe, your comfort in the hour of
dissoiution, and your portion and happiness through
the ages of eternity !

Your affectionate wife, in Hfe and death,

M. M, A,

LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, NO. II.

My most dearly beloved !

When you are reading these lines, there will be
nothing left of me but a cold lump of clay. I
bless God for having heard and answered my
prayer for, you know, I have often expressed a
desire, that m}^ immortal spirit might take its flight
before yours. Long may you live, for the sake of
)'0ur dear family, to bring them up in tlie fear of
the Lord ! Let me entreat you not to sorrow as
one without hope ; for be assured that I am happy.
I know ihat the enormous account of my sins is
blotted out, by the precious blood of my crucified
Redeemer ; who came into the world to call, not
the righteous, but such sinners as I am, to repent-
ance : and he has declared, that where he is. Ins
people shall also be. So that I am only trans-
planted from the church militant, into the church
triumphant, to join with that general assembly, in
praising the riches of redeeming grace and dying
love.

326 MARGARET M. ALTHEN3.

I hope you have no doubt of the shicerity of my
affection to you. Heaven is my witness, that your
temporal and spiritual welfare, has been the sub-
ject of my incessant prayers ; and, I trust, they
will be answered, when I am sleeping in the dust.
If the disembodied spirits may be favoured with
the knowledge of things done below, and still in-
terested in the concernments of their dear relatives,
as I liave some reason to think they will ; — how
gladly shall I accept the pleasing employ, of at-
tending you as an invisible guardian angel, to warn
you of dangers, and lend you aid in every season
of distress ! My first care should be, to wipe
the tears from your beloved cheek ; to sooth the
wound my removal has made ; and to help you
to triumph over your loss, with the fortitude
and resignation becoming you, as a child of
God.

Time is short. In a few revolving years, at
most, your silver cord of life will be loosed, and
your golden bowl broken. Then, when every
earthly comfort shall fade, you will know the
worth of redemption, by the sufferings and death
of the Son of God. O, that when flesh and heart
shall fail, you may find him your strength and por-
tion ! If so, wnat a joyful meeting shall we have,
to part no more ; in his presence, where there is
fulness of joy, and where all tears shall be wiped
away !

MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 327

I thank you for all the kindness you have shown
to me, a most unworthy creature. You have in-
deed been a tender and affectionate husband to me.
In you, I have found a bosom friend ; and my cares
have been reposed in your beloved breast. My
earthly happiness has been too great. I acqui-
esce. He who gave me life has a right to take it.
I go to permanent happiness, without alloy, where
sorrow can find no entrance.

And now, with all the solemn appendages of
death in my view ; the gloomy grave, and an
eternal world, into which I am about to enter ; J
lift up my hands in supplication for you. May tiie
blessings of the eternal Jehovah rest upon you '
May his presence be your light and your strength,
to direct and support you, through all the changes
of this mortal life ! And when you are bidding
adieu to all in this world, may his almighty arm be
your defence ; and may his heavenly messengers
convey your departing spirit to the unsullied re-
gions of eternal peace ! Adieu ! till we meet to
part no more. The Lord bless you !

Your affectionate wife,

M. M. A.

In the last illness of this truly religious person,
she was favoured with an entire trust in God, and
with an earnest longing for that happy stale,
\\'hich she believed was prepared for her. — At one

328 MARGARET M. ALTHENS.

time, she says in her Diary : " I hope I can adopt

the language of Dr. Young : —

" ' Or life, or death, is equal j neither weighs
All weight in this — O ! let me live to thee.' "

At another time, she thus expresses herself:
" I am stiJl under the care of a physician ; but he
gives me no hope. Indeed it would be both cruel,
and in vain to flatter me now ; for my own weak-
ness informs me, that I am going apace. I bless
my God, I can now say, Thy will be done. I can
give up my dear husband and children, with every
earthly connexion, into his hands. He will take
care of them. My husband's trial is great. I feel
more for him than for myself. But heaven will
make amends for all. O, how I pant and thirst
for the happy hour, when my father will send his
angels to convey my spirit to rest !"

She obtained her long desired release from sni
and sorrow, in the summer of the year 1789, and
at the age of thirty-seven years, within a few days.

SECTION V.
ZIMMERMAN.

The following tribute to the memory of a be
loved daughter, was written by Doctor Zimmer-
man ; and marks the piety of his own mind, as
well as the influence of religion on the amiable
subject of his sorrow : —

*' May I be permitted here to give a short ac-
count of a young person, whose memory I am
extremely anxious to preserve ? The world was
unacquainted with her excellence : she was known-
to those only whom she has left behind to bewail
lier loss. Her sole pleasures were those which a
retired and virtuous life affords. She was active,
invariably mild, and always compassionate to the
miseries of others. Diffident of her own powers,
she relied with perfect confidence on the good-
ness of God, and listened attentively to the pre-
cepts of a fond parent. Taught by my ex-
perience, submitting to my judgment, she en-
tertained for me the most ardent affection ; and
30'ivinced me, not by professions, but by actions,
o( lier sincerity. Willingly \vould I have re-
signed my life to have saved hers ; and I am
satisfied that she would cheerfully have given up
her own, to preserve mine. One of my greatest
pleasures was, to please her; and my endeavoura

28* 329

330 ZIMMERMAN.

for that purpose were most gratefully returned
She gave many proofs of this kind and amiable
temper: and I shall mention one, which, though
small in itself, was peculiarly pleasing to me.
She frequently presented me with a rose, which
she knew was my favourite flower. I ever re-
ceived it from her hand with delight, and pre-
served it as a rich treasure.

'* From her earliest infancy, she had been the
submissive victim of ill health. But though of a
weak frame of body, and very deeply afflicted,
she bore her sufferings with steady fortitude, and
pious resignation to the dispensation of Heaven.
Her appetite was almost gone when we left
Swisserland ; a residence which, though pecu-
liarly endeared to her, she quitted with her usual
sweetness of temper, and without discovering the
smallest regret. Soon after our arrival at Han-
over, she fell into a deep decline, which, at
length, terminated in a hemorrhage of the lungs,
of a very uncommon nature, that soon deprived
me of the comfort of this beloved child. From
the knowledge I had of her constitution, I appre-
hended that the disorder would prove mortal.
How frequently, during that fatal day, did my
wounded, bleeding heart, bend me on my knees
before God, to supplicate for her recovery ! But
I concealed my feelings from her observation.
Although sensible of her danger, she never dis-

ZIMMERMAN. 331

coTered the least apprehension. Smiles played
around her pallid cheeks, whenever I entered or
quitted the room. Though worn down by the
fatal distemper, a prey to the most corroding sor-
rows, the sharpest and most afflicting pains, she
made no complaint. She mildly answered all
my questions, by some short sentence, without
entering into any detail. Her decay and im-
pending dissolution became obvious to the eye;
but to the last moment of her life, her counte-
nance preserved a serenity correspondent to the pu-
rity of her mind, and the tender emotions of her
heart. Thus I beheld my dear, my only daugh-
ter, at the age of five-and-twenty, after a tedious
suffering of nine long months, expire in my arms.

" During the short time we passed at Hanover,
where she was much respected and beloved, she
amused herself by composing several religious
pieces, which were afterwards found among her
papers ; and in which she implores death to afford
her a speedy relief from her pains. About the
same period, she wrote also many letters, which
were always affecting, and frequently sublime.
They were filled with expressions of the same
desire, speedily to unite her soul with the Author
of her being. The last words that my dear, my
excellent child uttered, amidst the most painful
agonies, were these : * To-day I shall taste tho
joys of heaven!'"

SECTIOW VI.

JAMES HAY BEATTIE.

James Hay Beattie, son of Dr. James Beattie,
professor of moral philosophy and logic in the
university of Aberdeen, was born in the year
176S. He died early in life at the age ot
twenty-two ; but wisdom, not years, is the gray
hair to man, and mispotted life is old age.

This young man possessed a fine genius, great
rigour of understanding, and a very uncommon'*
portion of learning and knowledge : but tlie recti
tude of heart, and genuine piety, by which he was
so eminently distinguished, are the qualities which
render him a proper subject for these memoirs.

We shall select a few traits of the life and character
of this excellent youth, as proofs of his uncommon
merit, and of the power of religion on his mind.

His father never had occasion to reprove him
above three or four times, during the whole of his
life : bodily chastisement he never experienced at
all. It would indeed have been most unreasonable
to apply this mode of discipline to one, whose
supreme concern it ever was, to know his duty,
and to do it. The first rules of morality which
his father taught him, were^ to speak truth, and

332

JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 333

keep a secret; and it never appeared tliat in a
single instance, lie transgressed eitlier. His whole
behaviour, at school and college, was not only
irreproachable, but exemplary. In the year 1787,
the king, upon the recommendation of the uni-
versity of Marischal college, was pleased to ap-
point him assistant professor of moral philosophy
and logic. His age was then not quite nineteen ;
but to the gentlemen of the university his character
was so well known, that they most readily, as well
as unanimously, concurred in the recommendation.
His steadiness, good-nature, and self-command,
secu)-ed his authority as a teacher : and by his
presence of mind, and ready recollection, he
satisfied his audience that, though young, he was
abundantly qualified to instruct them.

Piety and meekness were striking features in
his character, habitual to him in infancy, and
throudi life. The Christian relioion and its
evidences he had studied with indefatigable ap-
plication ; and the consequence was such, as may
always be expected in like cases, where the in-
quirer has candour and sense : no person could
love his religion more than he did, or believe in it
with fuller assurance of faith. But in his behaviour
there was no austerity or singularity. The effect
of religion upon his mind was, to make him
cheerful, considerate, benevolent, intrepid, hum-
ble, and ha)7py. He loved the whole human

334 JAMES HAY BEATTIE.

race ; he bore a particular love to Christians ; and
he wished all parlies to exercise Christian charity
towards each other. He wished to be, and to be con-
sidered as a Christian ; a title which he thought
infinitely more honourable than any other.

•

The purity and the delicacy of his mind were
great; and in one so young, were truly admi-
rable, and worthy of imitation. He was aware of
the danger of admitting indelicate or improper
thoughts into his mind ; for he knew that associa-
tions of ideas, disapproved both by reason as in
congruous, and by conscience as immoral, might
in a moment be formed, in consequence of inad-
vertence, even when there was no settled pro-
pensity to evil. His attention was continually
awake to learn, although from the slightest hint,
or most trivial circumstance, what might be useful,
in purifying his mind, regulating his conduct, or
improving his understanding.

He .was almost constantly occupied in dis-
charging the duties of his office, in performing
acts of kindness^, or in planning works of literature
for the benefit of mankind ; and there is every
reason co believe, that if his life had been
lengthened, he would Jiave be^n eminently useful
in the world. But it pleased Divine Providence
to permit this promising youih to be rut down by
disease, in the morning of life. Wh*»T. hij discsUe*

lAMES HAY BEATTIE. 835

had made great progress, and he saw death ap-
proaching, he met it with his usual calmness and
resignation. One evening, while he was expecting
the physician, who had been sent for in the belief
that he was just going to expire, he sweetly said ;
*' How pleasant a medicine is Christianity!"

He sometimes endeavoured to reconcile his
father's mind to the thought of parting with him ;
but, for fear of giving him pain, spoke seldom and
sparingly on that subject. " One day," says his
father, " when I was sitting by him, he began to
speak in very affectionate terms, as he often had
done, of what he called my goodness to him,
I begged him to drop that subject ; and was pro-
ceeding to tell him, that I had never done any
thing for him but what duty required, and incli-
nation prompted ; and that, for the little I had
done, his filial piety and other virtues, were to
me more than a sufficient recompense, — when he
interrupted me, (which he was not apt to do,)
and, starting up, with inexpressible fervour and
solemnity, implored the blessing of God upon me.
His look at that moment, though I shall never
forget it, I can describe in no other way than b}
saying, that it seemed to have in it something
more than human, and what I may not very im-
properly perhaps call angelic. Seeing me agita-
ted, he expressed concern for what he had done ;
and said that whatever might be in his mind, ha

336 JAM0S HAY BEATTIB,.

would not any more put my feelings to so severe
a trial. Sometimes, however, warm sentiments of
gratitude would break from him : and those were
the only occasions on which, during the whole
course of his illness, he was observed to shed tears,
till the day before his death : when he desired to-
see his brother, gave liim his blessing, wept over
him, and bid him farewell."

The preceding traits of the life and virtues of this
amiable and accomplished youth, are taken from an
account of his life and character, written and pub
lished by his very worthy father, Dr. James Beatlie ;
to which pubhcation the compiler refers the reader
for further particulars. He will find it a well-written,,
instructive, and most interesting detail of the sen-
timents and conduct of this excellent young man.

We cannot better close this memoir, than by
transcribing the pious and pathetic lines of hij?
father, at the conclusion of that work : " I have
lost the pleasantest, and, for the last four or five
jT-ears of his short life, one of the most instructive
companions, that ever man was delighted with.
But, * the Lord gave ; the Lord hath taken away '
blessed be the nam.e of the Lord.' — I adore the
Author of all Good, who gave him grace to lead
such a life, and die such a death, as makes it im-
possible for a Christian to doubt of his having en-
tered upon the inheritance of a happy immortality."

SECTION vn.

ELIZABETH SMITH.

This amiable and excellent person was bom at
Biu'nhall in the county of Durham, in the year
1776, at which place her parents then resided in
affluent circumstances, though afterwards they ex-
perienced a reverse of fortune. At a very early
age, she discovered that love of reading, and that
close application to whatever she engaged in, which
marked her character through life. She was ac-
customed, when only three years old, to leave an
elder brother and younger sister to play and amuse
themselves, whilst she eagerly seized on such books
as a nursery library commonly affords, and made
herself mistress of their contents. At four years
of age, she read extremely well ; and, from the
judicious account which her mother gives of her,
it appears, that whatever she did was loell done,
and with an apparent consideration far beyond her
years.

As she grew up, she was remarkable for a thirst
of knowledge, for regularity, and observation.
Her person and manners were highly pleasing, and
her disposition was mild and benevolent. She had
a pensive softness of countenance, that indicated
deep reflection : but her extreme timidity con-

29 337

333 ELIZABETH SMITH,

cealed, for a time, the very extraordinary talenlft
which she possessed. She was instructed, and
made great progress, in the accomplishnfients, which
are usually taught to females in the polished circles
of life. But she was eminently distinguished for a
love of learning, a facility in acquiring languages,
and a desire to improve her mind. With scarcely
any assistance, she taught herself the French,
Italian, Spanish, German, Latin, Greek, and
Hebrew languages : and she had no inconsiderable
knowledge of Arabic and Persic. She w^as well
acquainted with geometry, algebra, and other
branches of the mathematics.

"With all these acquirements," says her excel-
lent biographer, " she was perfectly feminine in her
disposition ; elegant, modest, gentle, and affec-
tionate : nothing was neglected which a woman
ought to know ; no duty was omitted, which her
situation in life required her to perform. But
the part of her character, on which," continues her
biographer, " I dv^^ell with the greatest satisfaction,
is that exalted piety, v*^hich seemed always to raise
her above this world ; and taught her, at sixteen
years of age, to resign its riches and its pleasures,
almost without regret, and to support with dignity
a very unexpected change of situation. — For some
years before her death, the Holy Scripture was
her principal study ; and she translated from the
Hebrew the whole book of Job, &c., &c. The

ELIZABETH SMITH. 339

benefit which she herself derived from these studies,
must be evident to those who witnessed the pa-
tience and resignation with which she supported a
long and painful illness, the sweet attention which
she always showed to the feelings of her parents
and friends, and the heavenly composure with
which she looked forward to the awful change,
which has now removed her to a world * where,'
as one of her friends observes, ' her gentle, pure,
and enlightened spirit, will find itself more at
home, than in this land of shadows.' "

This pious and admirable young person, was
not destined by Divine Providence to continue
long on this stage of probation and conflict. In
the summer of 1805, she caught a cold, which,
though at first it seemed not to be of much conse-
quence, gradually impaired her constitution ; so
.that, in little more than a year from the com-
mencement of the disorder, her valuable life was
terminated. She finished her course in the thir-
tieth year of her age.

After her death, there was found amongst her
manuscripts, a number of reflections on a variety
of important subjects, moral and religious. We
shall select a few of these, and present them to the
reader, as interesting specimens of the goodness
both of her head and her heart : —

840 ELIZABETH SMITH.

*'"' Pleasure is a rose near which there ever
grows the thorn of evil. It is wisdom's work so
carefully to cull the rose, as to avoid the thorn,
and let its rich perfume exhale to heaven in grate-
ful adoration of Him who gave the rose to blow."

" The Christian life may be compared to a
magnificent column, whose summit always points
to heaven. Tlie innocent and therefore real plea
sures of this world, are the ornaments on the
pedestal ; very beautiful and highly to be enjoyed,
when the eye is near; but which should not too
long, or too frequently detain us from that just
distance, where we can contemphue the whole
column, and where the ornaments on its base dis-
appear."

"How lisrht are all the troubles of this world,
to those who value every thing it contains, ac-
cording to its real worth ! They may appear in
sensible, to those who reckon by a different
standard ; but they can bear even this imputation,
for they know the value of human applause. How
hnppy should we be, if we could alwnys feel, as we
sometimes think !

" No event which I thou2;ht unfortunate has
ever happened to me, but I have been convinced,
at some time or other, that it was not a misfortune,
but a blessing. I can never then in reason com-

ELIZABETH SMITH. 341

plain of any thing that happens, because I am
persuaded it is permitted for some good purpose*

" An hour well spent condemns a life. When
we reflect on the sura of improvement and delight
gained in that single hour, how do the multilude
of hours already past, rise up and say, what good
has marked us ? Would st thou know the true
worth of time, employ one hour"

The following lines, contained in a little pocket-
book, and written by her in the year 1798, when
she had attained the age of twenly-one years, are
peculiarly interesting. They indicate the deep
sense which she had of the value and importance
of religion : —

"Being now arrived at what is called years of
discretion, and looking back on my past life with
shame and confusion, when I recollect the many
advantages I have had, and the bad use I have
made of them, the hours I have squandered, and
the opportunities of improvement I have neg-
lected ; — when I imagine what, with those ad-
vantages, I ought to be, and find myself what I
am : — I am resolved to endeavour to be more care-
ful, for the future, if the future be granted mc ;
to try to make amends for past negligence, by em-
ploying every moment I can command, to some

good purpose ; to endeavour to acquire all the

29*

342 ELIZABETH SMITH.

little knowledge that human nature is capable of
on earth ; but to let the word of God be my chief
study, and all others subservient to it ; to model
m3^self as far as I am able, according to the Gospel
of Christ ; to be content while my trial lasts, and
when it is finished, to rejoice, trusting in the merits
of my Redeemer. I have written these resolutions,
to stand as a witness against me, in case I should
be inclined to forget them, and to return to my
former indolence and thoughtlessness, because 1
have found the inutility of mental determinations.
May God grant me strength to keep them !"

These pious and holy resolutions, were, we pre
sume, succeeded by great watchfulness against
temptations, and by devout and earnest endeavours to
secure the momentous and happy objects which she
had in view. — Her trials and conflicts are all over ;
and she is gone to receive, through Divine Grace,
the reward of her virtues. But her example still
remains ; and to those by whom it is duly contem-
plated, it may prove a powerful incentive, to imi-
tate her goodness, and to aspire after that future
blessedness, which animated her hopes and ex-
ertions.

ELIZABETH CARTEK.

Elizabeth Carter, a person highly o,. tirnable
for her learning, talents, and virtues, was born at
Deal, in the year 1717. Her father. Dr. Nicholas
Carter, a clergyman in Kent, was a man of great
learning, and of exemplary character. He gave
all his children, daughters as well as sons, a learn-
ed education. But the infancy and early youth of
Elizabeth afforded no promise of the attainments
which she afterwards acquired. Yet even then, it
was her most eager desire to be a scholar, though
nature seemed to forbid it. She gained the rudi-
ments of knowledge with great labour and
difficulty ; and her perseverance was put to a
most severe trial. This ardent thirst after know-
ledge, was, however, at length crowned with
complete success ; and her acquirements became,
even very early in life, such as are rarely met
with. Her proficiency in languages was very
extraordinary, for her age and sex. Besides Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew, she became possessed of the
French, Italian, Spanish, and German tongues ;
the last three of which she attained without a
master.

843

344 ELIZABETH CARTER.

Poetry was one of her early tastes ; and in 1738
she published a small collection of Poems, writte^i
before she was twenty years of age. The sciences
were not neglected by her. She paid great atten
tion to astronomy; which she thought a roble
study, and in which she made a very consid rablt
progress. She gained such a knowledge of ' istory,
both ancient and modern, as is rarely a quired ;
and her taste for that engaging, as well iS useful
branch of science, she never lost. Ye ,, amidst
her various applications and employp cnts, she
found time to work a great deal with her
needle, not only for herself, but also fo) die family.
She was not inattentive to domesli economy,
and the occupations that belong to the female
character.

"But among her studies, there was one whi<:h
she never neglected ; one which was alwaj'-s dear to
her, from her earliest infancy to the latest period
of her life, and in which she made a conlinnal
improvement. This was that of Religion, which
was her constant care, and greatest delight. Her
acquaintance with the Bible, some part of which
she never failed to read every day, was as complete,
as her belief in it was sincere. And no person
ever endeavoured more, and few with greater
success, to regulate the whole of their conduct by
that unerring guide. — Her piety was indeed tlie
very piety of the Gospel, shown not by enthu-

ELIZABETH CARTER. 345

siasm, or depreciating that of others, but by a
calm, rational, and constant devotion, and the
most unwearied attention to acquire the temper,
and practice the duties of a Christian life.
She never thanked God, like the proud Pharisee,
that she was not like others : but rather, like the
Publican, besought him' to be merciful to her a
sinner.

*' She admired, and warmly felt, the beauties
of vv^orks of genius and fancy ; but in her estima
lion, the one thing needful^ duty to God and
man, in its highest sense, superseded all the
rest. Hence the works of art, and the beauties of
nature, equally turned her thoughts in gratitude
to Him, who has granted us faculties and senses
capable of giving and receiving so much innocent
pleasure."

This excellent woman had a heart finely adapted
to friendship ; and she possessed many friends of
distinguished character, who proved the instru-
ments of much enjoyment to her. In particular,
she formed an intimate connexion with the accom-
plished Catherine Talbot, who was niece to the
lord chancellor Talbot, and who possessed con
siderable genius, and a most amiable disposition.
This was an important event in the life of EHzabeth
Carter. The intimacy of their friendship, the
interesting nature of their correspondence, and the

846 ELIZABETH CARTER.

exalted piety of both, rendered this connexion the
principal ingredient of their mutual happiness. Il
procured also the friendship of Dr. Seeker, arch-
bishop of Canterbury, with whom her beloved
Catherine resided. Under these favourable circum-
stances, she extended her knowledge of the world,
cherished her profound learning, and exercised her
pious views and sentiments. It was by the desire
of this valued female friend, enforced by the bishop
of Oxford that she undertook the work, by which
her literary reputation has been most known abroad,
and will be long remembered by scholars at home,
her translation of Epictetus.

She was, for many years, happy in her union
and intercourse with a woman so very dear to her :
and when the time of their separation came, it was,
as may be supposed, an event deeply affecting to
her susceptible mind. From a letter which she
wrote, on this melancholy occasion, we extract the
following passages : " Never surely was there a
more perfect pattern of evangelical goodness, deco-
rated by all the ornaments of a highly improved
understanding; and recommended by a sweetness
of tem.per, and an elegance and politeness of
manners of a peculiar and more engaging kind,
than in any other character I ever knew. — Little,
alas ! infinitely too little have I yet profited by the
blessing of such an example. God grant that her
memory, which I hope will ever survive in my

ELIZABETH CARTER,

347

heart, may produce a happier effect. Adieu, my
dear friend. God bless you ; and conduct us both
to that happy assembl^^ where the spirits of the
just shall dread no future separation ! And may
we both remember that awful truth, that we can
hope to die the death of the righteous only by
resembling their lives.'*

The subject of this memoir survived her lament-
ed friend many years : and it appears that her lamp
continued to burn brightly, till there was no fuel
left to supply it.

" About nine years before her death, she re-
turned from London at her usual time, much dis-
ordered by a complaint which was supposed to be
the Saint Anthony's Fire. In the course of the
summer she was reduced by it to the lowest ex-
tremity ; and was given over by her medical atten-
dants, and by all her friends. She thought herself
going, and was prepared for the important change.
Though her strength failed, her spirits never
flagged, and she spoke of her approaching depart-
ure,''with the most pious hope and resignation,
and even with cheerfulness. Her life, she said,
had been a prosperous and happy one, and if it
seemed fit to God she would be glad to live
longer; if it was his pleasure to take her, she
war ready and willing to depart ; and trusted
to his mercies, through Christ, for the forgive-

348 ELIZABETH CARTER.

ness of her sins. It pleased God, however, that
she should return from the very verge of the
grave ; but her recovery was slow, and incomplete
at best ; and she never recovered her former
strength."

At length, the period approached, when this
distinguished person was to take her final leave of
all transitory objects. Her strength gradually
wasted ; and to most of her friends it was evident,
that she was journeying slowly., but surely, towards
the house appointed for all living. Yet " her
piety was as fervent, her temper as mild, and her
wishes for those she loved as warm, as in the time
of her strong health." She retained her senses
till within a few hours of her decease : which took
place in the winter of the year 1806, and in the
89th year of her age.

A few extracts from the writings of this truly
valuable woman, will further evince the excellence
of her religious principles ; the piety and devotion
of her mind : and her entire resignation to the will
of her heavenly Father.

THOUGHTS ON THE PRESENT STATE OP
AFFAIRS, 1752.

The last winter has been a calamitous one to
several nations, and alarming to our own ; and

ELIZABETH tJARTER. S49

llie summer prospect is clouded with impending
dangers. What melliod can I tnke to avoid the
tlireatened evil, or to quiet my fears ? Can
I fly into some distant country, and endeavour
to secure myself there? M}^ connexions and
attachments render this an impracticable scheme.
Shall I depend for protection on the assist-
ance of my friends ? They are helpless and
defenceless as myself. Is there then no refuge
left ? Yes ; a reliance on Him, in whose hand
are the issues of life and deatli, and the disposal of
all events.

And have 1 then been careful to secure an interest
in this Almighiy Protector, this unfailing friend^
Dare I, with humble hope and confidence, look
up for aid and support to that God, who is of
purer eyes than to behold iniquity ? This is an
awful and important inquiry, and merits my most
serious attention. Let me examine niy own heart.
Of atrocious crimes perhaps it fully acquits me :
but lo these have I any temptation ? In avoiding
them, how little have I to boast! But are there
not faults of a less observable nature, and often
much too sligluly overlooked, for which in my
situation, I am strictly accountable ? V)y the gra-
cious dispensation of Providence, I am a Christian :
have I dul}^ ct)nsidered what this sacred character
imports? what a strictness of behaviour my pro-
fession requires ? Is religion, and a perpetual

350 ELIZABETH CARTEK.

Ticw to the solemn account which I mnst
one day render, the governing principle of my
life ? Does it, as far as mortal frailty will permit,
influence my whole conduct, my actions, my dis-
courses, and accompany me even in my diveraiona
and amusements ?

In this season of public danger, let me consider
in what particulars I am faulty ; and sincerely en-
deavour, by the divine assistance, to correct what I
discover to be wrong.

Fear, when it terminates in itself, is a painful
and contemptible passion : but, properly applied,
may be sanctified to a noble use. That use our
blessed Saviour has pointed out to me. If the fear
of God influences me to correct whatever would
tend to deprive me of his favour and protection,
what else shall I have to fear? Whatever be the
event of the present alarming dangers, to me, if I
do not forfeit my hope in the Divine Goodness, it
will certainly be happy. Though the earth trembler
beneath my feet, my soul will be immoveably fixed
on the Rock of Ages ; and when the sword hangs
over my head, I shall acquaint myself iviih God,
and he at peace.

ELIZABETH CARTER.- 351

EXTRACT FROM A LETTER TO-. .

To consider the Gospel merely as a subject of
speculation, \Yliicli we are at liberty to examine, or
lei alone, just as our other avocations will allow, is
not having such a sense of its awful importance, as
gives room to expect any satisfaction from the in*
quiry. To examine it more diligently, and more
in earnest, yet entirely with a confidence in our
own understanding, is not having a proper sense
of human weakness. Religion is a most solemn
transaction between God and the soul, founded on
every relation in which we stand to him ; and it is
only by keeping up a perpetual intercourse with
him, and by an endeavour to form not only
our outward behaviour, but the whole internal
L-ame of our mind, with a reference to his appro-
bation, that we can become sufficiently divested of
all wrong tendencies, to be duly qualified to judge
of the truth of any revelation proposed in liis name.

Those who sincerely w^ish to make his will the
first object of their choice, who submit their under-
standing to his direction, and implore and depend
on his assistance to guard them from error, his
goodness w^ill never sufifer to be fatally misled :
and tliey will enter on their inquiry, with a full
security of obtaining every degree of conviction
which is necessary to their virtue and their peace.
So true I believe is the position that conviction

35U ELIZABETH CARTER*

depends on the heart, that I think you will not, m
the wliolc circle of your observation, find a single
instance of a person whose heart was disposed in
the manner which I have described, who ever
continued an unbeliever.

ON THE OCCASION OF MAKING HER WILL.

In the solemn act of making one's last w*ilL some-
thing surely ought to be added to the mere forms
of law. Upon this occasion, which is a kind of
taking leave of the world, I acknowledge, with
gratitude and thanksgiving, how much I owe to
the Divine Goodness, for a life distinguished by in-
numerable and unmerited blessinn;s.

Next to God, the supreme and original authof
of all happiness, 1 desire to express my thank-
fidncss to those whom he has made the instrumcnls
of conveying liis benefits to me. Most particularly
I am indebted to my father, for his kindness and
indulgence to me, in every instance, and especially
in the uncommon care and pains he has taken in
my education ; v;hicli has been the source of such
a variety of reasonable pleasures, as well as of very
great advantages in my conversation with the
world. I likewise very heartily thank my mother,*
my brothers and sisters, for all the instance;, of

-*■ . ■- ..,■■■. — - ,. . . _ - , ■ ■ ■■ , . ,— ,■

• Her mother-in-law, who was then living.

ELIZABETH CARTER. 353

kindness and affection, by which they have con-
tributed to the comfort of my hfe. If, in this
disposition of my affairs, I appear to have made
any distinction, I entreat them to beheve, that
not any difference in my own good-will to ihem,
but a regard to their different circumstances, has
been the real motive of it.

Besides my own family, there are very many
others, to whom I have been obliged, for very
considerable advantages, in the assistance and
pleasures of friendship. Of these I retain a most
affectionate and grateful memory ; and desire all
my inticnate friends to consider themselves as
included in my sincere acknowledgments.

And now, O gracious God, whether it be thy
W'ill to remove me speedily from the world, or
to allot me a longer time in it, on Thee alone I
depend for happiness both here and hereafter.
I acknowledge my own unworthiness, and that
all my claim to tliy favour is founded on thy infi-
nite goodness in the merciful dispensation of the
Gospel. I implore the pardon of all my sins,
and humbly hope for those pleasures which are
at thy right-hand for evermore, in and through
Him by whom all thy blessings are conveyed,
my blessed Lord, Redeemer, and only Saviour,
Jpsus Christ. Elizabeth Carter.

February 9, 1759.

30*

351 ELIZABETH CAKFER.

A MORNING PRAYER.

O God, my merciful Father, I liiimhly thank
Thee for preserving me in safety the past night,
for refreshing me with quiet sleep, and raising
me in heahh and peace, to the enjoym.ent of a
v/orld which Thou hast made so beautiful, and
in which Thou hast allotted me such innumerable
mercies. I bless Thee for all the comforts of my
life ; for health and plenty, good parents, kind
relations, and kind friends ; I beg of Thee to
bless and reward them, and to make me dutiful
and grateful to them.

Under a sense of my own weakness, I beg the
assistance of thy Holy Spirit, to enable me to
resist the dangerous tcmptationsj and bad exam-
ples of the world, the wrong dispositions of my
own heart and temper, and the snares of Satan.
I humbly beseech Thee to take my unexperienced
youth under thy protection. Keep me, 0 Lord,
from presumption and vanity : from idle dissipa-
tion, and extravagant expenses. Impress on.
my soul a constant regard to that awful account
of all my thoughts, words, and actions, which I
must give to Thee, at the dreadful day of judg-
ment. Grant me a firm persuasion, that all my
peace of mind here, and my happiness hereafter,
must depend on my improvement in piety and

ELIZABETH CARTER. 55B

in tlie duties of a Christian life. Teach me to
rely with perfect dependance upon Thee, who
alone knowest what is truly good for me ; and
dispose me to cheerful contentment, in ^vhateve^
condition Thou seest fit to place me.

I beseech Thee to guard me this day from
all danger, particularly from the greatest of all
evils, the doing any thing displeasing to Thee.
I humbly offer up all my petitions in the name,
and through the intercession, of my blessed
Saviour, who has taught m«, when I pray, to
say. Our Father, &c.

We shall close the memoir of this pious
and distinguished female, with an honourable
testimony to her talents and character, as well
as to those of Elizabeth Smith, selected from
one of the publications of the celebrated Hannah
More : —

" Against learning, against talents of any
kind, nothing can steady the head, unless you
fortify the heart with real Christianity. In
raising the moral edifice, we must sink deep in
proportion as we build high. We must widen
the foundation, if we extend the superstructure.
Eeligion alone can counteract the aspirings of

S56 ELIZABETH CARTEH-

genius, can regulate the pride of talents. An'T
yet such women as are disposed lo be vain of ihcir
comparatively petty attainments, look up wiiU
admiration to those contemporary shining exam-
ples, the venerable EHzabeth Carter, and the bloom-
ing Elizabeth Smith. I knew them both ; and
to know, was to revere them. In them let our
young ladies contemplate profound and various
learning, chastised by true Christian humility.
In them, let them venerate acquirements, which
would have been distinguislied in a univcrsil}'-,
meekly softened, and beaulihdly shaded, by
the gentle exertion of every domestic virtue ;
the unafi'ccted exercise of every fcmumie em-
ployment."

SECTION IX.
SIR WILLIAM JONES.

Sir William Jones, an eminent lawyer, and
most accomplished scholar, was born in London,
:ii the year 1746. He lost his father when he
was only three years of age ; and the care of his
education devolved on his mother, a woman of
uncommon mental endowments. She was very
solicitous to kindle in his young mind a love for
reading; which she effected, by constantly re-
plying''to those questions that a native ardour for
instruction incessantly prompted, "Read, and
you will know." This he did to a great extent,
at a very early period.

He was not one of those happy geniuses, (if
such there are,) who can make brilliant acqui-
shions without pains. It was, on the contrary,
by the most sedulous industry, and the renun-
ciation of the usual diversions of a school-boy,
joined with the natural gift of a very retentive
memory, that he was enabled to lay in those
ample stores of knowledge, by which he became so
highly distinguished.

358 SIR WILLIAM JONES.

In 1764, he was entered of University college
Oxford; and his excellent mother, who devoted
her time almost entirely to him, fixed her resi
dence in the same city. This affectionate and
judicious attention, must have preserved him
from many dangers, and was doubtless pro-
ductive of great comfort and advantage to him.
He ever regarded her with true filial afifection
and gratitude ; and the desire of reheving her
from the burden of his education, rendered a
fellowship in the college the great object of his
wishes. This soon fell into his possession, and
placed liim according to his own idea, in a state
of independence. He had the private tuition of
young Lord Althorpe, now Earl Spencer; with
whom he made a tour to the continent, by which
he was introduced into the most respectable com-
pany, and derived not only amusement, but much
mstruction.

As he was desirous of obtaining a station in
society adequate to his endowments, and by
which he might be, in no ordinary degree, useful
to his fellow-creatures, he chose the profession of
law, for the study of which he had acquired a
particular predilection. He entered at the Temple
in the year 1770; and four years afterwards he
was called to the Bar. He did not, however,
sacrifice to professional studies all those literary
pursuits, which had so delightfully occupied him.

«IR WILLIAM JONES. 359

■'•*s»

He published several volumes of poems, partly
translations from the poets of Asia, and a number
of critical dissertations ; which attracted the notice
and admiration of persons, both at home and
abroad, who were competent judges of the sub
jecls.

Tlie post of one of the judges in the English
territories of India, had long been a particular
object of his wishes, principally on account of
the opportunity it would afford him of gratifying
his ardent desire for oriental researches. And in
1783, he received the appointment of a judge of
the supreme court of judicature at Fort William, in
Bengal ; and at the same time the honour of knight-
hood was conferred upon him. About this period,
lie married a most amiable woman, whose cultiva-
ted mind and excellent heart, were finely -adapted
to his views and happiness. The field of action
and inquiry which opened to him in India, was
immense. He planned the ini=titution of a society
in Calcutta, similar to the Royal Society of
London ; and the labours and discoveries of this
institution have been very interesting and emi-
nently useful. For his extensive researches into
the history, laws, literature, and religion of India,
the world is greatly indebted to him ; and from
ihem the cause of Christianity has derived no
inconsiderable aid.

360 8IR WILLIAM JONES- '

This learned and excellent man was, in llie
prime of bis days, and when apparei>lly in good
health, seized wiih a disorder which, in about
a week, put a period to bis valuable life. — His
biographer, Lord Teignmouth, observes, that "" the
progress of the complaint was uncommonly rapid,
and terminated fatally on the 27th of April, 1794.
On the moniing of that day, his attendants, alarmed
at the evident symptoms of approaching dissolution,
came precipitately to call the friend who has now
the mclancholv task of recording the mournful
event: not a moment was lost in repairing to his
house. He was lying on his bed in a posture of
meditation ; and the only symptom of remaining
life, was a small degree of motion in the heart,
which after a few seconds ceased, and he expired
without a pang or groan. His bodily suffering,
from the complacence of his features and the ease
of his attitude, could not have been severe ; and
his mind must Kave derived consolation from those
sources, where he had la^en in the habit of seekinrr
it, and where alone, in our l^st moments, it can
ever be found,"

When Sir William Jones was visited with his
last illness, he was in the 4Sth year of his ao-e,
possessing the full vigour of his mental powers,
and occupied with vast projects of literature, which
might have employed an active life protracted la

SIR WILLIAM JONES. 361

the utmost limits allotted to the human race. —
Few men have died more respected, or more
regretted, and few have passed a more useful and
irreproachable life. The vast extent of his
erudition has been displayed in his literary-
labours ; to which it may be added, that scarcely
any subject of human research escaped his notice.
Asa linguist, he has rarely, if ever, been equalled ;
for his list of languages compreliends, " eight
studied critically ; eight studied less perfectly,
but all intelligible with a dictionary ; and twelve
studied least perfectly, but all attainable." His
industry in acquiring elementary knowledge was
not, however, productive of dryness : taste and
elegance marked all his exertions. As a poet, he
would probably have risen to the first class, had
his ardour for transplanting foreign beauties,
allowed him leisure for the exercise of his own
invention. His private virtues were not inferior
to his intellectual endowments. As a son, a
husband, a friend, and a citizen, he fulfilled every
duty in an exemplary manner. His integi'ity in
the exercises of his judicial ofifice was above all
suspicion. He was totally free from pedantry, as
well as from that arrogance and self-sufficiency
which sometimes accompany and disgrace the
greatest abilities. His presence was the delight of
every society which his conversation exhilarated
and improved ; and his whole conduct bespoke a
manly and independent spirit. A rational and ex-

S62 SIR WaLLIAM JONES.

alted piety crowned the whole of his great attain
ments, and excellent qualities.

" The mind of Sir William Jones," says his
pious and elegant biographer, "was never tainted
with infidelity. But there was a period, before his
judgment was matured, and before he had studied
the Scriptures with close attention, when his belief
in the truth of Revelation was tinged with doubts.
But these were the transient clouds, which, for a
W'liile obscure the dawn, and disperse with the rising
sun. His heart and his judgment told him, that
religion is a subject of supreme importance, and the
evidence of its truth worthy of his most serious in
vestigation. He sat down to the inquiry without
prejudice, and rose from it with a conviction, w^hich
the studies of his future life invigorated and con-
firmed. The completion of the prophecies relating
to our Saviour, had impi-essed upon his 3^outhful
mind, this invaluable truth, that the language cf
Isaiah, and other prophets, was inspired ; and in
this belief, to which fresh proofs were progressively
added, he closed his life. He has, I trust, re-
ceived, through the merits of his Redeemer, the
reward of his faith.

" In matters of eternal concern, the authority
of the highest human opinions has no claim to be
admitted, as a ground of belief; but it may, with
the strictest propriety, be opposed to that of men

SIR WILLIAM JONES, 363

of inferior learning and penetration ; and whilst
the pious derive satisfaction from the perusal of
sentiments according Avith their own, those who
doubt or disbelieve, should be induced to weiffh,
with candour and impartiality, arguments which
have produced conviction in the minds of the
best, the wisest, and the most learned of man-
kind.

" Among such as have professed a steady
belief in the doctrine of Christianity, where sliall
greater names be found, than those of Bacon and
Newton ? Of the former, and of Locke, it may
be observed, that they were both innovators in
science : disdaining to follow the sages of antiquity
through the beaten paths of error, they broke
through prejudices which had long obstructed
the progress of sound knowledge, and they laid
the foundation of science on solid ground ; whilst
the genius of Newton led him to discoveries of
an amazing extent. These men. to their great
praise, and we may hope to their eternal hap-
piness, devoted much of their time to the study
of the Scriptures. If the evidence of Revelation
had been v/eak, who were better qualified to ex-
pose its unsoundness ? Why were minds which
boldly destroyed the prejudices in science, blind to
" ihose in religion ? They read, examined, weighed,
and believed ; and the same vigorous intellect,
that dispersed the mists which concealed the

364 SIR WILLIAM JONES.

temple of human knowledge, was itself illumi-
nated wiili the radiant trallis of Divine Revela-
tion. Such authorities, and let me now subjoin
to them the name of Sir William Jones, are de
servedly entitled to great estimation.

" In some of his papers, containing a delinea-
tion of his daily occupations, I find a portion of
his lime allotted to the perusal of the Scriptures.
And I am authorized to add, not o?ilv from what
appears in his printed works and private me-
moranda, but from particular and salisfactory
testimony, that the wrilinss of our best divines en-
gaged a large share of his attention ; and that pri-
vate devotion was not neglected by him. The
following lines, which afford a proof both of his
taste and piety, were written by him in the
year 1786, after a perusal of the eighth sermon of
Barrow : —

^ ' As meadows parch'd, brown groves, and wither-
ing flow'rs,
Imbibe the sparkling dew and genial show'rs;
As chill dark air inhales the morning b;fam;
As diirsty hearts enjoy the gelid stream;
Thus to man's grateful soul from heav'n descend,
The mercies of his Father, Lord, and Friend.'"

Sir William Jones, in his Bible, wrote the fol-
lowing note ; which coming from a man of his pro-

SIR WILLIAM JONES. 365

found erudition, and perfect knowledge of the
Oriental languages, customs, and manners, must
be considered as a powerful testimony, not only to
the sublimity, but to the Divine Inspiration, of the
Sacred Scriptures : —

" I have, " says he, " carefully and regularly
perused these Holy Scriptures ; and am of opinion,
that the volume, independently of its Divine origin,
contains more sublimity, purer morality, more im-
portant history, and finer strains of eloquence, than
can be collected from all other books, in whatever
)anguage they may have been written."

As religion was the subject of his meditations in
health, it was more forcibly impressed upon his
mind during illness. He knew the duty of resig-
nation to the will of his Maker, and of dependance
on the merits of a Redeemer. These sentiments
are expressed in a short prayer, which he composed
during his indisposition in 1784; and which is in
the following words : —

" O thou Bestower of all good ! if it please thee
to continue my easy tasks in this hfe, grant me
strength to perform them as a faithful servant :
but if thy wisdom hath willed to end them by this
thy visitation, admit me, not weighing my un-
worlhiness, but through thy mercy declared in
Christ, into thy heavenly mansions, that I may con-

31'

366 SIR WILLIAM JONES.

linually advance in happiness, by advancing in true
knowledge and awful love of ihee. Thy will be
done !"

Another short orayer, composed by liim, on
waking one mon.ing at sea during the voyage to
India, is worthy of insertion : —

" Graciously accept our thanks, thou Giver of
all gcod, for having preserved us another night,
and bestowed on us another day. O, grant that
on this day, we may meditate on thy law with joy-
ful veneration ; and keep it in all our actions, with
fn-m obedience."

Amongst the papers written by tlu's truly ex-
cellent man, was a prayer, composed by him on
the first day of the year 1782, about twelve years
before his death. It is evidently the effusion of a
pious mind, deeply impressed with an awful sense
of the infinite wisdom, power, and benevolence of
his Creator ; and of the ignorance, weakness, and
depravily of human nature. It contains sublime
views of the Divine attributes ; and the most
humble dependance on God, for light and abili-
ty to serve him acceptably. Tlie following passa-
ges are selected from this solemn and devout com-
pocition : —

Eternal and incomprehensible Mind, who, by

BIR WILLIAM JONES, 367

thy boundless power, before time began, createdst
innumerable worlds for thy glory, and innumerable
orders of beings for their happiness, which thy
inlinite goodness prompted thee to desire, and
thy infinite wisdom enabled thee to know ! we,
thy creatures, vanish into nothing before thy
supreme Majesty. To thy power we humbly
submit ; of thy goodness we devoutly implore pro-
tection ; on thy v^'isdom we firmly and cheerfuj'y
rely. Irradiate our minds with all useful truth ;
instil into our hearts a spirit of general benevo-
lence ; give understanding to the foolish ; meekness
to the proud ; temperance to the dissolute ; forti-
tude to the feeble-hearted ; hope to the desponding ;
faith to the unbelieving ; diligence to the sloth-
f lU ; patience to those who are in pain; and thy
celestial aid to those wdio are in danger ; comfort
the afHictcd ; relieve the distressed ; supply the
I'Ungry with salutary food, and the thirsty with a
plentiful stream. Impute not our doubts to in-
difference, nor our slowness of belief to hardness
of heart ; but be indulgent to our imperfect nature,
and supply our imperfections by thy heavenly fa-
vour. Whenever we address thee in our retire-
ment from the vanities of the world, if our prayers
are foolish, pity us ; if presumptuous, pardon us ;
if acceptable to thee, grant them, all-powerfnl
God, grant them ! And as, with our living voice,
and with our dying lips, we will express our sub-
mission to thy decrees, adore thy providence, and

368 SIR WILLIAM JONES.

bless thy dispensations ; so, in all future slates,
to which we reverently hope tliy goodness will
raise us, grant that we may continue praising, ad-
njiring, venerating, worshipping thee more and
more, through worlds without number, and ages
without end."

CONCLUSION.

The Reader, before he closes this volume, will
naturally pause, and encourage reflections adapted
to the subject. — He has been presented with the
testimonies and experience of a number of his
fellow-creatures, of diff'erent periods, countries,
professions, and situations in life. He has found
th.em all uniting in their attestation to the power
and excellence of true religion, as our surest
guide and consolation through time, and the only
means of securing eternal happiness. This solemn
and concurrent testimony is of great importance.
Much of it proceeds from some of the most eminent
persons that have ever appeared in the world,
whether we consider their station, their abilities, or
llieir virtue. It is on a subject of the most interest-
ing nature : and claims our serious and reverent
attention, as the sentiments of men, who were too
much enlightened to be deceived themselves, and
too deeply affected, as well as too virtuous, to de-
ceive others. The}^ expressed their genuine feel-
ings, and their unbiased views of things, at the
most awful period of hfe.

370 CONCLUSION.

Some of the persons mentioned in these me
moirs seem not to have been deeply impressed
with religious considerations, till near the termi-
nation of their days : they had then to lament the
misapplication of their time, and the delay of the
great work for which they were brought into ex-
istence.— Others appear to have made an early, or
more seasonable choice of virtue and goodnesv
for their portion ; and to have spent a great part of
their lives in the fear and love of God, and in do
ing good to mankind. They enjoyed that peace
of mind which the world could neither give nor
take away : and a cheering well-grounded hope ac-
companied them to the closing scene, that there
was reserved for them a crown of immortal honour.
What an evidence on behalf of piety and virtue !
What a dissuasive from vice and folly ! And how
animating to weary travellers, to persevere in the
paths of goodness, and to keep their eyes fixed on
that happy country, where they too shall rest for
ever from all their labours !

But we live in a world of danger and tempta-
tion. Propensities to evil are powerful. The
riches, honours, and pleasures of life, are con-
tinually alluring us to an immoderate love ar.d
pursuit of them. The subtle enemy of all gjod
is perpetually on the watch, to avail himself of
our weakness and exposure, and to ensnare and
destroy us. Our safety, therefore, consists m

CONCLUSION. 371

being always on our guard and in steadfastly
resisting every approach of evil.

But Vv^ho is sufficient for these thinirs ? In this
situation, how shall we preserve our innocence,
maintain the warfare, and finally become victo-
Tious ? — There is not a more evident and im-
portant truth, than that the power of accomplish-
ing these gTcat ends of life, is not of ourselves.
It proceeds from the grace of God ; unto whom
^ve are directed to apply daily, for preservation
in temptation, and deliverance from evil. The
perusal of valuable books, reflection, conversa-
tion, and other means of moral and intellectual
improvement, are indeed of great use and im-
portance. Besides enlarging the mind, and pro-
moting our temporal comfort and advantage,
they may spread before us a pleasing view of the
beauty and excellonce of religion ; and may
occasion some desires for the possession of that
happine&s which it confers : but unless the divine
AID be sought for and superadded, they will not
be able to produce that strength of resolution,
and steady perseverance, which are necessary to
crown our labours with success. Interest, pas-
sion, depraved inclination, and the love of tlie
world, in constant operation, are too powerful
to be controlled, by slight and temporary con-
victions of mind, or feeble and transient wishes
of the heart.

372 CONCLUSION.

May we, therefore, never rest satisfied with
clear apprehensions of our duty, just sentinncnts
of the beauty and excellence of Religion, and
frequent desires to become its disciples, and to
partake of its felicity! May we be earneslly and
steadfastly concerned to apply, through the Re
deemer of mankind, to the Giver of all good, for
the assistance of his Holy Spirit, as the only power
which can sanctify and render effectual our en-
deavours to please him, and produce in us the
highest perfection of our nature !

He that formed our spirits, who is constantly
present with us, and without whose superintend-
ence not a sparrow falls to the ground, knows all
our wants and frailties ; and is not only able, but
abundantly disposed, to grant all our humble and
pious requests, and to give us every necessary
support and comfort. " Ask, and it shall be
given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and
it shall be opened unto you." Let us not, there-
fore, be dismayed by the perils of onr situation,
whatever they may be, or by the fecblencijs of onr
powers. With humble confidence, let us implore
the God of love and nicrcy, to (orgivc all our of-
fences ; to conduct us safely through the present
life ; and to prepare us for a happy iramortality

ALPHABETICAL INDEX.

rage.

Addison, Joseph - - - - - - - 216

Altamont ---•--.-- 294
Althens, Margaret ---••-- 320

Bacon, Lord Chancellor . - • - - - 92
Baynard,Ann .--•••• 220

Beattie, James Hay ..--••- 332
Beaufort, Ca.M.nal .•-..-• 42

Bede, the Venerable --••-•-35
Benezet, Anthony --,-•-- 282
Boerhaave, Herman .•-••-- 212
Borgia, Cacaar .... - - - 44

Boyle, Robert 167

Bretterg, Catharine - - - •- - -104
Burnet, Bishop -•-••••- 190

Carter, Elizabeth -.---•-843

Charles V. Emperor of Gennsny ----- 49
Confucius ---••-•-• 11

Cyrus --••-••--•8

Doddridge, DoctOf .---•-•• *8S
Donne, Doctor .----- 100

874 INDEX.

Elizabeth, Princess of the Rhine « - - - - 143
Eugcnius, Fope ---- ••- 41

Gardiner, Colonel -.-•••-- 232

Gilpin, Bernard ----••-• 54

Grey, Lady Jane ---••••-71
Grotius, Hugo --•-•••- 109

llalc. Sir Matthew -•••--- 128
Ilaller Baroa 299

ilanvvay, Jonas -------- 276

Harrington, Lord - - - - - - - -118

Hastings, T«idy Elizabeth ------ 244

Hatton, Sir Christoi)hcr -------90

Ilcrvcy, James ---•-•-- 286
Hooker. Richard --------83

(lousinan. H. 249

Howi.:.!, John --••••- 306

I
Ignatius .-•••-••-81

Jane, Queen of Navarre -•-•---67
Janeway, John --••-••- 167
Jcnyns, Soame ---••--- 262

Job 1

Jones, Sir William -.--.-- 857

Locke, John ----••-- 163

Ix)ub IX. King of France ------ 88

Lyttelton, Lord 273

INDEX. 375

Marlborough, Earl of------- 171

Mary, Quetn of England ------- 205

Mason Sir John --•-•--- 47
Mazarine, Cardinal - - - - - - - -122

Mompesson, William ----•«- 146

Moulin, Peter Da ----.-»- 97

Newton, Sir Isaac --•-••-- 186

Newton, John --------313

Orleans, Duke of 239

Oienstiern, Chancellor of Swoien - - - • - 107

Pascal, Blaise «----■-- 151

Paul, the Apostle ------- 2(5

Penn, Admiral -------- 149

Philip III. King of Spain 102

Polycarp ---------33

Raleigh, Sir Walter - - r . . - - 77

RatclilTe, Jane ---- •-- 183

Renti, Du 141

Richelieu, Cardinal - - - - - - 116

Rochester, Earl of- - - - - - - 195

Rowe, Elizabeth .-----, 222

Russel, Lady Rachel 174

Salmasius --------- 120

Schurman, Anna Maria ------ 126

376 INDEX.

Selden, John -*-----. 114

Sidney, Sir Philip 81

Smith, EHzabeth 337

Smith, Sir Thomas ----*-- 65

Socrates _.-«-••»•-!(
Solomon ----------4

Stephen, the protomartyr --••>>•• 2«

Walsingham, Sir Francis - - • • • ■ 6J
Watts, Doctor ------ - 22J

Whitelocke, Bulstrode ------ 12^

Woisey Cardmal ------ -4i

Wotton, Sir Henry ---«-•- 9(

RECOMMENDATIONS OF THIS WORK.

*' We have had frequent occasion to speak of the diligence, good
«ense, and good intentions, of Mr. Murraj'^ ; and v/e congratulate
tnm sincerely on the success of this parlictdar work. We announce
tliis edition, because the alterations and additions are so consider-
able, that it is rendered almost a new v/ork." — British Critic^
July, ISOl.

" The examples which Blr. Murray has here selected, and the
ludicious reflections which accompany them, are such as can
scarcely fail to make the best impressions, and to produce the best
effects, on all who read them with attention. The present edition
of this excellent pubhcation, which has been long known and com-
mended, is enlarged by the addition of twenty-two new characters,
fiUing nearly one hundred pages." — Anti- Jacobin Review, January.,
1S04.

""We have received the tenth and last edition of tliis valuable
work. The improvements made in it, will appear from the Author's
Advertisement. *We can only add to this account of the present
useful volume, our hope that it will be extensively circulated among
our countrymen." — The American Review and Literary Journal,
for July, August, and September, 1801.

** On reviewing this book, in its improved form, we find the facta
unquestionable and highly interesting — the style correct and neat— -
and the general tendency of the work such as induces us strongly
to recommend it, especially to young' readers ; who love entertain-
ment mingled v/ith instruction." — Evangelical Magazine, Octo-

r, ISOL

)^r.

"The rapid sale of this small but valuable collection, has antici-
pated the commendation we are desirous to bestow. In an exem-
plification of more than se-fe?^/?/ remarkable characters, many strildn^
examples are exhibited, which, in the quiet hour of reflection, may
contribute to arrest the careless and v/andering ; to animate the
Bincere and virtuous ; and to convince or discountenance those who
have been unhappily led to oppose the highest truths." — GenllCf
VKz/is M'.igazine, November, 1803.

©o *

578 RECOMMENDATIONS OF THIS WORK.

'* In an age like the present, when Infidehty seems to have thrown
away her mask, as no longer being ashamed to disclose her daring
front ; — when a laxity of morals prevails even among behevers, and
men stick not to insinuate that an indulgence in crimes expressly
forbidden by our holy religion, will find excuse in the eye of that
Being, who knows he formed us /'rail creatures ; — at such a season,
it is of the highest importance, to recur to the piety of those com-
paratively lew bright examples, who will b.e of singular efficacy to
excite in us a love of God and goodness.

" Mr. Murray, with much commendable zeal, has, in the volume
before us, provided the reader with an assemblage of vurtuous and
religious characters. The conduct of the greater part of them, at
the approach of death, affords a lesson which all are concerned to
learn — that 'the fear of the Lord' alone 'is wisdom,' and to depart
from evil ihe only 'understanding.' " — Critical Review, June, 1803.

" This judicious biographical selection is already too well known,
•to stand in need of our recommendation ; but wc nevertheless avail
ourselves of a corrected and augmented edition, to add our appro-
bation, to that which it has justly received from the most respecta-
ble classes of the public." — Eclectic Review, April, 1806.

" This work, which has been long and justly admired, has, in the
last edition, received many alterations and improvements ; and, in
its present enlarged state, forms, in our opinion, one of the best
books that can be put into the hands of young people." — Guardian
of Education, August, 1803.

•^That 'examples draw, where precepts fail,' is a truth which has
been acknowledged in all ages and nations ; and on the strength
of this principle, Mr. Murray has had recourse to experience, in
evincing the power and importance of rehgion. He has thus fur-
nished an interesthig collection of testimonies ; and we wonder not,
(hat a work so instructive and amusing, as well as impressive,
should have been generally patronised. It is a book which may be
read with profit, by persons in all situations : and with the rising
gtMieration, it may answer the double purpose, of improving them
m biography and in virtue."— Mon/Wy Review^ August, 1801

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Full text of "The power of religion on the mind, in retirement, affliction, and at the approach of death: exemplified in the testimonies and experience of persons distinguished by their greatness, learning, or virtue .."

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