CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF The Willers Family Cornell University Library The original of tiiis bool< is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029262247 Cornell University Library BR1703 .M98 1861 Power of religion on thie mind : in retir olin 3 1924 029 262 247 THE 7 POWER OF RELIGION ON THE MIND IN EETIEEMENT, AFFLIOTIOK, AND AT THE APPROACH OF DEATH; BXEKPLIPIED IN" THE TESTIMONIES AND EXPERIENCE OP PERSONS DISTINGUISHED BY THEIR GREATNESS, LEARNING, OR VIRTUE. 'Tis immortality, — 'tis that alone, Amidst Life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The aoul can comfort, elevate, and fill. — Yowng. BY LINDLEY MURRAY, AUTHOE OF AH" BNGLIBH GEAMMAB, &0., &0. NEW YORK: PEINTED BY OEDER Of THE TEUSTEES OF THE EESIDUAET ESTATE OF LINDLET MUEEAT. S. S & W. WOOD, 389 BROADWAY. 1861. VD ADYERTISEMENT. LiNDLET MuKKAT, 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 gTatuitous distribution of " Books calculated to promote piety and virtue and the truth of Christianity'' — and of which books he desired that "The Power of Rehgion on the Mind" might form a considerable part. New York, 1836, The Life of James G-ardiner has been omitted in this edition. INTEOPUCTIO'N. To excite serious reflections on the unsatisfying and transitory nature of temporal enjoyments ; and to pro- mote a lively concern for the attainment of that feli- city, which will be complete and permanent ; are the objects of the present publication. Piety and virtue, abstractedly considered, are truly amiable, and appear worthy of our earnest pursuit. But when recommended by the lives and testimonies of eminent persons, who have known the world, and experienced the emptiness of its honors, wealth, and pleasures, they derive additional importance ; and con- strain us to acknowledge, that the greatest happiness of man is to be found in religion. Among the most important blessings, which the Di- vine Being has conferred upon mankind, may be num- bered, the happy display of good and pious examples. In every age and country, perhaps in almost every little district throughout the earth, he has placed some of his faithful servants, or returning prodigals, to bear witness of his power and goodness, and to encourage others to a life of purity, piety, and beneficence. The following pages exhibit a few of those striking IV INTBODirCTION. examples. In the quiet hour of reflection, they may contribute to arrest the careless and wandering ; to animate the sincere and virtuous ; and to alarm those ■who have rejected the most important truths, and who contemn the restraints of religion and virtue. A number of our fellow-creatures, of different pe- riods, countries, and conditions in life, standing on the confines of mortality, and bearing a uniform and un- disguised testimony to the power and excellence of re- ligion, presents a solemn and interesting spectacle. With the prospect of immortality before them, and no longer influenced by those concerns and passions which obscure the 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 reflec- tions on the state of our own minds ; and produce a reverent application to our heavenly Father, for tbe aid of his Holy Spirit, to enlighten and strengthen us, and to conduct us safely through the paths of life ! May his gracious protection be afforded at the close of our day, when the shadows of the evening shall approach, the glittering vanities of the Avorld be obscured, and all its friendships and resources be found unavailing ! Trials and discouragements may, indeed, be expected to assaU us, in this state of being. — On surveying our past lives, we must all be conscious, that, in numerous instances, we have violated the Divine Law, and in- INTEODTTCTIOir. V curred tlie penalty due to our disobedience. And this view of our condition often occasions deep regret ; and is sometimes apt to overwlielm the drooping and diffi- dent mind. But whatever may have "been our deviations 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 favor, if we sincerely repent, and unfeignedly believe in Jesus Christ the Saviour of the world. 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 accomplish our salva- tion. "His tender mercies are over all his works." " He 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 our frame : he remembereth that we are dust." The blessed Re- deemer " came into the world to save sinners — to seek and to save that which was lost." And, to in- crease our gratitude and trust, he has graciously as- sured 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 confidence and joy. Though the love and mercies of God are great be- yond expression, yet, for wise purposes, his children VI INTRODUCTION. are not equally favored by him, on the bed of languish- ing and death. But they are all permitted to hope, that, when this awful period approaches. He will pre- serve them from being 'distressed with mournful retro- spects on the past, or with gloomy apprehensions of the future : that redeeming love will calm their fears and disquietudes ; sustain them under every conflict ; and animate them with the prospect of being soon ad- mitted into the mansions of eternal felicity. ADVERTISEMENT. In the latter editions of this work, the author has been solicitous to make it acceptable, not only to per- sons 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 recommend the Christian reli- gion in particular ; he indulges a hope, that instructors of youth will deem it a suitable book to be read, occa- sionally, by the higher classes of their pupils. It is of great importance to impress young minds with favor- able sentiments of virtue and goodness; and to con- vince them, by practical evidence, that religion affords the best support and enjoyment, in this life, and the only sure ground of happiness in the world to come. To render the performance more instructive, as well as more interesting, the author has introduced into it many important moral sentiments, and many reflections of a religious nature, as well as a considerable portion of useful, biographical information. The introductory narratives relative to the subjects of the work, will, he presumes, be found intimately connected with its chief design. They gratify curiosity, respecting the general character of the persons whose solemn sentiments are exhibited ; they confer additional importance on the testimonies in favor of religion ; and they relieve the mind from the effect, which a succession of deeply serious matter would occasion. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I, PAGB Job — Solomon — Cteus — Confuoius — Soceatbs — Ste- phen, THE Pbotomaetyh — The Apostle Paul — laNA- TIUS— POLYOAEP ThE VeNEEABLE BeDE— LoUIS IX. King of Feanoe — Pope EtraBNins — Caedinal Beau- FOET — C^SAB BOEftlA H CHAPTER II. Caeddtal "Wolset— Sie John Mason — Bmpeeoe Chaeles V. — Sie Thomas Smith — Beenaed Gilpin — Jane, Queen of Nataeee — Sm Pbanois "Walsingham — La- DT Jane Geet — Sie "Waltee Ealeigh — Riohaed Hooker •. 51 CHAPTER III. Seb Philip Sidney — Sie Gheistophee Hatton — Loed Bacon — Sie Henet "Wotton — Petee Df Moulin- — DocTOE Donne — Philip III. King op Spain — Catha- EiNE Bebttees — Ozenstieen, Chancellop of Sweden — Hugo Geotius — John Selden — Caedinal Richelieu — liOBD Haeeington — Salmasius 100 CHAPTER IV. Cardinal Mazaeine — Bulsteode Whitblockb — Anna Maeia Sohueman— Sie Matthew Hale — Du Benti — Peinobss Elizabeth — "William Mompbsson — Admieal Penn 133 1* PAGE Pascal — Eobest Boyle — John Locke — John Janbwat — ^EaEL of MARLBOEOtraH 162 CHAPTER VI. Ladt Rachel Russel — Jane Ratoliefe — Sie Isaac Newton — ^Bishop Subnet — John, Eael op Rochestee, 185 CHAPTER YII. QuBEN Maet— Heeman Boeehaatd — Joseph Addison — Ann Batnaed — Elizabeth Rowe — Doctob "Watts . . 216 CHAPTER VIII. Ladt Elizabeth Hastings — H. Housman — Dootoe Dod- DEIDGE 242 CHAPTER IX. Lotrrs, Duke oj Oeleans — Soame Jentns — Loed Ltt- telton — Jonas Hanwat — Anthony Bbnbzet — James Heetey — Altamont, oa the Death of the Libeetine, 257 CHAPTER X. teAROW Halleb — John Howaed — Ne-ss^ton's Letters— MAEGABET M. AlTHENS ZiMMEEMAN JaMES HAY Beattie — Elizabeth Sihth — Elizabejh Caetee^Sie "William Jones 296 Conclusion 363 Alphajjetioal Index 367 THE POWER OF RELIGION. CHAPTEE I. Job — Solomon — Cteus — • Confucius — Soorates — Stephen THE PEOTOMAETTB — THE APOSTLE PAUL — ISWATIUS — POLT- OABP — Louis 12. EjNff of Peance — Pope EuasNius — Cae- DINAL BbAUFOET — CiESAE BOEaiA. SECTION" I. THE PATBIAROH JOB. This venerable patriaroli was so eminent an instance of the power of religion on the mind, under the most trying aiHictions, that a short account of him may properly introduce these m.emoirs. 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 fariiily was numerous and flourishing; his own character was fair and blameless: yet this j)erson it pleased God to visit with extraordinary reverses of for- tune. He was robbed of his whole substance. 12 THEPATEIABCHJOB. 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 was 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 good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil ?" Though he forcibly felt the deplorable condition to which he was reduced, and most pathetically described and bewailed it, yet no doubt of divine goodness, no murmur against Providence, was suifered to rise in his mind. "In all this Job sinned not with his lips, nor charged God foolishly." THE PATEIAECH JOB. 13 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 twofold. 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 tlie most interesting and extraordinary oliaracters 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 deej) 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 wUl cast thee off for ever." This king having made a great and solemn offering to God, soon after his accession to the throne, the Lord was well pleased with his piety and zeal ; and desired him to " ask what he should give him." Humbled under the sense of the goodness of God to 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 honor, and length of days, he desired that God would bestow upon him wisdom and knowledge, that he might pru- SOLOMON. 15 dently and hapiDily 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 tmderstanding heart, and added riches and honor to the gift. Solomon was directed by God to build him a temj)le 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 ardor 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 rigl^t- 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 obtained all the means of pleasure ; but found him- self, in the end, greatly disappointed. The result of this search and experiment, he gives us, in these 16 SOLOMON. memorable lines : " I said to my heart, I will prove thee with mirth; therefore enjoy pleasure: and, u>ehold ! this also is vanity. I made great works, built houses, planted vineyards, made gardens Bfid orchards, and planted trees in them of all kinds of fruits. I procured servants and maidens ; I gathered silver and gold, and the peculiar treasure of kings. I obtained men and women eingers, 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 1 all was vanity and vexation of spirit." After this full persuasion, that real happiness was not to be found in sensual pleasure or worldly honors, 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 will sup- port us in that day, when we must make up our final account. " Fear God, and keep his command- ments. This is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every work into judgment, whether it be good or whether it be evil." " When we reflect," says Dr. Blair, " on the character of him who delivered these sentiments, we cannot but admit that they deserve a serious SOLOMOK. 17 and attentive examination. For they ai-e 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 prosperons prince, who had once given fall scope to his desires; who was thoroughly acquainted with life in its most flatter- ing scenes: and who now, reviewing aU that he had enjoyed, delivers to us the result of long ex- perience and tried wisdom. SECTION III. GYRUS. Cteits 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 Suj)reme Being for all the favors 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- ernments. He gave excellent instructions to both CYETJS. 19 of them. He observed, that the chief strength and support of the throne, were not vast extent of country, number of forces, nor immense riches, but just veneration toward God, good understanding between brethren, and the acquisition of true and faithful friends. "I conjure you, therefore," said he, "my dear children, in the name of Heaven, to respect and love one another, if you retain any desire to please me for the future. For I do not think you will judge me to have no existence, because you will not see me after my death. You have never yet seen my soul : you must, however, have known by its actions, that it really existed. Can you believe, that honors 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 while 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, anything contrary to rehgion and virtue. Next to him, fear mankind, and the ages to come. You cannot be buried in obscurity : you are exposed upon a grand theatre to the view of the world. If your actions are up- right and benevolent, be assured they will augment your power and glory. With regard to my body, 20 I CTHUS. my sons, when life has forsaken it, inclose it neither in gold nor silver, nor in any other matter what- ever. Restore it immediately to the earth." Perceiving himself to be at the point of death, he concluded with these words : " Adieu, dear children ! May your lives be happy ! Carry my last remembrance to your mother. And you, my faithful friends, those absent as well as those that are present, receive this last farewell! May you live in peace !" After he had said this, he covered his face and died, greatly lamented by the nations over whom he had reigned. SECTION IV. CONFU CIUS. 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 honored his relations ; he endeavored in aU things to imitate his grandfather, who was then alive in China, and a very pious man: and it was observable that he never eat anything, but he prostrated himself upon the ground, and offered it first to the Supreme Lord of heaven. One day, while he was a child, he heard his grandfather fetch a deep sigh ; and going up to him with much reverence, " May I presume," said he, " without losing the respect I owe you, to in- quire into the occasion of your grief? Perhaps you fear that your posterity wiU degenerate from your virtue, and dishonor 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 ?" 22 CONFUCIUS. " From yourself," replied Confucius : " I attend diligently to you every time you speak ; and I have often heard you say, that a son, who does not by his virtues support the glory of his ancestors, does not deserve to bear their name." At twenty-three years of age, when he had gained a considerable knowledge of antiquity, and acquainted himself with the laws and customs of his country, he projected a scheme for a general reformation of manners. Wisely persuaded that the people could not be happy, so long as avarice, ambition, voluptuousness, and false policy, reigned among them, he thought it incumbent upon him to recommend a severe morality ; and accordingly, he began to enforce temperance, justice, and other virtues; to inspire a contemj)t of riches, parade, and splendor ; 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 everywhere known, and as universally beloved : his extensive learning and great wisdom, soon made him known ; his integrity, and the splendor of his virtues, made him beloved. Kings woi-e governed by his counsels, and the people reverenced him as a saint. The good effects of his example and admonitions were, however, but temporary. He lived in times when rebellion, CONI-UCITIS. 23 wars, and tumults, raged throughout the empire. Men had little leisure, and less inclination, to listen to his philosophy ; for, as we have observed, they were ambitious, avaricious, and voluptuous. Hence he often met with ill treatment and reproachful language; and it is said that conspiracies were formed against his life: to which may be added, that his neglect of his own pecuniary 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 deserts, think- ing that happiness could nowhere be found but in seclusion from society. In vain they endeavored to persuade Confucius to follow 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 vii'tue are all things. If mankind would but embrace it, and submit them- selves to its discipline and laws, they would not want me or anybody else to instruct them. It is the duty of a teacher first to perfect himself, and then to perfect others. Human nature came to us from Heaven pure and without defect; but in pro- cess of time, ignorance, the passions, and evil exam- ples corrupted it. Reformation consists in restoring it to its primitive beauties : to be perfect, we must reascend to the point from which we have fallen. Let us obey Heaven. Let our reason, and not our 24 CONFUCIUS. senses, be the rule of our conduct : for reason will teach us to think wisely, to speak prudently, and to behave ourselves worthily upon all occasions." Confucius did not cease to travel about, and do all the good in his power. He gained many dis- ciples, who became strongly attached both to liis person and his doctrine. These he sent into diifer- ent parts of the empire, to promote reformation of manners among the people. All his instructions were enforced by his own example. He was re- markable for his gravity and sobriety, his rigorous abstinence, his contempt of riches, and what are commonly called the goods of this life ; for his con- tinual attention and watchfulness over his actions ; and, above all, for his unaffected modesty and hu- mility. He is said to have lived three years in retire- ment ; and to have spent the latter part of his life in sorrow. A few days before his last illness, he told his disciples, witli tears in his eyes, that he was overcome with grief at the sight of the disorders which prevailed in the empire: "The mountain," said he, " is fallen : the high machine is demolished, and the sages are all fled." His meaning was, that the edifice of perfection, which he had endeavored to raise, was entirely overthrown. He began to languish from that time ; and a few days before his death expressed himself thus: "The kings reject my maxims ; and since I am no longer useful on the earth, I ought not to regret leaving CONFTTCItrS. 25 it." After these words he fell into a lethargy; and, at the end of seven days, expired in the arms of his disciples, 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 refraiii from tears ; " God is not satisfied with me," cried he, " since he has taken away Confucius." Wise and good men are indeed precious gifts, with which Heaven blesses the earth ; and their worth is seldom justly appreciated till after their decease. Confucius was lamented by the whole empire. He was honored as a saint; and so high a veneration was entertained for his memory, that it will scarcely ever be efiaced in those parts of the world. SECTIOlsr V. SOORATES. SocEATES, the greatest of tlie ancient lieathen 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 extraordinary 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 char- acter of a good citizen, a true philosopher, 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 favorite maxim was, " Whatever is above us, does not concern us." Hia great object in all his conferences and dis- courses, was, to lead men into an acquaintance with themselves ; to convince them of their errors; to inspire them with the love of virtue ; and to SOCBATBS. 27 furnish them with useful moval instructions. In these benevolent labors he was indefatigable. He communicated his instructions not only when he was in the chair, and at set hours of discourse, but even in his amusements ; when he was at his meals ; in the camp or market ; and, finally, when he was in prison : thus making every place a school of virtue. Through his whole life, this good man discovered a mind superior to the attractions of wealth and power. Contrary to the general practice of the preceptors of his time, he instructed his pupils, without receiving from them any gratuity. He frequently refused rich presents. The chief men of Athens were his stewards : they sent him jDro- visions, as they apprehended he wanted them. He took what his present necessities required, and re- turned the rest. Observing at a particular time, the numerous articles of luxury which were ex- posed 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 reverse of his own. ' He was maliciously accused of corrupt- ing the youth, and of despising religion, and was, with singular injustice, condemned to die. Before the trial, his chief accuser sent him a private mes- sage, assuring him that if he would desist from censuring his conduct, the accusation should be 28 SOCEATES. withdrawn. But Socrates refused to comply with so degrading a condition ; and, with liis usual in- tegrity, replied : " Whilst I live I will never dis- guise 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 contin- ually before him, he .did not cease to enjoy that profound tranquillity of mind which his friends had always admired in him. He entertained them with the same cheerful temper which he had ever mani- fested : and Crito observes, that the evening before his death, he slept as peacefully as at any other time. On the day assigned for him to die, his friends repaired early to the prison. They found him, with his chains off, sitting by his wife, who held one of iis 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 lamentations, requested that she might be conducted home. With the raost frantic expressions of grief she left the prison. An interesting conversation then passed between Socrates and his friends, which chiefly turned upon the immortality of the soul. In the course of this conversation, he expressed his disapprobation of the practice of suicide ; and assured his friends SOCEATES. 29 that his chief support, in his present situation, was an expectation, though not unmixed with doubt, of a happy existence after death. "It would be inexcusable in me," said he, " to despise death, if I were not persuaded that it will conduct me into the presence of the gods, who are the most right- eous 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 meantime, 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 soli- tary state of orphans. After a short interval, dur- ing which he gave some necessary instructions to his domestics, and took his last leave of his chil- dren, the attendant of the prison informed him that the time for drinking the poison was come. The executioner, though accustomed to such scenes, shed tears as he presented the fatal cup. Socrates received it without change of countenance, or the least degree of perturbation. Then oifering up a prayer, that he might have a prosperous pas- sage into the invisible world, with perfect com- posure he swallowed the poisonous draught. His friends around him burst into tears. Socrates alone remained unmoved. He upbraided their pusillani- 30 SOCEATBS. mity, and entreated them to exercise a manly con- stancy, worthy of the friends of virtue. "What are you doing?" said he to them: "I wonder at you. O ! what has become of your vir- tue ? was it not for fear of their falling into these weaknesses that I sent away the women ? I have always heard that we ought to die 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 j)eople of Athens perceived their injustice, and began to repent of it. Their hatred being satisfied, their prejudices removed, and time having given them an opportunity for re- flection, the notorious iniquity of the sentence ap- peared in all its horrors. Nothing was heard, throughout the city, but discourses in favor of So- crates. 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 honor their parents. In this place, he gave us his SOCEATES. 81 admirable lessons, and sometimes made us season- able reproaches, to engage us more warmly in the pursuit of virtue. Alas! how have we rewarded him for those important services !" Athens was in universal mourning and 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 grati- tude of the Athenians towards this excellent man rose to the highest degree of veneration. Manx other instances might have been given, of heathens, who, by their actions and discourses, ap- pear to have been under the influence of religion ; but, in paganism, we find light so mixed with dark- ness, religion and truth so blended with supersti- tion and error, that the minds of Christians will be legs edified by examples of this kind, than by those which exhibit piety and virtue, enlightened by the rays of the gospel, and animated by the assurance it gives of a happy immortality : we shall therefore confine ourselves, in the succeeding pages of this work, to instances of the power of religion on the minds of persons who have lived under the Chris- tian 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 32 SOCBATES. in heart of every age and every country. All man- kind are, indeed the children of one beneficent Parent, who will judge them by the degree of light, and the law, which it has pleased him to aiford them. But whilst we indulge this charitable sen- timent, it behooves us who, as Chi'istians, are dis- tinguished by pre-eminent advantages, to improve them faithfully, to the honor of the Great Giver, the good of mankind, and the edification of our own souls. SECTION VI. STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYK. This excellent man lived in the Apostolic age ; and was remarkable for his faith, his wisdom, and an eminent portion of the Holy Spirit, which it had pleased God to bestow upon him. Devoted to the service of his Divine Master, and anxious to pro- mote the eternal happiness of men, he labored fer- vently to extend the belief, and the blessings of the Gospel. These endeavors were rendered successful by the support of his Lord ; who enabled 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 opjjosition 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 sub- orned witnesses to declare falsehoods, and to charge him with blasphemy, before the council. On this occasion, his innocence, and the sustaining power of his Lord and Master, were eminently conspicu- 2* 34 STEPHEN THE PBOTOMAETTE. ous; 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 es- poused. 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 Lawgiver ; and concluded with observing, that they themselves had been the betrayers and murderers of the Just One, the Lord and Saviour of the world. This faithful remonstrance, instead of affecting them with humiliation and sorrow, for their heinous transgression, excited the bitterest resentment against this firm and zealous Christian. "They were cut to the heart, and gnashed on him with their teeth." At this moment, Stephen was animated by an extraordinary interposition of Divine power. "Pull 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 council 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." STEPHEN THE PEOTOMAETYB. 35 Whilst they were employed in this raurderoua deed, the faith of Stephen, remained unshaken. " He called upon God, and said, ' Lord Jesns, re- ceive 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 religion of Christ, over the passions of hu- man nature, and the malevolence of evil spirits! SECTION VII. THE APOSTLE PAUL. This eminent apostle is supiDosed to have been born about two years before our Saviour. He was a native of Tarsus, in Cilicia, and a Pharisee by profession. The strong powers of mind which he possessed, were greatly improved by education. His parents sent him early to Jerusalem, where he studied the law, at the feet of Gamaliel, a doctor of high reputation ; under whose directions he made a great progress in his studies ; and afterwards be- «eame very zealous for a strict observance of the law of Ii^oses. 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 Syna- gogues; 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 ajopearance of that gracious Being, whose religion he wished to extir- THE APOSTLE PAUL, 37 pate ; and who addressed him in these alarming ex- pressions: "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, what wouldst thou have me to do?" Prom this period, he became sincerely and ear- nestly devoted to the service of his Divine Redeem- er ; who, in his unsearchable wisdom and mercy, made him an eminent insti-ument in establishing his church among the Gentiles. The same zealous and ardent temper by which he had been distinguished when attached to Judaism, being now influenced and directed by Divine grace, was entirely con- verted to the holy purpose of propagating the gos- pel of peace and salvation. In this most benevolent work, he was indefatiga- ble. No labor 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 honor of being employed in his service, Paul devoted all his powers, and made every sacri- fice, to promote the blessed cause in which he had engaged. He thought that he could never suffici- ently serve a Master, who had been so gracious and bountiful to him. The enmity of his open and secret opposers, the various distresses and afflictions he encountered, ; erved only to increase the ardor of his pious pur- 33 THE APOSTLB PAUL. suits. The strong feith with which he was endued, raised him above all temjporal considerations. "We are (said he) troubled on every side, yet not dis- tressed ; we are perplexed, but not in despair ; per- secuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroyed." — " I am filled with comfort, I am ex- ceedingly joyful in all our tribulation." Supported by Divine Grace and future prospects, he seems to have considered all the labors and sor- rows of this life, but as a drop of the ocean, as a gi'ain of sand on the seashore, compared with that exalted state of happiness which awaited him, and which would last for ever. " Our light af9.iction, (says he,) which is but for a moment, woi-keth for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." The life and writings of this distinguised 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 Christianity, and an ample detail of its precepts. They have been read, with comfort and edification, by the truly pious, in every age of the Christian church. The nature and design of this work, will not allow us to recite many of the interesting occui-- rences in the life of this Apostle. We have, how- ever, in addition to those already mentioned, se- lected the following, as striking proofs of the power of religion on his mind. THE APOSTLE PAUL. 89 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 encomater the ut- most violence of his enemies. Just before he set sail, he called together the elders of his favorite church at Ephesus, and, in a pathetic sjseech, which does great honor to his character, gave them his last farewell. Deeply aifected by their knowledge of the certain dangers to which he was exposing himself, the whole assembly was filled with distress, and melted into tears. The circumstances were such as might have conveyed dejection, even into a resolute mind ; and would have totally overwhelmed the feeble. "They all wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck, and kissed him ; sorrowing most of all for the words which he spoke, that they should see his face no more." What were then the sentiments, what was the reply of this faithful servant of God ? His firm and undaunted mind expressed itself in these words: " Behold, I go bound in the spirit, to Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there ; save that the Holy Spirit witnesseth in every city, saying, that bonds and afilictions abide me. But none of these things move me ; neither count I my life dear to myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of God." Here we perceive the language, and the spirit, of 40 THE APOSTLE PAUL; 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 behavior of the Apos- tle, 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 a 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 mo- ment overbalance ? 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 exist- ence, arnidst cares and anxieties, and even amidst the honors and enjoyments of the world? SECTION VIII. ION ATIUS. Ignatius, one of the ancient fathers of the church, was born in Syria, and brought U2) under the care of the Apostle John. About the year 67, he be- came bishop of Antioch. In tliis important station, he continued above forty years, both an honor and a safeguard to the Christian religion ; undaunted in the midst of "very tempestuous 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 from a course of piety and virtue, by the fear of any temporal evils whatever ; to op- pose only meekness to anger, humility to boasting, and prayers to curses and reproaches. This excellent man was selected by the emperor Trajan, as a subject whose sufferings might be proper to inspire terror and discouragement in the hearts of the Christians at Rome. He was con- demned to die for his faith in Christ; and or- dered to be thrown amongst wild beasts, to be de- voured by them. This cruel sentence, far from weakening his attachment to the great cause he 42 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 honor me with thy love ; and hast thought me worthy, with thy apostle Paul, to be bound in chains." On his passage to Rome, he wrote a letter to his fellow Christians there, to prepare them to acquiesce 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 re- ward 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 Christian forti- tude, he met the wild beasts assigned for his de- struction, and triumphed in death. SECTION IX. POLYCARP. PoLYCAEP, an eminent Christian fathei', was born in the reign of ilSTero. Ignatius recommended the church at Antioch to the care and superintendence of this zealous father ; who appears to have been unwearied in his endeavors 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 leY, the distinguished character of Poly- carp attracted the attention of the enemies of Christianity. The general outcry was, " Let Poly- carp be sought for." When he was taken before the proconsul, he was solicited to reproach Christ, and save his life : but, with a holy indignation, 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 Sa- viour ?" 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 me 44 POLYCAKP. patience to abide in it, without being fastened with nails." Part of his last prayer, at his death, was as fol- lows : " O God, the father of thy beloved son, Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the know- ledge of thyseli ; 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 maityrs. 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. I praise and adore thee, through thy beloved Son, to whom, with thee, and thy Holy Spirit, be all honor 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 neighborhood of Weremouth, in the bishopric of Durham. Losing both his pa- rents at the age of seven years, he was, by his rela- tions, 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 deacon, in the nineteenth, and presbyter, in the thirtieth year of his age. He applied himself entirely to the study of the Holy Scriptures, the instruction of disciples, the offices of public worship, and the composition of religious and literary works. He wrote on all the br-anches of knowledge then cultivated in Europe. In Greek and Hebrew 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- 46 THBVENBEABLBBBDB. tures is to be acquired, he united with his studies regular prayer to God, that he would bless and sanctify them. Perhaps no person of his time acquired so distin- guished and widelj'-extended a reputation, as Bede ; a reputation too, entirely founded on the worth of his character, and the extent of his learning. The Roman Pontiff respected him so highly, that he gave him a cordial invitation to the metropolis of the church : but this he thought proper to decline. In the eyes of Bede the great world had no charms. Of his numerous and important writings, the greatest and most popular was, his "English Ec- clesiastical 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 trans- lated it from the original Latin, into the Saxon lan- guage ; and, by this means, increased its celebrity. The various merits of Bede acquire additional lustre, from the general ignorance and corruptions of the time in which he lived. Notwithstanding this disadvantage, he appears to have been a man of eminent virtue ; and to have j^ossessed the happy association of learning with modesty, of de- votion with hberality, and high reputation in the church with humility and moderation. In the last sickness of this pious and learned man, he was afQicted with a difficulty of breathing, which continued about two weeks. His mind was THE VENEEABLE BEDE. 47 however, serene and cheerful ; his aifeotions were heavenly ; and amidst all his infirmities, he con- tinued daily to instruct his disciples. At this pe- riod, a great part of the night was spent in prayer and thanksgiving ; and the first employment of the iriorning 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 re- ligious 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 with great composure and satisfaction. " If my Maker please, (said he,) who formed me out of nothing, I am willing to leave the world, and go to him." — "My soul desires to see Christ, my king, in his beauty." He then, with pious elevation of mind, sung, " glory to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit ;" and expired with such tranquillity and devotion, as greatly affected aU who saw and heard him. SECTIOlSr XI. LOUIS IX., KINQ OF FRANCE. Louis IX., styled St. Louis, succeeded to the crown of France, in the year 1226. This king pos- sessed great wisdom, piety, and virtue. His repu- tation for candor and justice was so great, that the barons of England, as well as king Henry III. consented to make him umpire of the differences which subsisted between them. Fenelon says of this patriotic prince : " He was distinguished by the nobleness of his sentiments : he was without haughtiness, presumption, or severity. 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 presei'ved 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 religious instruction. He often related to them the punishments which the pride, the avarice, LOUIS IX., KING OF FEANCE. 49 and the debauchery of princes, brought upon them- selves and their people. In his last sickness, he earnestly exhorted Philip, his son and successor, firmly to adhere to religion, in his own private life and conduct, and zealously to promote it among his subjects. He also strongly recommended to him justice, moderation, and all the virtues becoming a sovereign and a Christian. He strictly enjoined him never to suifer any one, in his presence, to speak disrespectfully of the Al- mighty, 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 your means, and that we may be with him after tbis life, and praise him eternally." His dying advice to his daughter Isabella, queen of ISTavarre, was also very expressive of nis zeal for the cause of religion, and his solicitude for the welfare of his children. He wrote to her as fol- lows : "My dear daughter, I conjure you to love oui- Lord with all your might ; for this is the foun- dation 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 deliv- ered him over to death for our salvation. If you love him, my daughter, the advantage will be yours ; and be assured that you can never love and 3 50 LOUIS IX., KING 01? FKANOB. serve him too much. He has well deserved that ■vve should love him ; for he first loved us. I wish you could comprehend what the Son of God has done for our redemj)tion. " 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 plea- sure in hearing God reverently spoken of, both in sermons and in private conversation. Shun too familiar discourse, except with very virtuous per- sons. Obey, my daughter, your husband, your father, and your mother, in the Lord : you are bound to do so, both for their sakes, and for the sake of him who has commanded it. In what is contrary to the glory of God, you owe obedience to none. " Endeavor, my daughter, to be an example of goodness to all who may see you, and to all who may hear of you. Be not too nice about dress : if you have too many clothes, give them away in charity. Beware also of having an exo'essive 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 tranquillity, in the year IS'TO. SECTION XII. POPE EUOBNIUS. Gabeiel Gondelmeeius was raised to the Papal throne in the year 1431 ; and took the name of Eugenius IV. From, a low condition of life, and through various gradations of office, he ascended to this dignity. Being much averse to a reformation of doctrine and manners, he met with great oppo- sition from some of the clergy ; but being of a de- termined spirit, he encountered every danger, rather than yield to his opponents. He was often reduced to painful and mortifying situations, and expe- rienced 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 jDossessed in an humble and retired situation. Being attended by a company of monks, he turned his face towards them, and said, with a voice, interrupted by sighs: " Oh Gabriel ! how much better would it have 52 POPE EUGENIUS. 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 monas- tery !" SECTION" XIII. CARDINAL BEAUFORT. Caedinai Bbaupoet was of royal extraction, the son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster ; and was commonly called the rich cardinal of Win- chester. 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 remem.branoe of thee, to a man who is at ease in his possessions !" Of the truth of this sentiment, we have a remarkable proof, in the last moments of this ambitious cardinal. When he was arrested in the midst of his career, and the terrors of death were marshalled in horrid array before him, he thus complained, and vented his afflicted soul to his weeping friends around him : " And must I then die ? Will not all my riches save me ? I could purchase the kingdom, if that would prolong my life. Alas ! there is no bribing death. When my nephew, the duke of Bedford 54 CABDINAL BEAUFOBT. died, I thought my happiness, and my authority greatly increased : but the duke of Gloucester's death raised me in fancy to a level with kings ; and I thought of nothing but accumulating still greater wealth, to enable me, at length, to purchase the triple crown. Alas ! how are my hopes disap- pointed ! 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. O .^ S A K BOKOIA. Cjssae Bokgia, a natural son of Pope Alexan- der VI., was a man of such conduct and character, 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 car- dinal ; but as this office imposed some restraints upon him, he soon determined to resign it, that he might have the greater scope for practising the excesses to which his natural ambition and cruelty- prompted him ; for cruel, as well as ambitious, he was in the highest degree. After this, he was made duke of Valentinois, by Louis XII. of France. He experienced a variety of fortune ; but displayed, on every occasion, the most consummate dexterity and finesse, and seemed jDrepared for all events.' The reflections he made a short time before his death, (which happened in the year 150Y,) show-, however, that his policy was confined to the concerns of this life ; and that he had not acted upon that wise and enlarged view 56 C JES AE BOKGIA. of things, which becomes a being destined for im- mortality. "I had provided," said he, "in the com-se of my life, for every thing, except death ; and now, alas ! I am to die, although entirely un- prepared." CHAPTER II. CAEDmAL "WoLSET— Sir John Mason— Empeeoe Chaeles V. — SiE Thomas Smith — Beenaed G-ilpin — J awe, Queen of Nataeee — Sie Peanois ■Walsinqham: — Lady Jane Geet — Sir Walter Raleish — Richaed Hooker. SECTION I. CARDINAL W^OLSEY. Thomas Wolsbt, a distinguished person in the reign of Henry VIII., was born in the year 1471 ; and it is said he was the son of a butcher at Ips- wich. Being made chaplain to the king, he had great opportunities of gaining his favor ; to obtain which he practised all the arts of obsequiousness. Having gradually acquired an entire ascendency over the mind of Henry, he successively obtained several bishoprics ; and, at length, was made arch- bishop 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 favors. As his revenues were im- a* 58 CARDINAL WOLSBY. mense, and his influence unbounded, his pride and ostentation were carried to the greatest height. He had eight hundred servants; amongst whom were nine or ten lords, fifteen knights, and forty esquires. From this great height of jjower and splendor, 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 period to his days. A short time before he left the world, the review of bis life, and a consciousness of the misapplica- tion of his time and talents, drew from him this sorrowful declaration: "Plad I but served God as diligently as I have served the king, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs. But this is the just reward' that I must receive for my inces- sant pains and study, not regarding 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 honor and the happiness of men. SECTIOlSr II. SIR JOHN MASON. A STKONG testimony to the importance of re- ligion, is given by Sir John Mason, wlro, thougli but 63 years old at his death, had flourished in the reign of four sovereigns, (Henry VIII., " Ed- ward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth,) 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 thas to those about him : " I have lived to see five sovereigns, and have been privy-counsellor to four of them. I have seen the most remarkable things in foreign parts, and have been present at most state transactions for the last thirty years : and I have learned, from the experience of so many years, that seriousness is the greatest wisdom, tem- perance 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-counsel- lor's bustle for a hermit's retirement, and the whole life I have lived in the palace, for an hour's en- joyment of God in the chapel. All things now 60 SIKJOHN MASON. forsake me, except my God, my duty, and my prayers." The chief field, both 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 govern- ment and subordination amongst men, it follows, that high oiEces and stations of dignity, are com- patible with true religion. It is, however, possible, 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 limitation to all our labors 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 sta- tions in which he had been placed ; but in having suffered his mind to be so much occupied with business, as to make him neglect, in some degree, the proper seasons of religious retirement, and the prime duties which he owed to his Creator. SECTION" III. CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF QERM AN Y. Chables v. emperor of Gerraany, king of Spain, and lord of the Netherlands, was born at Ghent, in the year 1500. He is said to have fought sixty battles, in most of which he was victorious ; to have obtained six triumphs, conquered four kingdoms, and to have added eight principalities to his dominions : an almost unparalleled instance of worldly prosperity, and the greatness of human glory. Bat all these fruits of his ambition, and all tha honors that attended him, could not yield true and solid satisfaction. Reflecting on the evils and mis' eries which lie had occasioned, and convinced oi the emptiness of earthly magnificence, he becamo disgusted with all the splendor th.'it surrounded him; and thought it his duty to withdraw from it, and spend the rest of his days in religious retirement. Accordingly, he voluntarily resigned all his do- minions to his brother and son ; and after taking an afiectionate and last farewell of the latter, and 62 OHAELES V. EMPEEOR OF GEEMANY. of a numerous- retinue 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 sur- rounded with rising grounds covered with lofty trees. A deep sense of his frail condition and great im- perfections, appears to have impressed his mind, in this extraordinary resolution, and through the re- mainder 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 be spent his time in re- ligious exercises, and innocent employments ; and buried here, in solitude and silence, his grandeur, his ambition, together with all those vast projects, which, for near half a century, had alarmed and agitated Europe, and filled every kingdom in it, by turns, with the terror of his arms, and the dread of being subjected to his power. Far from taking any part in the political transactions of the world, he restrained hia curiosity even from any inquiry concerning them; and seemed to view the busy scene he had abandoned, with an elevation and in- difference of mind, which arose from his thorough experience of its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflection of having disengaged himself from its cares and temptations. EMPBEOB OF GEEMASTT. 63 Here he enjoyed more solid hapjsiness, than all his grandeur had ever yielded him : as a full proof of which he has left this short, but comprehensive testimony : " I have tasted more satisfaction in my solitude, in one day, than in all the triumj)hs 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. SiE Thomas Smith was born in the year 1514, and received a liberal and polished education. In 1542, 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 employed by Queen Elizabeth as her ambassador to the court of France ; and executed the high office of secretary of state to that princess.. His abilities were excel- lent, and his attainments uncommonly great. He was a philosopher, a p>hysician, a chemist, a mathe- matician, a linguist, a historian, 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." It is truly a sorrowful reflection, that the pursuits of this life, and the love of the world, are often so SIK THOMAS SMITH. 65 muoli indulged, as to captivate the mind, and cbarm it into a state of insensibility to the great end of its existence. How much wiser and happier should we be, if we engaged in temporal concerns with moderation, and restraint, the true way to ex- tract all their good, and considered ourselves as strangers and pilgrims travelling towards a better country ;, instead of being occupied, under contin- ual anxiety and frequent disappointments, in the delusive chase of interest and pleasure, till the scene is nearly closed, and the mind left to the anguish of a melancholy retrospect ! The flood of time is fast approaching : it will soon pass over us, and bury in silence and oblivion, all our busy, fascinating schemes and engagements ; and leave nothing to survive the wreck, but Virtue and goodness, and the consciousness of Divine favor. What urgent motives for correcting our terrestrial aims and labors, and for striving to be- come heirs of that kingdom, whose honors and en- joyments are perfect, and will last for ever ! SECTIOlSr V. BERNAED GILPIN. Bbenaed GrLPiN, a man of exalted virtue, and distinguished among his contemporaries by the title of The Apostle of the North, was born in the year 1517, and descended from a respectable family in Westmoreland. 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 j)assed through the diiferent classes with great approbation. When he was six- teen years of age, he was sent to the university of Oxford, and entered a scholar on the foundation of Queen's college. In this situation, he soon became distinguished for the diligence with which he ap- plied to his academical studies ; and for his pro- ficiency in that knowledge, which the defective systems of education then existing afforded. Of his great progress in the study of divinitj^, and of the Greek and Hebrew languages, his exer- cises and disputations in the public schools gave very satisfactory evidence, and recommended him BKENAEDGILPIir. 67 to much notice in the university ; where lie was, at the same time, admired and loved for the sw-eetness of his disposition, and the simplicity and gentleness of his manners. His attachment to the Roman Catholic religion, in Avhich 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 conferences with pious and learned men ; produced, at length, a thorough persuasion of the truth of the Protestant reformed religion. This cause he steadily and zealously supported, through the whole remaining course of his life. The chief place of Gilpiin'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 satisfaction, he accepted the rectory of Houghton-le-spring. This living was of considerable value; but the duty of it was proportionably laborious. It M^as so ex- tensive, that it contained not fewer than fourteen villages. It had been much neglected ; and in it there scarcely remained any traces of true Chris- tianity. Gilpin was grieved to see the ignorance and vice, which so greatly prevailed in the places under his care. But he did not despair of bringing into order a waste so miserably uncultivated : and, by 68 BEENAED GILPIN. resolution, diligence, prudence, and perseverance, lie finally succeeded in producing an astonishing change, not only in' the character and manners of his own parishioners, but of the savage inhabitants in other northern districts. On his arrival among them, the people crowded about him, and listened to his discourses with great attention, perceiving him to be a teacher of a very different kind from those to whom they had hitherto been accustomed ; and by his truly pastoral and affectionate treatment of them, he quickly gained their confidence, resjDect, and attachment. Gilpin Lad 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 v/as 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 times, (the reign of the san- guinary Queen Mary,) his steady, though mild and temperate, adherence to the reformed religion, in- volved him in many dangers and difiioulties; from which he was often happily extricated, under Di- vine Providence, by the favor of Bishop Tonstal, and by his own judicious conduct. The malice of BBEKA ED GILPIN. '69 his enemies was probably increased by his un- affected piety, and exemplary life ; which formed a striking satire on their negligence and irregularities. They determined, therefore, to remove, if possible, so disagreeable a contrast, and so able a reformer. After many unsuccessful attempts to disgrace and destroy him, their hatred so far prevailed, that they procured an order from the merciless Bon- ner, 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 apprised by his friends of the mea- sures determined against him; and earnestly en- treated 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, with great composure, waited for the arrival of the bishop's messengers, after having ordered his servant to provide a long- garment for him, in which he might go decently to the stake. In a few days he was apprehended ; but before he reached London, an account of Queen Mary's death was received ; by which event he was de- livered from any farther prosecution. Thus provi- dentially rescued from his enemies, he returned to Houghton through crowds of people, „who ex- pressed the utmost joy, and rendered thakns to God for his deliverance. 70 BEENAED GILPIN. On the accession of Elizabeth, he was offered the bishopric of Carlisle, but this he modestly and firmly declined to accept. Not long afterward, the proYostship of Queen's college, Oxford, was tendered to him. This honor 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- j^erior to every other, in the mind of the pious abd benevolent Gilpin. Eminent as his labors 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 grammar school ; a design which his great management and frugality enabled him to accom- plish. The school began to flourish as soon as it was opened ; and there was so great a resort of young jieople 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 purjDose 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 tra- vellers 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 house. When Lord Burleigh, then lord-treasurer, BEBKAED GILPIK. 71 was sent by Queen Elizabeth to transact some af- fairs in Scotland, he could not resist the desire ■which he felt, on Iiis return, to see a man whose name he found everywhere mentioned with the higliest respect. He had not time to give any notice of his intended visit ; but tlie economy of so plentiful a house was not easily disconcerted. Gilpin received his noble guest with so much true 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." While Lord Burleigh stayed at Houghton, he took great pains to acquaint himself with the or- der and regularity with which every thing in that house was managed ; and he was not a little pleased with the result of his enquiries. There too he saw true simplicity of manners ; and every social virtue regulated by exact prudence. The statesman be- gan to unbend ; and he could scarcely avoid com- paring, 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 aifection, and the strongest assurances of his ■ readiness to render him any services at court, or elsewhere. When he had mounted a hill about a mile from Houghton, and which commands the vale, he turned his horse to take one more view '72 BEENAED GILPIN. of the iDlace ; and having kept his eye fixed upon it for some time, he broke out into these exclama- tions : " There is the enjoyment of life indeed ! Who can blame that man for not accepting a bish- oj)rio ? What does he want to make him greatei-, or ha|)pier, or more useful to mankind ?" After the lapse of many years spent in the oheer- ful, but laborious discharge of duty, this jdIous man perceived, from his many infirmities, that his end was drawing near. He told his friends his appre- hensions ; and spoke of his death with that happy composure which usually attends the conclusion of a good life. He was soon after confined to his chamber. His understanding continued perfect to the last. Of the manner of his taking leave of the world, we have the following account : A few days before his death, having ordered himself to be raised in his bed, he sent for the poor ; and beckoning them to his bed-side, he told them he perceived that he was going out of the world. I-Ie trusted they would be his witnesses at the great day, that he had endeavored to do his duty among them ; and he prayed God to remem- ber thena 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 that in his stead. Above all things, he exhorted them to fear God, and keep his com'mandments ; telhng them, if they would do this, they could never be left comfortless. BBENAED GILPIN. 13 He next ordered his scholars to he called in. To these, likewise, he made a short' speech, reminding them, that this was their time, if they had any desire to qualify themselves for being of use in the world : that learning was well worth their atten- tion, but that virtue was of much greater impor- tance 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 ima- gined his dying words might have a better effect. His speech began to falter before he had finished his exhortations. The remaining hours of his life he spent in prayer, and in broken conversations with some select friends. He often mentioned the consolations of Christianity ; declared that they were the only true ones ; and that nothing else could bring a man peace at the last. He died in 1583, 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 char- acter, marks very conspicuously the happy influ- ence of the same Divine principle ; and exhibits to every reader a most instructive lesson. The natural disposition of this worthy man was of a serious cast : yet among his particular friends he was uncommonly cheerful, sometimes facetious. His general behavior was very affable. His severity 4 74 BEENAED GILPIST. had no object but himself: to others he was gentle, candid, and indularent. Never did virtue sit vi'ith greater ease on any one ; had less nioroseness ; or could mix more agreeably with whatever was innocent in common life. He had a most extraordinary skill in the art of managing a fortune. He considered himself barely as a steward for other people ; and took care, therefore, that his own desires never exceeded what calm reason could justify. Extravagance was, with him, another word for injustice. Amidst all his business, he found leisure to look into Ms 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 for them. He used to express a particular indignation at slander ; often saying, " Slander, more than theft, deserves the gallows." He was remarkably guarded when he spoke of others : he considered common fame as a false medium, and a man's repu- tation as his most valuable property. His sincerity was such as became his other vir- tues, tie had the strictest regard to truth, of which his whole life was one consistent example. All little arts and sinister practices, those ingre- dients of worldly prudence, he disdained. His per- severance in so commendable a practice, in what- ever diiEculties it might at first involve him, raised BEESTAED GILPIK. ^5 his character, in the issue, above malice and envy; and gave him that weight and influence in every thmg he undertook, which nothing but an approved sincerity can give. Whatever his other virtues were, their lustre was greatly increased by his humility. To conquer religious pride, is one of the best effects of reli- gion; an effect which his religion in the most strik- ing manner produced. With regard to his clerical office, no man could be more strongly influenced by a desire of dis- charsfinaf his duties. As soon as he uirdertook the care of a parish, it engrossed his attention. The pleasures of life he totally relinquished, and even restrained his favorite pursuits of literature. This was the more commendable in him, as he always had a strong inclination for retirement ; and was often violently tempted to shut himself up in some university at home or abroad, and live there se- questered from the world. But his conscience corrected his inclination ; as he thought the life of a mere recluse by no means agreeable to the act- ive principles of Christianity. The very repose to which his age laid claim, he would not indulge; but, as long as he had strength sufficient, he per- severed 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, Y6 BEENAED GILPIN. or made the common good more the study of his life ; which was, indeed, the best comment on the great Christian principle of universal charity. He called nothing his own : there was nothing he could not readily part with for the service of others. In his charitable distributions, he had no measure but the bounds of his income, a small portion of which was always laid out on himself. Nor did he give as if he were granting a favor, but as if he were paying a debt : all obsequious service or 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 attainment of just notions respecting it, his chief study. To what was matter of mere speculation, he paid little or no regard: such opinions only as influenced practice, he thought concerned him. He knew no other end of religion than a holy life: and there- fore in all his enquiries about it, he considered him- self 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 ab- solutely depended, in all conditions of life. He was resigned, easy, and cheerful, under whatever BBENAED GILPIN. ^7 commonly reputed misfortunes lie met with. Be- lieving in a particular providence, lie 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, •the 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 un- wearied application to the business of his calling ; and the boldness and freedom with which he re- proved the guilty, whatever their fortunes or sta- tions 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 succession of serious folly, which engages a great pa*t of mankind, who crowd into a small compass every important concern of life ! How much more nobly does that person act, who, unmoved by all that the world calls great and bappy, can separate appear- ances from realities, and attend only to what is just and right ; who, not content with the closest attainment of speculative virtue, maintains each 18 BEENAED GILPIN. wbi-thy resolution that he forms; and perseveres steadily, like this excellent man, in the conscien- tious discharge of the duties of that station, what- ever it be, in which Providence has placed him ! This memoir is piinoipally taken from a -work entitled, " The Life of Bernard Gilpin : by WilUam Gilpin, M. A." It is a valuable and interesting piece of biography. SEOTIOE" VI. JANE, QUKiEN OF NAVARRE. This excellent queen was the daughter of Henry II., king of Navarre, and of Margaret of Orleans, sister to Francis I., king of France. She was born in the year 1528. Prom 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 princiiDality, 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 the nuptials of her "Bon and the king of France's sister, fell a sacrifice to the cruel machinations of the French court, against the Protestant religion. The religious fortitude and genuine piety, with which she was endued, did not, however, desert her in this great conflict, and at the approach of death. To some that were about her, near the conclu- 80 JANE, QUEEN OF NATAEBB. sion of her time, she said : " I receive all this as from the hand of God, my most merciful Father : nor have I, dm'ing my extremity, feared to die, much less murmured against God for inflicting this chastisement upon me ; knowing that whatsoever he does with me, he so orders it, that, in the end, it shall turn to my everlasting good." When she saw her ladies and women weeping about her bed, she blamed them, saying : " Weep not for me, I pray you. God, by this sickness, caUs 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 steer- ing." 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 himself will be their father and protector, as he has ever been mine in my greatest afiiictions : I, therefore, commit them wholly to his government and father- ly care. I believe that Christ is my only Mediator and Saviour ; and I look for salvation from no other. my God ! in thy gqod time, deliver me from the troubles of this present life, that I may attain to the felicity which thou hast promised to bestow upon me." SECTIOK YII. SIR I'RANCIS WALSINGHAM. SiE Peancis Walsingham, an eminent person in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was born at Chislehurst in Kent, of an ancient and honor- able family. He made great progress in his studies at Cambridge : and, to complete his education, travelled into foreign countries, where he acquired various languages and great accom- plishments. He was three times sent 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 promoting and accomplishing the extraordinary measures 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 managing the secret recesses of the heart. To his sagacity and diligence, under Divine Prov- idence, may be attributed the defeat of the king of Spain's grand Armada. 4* 82 SIK FKANOIS "WALSINGHAM. 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 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 coun- try, our fortunes, our sovereign ; it is high time to begin to live to ourselves, and to our God." This giving occasion for some facetious person of the court, to visit, and to try to divert him; he expressed 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 lioly 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 suitable 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, doubt- less, friendly to a cheerful temper of mind, and to innocent recreations, on all suitable occasions : but SIE FKANCIS WALSINGHAM. 83 he knew and felt, that there are events and cir- cumstances in our lives-, which call for jDcculiar circumspection and seriousness, as most congenial with our situation, and most conducive to our best interests. SECTION VIII. LADY JANE OREY. This excellent personage was descended from the royal line of England, by both her parents. She was carefully educated in the principles of the Reformation. Besides the solid endowments of piety and virtue, she possessed the most engaging disposition, and the most accomphshed parts. Being of an equal age with king Edward YI., 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 occujsations and amuse- ments 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 em- ployed in reading Plato, while the rest of the family were engaged in a party of hunting in the park : and upon his admiring the singularity of her choice, she told him, that " she received more pleasure LADY JANE GEBT. 85 from that author, than others could retip from all their sports and gayety." This amiable lady fell an innocent victim to the wild ambition of the duke of Northumberland; ■who, having effected a marriage between her and hia son, Lord Guildford Dudley, raised her to the throne of England, in defiance of the rights of the jirincesses Mary and Elizabeth. At the time of her marriage, she was but eighteen years of age ; and her husband was also very young. Her heart, replete with, the love of literature and serious studies, and with tenderness towards her husband, who was deserving of her affection, had never opened itself to the flattering 'allurements of ambition ; and the information of her advancement to the throne, was by no means agreeable to her. She even refused to accept the crown ; pleaded the superior right of the two princesses ; expressed her dread of the consequences attending an enterprise so dangerous, not to say so criminal ; and desired to remain in that private station in which she was born. Overcome at last by the entreaties, rather than by the reasons, of her father and father-in-law, and, above all, of her husband, she submitted to their will, and was prevailed on to relinquish her own judgment. But her elevation was of very short continuance. The nation declared for Queen Mary : and Lady Jane Grey, after wearing the vain pa- geantry of a crown, during ten days, returned to BD LADTJANEGEET. a private life, with much moi-e satisfaction than she could have felt when royalty was tendered to her. Queen Mary, who appears to have been incapable 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 color of tender mercy to the prisoner's soul, induced her to send priests, who molested her with perpetual disputa- tion; and even a reprieve of three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be persuaded, during that time, to j)ay, by a timely conversion to popery, some regard to her eternal welfare. Lady Jane had presence of mind, in those mel- ancholy circumstances, not only to defend her reli- gion by solid arguments, but also to write a letter to her sister, in the Greek language ; in which she exhorted her to maintain, in every ^fortune, a like steady perseverance. On the day of her execution, her husband, Lord Guildford, desired permission to see her ; but she refused her consent, and sent him word, that the tenderness of their parting would overcome the for- titude of both, and would too much unbend their minds from that constancy, which their approaching end required. Their separation, she said, would be LADY JANE G E'E Y . 87 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, disappoint- ments, 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 direc- tions that they should be beheaded within the verge of the Tower. She saw her husband led to execution ; and having given him from the window some token of her remembrance, waited with tran- quillity 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 con- firmed by the reports which she heard of the con- stancy 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 per- petual memorial of her. She gave him her table- book,- on which she had just written three sen- tences, on seeing her husband's dead body ; one in Greek, another in Latin, a third in English. The purport of them was, that human justice was against his body, but that Divine Mercy would be favor- able to his soul ; that if her fault deserved punish- 88 LADTJANEGEBT. ment, her youth, at least, and her imprudence, were worthy of excuse ; and that God and posterity, she trusted, would show her favor. On the scaffold, she made a speech to the by- standers, in which the mildness of her disposition led her to take the blame entirely on herself, with- out 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 suf- ficient 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 punishment, for being made the in- strument, 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 destruction of the commonwealth. After uttering these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by her women ; and with a steady, serene countenance, submitted herself to the exe- cutioner. LADY JANE GEEY. 89 We shall conclude the account of this virtuous and excellent young jDerson, with a few remarks resiDCoting her, made by bishop Burnet : " She read," says he, " the Scriptures much, and had at- tained great knowledge of religious subjects. But with all her advantages of birth and parts, she was so humble, so gentle and pious, that all people both admired and loved her. She had a mind wonder- fully raised above the world ; and at the age, when others are but imbibmg the notions of philosophy, she had attained the practice of the highest, j)re- cepts of it. " She was neither lifted up with the hope of a crown, nor cast, down, when she saw her palace made afterwards her prison; but maintained an equal temper of mind in those great inequalities of fortune, that so suddenly exalted and depressed her. All the passion which she expressed, was that which is of the noblest sort, and which is the indication of tender and generous natures, being much aifected 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 her more welcome, than to pass from this valley of misery, to that heavenly throne to which she was to be advanced," SECTION IX. SIK AVALTER RALEIQH. Sib Waiter Raleigh, an illustrious English- man, of an ancient family in Devonshire, was born in 1552. He was a man of admirable parts, exten- sive knowledge, undaunted resolution, and strict honor and honesty. As a soldier, a statesman, and a scholar, he was greatly distinguished ; and was eminently useful to Queen Elizabeth, who protected and encouraged him in the various enterprises which he projected. He was the discoverer of Virginia ; and took effectual measures for the set- tlement of the country, and for promoting its pros- perity. His active enterprises against the Spaniards, both in Europe and South America, excited the particu- lar enmity of the court of Spain, which used every means to effect his destruction. During 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. He was afterwards trusted by James with a com- SIE WALTEB BALEIGH. 91 mission of considerable importance ; and thus vir- tually pardoned for all supposed offences. The malice of his enemies, however, at length prevailed against him ; and he was pusillanimously sacrificed to appease the Spaniards, who, whilst Raleigh lived, thought every part of their dominions in 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 admonitions : 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 dishonor- able before worthy men, to wrest any thing from the needy and Jaboring soul. God will never pros- per thee, if thou offendest therein. Use thy poor neighbors and tenants well. Have compassion on the poor and afflicted, and God will bless thee for 92 SIB WALTEE EALEIGH. 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- deavors to him, that must either wither or prosper them. Please him with prayer, lest if he frown, he confound all thy fortune and labor, 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 my 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. 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 tlie will of God that I shall see you any more, bear my destruction patiently, and with a heart like your- self. " First, I send you all the thanks which my heart can conceive, or my words express, for your many SIE WALTBE EALEIGH. 93 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 miser- able fortunes, and the right of your poor child : your mourning cannot avail me, who am but dust. " Thirdly, you shall understand, that my lands were conveyed, bona fide, to my child : the writ- ings were drawn at midsummer was a twelve- month, as divers can witness. I trust my blood will quench their malice who desired my slaughter; and that they will not seek to kill you and yours with extreme poverty. " To what friend to direct you, I know not ; for all mine have left me in the true time of trial. Most sorry 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 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 SIE WALTBE EALBIGH. lu, and a father to him ; a husband and a father at can never be taken from you. "Dear wife, I beseech you, for my soul's sake, Y all poor men. When I am dead, no doubt lu will be much sought unto ; for the world inks I was very rich. Have a care of the fair etences of men ; for no greater misery can befall u in this life, than to become a prey unto the >rld, and afterwards to be desjjised. As for me, mi no more yours, nor you mine : death has cut asunder, and God has divided nie from the )rld, and you from me. " Remember your poor child, for his father's ke, who loved you in his happiest estate. I sued ■ my life ; but, God knows, it was for you and urs, that I desired it ; for know it, my dear wife, ur child is the child of a true man, who in his ^n respect despiseth death and his mis-shapen and ly forms. " I cannot write much : God knows how hardly iteal this time, when all are asleep : and it is also le for me to separate my thoughts from the >rld. Beg my dead body, which living was de- id you ; and either lay it in Sherborne, or in :eter church, by my father and mother. " I can say no more : time and death call me ay. The everlasting God, powerful, infinite, and orntaHle, God' Almighty, who is goodness itself, 3 true light and life, keep yon and yours, and ve mercy upon me, and forgive my persecutors SIB WALTEE EALEIGH. 95 and false accusers, and send us to meet in his glo- rious kingdom ! My dear wife, farewell ! bless my boy ; pray for me ; and may my true God hold you both in his arms ! " Tours that was, but not now mine own. "Walter Raleigh." SECTIOlsr X. R I O H A R I> HOOKEK. RiCHAED HooKEE WES bom near Exeter, in the year 1553. He possessed great learning and sound judgment; and distinguished himself by a cele- brated work, entitled, " The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity." He was a meek and pious man, and spent his days in laboring to ]Dromote 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 temjDer, 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 degree 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 situation, " whei-e," as he piously expresses himself, " I may EICHAED HOOKER. 97 see God's blessings spring out of the earth, and eat my own bread, in peace and privacy ; a place where I may, without disturbance, meditate on my ap- proaching 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 tri- umph ; 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 keeping ; but in thine, who didst - care for me, when I yet hung on my mother's breast. Blessed are they who put their trust in thee : for when false witnesses were risen up against me ; 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 become my deliverer. As long as I live, I will magnify thy mercy, who didst not give me over to my enemies." When his slanderers were about to be punished, he endeavored to procure their pardon : but find- ing his labors for this purpose fruitless, he observed, 98 EICHAED HOOKEE, that "he woulcl, however, pray, that God would give them repentance, and patience to undergo their punishment." After thia deliverance, he was often heard to say : " O, with what quietness did I enjoy my soul, after I was free from the fears of this slander ! And how much more, after the con- flict with myself, and the victory over my desires of revenge !" Hooker was not happy in his marriage : but he endeavored to profit by this trial, and to be cheer- fully resigned to the will of God. To a friend, who expressed his sorrow 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 hath allotted for me : but I ought to labor, as indeed I do daily, to submit to his will, and to possess my soul in patience and peace." A short time before his death, this humble and truly good man, expressed himself as follows: "I have lived to see that this world is full of perturba- tions ; and I have been long preparing to leave it, and gathering comfort for the awful hour of male-" ing up my account with God, which I now appre- hend to be near. And though I have, by his grace, loved him in my youth, and feared him in my age, and labored to have a conscience void of ofTence towards him, and towards all men ; yet, if thou. Lord, shouldst be extreme to mark what I have done amiss, how shall I abide it ? Where I have EICHAED HOOKEE. 99 failed, Lord, show mercy to me ; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgiveness of my un- righteousness, through His merits, who died to pur- chase 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 be done !" At another time he said: "God hath heard my daily petition : for I am at peace with all men, and he is at peace with me. From this blessed assur- ance, I feel that inward joy, which the world can neither give, nor take from me. My conscience beareth me this witness; and' this witness makes the thoughts of death joyful. I could wish to live to do the church more service ; but I cannot hope it ; for my days are 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 4'7th year of his age. CHAPTER III. Sib Philip Sedney — Sik Oheistophek Hatton — Lord Bacon — SiE Hen-ry 'WoTTOif — Peter Du Moumn — De. Donne — - Philip III., KiNa of Spain — OATHAEora; Bretterq — Ozen- STiHEjj, Chancellor of Sweden — Hueo Geotius — John Selden — Cardinal Eiohelibu — -Lord HABRrNGiON — Sal- MASIirS. SECTION" I. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. SiE Philip Sidnbt was born in Kent, in the year 1554. He possessed shining talents; "was well educated ; and at the early age of twenty-one, was sent by Queen Elizabeth, as her ambassador to the emperor of Germany. He is described by the writers of that age, as the finest model of an ac- complished gentleman that could be formed, even in imagination. An amiable disposition, elegant erudition, and polite conversation, rendered him the ornament and delight of the English court. Lord Brooke so highly valued his friendship, that he directed to be SIB PHILIP SipiTEY. 101 inserted as part of his epitaph, "Here lies Sir Philip Sidney's friend." His fame Was so widely spread, that if he had chosen it, he might have ob- tained the crown of Poland. But the glory of this Marcellus of the English nation, was of short duration. He was wounded at the battle of Zutphen, and carried to Arnheim, where, after languishing about three weeks, he died, in the 32d year of his age. This accomplished person, at the solemn period of approaching death, when a just estimate of things is formed, and when the mind looks round for support and consolation, perceived that the greatest worldly honors are .only splendid vanities, and have but a momentary duration. At this pe- riod, he was so dissatisfied with his " 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 reconciliation." Compared with his present views of religion, his former virtues seemed to be nothing. When it was observed to him, that good men, in the time of great affliction, found comfort and support, in the 102 SIE PHILIP SIDNEY. 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 mito God ; and if he cut me off, and suffer me to live no longer, I shall glorify him, and give up myself to his ser- vice." The nearer death approached, the more his con- solation and hopes increased. A short time before his dissolution, he lifted up his eyes and hands, and littered these words : " I would not change my joy for the empire of the world." His advice and observations, on taking the last leave of his deeply afflicted brother, are worthy of remembrance. They appear to have been expressed with great seriousness and composure. "Love my memory ; cherish my frjends. Their fidelity to me may assure you that they are honest. But, above all, govern your wills and affections, by the will and word of your Creator. In me, behold the end of the world, and all its' vanities." SECTIOlsr II. SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. SiE Cheistophek Hatton" possessed great abili- ties, 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 favored, made him lord high chancellor of England. And it was remarkable, that though he had never followed the profession of the law, his knowledge of it "was bo profound, that none of his decisions, as chancellor, were ever found deficient either in equity or judgment. This learned man had a high veneration for the Holy Scriptures ; and a short time before his death, particularly recommended to his 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 our country; but how much more excellent is it, to know the statutes of heaven, and the laws of eternity, the im- mutable and perpetual laws of justice and righteous- ness ! to know the will and pleasure of the great Monarch and universal King of the world! 'I have 104 SIE CHEISTOPHEB HATTON. seen an end of all perfection; but thy command- ments, O God ! are exceedingly broad.' " The knowledge of the Divine will, is, indeed, the most important of all knowledge. Were we pos- sessed of the most comprehensive understanding, the finest imagination, and the most capacious memory; were we able to penetrate into all the secrets of nature, and sound the depths of every art and science ; and yet remain ignorant of, or disregard. Him who is the Author of our being and the Preserver of our lives, our Sovereign and our Judge ; we should, with a great deal of know- ledge, mistake our highest interests, and be misera- ble for ever. SECTION" III. LORD BACON. Fbancis Bacoit, 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 great- ness of genius, and compass of knowledge, did honor 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 knowledge 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 stylg, or the brightness of imagination. "I was infinitely pleased to find, among the works of this extraordinary man, a pj-ayer of his own composing ; which, for its elevation of thought, and greatness of expression, seems rather the devo- tion of an angel than of a man. His principal fault appears to have been, the excess of that virtue 5* 106 LOED BACOBT. which covers a multitude of faults. This betrayed him to so great an indulgence towards his servants, who made a corrupt use of it, that it stripj^ed him of those riches and honors, which a long series of merits had heaped upon him. But in this prayer, at the same time that we find him prostrating him- self before the great meroy-seat, and humbled un- der afflictions, which at that time lay, heavy upon him, we see him supported by the sense of his in- tegrity, his zeal, his devotion, and his love of man- kind ; 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 lord- ship's papers, written with his own hand : — " ' Most gracious Lord God, my merciful Father ! 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 ; I have ever prayed unto thee, that the vine which thy right hand hath planted in this nation, might have the former and the latter rain; and that it might LOED BACON. 107 stretch its branches to the seas, and to the floods. The state and bread of the poor and oppressed have been precious in my eyes ; I have hated all cruelty and hardness of heart ; I have, though a despised weed, endeavored to procure the good of all men. If any have been my enemies, 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 thy Scriptures much more so. I have sought thee in the courts, the fields, and the gardens ; but I have found thee in thy temples. " ' Thousands have been my sins, and ten thou- sands my transgressions : but thy sanctiflcations have remained with me, and my heart, 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 fatherly com- passions, in thy merciful chastisements, and in thy most visible providences. As thy favors have in- creased upon me, so have thy corrections ; as my worldly blessings were exalted, so secret darts from thee have pierced me ; and when I have ascended before men, I have descended in humiliation before thee. And now, when I have been thinking most of place and honor, thy hand is heavy upon me, and has humbled me according to thy former loving- kindness, keeping me still in thy fatherly school, 108 LOEDBAGOK. 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 confess before thee, that I am debtor to thee for the gracious talents of thy gifts and graces ; which I have neither put into a nap- kin, nor placed, as I ought, with exchangers, where it 'might have made best profit; but I have mis- spent it in things for which I was least fit : so I may truly say, my soul has been a stranger in the course of my pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my Saviour's sake, and receive me into thy bosom, or guide me in thy ways.' " SECTION IV. SIR HENRY WOTTON. SiE Henet Wottok, an Englishman, eminent for learning, and for knowledge in state affairs, was born in the year 1568. He was. often em- ployed 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 favor of this prince, and vras much esteemed and admired by his contemporaries. But these honors did not af- ford him that satisfaction which a wise man wishes to obtain. Amidst them all he could say : " It is the greatest happiness of my life, to be at leisure to be, and to do good." Though he was mucli esteemed for his wisdom and regular deportment, yet near the end of his days, when he reflected seriously on his past life, he felt gi-eat concern ; and often repeated these solemn expressions : " How much have I to repent of, and how little time to do it m !" SECTION V. PETER DU MOULIN. Petee dtj MoTJLiiT, Ell eminent Protestant min- ister in France, was born in the year 1568. Bayle calls him " one of the most celebrated ministers, that the reformed church in Prance ever had to boast of." He was a man of such eminence, that James the First of England employed him to at- tempt the accomplishment of a union between the reformed and Lutheran churches. This pious and excellent man was remarkable through life, foi; a low opinion of himself, and an unwearied diligence in doing good. In his last sickness, his meekness and humility were particu- larly prevalent. On heariag 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 punishment. Thou hast heaped blessings upon me. Thou hast honored me with a holy calling: but I have not labored according to the worth of it : I have ming- led my own glory with thine. I have often ne- glected thy service, to seek my particular interest. PBTEE DU MOULIlir. Ill O, liow much self-love ! what perverseness lias op- posed the kingdom of thy Son within me ! How often have I grieved thy Holy Spirit, by idle thoughts and carnal affections ! and yet thou hast always shown thyself a gracious and merciful Fa- ther to me. Thou hast, indeed, sometimes chas- tened me with thy rod. Thou hast hid thy face from me for a moment : but thou hast remembered me in thy great compassion. Lord, thou art faith- ful in thy promises. I am thy creature. Thou hast led me, and taught me, from my youth : O 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 lan- guage. I have not done all the good I ought to have done ; and that little benefit which the church has reaped by my labors, 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 rfeglected my duty in many things, and offended my God ; but I have loved his holy truth, and I hope in his mercy." His sickness was an inflammation of the lungs, with an ague, which returned with double violence every day at the same hour. Recovering from one of these fits, he said : " My God, how weary am I ! When shall I rest in thy bosom ? When shall I drink of the river of thy pleasures ? I am un- worthy of it, O my God ! but thou art glorified by 112 PETEE DU MOULIN. 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 midnight, he said to a person who attended him, " I shall now soon be relieved. I am going to my Father and my God. He has heard me indeed. I go to hun with confidence ; for he has arrayed me with the robe of his righteousness." Soon after this, he gently expired ; and his countenance retained the expression of joy. SECTION VI. DR. DONNE. John DoNNEj an excellent English, poet, was born in the year 15'73. He was educated in his father's house till the eleventh year of his age, when he was sent to the university of Oxford ; where it was observed of him, that " he was rather born wise, than made so by study." He travelled through Italy and Spain ; where he made many useful observations, and became well acquainted with the languages of those countries. After his return to England, he was solicited to go into orders, and to accept of a benefice ; but at first, he prudently declined this offer for several reasons ; chiefly, " because some former irregulari- ties of his life had been too notorious not to expose him to the censure of the world ; and would, per- haps, bring dishonor upon the sacred function." I-Ie was, however, strenuously urged by King James the First, with whom he was a great favorite, to enter into the clerical office : and after having maturely weighed the subject and employed a con- siderable time in improving himself by close study, he complied with the king's desire. He was or- 114 DB. DOKNB. dained deacon and priest by the bishop of London ; and soon after was appointed one of the king's chaplains. On the royal recommendation, he was presented with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, by the university of Cambridge. Dr. Donne moved in a large circle of friends and acquaintance. He was much visited and caressed by the nobility, foreign ministers, and other persons of distinction. So generally was he beloved and es- teemed, that, within the first year of entering into orders, he received oifers of fourteen different bene- fices, from persons of rank. He preferred, however, settling in London ; and was made preacher of Lin- coln's Inn. About this time, his domestic happiness suffered asevere shook, bythe death of abeloved 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, " Devotions upon Emergent Occasions ;" in which the fervor of his soul is strongly expressed. He re- covered from this indisposition ; and lived in good health, till he was seized with a fever in 1630, after which he began to decline. Foreseeing his end, he prepared for it with great resignation. He was, however, much affected with the retrospect of life : and on his death-bed, upon taking a solemn leave of his friends, he made this striking declaration to them : " I repent of all my life, except that part of it, which I spent in communion with God, and in doing good." SECTION YII. PHILIP III. KINQ OF SPAIN. Philip the Third was born in the year 15'7'7, and suooeeded 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 favorite : 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 suc- cessor, he had sent for him, " that he might behold the vanity of crowns and tiaras, and learn to pre- pare 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 apj)eared to be greatly disturbed in mind. He made re- peated confessions of his sins, and implored Divine mercy. He said to those around him, that he had often been guilty of dissimulation in matters of 116 PHILIP III. KING OP SPAIM-. 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 dif- ferent from the past should be my future conduct!" Though the retrospect of his life filled his mind with bitter regret, and painful apprehensions, he expressed a hope that, through the merits of the Redeemer, he should at last be received into the mansions of the blessed. The affecting expressions of his repentance and devotion, drew tears from the eyes of those who surromided him. The priest who attended him, unwilling to bruise a broken reed, endeavored to cheer and compose his troubled mind, by consolatory views of the Divine mercy, and the assurances which the Gospel affords, of assistance to the weak, and of pardon to the peni- tent. At length, the alternate tumult of hope and fear, which had so greatly agitated his mind, sub- sided into a gentle calm ; and he died peacefully, in the forty-third year of his life and the twenty-third of his reign. SECTION YIII. CATHARINE BRETTEKG. Cathaeinb Beetteeg was bom in Cheshire, about the year 1580, and was the daughter of Johq Bruen, Esq., of Bruen Stapleford. From a child, she was much employed in reading the Holy Scrip, tures, which she found of great use and comfort to her She was moderate and sober in the enjoy- ment of the good things of this life ; and carefully avoided the vain pleasures and fashions, in which many greatly delight themselves. The society of religious j)eople 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 per- fect heart. This excellent woman, in the beginning of her last sickness, was permitted to labor under great exercise and conflict of sjDirit : but she was merci- fully supported under this trial ; and the victory was, in due time, graciously given t6 her. Her dependence on the Fountain of Wisdom and Strength, for relief from this trying state of mind,, is evidenced by the following pious and fervent 118 CATHARINE BEBTTEEG. prayer: "O Lord God of my salvation, help my weakness; plead thou my cause, O God of Truth, for in thee do I trust ! O blessed Saviour, perfect the work, I humbly beseech thee, which thou hast begun in me." At another time, after she had experienced deliv- erance from this conflict, she expressed herself in the following manner : " Oh, my God, blessed be thy name for evermore, who hast shown me the j)ath of life. Thou didst, O Lord, hide thy face from me for a little season, but with everlasting mercy thou hast had compassion on me. And now, blessed Lord, thy comforting presence is come; yea. Lord, thou hast had respect to thy handmaid, and art come with fulness of joy and abundance of consolation." 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, Avhom have I in heaven but thee ? And I have none on earth besides thee. My flesh faileth, and my heart also; but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. He that preseryeth Jacob, and defendeth Israel, is my God, and will guide me unto death. Direct me, O Lord my God, and keep my soul in safety." Soon after she had expressed these words, she yielded up her soul in peace to her Creator. SECTION" IX. OXENSTIBRN. OxBNSTiEEN, chancellor of Sweden, was a man of great abilities, and uncorrupted integrity. On the accession of Christina to the crown of Sweden, the regency, during her minority, devolved upon him and four others : but so great was their con- fidence in Oxenstiern, that he was invested with the chief management of affairs; and he conducted himself with singular wisdom and uprightness. In the great schemes which he formed for the interest of his country, he was very successful ; and was highly esteemed, not only by his countrymen, but by the most eminent persons in Europe. This great statesman spent a part of his time in retirement, from which he derived the highest ad- vantage. In his retreat, he was visited by White- locke, ambassador from England to Queen Chris- tina; and in the conclusion of their discourse, 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 me time to , know him, and to know myself. All the comfort I 120 O XBM: S TI EE N. have, and which, is more than the whole world can give, is, feeling the good Spirit of God in my heart, and reading in this good book, (holding up the Bi- ble,) that came from it." This enlightened and experienced man then ad- dressed the ambassador as follows : " You are now in the prime of your age and vigor, and in great favor and business : but all this will leave yon, and you will one day better understand and relish what I say. You will then find, that there is more wis- dom, 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 favors of princes." The preceding account is given by WiUiam Penn, who says he had it, more than once, from the am- bassador himself. The sentiments expressed 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. SECTIOISr X. HUGO GROTIUS. Hugo Geotius was born in Holland, in the year 1583. He possessed the most happy disposition, a profound genius, a solid judgment, 'and a wonderful memory. These extraordinary natural endowments had all the advantages that education could give them; and" he was so happy as to find, in his own father, a pious and an able instructer, who formed his mind and his morals. Before he was fifteen, he maintained public theses in mathematics, philoso- phy, and law, with the highest applause : and he ventured to form plans that required very great learning, but which he executed in so finished a manner, that the republic of letters were struck with astonishment. He strenuously engaged in the controversies re- specting religious opinions, which, at that time, oc- cupied the learned men of the Netherlands : and the part which he took in those disputes, involved him in great trouble and perplexity. He after, wards became the queen of Sweden's ambassador at Paris. This dignity, however, was not agree- able to a man of his turn of mind. His sentjfjienta 122 HUGOGKOTIUS. respecting it, are contained in a letter which he wrote to his father from Paris. " I am," says he, "really quite tired out with honors. A private .tit'' 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 vir- tue, 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 honor, for the plain integrity of John Urick, a poor man of great piety, who spent eight hours of his time in jDrayer, eight in labor, and but eight in meals, sleep, and other necessaries." To one who admired his greafr 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 enquired 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 Christ, and declared that his hope rested upon him. To one who mentioned to him the publican spoken of in the gospel, he humbly replied, " I am that publican ;" and soon after expired. Grotius, notwithstanding the embassies and other HUGO QEOTIUS. 123 public business in wliich he was employed, com- posed a great number of excellent and mucli ad- mired works ; the principal of which are, " A Treatise of the Rights of Peace and War ;" " A Treatise on the Truth of the Christian Rehgion ;" " Commentaries on the Holy Scriptures ;" and "The History and Annals of Holland." He ap- pears to have labored much for the benefit of his fellow- creatures ; and we trust that his 6xpr,essions 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 duty of life. When great talents and learning are, from pure motives, and in true humihty, consecrated to the service of truth and religion, they become accept- able oiferings to our Divine Benefactor, and often eminently promote the good of mankind. But when we misapply these qualifications, sufier them to nourish pride and vanity, or attribute to them an efficacy in producing virtue and happiness that does not necessarily belong to them ; they occasion an unhappy waste of our time, and lay the founda- tion for bitter regret in the winding up of life. The worth and importance of those advantages 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 king- 124 HUGO GEOTIUS. dom of God and his righteousness :" remembering that this is "the one thing needful." "Whilst the mind is occupied with the variety and intricacy of speculation and hterary engage- ments, and the heart elated with the flattering dis- tinctions which they produce, we may not suffi- ciently perceive the importance of this Divine injunction : but when the close of our day ap- proaches, and the retrospect of life is made ; whei; the ardor of pursuit has abated, and the delusions of vanity and passion are at an end ; we shall form a true estimate of the worth of all sublunary at- tainments and possessions. We shall then, if not before, perceive that, to have our conversation in the world with simplicity and uprightness ; to re- ceive the truths of the gospel with meekness and cordiality ; to be pure and humble in heart ; to love our neighbors as ourselves, and God above all things ; and, by these means, to secure an incor- ruptible and immortal inheritance ; are attainments of infinitely greater moment than all the accom- plishments of mind and body, and all the posses- sions and honors that this world can bestow. As it is, therefore, our highest wisdom, may it also be our greatest concern, seasonably to antici- ]Date these reflections ; and so to temper and regu- late all our studies, and all the engagements of this life, that they may coincide with and promote the great end of our being ! SECTION" XI. JOHN SKLDEN. JoHiT Selden, a native of Sussex, was born in the year 1584. He was profoundly learned, and skilled in the Hebrew and oriental languages, be- yond any man of his time. Grotius styles him the glory of the English nation. His mind also was as great as his learning. He was hospitable, generous, and charitable ; he took great delight in doing good, and in communicating his knowledge : 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 stupendous learning, in all kinds and in all languages, that a man would have thought he had been entirely conversant among books, and had never spent an hour but in reading or writing : yet his humanity, courtesy, and afia- bility, were such, that he would have been thought to have been bred in the best courts. His good nature, charity, and delight in doing good, and in communicating all he knew, exceeded that breed- 126 JOHN SBLDBN. ing. In his conversation, he was the most clear discourser, 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 conference with Archbishop Usher, that, " though he had been very laborious in his literary enquiries, and 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 Scriptures." He said that the following passage, in a very particular manner, affected his mind : " The Grace of God, which bringeth salvation, hath appeared unto all men; teaching us, that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and god- ly, 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 pu- rify unto himself a jDeculiar 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 minister of state in France, was born of a noble family at the castle of Richelieu, in the year 1585. Being a man of prodigious capacity, and of a restless and in- satiable ambition, he formed vast designs, ■which made his life a series of agitations and perplexities. He found himself frequently under the necessity of opposing the grandees of the kingdom, the royal family, the whole house of Austria, and even Louis XIII. himself Amidst his greatest and most arduous concerns, he did not neglect to cultivate literature, and to show himself a patron of men of letters. He ma- nifested a particular regard for persons of the reli- gious orders ; and advanced those who were most remarkable for their abilities and virtues. He made many friends, and many enemies ; but his consum- mate policy enabled him to triumph over all the machinations of his opponents. When this great statesman approached the con- clusion of his time, he became very serious ; and acknowledged to Peter du Moulin, the celebrated 128 CAEDINAL EICHBLIETJ. 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 hoTV to satisfy his conscience for these devia- tions 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 strong was the idea of God in his soul ; so clear the impression of him tipon the frame of the world ; so unanimous the consent of mankind; and so powerful the convictions of his own con- science ; that he could not avoid feeling the neces- sity 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 live for ever." The serious state of his mind increased, as he drew near his last hour. A person who came to see him, enquired, " why he was so sad :" the car- dinal replied : " The soul is a serious thing : it must either bo 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, Loed Haeeington", was the son of that Lord Harrington to whom King James the First committed the education of his eldest daughter, the princess Elizabeth. 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 im- mortal inheritance. He manifested a principle 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 strong- ly apprehended that he should not recover ; and therefore calmly prepared for death. He declared his faith in Christ, and his undoubted hope of sal- vation by him : and said, with much cheerfulness, "I fear not death, in what shape soever it may as- sail me." Many excellent things were expressed by him, 6* 130 LORD HAEP. INGTON. during his illness. He greatly desired to depart this life, that he might be at home with his Lord and Saviour. About two hours before his death be declared, that "he still felt the comfort and joys of assured salvation, by Christ Jesus." And when the time of his dejjarture was come, he said, " O, 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 in France, was born in the year 1596. He was a man of very extraordinary abilities, and profound erudi- tion. 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 at- tained a considerable proficiency. He was perfect in Greek and Latin : he understood the Hebrew, Arabic, Persic, Egyptian, Chinese, &c., and he was well acquainted with all the European languages. His works are very numerous, and on various subjects. They gained him as much fame as strong powers and a vast erudition can procure. His name was soimded throughout Europe ; and he had great ofiers from foreign princes, and universities. The Venetians thought his residence among them would be such an honor, that they oiFered him a prodigious stipend : the university of Oxford made some attempts to get him into England ; and the pope invited him to settle at Rome. Cardinal Richelieu used all possible means to detain him in 132 SALMASIUS. France, even desiring him to make his own terms; and Christina, queen of Sweden, showed him ex- traordinary marks of esteem and regard. When this celebrated man arrived at the even- ing of life, and found leisure to reflect seriously on the great end of his being, he acknowledged that he had too much, and too earnestly, engaged in li- terary pursuits ; and had greatly overlooked those objects in which true and solid happiness consists. " Oh !" said he, " I have lost an immense portion of time ; time, that most precious thing in the world ! Had I but one year more, it should be spent in studying David's psalms, and Paul's epistles." " Oh ! sirs," said he to those about him, " mind the world less, and God more. ' The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom ; and to depart from evil, that is understanding,' " CHAPTER IV. Cahdiwal Mazaeine — BuLSTEODE 'Whitblooke — Anna Ma- EIA SOHUEMAN — SiR MATTHEW HaLE — DtJ EBNTI — PeINOESS Elizabeth — William: Mompesson — Admiral Penn. SECTIOE" I. CARDINAL MAZARINE. JuMus Mazaeinb, a famous cardinal and prime minister of Prance, was born in the "kingdom of ISTaples, 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 Cardinal Richelieu, that he was introduced into the French cabinet. That cardinal made him one of the exe- cutors of his will ; and during the minority of Louis XIV. he had the charge of public affairs. His high station and great abilities, excited the envy of the nobility of France ; and this occasioned 134 CAEDINAL MAZABINK. a civil war that continued sevei'al years. Mazarine was, at last, forced to retire ; a price was set on his head ; and even his fine library was sold. Bat this disgrace did not long continue. Mazarine returned to the court with more honor than he had ever en- joyed; and conducted the affairs of the kingdom •H'ith so much ability and success, that he dbtained the French king's most unreserved confidence. He possessed, in an eminent degree, the power of dis- covering the dispositions and views of men ; and of assuming a character adapted to circumstances. He was a man of great ambition, and pursued with ardor the chase of worldly honors. But, a short time before his death, he perceived the vanity of his pursuit, and lamented the misapplication of his time and talents. He was greatly affected with the prospeo^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 favors have undone me. Were I to live again, I would be a capuchin, rather than a courtier." SECTION II. BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE. BuLSTEODB Whitelockb was descended 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 emj^loyers. Whilst he was ambassador at the court of Sweden, he was par- ticularly honored 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 dispensations of God, suited to his own wise ends, and adapted to the low and imcertain state of man in the woi'ld. But the old world had the Spirit of God, for it 136 BULSTEODE .WHITBLO CKE. 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 taste of Divine things ; and it is my grief that I did not earlier apply my soul to it. I can say, that, since my retirement from the great- ness and hurries of the Avorld, 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 heart; I mean, what that has wrought in me, and for me." SECTION III ANNA MAKIA SCHURMAN Anna Maeia Schueman, 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 wrote, but spoke them fluently, to the surprise 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 temper of her mind increasing, she set little "value on all the honor she had acquired, by her extraordinary ac- complishnients ; and became zealously concerned to obtain the favor of God as the richest treasure and the highest of all enjoyments. After this change of views and sentiments, she wrote an account of her life in Latin ; in which she mentions some re- markable circumstances concerning herself, and sev- eral devout persons with whom she was connected. 138 ANNA MAEIA SCHUEKAN. * Dui'ing her last illness, she declared her full satisfaction in the religious choice she had made. After suffering much from the disorder, she ex- jiressed 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 im- ]Dressed with a sentiment of this nature : ' A Chris- tian must suffer.' This sentiment comforts me in my pains ; and supports me that I faint not. O how good it is to remain in silence and patience before God. My most beneficent Father has not dealt with me, as with his servant Job, whose friends were with him seven days in silence, and then addressed him with bitter words. But how sweet and comfortable are the impressions which I feel !" SECTIOIT IV. SIR MATTHEW HALE. Sir Matthbw Hale, lord chief justice of England, was born in Gloucestershire, in the year 1609. Before he was six years old, he lost both his parents: but by the care of a judicious guardian, great attention was paid to his education. When he had completed his studies at Oxford, he quitted the university, with an intention of going into the army ; but, on the persuasion of Sergeant Glanvill, he entered at Lincoln's Inn ; and, with great vigor, 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 levities 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, appar- ently dead at their feet. Young Hale was so affected on this occasion, that he immediately re- tired to another room ; and, shutting the door, fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly to God that his 140 SIE MATTHEW HALE. friend might be restored to life, and that he him- self might be pardoned for having given counten- ance to so much excess. At the same time, he made a solemn vow, that he vi'ould never again keep company in that manner, nor " drink a health," while he lived. I-Iis friend recovered, and Hale religiously observed his vow. After this event, there was an entire change in his disposition : he forsook all dissipated company, and was careful to divide his time between the duties of religion, and the studies of his profession. He became remarkable for a grave and exemplary deportment, great moderation of tempei', and a religious tenderness of spirit ; and these virtues ap- pear 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 : M O ENI N G . 1. To lift up the heart to God in thankfulness for renewing my life. 2. To renew my covenant with God in Christ. First, by renewed acts of faith receiving Christ, and rejoicing in the height of that relation : second- ly, by resolving to be one of his people, and doing him allegiance. 3. Adoration and ■prajer. SIE MATTHEW HALE. 141 DAT BMPLO.TMENT. 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, diUgence, cheerfulness. Not to overcharge myself with more business than I can bear. 2. Our spiritual employments. Mingle somewhat of God's immediate service in the day. I y 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 wiU make thee humble and watchful. OMP AITT. Do good to them. Use God's name reverently. Beware of leaving an ill imjjression, or ill exam- ple. Receive good from them, if they are more knowing. EVENING. Cast Tip the accounts of the day. If there was aught amiss, beg pardon; resolve to be more vigi- 142 SIE MATTHEW HALK. 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 contem- poraries. 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." Among a numerous list of these, are the following : "That, in the administration of justice, I am in- trusted for God, the king, and the country : and therefore that it be done uprightly, deliberately, resolutely. "That I rest not uj^on my own direction and strength ; but implore and rest upon the direction and strength of God. " That, in the execution of justice, I carefully lay aside my own passions, and give not way to them, however provoked. "That I be not biased with compassion to the poor, or favor to the rich, in point of justice. " That popular or court applause or dislike, have SIR MATTHEW HALE. 143 no influence in anything I do in the distribution of justice. "That I be not solicitous about what men thinly or say, so long as I keep myself exactly according to the rules of justice." The writings of Sir Matthew Hale, on religious subjects, particularly his " ContemjDiatioDS 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 testi- monies which this great and good man bore to the power and eflBcacy of religion, as the guide, sup- port, and comfort of our lives. "True religion," says he, "teaches the soul a high veneration for Almighty God ; a sincere' and upright walking, as in the presence of the invisible, all-seeing God. " It makes a man truly love, honor, 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 protection, and sub- mit to his will with patience and resignation of soul. "It gives the law, not only to his words and actions, but to his very thoughts and purposes ; so that he dares not entertain any which are unbe- coming the presence of that God, by whom all our thoughts are legible. 144 SIE MATTHEW II A L B-. " 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 Oj. this present world, and sets his heart and hopes above it ; so that he never loves it more than it deserves. " It makes the wealth, and the glory of this world, high places, and great preferments, but of little consequence to him ; so that he is neither covetous, nor ambitious, nor over-solicitous, con- cerning the advantages of them. "It makes him value the love of God and the 2Deace of his own conscience, above all the wealth and honor in the world, and to be very diligent in preserving them. " He performs all his duties to God with sin- cerity and constancy : and, whilst he lives on earth, his conversation, his hope, his treasures, are in heaven ; and he endeavors 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 gui- dance from a higher wisdom than what is barely human, namely, the Spirit of truth and wisdom ; which does really, though secretly, prevent and direct them. Any man that sincerely and truly SIE MATTHEW HALE. 145 fears Almighty God, and calls and relies ujjon bim 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 con- cerns of this life, a good man, fearing God and beg- ging 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, occurrences, and incidents of my whole life, I have never been dis- appointed of the best direction, when I have, in humility, and a sense of my own deficiency, sin- cerely implored it. " 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 our- selves or by the persuasions of others, or by the suggestions of Satan — to impure speculations or . sinful resolutions, to proud or arrogant conceptions of ourselves, to revengeful, uncharitable, or for- bidden desires, to vain and unprofitable imagina- tions ; let us reflect that these thoughts (which even natural m-odesty or prudence, would shame V 146 SIE MATTHEW HALE. as to express before mortal man) are all naked and manifest before the great and holy God. And dare ■\ve entertain such guests where onr Creator is present ? in that place which the Lord of Heaven is pleased, most justly and most mercifully to claim as his own ? Consider, it is our Judge that sees lis : 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 our- selves and all that we are, he 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 our conduct, when either by ourselves, or by others, we are solicited 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,' would be enough to outweigh all our obedience, though it were possible to separate it from what follows — • ' Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' " The following reflections on the vicissitudes of- human affairs, and on the benefits to be derived from duly considering them, are highly important and instructive : — " In the course of my life, I have been in aa SIR MATTHEW HALE. 14Y many stations and places as most men. I have ex- perienced almost continual motion ; and although, of all earthly things, I have most desired rest, and a fixed private station, yet the various changes that I have seen and found, the public employments that, •without my seeking, and against my inolina- • tion, have been put upon me, and many other in- terventions, as well private as public, have made it literally my experience, that I have here no con- tinuing city. When I had designed for myself a settled mansion in one place, and had fitted it to my convenience and rejDose, I have been piresently constrained, by my necessary employments, to leave it, and repair to another : and when again I thought to find rejoose there, and had suited it to my convenience, some other necessary occurrences have diverted me from it. And thus, my dwellings have been like so many inns to a traveller, of longer continuance, indeed, but of almost equal instability. " This unsettledness of station, though trouble- some, has given mc a good and practical moral j 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 farther for true repose and happiness. And truly, when I re- flect, 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 complain of 148 SIB MATTHEW HALE. it, as a difficulty or an inconvenience ; but to be thankful to him for it, as an instruction and docu- ment, 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 world below. " But the truth is, did we consider this life as becomes us, even as wise men, we might easily find, without the help of such discipline, that the world below, neither was intended for, nor indeed can be, a place of rest : but that it is only a labora- tory to fit and prepare the souls of the children 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' another sta- tion ; a little narrow nursery, wherein we may be dressed and pruned, till we are fit to be transplant- ed into paradise. " The shortness of our lives, and the continual troubles, sicknesses, and calamities, that attend them ; and the instances of mortality of all ages, sexes, and conditions of mankind, are sufficient to convince reasonable men, who have the seriousness and patience to consider and observe, that we have no abiding city here. And on the other side, if we will but give ourselves leisure to consider the great wisdom of Almighty God, who adapts every thing in the world to suitable ends; the excellence of the S I E MATTHEW HALE. 149' soul and mind of man ; the great advances and im- provements his nature is capable of; the admirable means which the merciful and wise God has aiford- ed mankind, by his works of nature and provi- dence, by his word and instructions, to qualify them for a nobler life than this world can yield ; we shall readily confess that there is another state, an- other city to come, which it becomes every good, and wise, and considerate man, to look after and fit himself for. " And 3'et if we regard the generality of man- kind with due consideration, they will appear to be a company of distempered people. The greater part of them make it their whole business to j)ro- vide for rest and hapjjiness in this world ; they make the acquisition' of wealth and lienor, and the preferments and pleasures of life, their great, if not their only business and happiness ; and, which 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 de- spise them. ' We fools accounted his life madness, and his end to be without honor. How is he num- bered among the children of God, and his lot is among the saints !' " '150 SIR MATTHEW HALE. This 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 in- disposition which, in a short time, greatly impaired his strength ; and he found himself so unfit to dis- charge the duty of justice of the king's bench, that he was obliged to resign the ofiice. " lie 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 aiDproaching : for besides his being weai-y of the world, and his longings for the blessedness of another state, his pains increased SQ rnuoh, that no patience inferior to his could have borne them without great uneasiness of mind. Yet he expressed to the last such submission to the will of God, and so equal a temper, that the power- ful effects of Christianity were evident, in the sup- port which he derived from it, under so lieavy a load. " He continued to enjoy the free use of his rea- son and senses to the latest moment of life. This he had often and earnestly prayed for, during his last sickness. When his voice was so sunk that he could not be heard, his friends perceived, by the almost constant lifting up of his eyes and hands, SIB MATTHEW HALE. 151 that he was still aspiring towards that blessed state, of which he was now to be sj)eedily possessed. Pie had no struggles, nor seemed to be in any pangs ii his last moments. He breathed out his' righteou.- and pious soul in peace." SECTION Y. X) U R E N T I . Du Renti was a young nobleman of France, not . more clistinguislied by his high birth, than by the excellent talents and qualifications of his mind. This accomplished 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 honors, and to withdraw from scenes which he feared would ensnare and corrupt his heart. The following extracts from his views and senti- ments, respecting these subjects, demonstrate, that his mind was m.uch redeemed from the spirit and enjoyments of this Avorld ; and that he endeavored, above all things, to obtain a hoi}'" and devout tem- per of heart, and to conduct himself acceptably in the Divine sight : " When I gave up my liberty to God, I per- ceived to what a state of deep humiliation the soul must be brought, to render it capable of union with him. The splendor and vain enjoyments of this transitory scene, are great encumbrances to Dtr EENTI. 153 me, in my endeavors to obtain the favor of God ; of which, therefore, his pleasure is that I should be stripped, in order to attain that state of humility and poorness of spirit, whioh will bring me into possession of real honor 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 the Divine injunctions, "Love npt the world, nor the things that are in the world." — " But be ye trans- formed by the renewing of your mind." It is, indeed, a holy and happy state, to be living above the world, and pressing after perfection, at the same time that we gratefully acknowledge Divine Goodness, in providing for our necessities during our passage through life. This supreme love of God, and desire to be united to him, though often cherished by retirement, is not a solitary and inactive principle. It not only purifies and exalts our minds, but it expands them towards our fellow- creatures, and leads us into acts of universal charity. SECTION YI. PRINCESS ELIZABETH. Peinoess Elizabeth, of the Rhine, was born in the year 1620. She was the eldest daughter of Frederick V., elector palatine, and king of Bohemia, by Elizabeth, daughter of James the First, king of England. This excellent princess possessed 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 where the parties were poor, or in any respect worthy of favor. It was remarkable that she often introduced religious con- siderations, as motives to persuade the contending parties to harmony and peace. She was greatly beloved and respected by her subjects; and also by many 2>ersons of learning and virtue not resident in her dominions : for she patronized men of this character, whatever might be their country, or their religious profession. In the year 167Y, the celebrated "William Penn PEIKOBSS ELIZABETH. 155 paid her a visit ; and was treated by her with great respect. The following account of her is taken from his works : — " The meekness and humility of the princess appeared to me extraordinary: she did not con- sider the quality, but the merit of the people she entertained. Did she hear of a retired man, seek- ing after the knowledge of a better world, she was sure to set him down in the catalogue of her charity, if he wanted it. I have casually seen, I believe, fifty tokens of her benevolence, sealed and directed to the several poor subjects of her bounty, whose distance prevented them from being person- ally known to her. Thus, though she kept no sumptuous table in her own court, she sj)read the tables of the poor in their solitary cells ; breaking bread to virtuous pilgrims, according 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 prosjject : lier eye was to a better and more lasting inheritance than can be found below. This made her not overrate the honors of her station, or the learning of the schools, of which she was an excellent judge. Be- ing once at Hamburg, a religious person, whom she went to see for her religion's sake, remarked to her, that ' it was too great an honor for him, that a visitant of her quality, who was allied to so many great kings and princes of this world, should come 156 PEINOBSS BLIZABETH. under his roof:' to whom she humbly replied : ' If they were religious, as well as great, it would be an honor 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 spii'it to walk in it I " She once withdrew, on purpose to give her ser- vants, who were religiously disposed, the liberty of discoursing with us, that they might the more freely put what questions of conscience they desired to be satisfied in. Sometimes she suffered both th,em and the jDOorest persons of her town, to sit by her in her own chamber, where we had two meetings. I can- not 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 temptations, yet my soiil 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 beloved by her people. To her real worth I do, with a religious gratitude, dedicate .this memorial." SECTION" VII. WILLIAM MOMPESSON. William Mompesson "vras rector of Eyam ia 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 jjriest, of his afflicted parish ; assisting the sick with his medi- cines, his advice, and his prayers. During these pious labors, 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 resigna- tion of mind, that we doubt not ' it will be accept- able to the reader : — " HoNOEBD and Dear Sik, " This is the saddest news that ever my pen could write ! The destroying angel having taken 158 WILLIAM MOMPBBSON. np his quarters witlim my habitation, my dearest wife is gone to her eternal rest, and is invested witli a crown of I'ighteousness, having made a liappy end. "Indeed, had she loved herself as well as me, she had fled from the pit of destruction with her sweet babes, and might have prolonged her days : bat she was resolved to die a martyr to my interest. My drooping spirits are much refreshed with her joys, which I think are unutterable. " Sir, this paper is to bid you a hearty farewell for ever, and to bring you my humble thanks for all your noble favors; and I hope you will believe a dying man. I have as much love as honor 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 : ' ISTever do anything 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 favorable aspect will, I know, be a great comfort to my dis- WILLIAM MOMPBSSON. 159 tressed orphans. I am not desirous that they may be great, but good ; that they may be brought up iu the fear and admonition of the Lord. " Sir, I tlianls God I am contented to shake hands with all the world; and have many com- fortable 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, sii-, that you wUl be pleased to make choice of an humble, pious man, to succeed me in my parsonage ; and oould 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 MoMPESSoif. "Etam, Sept. 1, 1666." SECTIOlSr VIII. ADMIBAL PENN. William Penk, afterwards Sir William Penn, kniglit 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 Ii'eland ; 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 en- gagement 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 Wanstead 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- ADMIEAL PEIflf. 161 cellent advice wHch, at that time, he gave to one of his sons, strongly expresses the religious state of his mind. " Son William, I am weary of the world. I would not live over my days again, if I could 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 seasonably: for these give se- curity and despatch. Lastly, 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 exceed instruction for another time. These rules will carry you with firm- ness and comfort through this inconstant world." CHAPTER V. Pascal — Robert Botle — John Locke — Johit Jane-wat^ Eael of Makleoeough. SECTIOlSr I. PASCAL. Blaise Pascal was born at Clermont in France, in the year 1623. Nature endowed him with ex- traordinary powers of mind, which were liighly cul- tivated. 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 distin- guished person, says : "A hundred volumes of re- ligious discourses, are not of so much avail to c'on- found the impious, as a simple account of the hfe of Pascal. His humility and his devotion 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 PASCAL. 163 they behold the highest degree of it in a geometri- cian of the firet rank, the most acute metaphysician, and one of the most penetrating minds that ever existed." From his infancy, Pascal gave proofs of a very uncommon capacity. He desired to know the rea- son of everything, and when sufficient reasons were not oifered, he sought for better : nor would he ever yield his assent, but to such as apjoeared to him well-grounded. It is a comfortable reflection, that a man of this turn, vrith a mind so comprehen- sive and sagacious, entertained the most exalted sentiments of the Christian religion ; and never had the least doubt of its Divine authority. This in- formation we have from his biographer, who knew him well, and who says, "that, by the instructions and example of his father, great reverence for re- ligion was early imjjressed upon his mind, and con- tinued 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 philosophical studies, in vchich 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 and admired. He employed a great part of his time in prayer, 164 PASCAL and in reading the Holy Scriptures ; 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 to the head, as to the heart of man ; that they are intel- hgible only to those who have their hearts right ; and that to others they are obscure and unin- teresting." In his retirement he was visited by many persons of distinction, who, on account of his great wis- dom and piety, wished to consult him respecting religious subjects. 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 de- cease, 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 the means of relieving the distressed. I do not return evil to those who have done me an injury. I endeavor to be sincere and faithful to all men, but I have a pecuhar tenderness towards those with whom God has caused me to Le intimately connected. Whether I am alone, or iu company, I consider myself as in the sight of God, who will judge my actions; and to whom I consecrate them PASCAL. 165 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 mi- sery, to which I was naturally subject. I owe my deliverance to his power and goodness, hav- ing nothing of myself but imbecility and corrup- tion." Pascal, from his youth, was much afflicted with sickness ; and he often said that, from the nine- teenth 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 re- joiced 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 v/as 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 anything for the poor, though I have always had a great love for them ?" She ob- served to him that he had not jDossessed property sufficient to afford them much assistance. "Then," said he, "I ought to have given them my time and labor. In this respect I am to blame : and if my physicians speak truly, and God should permit me to recover, I am resolved that the service of the 166 PASCAL. poor shall be tlie sole employment of my remain- ing days." 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 ns in health ; we are without ambi- tion, without avarice ; we are in continual expecta- tion of death. We have nothing to do, but to submit hurably and peacefully." The hcmility and simplicity of heart, for which he was always remarkable, seemed to increase as he approached his end. A person who frequently visited him in his last sickness, said of him : " He is a ohUd : he is humble ; he submits like a little child." One of his particular friends, who had spent an hour with him, and had been much edified by his meek and pious example, thus expressed himself to his sister : " You may, ind,eed, be com- forted. If God should call him hence, you have abundant cause to praise that gracious Being for the favors which he has conferred upon him. I always very much admired his great qualities : but I nev- er before observed that extraordinary simplicity which I have just now witnessed : it is wonderful in such a mind as he possesses. I most cordially wish that I were in his situation." His last words were : " May God never forsake me !" and he died full of peace and hope. PASCAL. 167 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 piety. SECTION II. ROBEKT BOYLE. The honorable Robeet Boyle, an eminent phi- losopher, and a truly good man, was the son of Richard, earl of Cork, and was born at Lismore, in Ireland, in the year 1627. At Eton school, where he was educated, he soon discovered a force of understanding, which promised great things: and a disposition to imjjrove it to the utmost. During his education, and before he was ten years old, he was much afflicted with an ague, which considerably depressed his sjairits : 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 immense. The celebrated Dr. Boerhaave has passed the following eulogium upon him : " Boyle was the ornament of his age and country. Which of his writings shall I commend ? EOBEKT BOYLE. 169 All of tliem. To him we owe the secrets of fire, air, water, animals, vegetables, fossils : so that from his works may be deduced the whole system of natural knowledge." He was treated with particular kindness and respect by King Charles the Second, as well as by the two great ministers, Southampton and Claren- don. By the latter he was solicited to enter into orders : for his distinguished learning, and unblem- ished reputation induced Lord Clarendon to think that so very respectable a personage would do great honor to the clergy. Boyle considered the proposal with due atten- tion. He reflected, that, in his present situation of life, whatever he wrote, with respect to religion, would have greater weight, as coming from a lay- man ; 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 point 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 com- municated memorandums concerning his life, tells us, that what had the greatest weight, in deter- mining his judgment, was, " the not feeling within himself any motion or tendency of mind which he could safely esteem a call from the Holy Spi- rit: and therefore he did not venture to take 8 ]70 EOUEETBOYIE. holy ordei-s, lest lie should be found to have lied unto it." Bishop Burnet, who was Boyle's particular friend, and who, daring 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 reli- gion. " This zeal," he says, " was unmixed with narrow notions, or a bigoted heat in favor of a par- ticular sect : it was that spirit which is the orna- ment of a true Christian." Burnet mentions, as a proof of this, his noble foundation for lectures in defence of the gospel, against infidels of all sorts ; the effects of which have been very conspicuous in the many volumes of excellent discourses which have been published in consequence of that laud- able and pious design. He was at the charge of the translation and im- pression of the New Testament, into the Malayan tongue : and he had it dispersed in the East Indies. He gave a great reward to the person who trans- lated into Arabic, Grotins's incomparable book, on the truth of the Christian religion ; and had a whole edition printed at his own expense, which he took care to have spread in all the countries where that language was understood. By munificent dona- tions, and by his patronage, he also very materially promoted the plans of other persons, for propaga- ting the Christian religion, in remote parts of the world. In other respects, his charities were bo ex- EOBEET BOTLB. 171 tensive, that they amounted to more than a thou- sand 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 observa- tions 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 dee23ly impressed on his mind, that he concludes the article of his will which relates to the Royal Society, in these words : ' I wish them a happy success in their attempts to discover the true nature of the works of God : and I pray that they, and all other searchers into physical truths, may cordially refer their attainments, to the glory of the great Author of nature, and to the comfort of man- kind.' " On another occasion, tho same person speaks of him thus : " He had the most profound veneration for the great God of heaven and earth, that I ever observed in any man. Tho very name of God was never mentioned by him, without a pause and observable stop in his discourse." So brightly did the example of this great and good man shine, tlirough his whole course, that Bishop Burnet, on 1*72 EOBEET BOTLB. reviewing it, in a moment of pious exultation, thus expressed himself: "I might challenge the whole tribe of libertines, to come and view the usefulness, as well as the excellence of the Christian religion, in a life that was entirely dedicated to it." SECTION III. JOHN L O O K E . John- Locke, a very celebrated philosopher, and one of the greatest men that England ever pro- duced, was born m the year 1632. He was well educated ; and applying himself with vigor to his studies, his mind became enlarged, and stored with much useful knowledge. He went abroad as secre- tary to the English ambassador at several of the German courts ; and afterwards ha,d 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 honorably distinguished himself. Notwithstanding his public employments, he found leisure to write much for the benefit of mankind. His " Essay on the Human Understand- ing," 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 Cliristian religioa. Hia 174 JOHN LOCKE. zeal to promote it appeared, first, in his middle age, by publishing a discourse to demonstrate the rea- sonableness of believing Jesus to be the promised Messiah ; and, afterwards, in the latter part of his life, by a very judicious Commentary on several of the Epistles of the Apostle Paul. The sacred Scriptures are everywhere mentioned by him with the greatest reverence ; and he ex- horts Christians, " to betake themselves in earnest to the study of the way to salvation, in those holy writings, wherein God has revealed it from heaven, and proposed it to the world ; seeking our religion where we are sure it is in truth to be found, com- paring spiritual things with spiritual." In a letter, written the year before his death, to a person who ask'ed 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, espe- cially the N"ew Testament. Therein are contained the words of eternal life. It has God for its author ; salvation for its end ; and truth without any mix- ture of error, for its matter." This advice was conformable to his own practice. " For fourteen or fifteen years, he apjDlied himself, in an especial manner, to the study of the Scrip- tures, and employed the last years of his life hardly in anything else. He was never weary of admir- ing the great views of that sacred book, and the just relation of all its parts : he every day made JOHN LOCKE. 1'J5 discoveries in it, that gave him fresh cause of admiration.'' The consolation which he derived from Divino revelation, is forcibly expressed in these words : " I gratefully receive and rejoice. in the light of revela- tion, which has set me at rest in many things, the manner whereof my poor reason can by no means make oivt to Aie." After he had diligently employed a great jsai't of his life in a variety of occupations, he chose' a pleas- ing 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 jDast life ; to form a proper estimate of its enjoyments; and to dedicate himself 'more fully to the cause of piety and virtue. The summer before his death, he began to be very sensible of his approaching dissolution. He often spoke of it, and always with great composure. A short time before his decease, he declared to a friend, that " he was in the sentiments of perfect charity towards all men ; and of a sincere union with the church of Christ, under whatever name distinguished.'.' The day before his death. Lady Masham being alone with him, and sitting by his bedside, he exhorted her to regard this world only as a state of preparation for a better ; adding, that " he had lived long enough, and' thanked God for having passed his days so comfortably ; but that this life 1'76 JOHK LOCKE. appeared to him mere vanity." His meaning, in this last expression, doubtless was, that the dura- tion and enjoyment of this life are as nothing, compared with the endless ages, and the supreme felicity, of the life which is to come. The same day, he particularly advised all about him to read the Scriptures ; and desired to be re- membered by them at evening prayers. Being told that, 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, re- turned God thanks, for having blessed him w^ith the knowledge of the Divine Saviour. About ty^o^onths 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 following re- mai'kable words : — ■ " May you live long and happy, in the enjoyment of health, freedom, content, and all those blessings which Providence has bestowed on you, 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 conscious- JOHN LOCKE. 1V7 ness of doing well, and in the hopes of another life. This is what I can say upon experience ; and what you will find to be true, when you come to make up the account. Adieu." The following extract from a letter written by Lady Masham, deserves a place among the testi- monies respecting this distinguished and excellent man: " Tou will not, perhaps, dislike to know, that the last scene of Mr. Locke's Ufe, was not less admirable than anything else concerning him. All the facul- ties of his mind were perfect to the last. His weak- ness, of which only he died, made such gradual and visible advances, that few people, I think, do so sen- sibly see death approach them, as he did. During all this time, no one could observe the least altera- tion ia his humor : always cheerful, conversable, civil ; to the last day thoughtful of all the concerns of his friends, and omitting no fit occasion of giv- ing Christian advice to all about him. In short, his death was, like his life, truly pious; yet natural, easy, and unafieoted. Time, I think, can never pro- duce a more eminent examj)le of reason and re- ligion than he was, both living and dying." 8* SECTION IV. JOHN JANE WAY. John Janewat was born in Hertfordshire, in the year 1633. He was remarkable for his jjiety and love of mankind, for an exemplary conduct through life, and a happy, triumphant death. Before be was thirteen years of age, he had made a considerable proficiency in the mathematics, in the science of astronomy, and in other branches of useful hterature. At the age of seventeen, he was chosen to King's College in Cambridge ; and when he was about eighteen, it pleased Divine Goodness to open his understanding, and discover to him, that the knowledge of his Creator, and a conscious- ness of an interest in his love, through Jesus Christ, was infinitely superior to every attainment and pos- session of this world. At this time, he became sensible that astronomy 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 counte- nance. Though he had a just sense of the value of learning and knowledge, yet he now " counted JOHJSTJAKEWAT. 179 everything but as dross and duDg, in comparison cf the knowledge of Christ, and him crucified." From, tliis period of his life to the conclusion of it, he con- tinued to rise above the world, and to labor for purity of heart, and acceptance in the Divine sight, As his own comforts came from the source of all consolation, so he was desirous of leading others to partake of that fountain, and to depend upon it for support. "We poor foolish creatures," said he, on a particular occasion, " scarcely know what is good for ourselves : but it is no small encouragement to the people of God, that wisdom itself is their guard; and that one who loves them better than they love themselves, cares for them." When he fell into a decline, and had but little prospect of life, he was far from being alarmed with the view of his dissolution. " I am ashamed," he said, "to desire and pray for life. Is there any- thing here, more desirable than the enjoyment of Jesus Christ ? Can I desire anything below com- parable to that blessed vision ? O that crown ! that rest which remains for the people of God 1 and, blessed be God, I can say, I know it is mine." It was his custom to set apart an hour every day, for secret retirement and solemn meditation. On one of these occasions, a friend of his, unknown to him, placed himself in a situation, where he ob- served all that passed ; and his remarks on the scene before him, are worthy of insertion. "What a spectacle did I behold ! Surely, a man walking 180 JOHN JANEWAT. with God, conversing intimately with him, and maintaining a holy freedom with the great Jeho- vah. Methought I Baw a spiritual merchant in a heavenly exchange, pursuing a rich trade for the treasures of the other world. O what an animating sight it was ! methinks I see him still. Hov? lovely was his countenance ! His looks, and smiles, and every motion, spoke him to be upon the confines of glory." He was full of love and compassion to the souls of men ; and often greatly lamented the barrenness of Christians, in their converse with each other. " O," said he, 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 holi- ness ! Where is our love to God, and our fellow- creatures, all this while? Where is our sense of the preciousness of time ? of the greatness of our account ? Should we talk thus, if we believed we should hear of it again at the day of judgment? Does not this speak aloud that our hearts are de- void 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 in- visible world, he replied: "Ah! I feel something of it. My heart is as full as it can hold in this lower state." Though he was, generally, as he approacl^ed his end, in a triumphant frame of spirit^ yet he expe- JOHJS- JANE WAT. 181 lienced, at times, some variations ; and in these seasons, he used to say : " Hold out, faith and pa- tience, 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 : " 0, why this love to me. Lord ? why to me ? Praise is now my work, and I shall be engaged in that sweet employment for evei'. O, help me to praise him ! I have nothing else to do. I have done with prayer"; I have almost done with conversing with mortals. I shall soon behold Christ himself, who died for me, and loved me, and washed me in his blood. I shall shortly be in eternitj'", singing the song of Moses, and the song of the Lamb. I shall presently stand upon Mount Sion, with an innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of the just made perfect. I shall hear the voice of multitudes, and be one amongst them who say, 'Hallelujah! salvation, glory, and honor, and power, unto the Lord our God !' " Thus did this favored 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. EABL OF MARLBOROUQH. James, Eael of Maklboeough, was killed in a battle at sea, on the coast of I-Iolland, in the year 1665. ISTot long before his death, he had a presen- timent of it ; and wrote to his friend, Sir Hugh Pollard, a letter, of which the following is an ex- tract : — "I believe the goodness of your nature, and the friendship you have always borne me, will receive with kindness the last office of your friend. I am in health enough of body, and, through the mercy of God in Jesus Christ, well disposed in mind. This I premise, that you may be satisfied that what I write proceeds not from any fantastic terror of mind, but from a sober resolution of what concerns myself, and an earnest desire to do you more good after my death, than my example, (God of Ms 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 labor. But there is a certain thing called Religion, dressed fantastically, and to purposes bad enough, EAEL OF MAELBOBOtTGH. 183 which yet, by such evil dealing, loseth not its being. The great, good God bath not left it with- out a witness, more or less, sooner ,or 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 per- plex us with, God, in bis infinite mercy, hath given us his holy word, in which, as there are many things hard to be understood, so there is enough plain and easy, to quiet our minds, and direct us concerning our future being. I confess to God and you, I have been a great negleoter, and, I fear, despiser of it ; God, of his infinite mercy, pardon me the dreadful fault ! But when I retired myself from the noise and deceitful vanity of the world, I found no . true comfort in any other resolution than what I had from thence. I commend, from the bottom of my heart, the same to your, I hope, happy use. " Dear Hugh, let us be more generous, than to believe we die as the beasts that perish ; but with a Christian, manly, brave resolution, look to what is eternal. The only great and holy God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, direct you to a happy end of your life, and send us a joyful resurrection. So prays your true friend, Maelboeough." This letter marks the writer's strong sense of the importance of the sacred writings; and his 184 EAEL OF MAELBOBOUGH deep regret for having, at any period, treated them with indiiferenue. When our pursuits in Ute, 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. Whatever, therefore, tends to lessen our esteem for those venerable and highly interesting communications of the Divine Will ; or disinclines us to the perusal and study of them ; sho\jld be regarded with early apprehension, and avoided with the utmost solicitude. "The Scriptures," says Bishop Home, ''are won- derful, with respect to the matter which they con- tain, the manner in which they are written, and the eifects which they produce. They contain the sublimest truths, many of which are veiled under external ceremonies and figurative descriptions. When they are properly opened and enforced, they terrify and humble, they convert and transform, they console and strengthen. Who but must de- light to study, and to observe these testimonies of the will and the wisdom, the love and the power of God most high ! While we have these holy writ- ings, let us not waste our time, misemploy our thoughts, and prostitute our admiration, by doat- ing on human follies, and wondering at human trifles." CHAPTER VI Lady Rachel EnssEL — Jane Eatolifee — Sie Isaac New- ton — Bishop Btjenet — John, Eaei of Rockestee. SECTION" I. LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. Ladt Eachel Russel, daughter of the earl of Southampton, was born about the year 1636. She appears to have possessed a truly noble mind, a solid understanding, an amiable and a benevolent temper. Her pious resignation, and religious de- portment, under the pressure of very deep distress, afford a highly instructive example, and an eminent instance of the Povs^er of Religion to sustain the mind, in the greatest storms and dangers, when the waves of affiction 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 of his severe sentence, with Christian and invincible for- 186 LADY EACHEL KTJSSBL. titude. During the period of her illastrious hus- band's troubles, she conducted herself with a mix- ture of the most tender affection, and the most surprising magnanimity. She appeared in court at his trial ; and when the attorney-general told him, "lie might employ the hand of one of his servants in waiting, to take notes of the evidence for his use," Lord liussel answered, "that he asked none, but that of the lady who sat by him." The spectators, at these words, tui-ned their eyes, and beheld the daughter of the virtnons 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. Wiien the time of separation came, her condnct appears to be worthy of the highest admiration : for without a sigh or tear, she took her last fare- well 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 piarted from his lady with a com- posed silence : and observing how greatly she was supported, said after she was gone: "The bitter- ness 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 LADY KACHBl ETJSSBL. 187 observed, that he should have been miserable, if she had not possessed so great magnanimity of spirit joined to her tenderness, as never to have desired him to do a base thing to save his life." He said, "there -was a signal 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 behavior in his extremity, exceeded all." After the death of her lord upon the scaffold, this excellent woman, encompassed with the dark- est clouds of affliction, seemed to be absorbed in a religious concern, to behave properly under the afflicting hand of God ; and to fulfill the duties now devolved upon herself alone, in the care, educa- tion, disposal, and happiness of her children ; those living remains of her lord, which had been so dear to him, and which were, for his sake, as well as their own, so dear to herself. The following short extracts from a few of her letters, evince the humble and pious frame of her mind ; the great benefits she derived from her afflictions ; and the comfortable hope she enter- tained of her future rest and felicity : — " You, my friend, who knew us both, and how we lived, must allow I have just cause to bewail my loss. I know it is common with others to lose a friend : but few can glory in the happiness of hav- ing lived with such a one ; and few, consequently, can lament the like loss. Who but must shrink at 188 LADT RACHEL EUSSBL. such a blow, till, by the mighty aid of the Holy Spirit, they let the gift of God, which he has put into their hearts, interpose ? O ! if I did stead- fastly believe, I could not be dejected : for I will not injure myself to say, I offer my mind any infe- rior consolation to supply this loss. No ; I most ■willingly forsake this world, this vexatious, trouble- some world ; in which I have no other business, than to rid my soul from sin, and secure my eternal interests ; to bear with jpatienoe and courage my eminent misfortunes, and ever hereafter to be above the smiles and frowns of it : and, having fin- ished the remnant of the work appointed me on earth, joyfully to wait for the heavenly jperfection in God's good time ; when, by his infinite mercy, I may be counted worthy to enter into the same place of rest and repose, where he is gone for whom I grieve." "The future part of my life will not, I expect, pass as perhaps I would choose. Sense has long enough been satisfied ; indeed so long, that I know not how to live by faith ; yet the pleasant stream, that fed it near fourteen years together, being gone, I have no sort of refreshment, but when I can repair to that living Fountain, whence all flows ; while I look not at the things which are seen, but at those which are not seen, expecting that day which will settle and compose all my tumultuous thoughts, in perpetual peace and quiet." lADY EACHBL EUSSBL. 189 " The consideration of the other world is not only very great, but in my small judgment, tlie only support under the greatest of afflictions that can befall us here. The enlivening heat of those glories is sufficient to animate and refresh us, in our dark passage through this world : and notwith- standing I am below the meanest of God's servants, and have not, in the least degree, lived answerably to those opportunities I have had ; yet my Media- tor is my judge, and he will not despise weak be- ginnings, 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 oif, if we com- mit our cause to him. " I strive to reflect how large my portion of gdod things has been : and though they are passed away, no moj'e 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 perfect ; among whom, my hope is, my loved lord is one ; and my often-repeated prayer to God is, that if I have a reasonable ground for that hope, it may give re- freshment 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 affec- tions upwards, and set my heart upon the ever- 190 LADY EAOHEL EUSSEL. satisfying perfections of God ; not starting at his darkest providences, but remembering continually, that either his glory, justice, or power, is ad- vanced 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 endeavor to suppress all wild imaginations, which a melancholy mind is apt to let in ; and to say, with the man in the Gospel, ' I believe ; help thou my unbelief.' " "It is the grace of God which 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 mournful ones ; and though I walk sadly through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, humbling myself under the mighty hand of God, who will save in the day of troublet He knows my sorrows, 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, when we consider that we shall not only rest, but live in regions of unspeakable bliss. This should lead ns sweetly through the dark passage of the world ; and suffer us to start at nothing we either meet with, or our fears suggest may happen to us." LADY EACHEL E TJ S S E L . 191 To Lady Essex she wrote as follows : — " I te- seeoh God one day to speak peace to our afflicted minds, and not to suffer us to be disappointed 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 dispensa- tions serve the end of his providence. They are ever beautiful, and must be good, and good to every one of us ; and even these dismal ones are so to us, if we can bear evidence to our own souls, that we are better for our afflictions ; which is often the case with those who suffer wrongfully. We may reasonably believe our friends have found that rest we yet but hope for ; and what better comfort can you or I desire, in this valley of the shadow of death we are walking through ? The rougher our path is, the more delightful and ravishing will be the great change." She survived- Lord Russel above forty years : and continued his widow to the end of her life. She died in the year 1Y23, in the eighty-seventh year of her age. Her continued hope and trust in HIM, who had been the staff of her life, and her support in affliction, is evidenced by the following declaration, made not long before the end of her days : " God has hot denied me the support of his Holy Spirit, in this my long day of calamity, but he has enabled me, in some measure, to rejoice in him as my portion for ever. He has provided 192 LADT EAOHBL EUSSBL. a remedy for all our griefs, by bis sure promises of another life ; where there is no death, nor any pain nor trouble, but fulness of joy, in the presence of him who made us, and who will love us for ever." SECTIOF II. JANE RATOLIFFB. Jajstb Ratclii-fe was born about the year 1600. Her extraordinary faith and piety render her a suit- able subject for these memoirs. In early life, she indulged herself in many of the follies and vanities of her time ; but being awak- ened to a sense of their fatal tendency, she re- nounced them ; and placed her affections on objects which alone can confer solid and durable enjoy- ment. We shall pass over the intermediate parts of her circumspect life, and come to the closing scene of it, when she appeared to be much raised above the love of life, and the fears of death. The following is an extract from her own expressions, on that solemn occasion. At the same time that they manifest her desire to be released from the sorrows and 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 194 JANB EATCLIFFE. see me with them, as I should be to see them about me ; and who would entertain me with unwearied delight. " I desire to die — because, while I live, I shall want the perfection of ray nature, and be as an estranged and banished child from my father's house. "I desire to die — ^because I wotild not live to offend so good a God, and grieve his Holj'- Spirit. For his loving-kindness is better than life, and he is abundant in mercy to me ; and the fear of displeas- ing him often lies as a heavy load upon my heart. " I desire to die — because this world is generally infected with the plague of sin, and I myself am tainted with the same disease : so that, while I live here, I shall be in danger of being infected, or of infecting others. And if this world hates me, be- cause I endeavor to follow goodness, how would it rejoice, if my foot should slip ! How woful would my life be to me, if I should give occasion to the world to triumph and blaspheme ! There are in my nature so many defects, errors, and transgres- sions, that I may say with David, 'Innumerable evils have compassed me about : my iniquities have taken hold on me, so that I ara not able to look up.' I therefore desire heaven for holiness, and to the end I may sin no more. " I desire to die — because nothing in this world can give me solid and durable contentment. "With regard to my children, I am not troubled; JANE EATCLIFFE. 195 for that God who has given them life and breath, and all they have, while I am living, can provide for them when I am dead. My God will be their God, if they be his : and if they be not, what com- fort would it be for me to live to behold it ! Life would be bitter to me, if I should see them dis- honor God, whom I so greatly love. " I fear not death — because it is but the sepai'a- tion of the soul from the body : and that is but the shadow of the body of death. Whereas, the sepa- ration 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 mighty 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 I shall find in death ; and death will cure me of all sorts of pain. Besides, Christ died a terrible death, to the end any kind of death might be blessed to me. And that God who has greatly loved me in- life, will not neglect me in death ; but will, by his Spirit, succor 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 princij)al mercies and blessings she had received from God: " How shall I praise God for my conversion ? for his word, both in respect of my affection to it, and 196 JANE EATOLIFI-B. the wonderful comforts I have had from it? for hearing my prayers ? for godly sorrow ? for fellow- ship 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 giving me some strength against my sins ? for preserving me from gross evils, both before and after my calling?" In her last sickness, which was of long continu- ance, she was deeply sensible of the dangers and miseries that attend our progress through life ; and often implored God to remove her into a better world, saying, in the words of David: "Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation ! Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me ! O Lord, make haste to help me !" And she was relieved in the tenderest man- ner : for her spirit departed from the body, when it was thought she had only fallen asleep. She died in the year 1638. SEOTI Olsr III. SIR ISAAC NE^VTON. SiE Isaac jSTk-vvton, a most celebrated English philosopher and mathematiciaa, and one of the greatest geniases that ever appeared iu the world, was descended from an ancient family in Lincoln- shire, 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 con- tents 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 reflection, 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 fa- vored by Queen Anne, and by George the First. The princess of Wales, afterwards queen-consort of England, who had a turn for philosophical inquiries, 198 SIE ISAAC NEWTON.. used frequently to propose questions to Hm. This princess had a great regard for him ; and often de- clared that she thought Jierself happy to live at the same time as he did, and to have the pleasure and advantage of his conversation. This eminent philosopher was remarkable for be- ing of a very meek disposition, and a great lover of peace. He would rather have chosen to- remain in obscurity, than to have the serenity of his days disturbed by those storms and disputes, which ge- nius and learning often draw upon those who are eminent for them. We find him reflecting on the controversy respecting his optic lectures, (in which he had been almost unavoidably engaged,) in the following terms : " I blamed my own imprudence, for parting with so real a blessing as my quiet, to run after a shadow." The amiable quality of modesty stands very con- spicuous in the character of this great man's mind and manners. He never spoke, either of himself or others, in such a manner as to give the most malicious censurers the least occasion even to sus- pect him of vanity. Ho 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 ex- cuse 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 persecution of the SIE ISAAC ISTEWTON. 19-9 N'on-conformists. He judged of men by their oon- duot : and the true schismatics, in his opinion, were the visions and the wicked. This hberahty of sen- timent did not spring from the want of rehgion ; for he was thoroughly persuaded of the truth of Revelation: and amidst the great variety of books, which he had constantly before him, that which he loved the best, and studied with the greatest appli- cation, 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 demonstrate the being of a God, and to illustrate his power and Avisdom. He also wrote an excellent discourse, to prove that the remarkable prophecy of Daniel's 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. Dod- dridge to the most interesting part of this great man's character, cannot be omitted on the present occasion. " According to the best information," says he, "whether public ot private, I could ever obtain, his firm faith in the Divine Revelation, dis- covered itself in the most genuine fruits of substan- tial virtue and piety; and consequently gives us the justest reason to conclude, that he is now rejoicing in the happy eifects of it, infinitely more than all the applause which his philosophical works have procured him, though they have commanded a fame lasting as the world." 200 SIE ISAAC KEWTOK. The disorder of -vvliioh he died, was, at times, at- tended with paroxysms so severe as to occasion large drops of sweat to run down his face. In these trying circumstances, he was never heard to utter the least complaint, nor to express the least impatience. He died in the eighty-fifth year of his age. In his princij)les, and conduct through life, he has left a strong and comfortable evidence, that the highest intellectual powers harmonize with reli- gion and virtue ; and that there is nothing in Chris- tianity but what will abide the scrutiny of the soundest and most enlarged understanding. Plow great and satisfactory a confirmation is it to the sincere, humble Christian, and what an in- surmountable barrier does it present to the infidel, to perceive, in the list of Christian believers, the exalted and vene'rable names of Bacon, Boyle, Locke, IS'ewton, Addison, Lj'ttleton, and Jones ! men who must be acknowledged to be ornaments of human nature, when we consider the wide com- pass of their abilities, the great extent of their leai'ning and knowledge, and their piety, their zeal for truth, and their beneficence. These emi- nent characters firmly adhered to the belief of Christianity, after the most diligent and exact researches into the life of its Founder, the au- thenticity of its records, the completion of its pro- p)becies, the sublimity of its doctrines, the purity of its precepts, and the arguments of its adver- saries. SECTION" IV. BISHOP BURNET. GiLBEET BuENET, 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 him- self closely to study, and acquired a great portion of learning and knowledge, which he seemed to have ready for all occasions. He travelled through France, Italy, and Holland; where he formed con- nections with many of the greatest persons of his time, by whom he was much respected for his ta- lents and virtues. At Amsterdam, he became ac- quainted with the leading men of the different per- suasions tolerated in the Netherlands, Calvinists, Arminians, Lutherans, Anabaptists, Brownists, Pa- pists, 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 severities on account of religious opinions. He was instrumental in promoting the Revolu- tion ; and lived in great favor with William and 9* 202 BISHOP ETJEKKT. Mary, and Queen Anne. Pie distinguished himself in the House of Lords, by declaring for moderate measures, with regard to the clergy who scrupled to take the oaths ; and for a toleration of the Pro- testant dissenters. He composed many works, which evince his desire to promote the cause of piety and virtue. " The History of his own Time," and " The History of the Reformation," have been much read ; and for the latter he received the thanks of both houses of Parliament. Plis account of Lord Rochester, is an elegant and interesting jDerformanoe ; and a striking display of the truth and excellence of the Christian religion. The last live 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 following senti- ments, solemnly expressed by him towards the con- clusion of his days, are so illustrative of the nature and power of true religion, and of its influence upon his own mind, that they claim a place in these m.emorials : " I shall conclude with recommending to all sorts of men, in the most solemn and serious manner, the study and practice of religion, as that which is the most important of all things, and which is both the light of the world, and the salt of the earth. "Nothing so opens our faculties and composes and directs the whole man, as an inward sense of God ; of his authority over us ; of the laws he has BISHOP BUENET. 203 set US ; of Ms eye ever upon us ; of his hearing our prayers ; assisting our endeavors ; watching over our concerns ; of his being to judge, and reward or punish us in another state according to what we Lave done in this. Nothing will give us such a detestation of sin, and such a sense of the good- ness of God, and of our obligations to holiness, as a right understanding and firm belief of the Chris- tian religion. " By living according to the rules of religion, a man becomes the wisest, the best, and the happi- est creature that he is capable of being. Honest industry, the employing of time well, a constant sobriety, an undefiled purity and chastity, with con- tinued serenity, are the best preservatives too of life and health : so that take a man as an indivi- dual, religion is his gnard, his perfection, his beau- ty, and his glory. This will make him a light in the world, shining brightly, and enlightening many round about him. "Thus, religion, if truly received and 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 men do not hve suitably to them ; if they have not a due influence upon their thoughts and their lives ? Men of bad Kves, with sound opinions, are self- 204 BISHOP BUENBT.' condemned, 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 pierformances, how good and useful soever when understood and rightly di- rected, are of little value when men rest on them, and think, because they do them, they have ac- quitted 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 heart ; sancti- fying and governing his whole deportment, his woi'ds 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 BISHOP BUENET. 205 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 mixtures 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 to a degree of pu- rity, he will find a nobler flame of life and joy growing up in him. Of this I write with a greater concern and emotion, because I have felt it to be the true, and, indeed, the only joy which runs through a man's heart and life. It is this which has been, for many years, my greatest support. I rejoice daily in it. I feel from it the earnest of that supreme joy which I want and long for ; and I am sure there is nothing else which can afford any true and compJete happiness." SEOTIOISr V. LORD KOOHKSTER. 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 favor with Charles the Second. He had very early an inclina- tion 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 proisensity ; and became corrupt in his princifiles, and depraved in his manners. He lost all sense of religions restraint ; and, finding it not convenient to admit the authority of laws which he was resolved not to obey, sheltered his wickedness behind infidelity. As he excelled in that noisy and licentious merri- ment which wine excites, his companions eagerly encouraged hina in excess, and he willingly in- dulged 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 LOED EOCHESTBE. 20^ Thus, in a course of drunken gayety, and gross sensuality, with seasons of study perhaps yet more criminal, witli an avowed contempt of all decency and order, a total disregard to every moral, 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 ex- hausted the fund of life, and had reduced himself to a state of weakness and decay. At this time he was led to an acquaintance with Dr. Burnet, to whom he laid open with great free- dom the tenor of his opinions and the course of his life ; and from whom he received such conviction of the reasonableness of moral duty, and the truth of Christianity, as, by the Divine blessing, pro- duced a total change both of his manners and opinions. Some philosophers of the present age will probably suppose, that his contrition and con- viction 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 him- self: but Dr. Burnet affirms, that he was "under no such decay as either darkened or weakened his understanding ; nor troubled with the sjoleen or vapors, or imder the power of melancholy." In proof of this assertion, the following letter is pro- duced ; in which nothing is omitted but some per- sonal compliments to the Doctor : 208 LOED EOCHBSTBE. " Woodstock Paek, Oxfordshire. "Mt Most Honoebd Db. Buen-et, " 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 rej)entance and amendment of life for the time to come ; or else, if the Lord please soon to put an end to my worldly being, that he would mercifully accept of my death-bed repentance ; and perform that promise he has been pleased to make, that at what time soever a sinner doth repent, he would receive him. Put up these prayers, most dear Doctor, to Almighty God, for your most obedient, languishing servant, " ROCHESTEE. "June 25, 1680." Soon after the receipt of this letter. Dr. Burnet visited him. Lord Rochester expressed to him in strong terms, the sense he had of his past life ; his sad apprehension for having so offended his Maker and dishonored his Redeemer ; the horrors he had gone through ; the sincerity of his repentance ; and the earnestness with which his mind was turned to LOED EOCHBSTBE. 209 call on God, and on his crucified Saviour, to have mercy upon him. Discoursing one day of the manner of his life from his youth, and bitterly upbraiding himself for his manifold transgressions, he exclaimed, " O blessed God 1 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 ?" Abou.t the middle of his sickness, he said : " Shall the unspeakable joys of heaven be conferred on me ? 0, mighty Saviour ! never, but through thy infinite love and satisfaction ! 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 m.ine unbelief" He expressed great esteem for the Holy Scrip- tures, and resolved that if God should spare him, he would frequently read them, and meditate upon jthem : "for, having spoken to his heart, he acknowledged that all the seeming absurdities 210 LOED EOCHBSTBE. and contradictions, ■which men of corrupt and reprobate judgment supposed to be in them, ■vveve vanished : and now that he loved and re- ceived 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 res- cued from him, that thus troubles me ; but the goodness of God frees me from all my spiritual enemies." He often called for his children, and spoke to them with a warmth of feeling that can scarcely be described. " See," said he to Dr. Burnet, " how good God has been to me, in giving me so many blessings ! and yet I have been a most ungracious and unthankful creature!" Pie expressed much concern for the j)ious education of his children ; and " wished his son might never be a wit ; one of those wretched creatures," as he explained it, "who pride themselves in denying the bfeing or the providence of God, and in ridiculing religion ; but that he might become an honest and a pious man,* LOED EOCHESTEE. 211 by •wMch means only he could be the suiDport and blessing of his family." He gave a strict charge to the persons in whose custody his papers were, to burn all his obscene and filthy pictures, "which were so notoriously scan- dalous ; and all his profane and lewd writings, by which he had so highly oifended, and shamed, and blasphemed, that holy religion into which he had been baptized. He was ready to make restitution, to the utmost of his power, to all persons whom he had injured; and heartily forgave all the wrongs which he had sustained, hoping that he should meet with the like free forgiveness from God. 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 avenging God, and will visit you for your sins ; and will, I hope, in mercy, touch your conscience, sooner or later, as he has done mine. You and I have been friends and sinners together a great while, and therefore I am the more free with you. "We have been all mistaken in our conceits and opinions : our persua- sions have been false and groundless : therefore God grant you repentance." And seeing the same gentleman the next day, he said, " Perhaps you were disobliged by my plainness with you yester- 212 LOED EOCHESTBE. day. 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 was very desirous to testify to the world his repentance for his past misconduct ; and to make every reparation in his power for the mischief, which, by his example and writings, he had occa- sioned. I~Ie sent messages, which well became a dying penitent, to some of his former friends. He strictly enjoined the pious persons who attended him during his last sickness, to publish any thing concerning him that might be a means to reclaim others ; praying to God, that, as his life had done much hurt, so his death might do some good. He caused the following solemn declaration to be drawn uj), which he signed with his own hand : " For the benefit of all those whom I may have drawn into sin, by my example and encourage- ment, I leave to the world this my last declaration, which I deliver in the presence of the great God, who knows the secrets of all hearts, and before whom I am preparing to be judged ; that, from the bottom of my soul, I detest and abhor the whole course of my former wicked life ; that T think I can never sufficiently admire the goodness of God, who has given me a true sense of my pernicious opinions and vile practices, by which I have hitherto lived, without hope, and without God in the world ; have been an open enemy to LOED EOCHESTBE. 213 Jesus Christ, doing the utmost despite to the holy Spirit of Grace ; and that the greatest testimony of my charity to such is, to warn them in the name of God, and as tlaey 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. ROCHESTBE. " Declared and signed in the presence of " At\N Rochestee, "ROBEET PaESONS." His sufferings were, at times, very great ; but he did not repine under them. In one of his sharpest fits of pain, looking up to heaven, he said :. " God's holy will be done. I bless him for all he does to me." He expressed his willingness to live, or to die, as it should please Divine Providence. " If," said he, " God should spare me yet a little longer time here, I hope to bring glory to his name, propor- tionable to the dishonor I have done him, in my whole life past : and particularly, by endeavors to convince others of the danger of their condition, if they continue impenitent; and by telling them' how graciously God. has dealt with me." 214 LOBD EOCHESTEE. Near the close of life, he was often heard to pray fervently. ITe 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 my Saviour !" Thus died, in the thirty-third year of his age, the celebrated earl of Rochester; a memorable instance of the goodness and mercy of God, and of the power of his grace to purify and redeem the most corrupt and obdurate offender. Froni this case, and from many other instances, the truly penitent sinner, though his sins have been as scar- let or as cri.mson, may derive hope that God will, even in Iiis greatest extremity, hear his prayers, and accept his repentance : but none should fire- sume on the Divine Mercy, by deferring their amendment till they are brought to the bed of sickness and death. They may suddenly be taken away; they may not have their understanding in the time of illness ; they may be deceived with false hopes of recovery ; their pains of body may not admit of that state of mind which is proper for the great work of repentance ; or, they may have become so hardened by the habits of sin, that they 'may die, as many have died, without a proper sense of their condition. May the goodness and LOED EOCHBSTEE. 215 forbearance of God lead to repentance and amend- ment of life, in the time of health. ! We shall then, at the approach of death, have no guilty tumults of mind : no dismal forebodings of the future. We shall bear our affliction with patience and resigna- tion : and, with joyful hope, commit our spirits into the hands of a faithful and merciful Creator. For a further account of Lord Rochester, we refer the reader to a small Yolurae published by Dr. Burnet, entitled, " Some Passages of the Life and Death of John, Earl of Rochester ;" " a book, which," as Dr. Johnson says, " the critic ought to read for its elegance, the jDhilosopher for its argu- ments, and the saint for its piety." CHAPTER VII. Queen Maet — Hbeman Bobehaatb — Joseph Addisoit — Ami Batnaed — Elizabeth Eowe — Doctor "Watts. SECTIOlSr I. QUEEN MARY. Maet, queen of Great Britain, and consort of King William the Third, was the daughter of James the Second, and was born in the year 1661. She appeared to be happily disposed from very early life, being good and gentle before she was capable of knowing that it was her duty to be so. This temper continued with her through the whole progress of her childhood. She might need 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, she pos- sessed great understanding, and a mind cultivated with useful learning and knowledge. She was married in the sixteenth year of her age, QUEEN MAEY. 217 to the prince of Orange, and went to reside in Hol- land, where she conducted herself with so much wisdom and goodness, as to gain universal esteem and aifection. But that which was, beyond all comparison, her greatest ornament and possession, was a truly devout and religious temper; which made her look with indiiference on the honors and splendor with which she was surrounded, and seek for her highest enjoyment in doing good, in peace of mind, and in the hope of a better life. In proof of her uncommon merit, we shall here insert a short declaration concerning her, made by her husband, king William, whom she tenderly loved, and w-ho best knew her excellence, and his own great loss in being deprived of her. To Doc- tor Tenison, who endeavored 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 perceived 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, nnder some of the darkest clouds of afliction and distress: in the present instance of queen Mary, the virtue and preserving nature of the same Di- vine principle, is evidenced amidst the magnificence of a court, and the sunshine of worldly prosperity. It is, indeed, a principle of universal agency; adapt- 10 218 QUEEN MAET. ed to all ranks of men, and to every allotment of Providence ; a sure preservative when things are smiling around us, and a sovereign remedy for, or support under, all the calamities of life. This good queen spent a great part of her time in perusing the holy Scriptures, and other religious hooks. By a letter to her father, written in early life, in support of the Protestant faith, she ajspears to have been thoroughly grounded and established in the principles of the Reformation. Bishop Bar- net says, that " although he had a high opinion of the princess's good understanding, before he saw this letter, yet the letter surprised him, and gave him an astonishing joy, to see so young a person, all on a sudden, without 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 import- ant charge of government. Doctor Tillotson, arch- bishop of Canterbury, said, that " he was in great admiration at the proofs he knew the queen gave of her knowledge, in the weighty affairs of state, in the kuig's absence, when the executive part of the government was in her hands." Her compassion and bounty to the poor and af- flicted, and those who stood in need of her liberal- ity, were very eminent, and such as corresponded with her exalted station, and the abundant sources of relief to which she had access. She took care to have a just account both of the worthiness and^^je QUEEN MAET. 219 necessities of those who were candidates for her liberality ; and, in the conducting of her charity, showed as much exactness, attention, and diligence, as if she had no cares of a higher nature. But what crowned all, was her exact 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 hor- ror ; and presented her with so gloomy a prosjDect, as filled her mind with melancholy refiections. She was very sensibly touched, when she heard that some, who pretended to much zeal for the crown, and the revolution, seemed thence to think they had a sort of right to be indulged in their licen- tiousness and irregularities. She often said, " Can a blessing be expected from such hands, or on any- thing that must jjass 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 pre- 220 QUEEN MAEY. tended to religion, and the deadness and disunion 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 anything that looked like a miscarriage 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 melan- choly events came from the hand of Providence^ she said, that " though there was no occasion for complaint or anger, upon these cross occurrences, yet there was just cause of grief, since God's hand was to be seen so particularly in them." In her brightest seasons, she did not suffer her- self to be lulled into security, nor did she withdraw her dependence upon God. In the pleasures of life, she maintained a true indifference as to their continuance ; and seemed to think of parting with thern, in so easy a manner as plainly showed how little possession they 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 occa- sion, she possessed great quietude and resignation ; and said, " that though she did not pray for death, QUEBN MAET. 221 yet she could neither wish nor pray against it. She left that to God, and referred herself to the disposal of Providence. If she did not wish for death, yet she did not fear it." As this was the state of her mind when she viewed that event at some distance, so she 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 apprehended from her disorder, (which was the small-pox,) she calmly said : " I have been instructed how very hazardous a thing it is, to rely upon a death-bed 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 was very trying to nature, she appeared to feel no inward depression or discouragement of mind. A willingness to die, and an entire resigna- tion to the will of God, accompanied her to the closing scene ; in the near aiDproach of which she declared, that " she experienced the joys of a good conscience, and the power of religion giving her supports, which even the last agonies could not shake." Thus died this most excellent princess ; and, no doubt, passed from an earthly to a heaven- ly crown, " a crown of glory that shall never fade The contemplation of so peaceful and happy con- 222 QUEEN MAEY. elusions of life, as this, and others which are men- tioned in the present work, is sufficient, at times, to elevate the. soul, and to make all the glories and en- joyments of this transient scene sink into nothing. Ah! these are favored, precious moments, when the Divine Power of Religion breaks in upon us, dissolves the enchantment of the world, dissipates the mist of vain doubts and speculation, and raises a fervent aspiration, that whatever may be our al- lotment through life, we may die the death of the righteous, and the love of God be our portion for ever! SECTIOISr II. BOERHAAVB. Heeman Boeehaave, one of the greatest phy- sicians, and best of men, was born in Holland, in the year 1668. This iUustrious person, whose name has been spread throughout the world, and who left at his death above two hnndred thousand pounds sterling, was, at his first setting out in life, obliged 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 knowledge and learning of this great man, however uncommon, hold in his character but the second place ; his virtue was yet much more un- common than his literary attainments. He was an admirable example of temperance, fortitude, humil- ity, and devotion. His piety, and profound sense of his dependence on God, were the basis of all his virtues, and the principle of his whole conduct. He was too sensible of his weakness to ascribe anything to himself, or to conceive that he could subdue pas- sion, or withstand temptation by his own natural 224 BOEEHAAVE. power: he attributed every good thought and every laudable action to the Father of Goodness. Being once asked by a friend, who had often admired his patience under great provocations, whether he had ever been under the influence of anger, and by what means he had so entirely sup- pressed that impetuous and ungovernable passion ; he answered, with the utmost frankness and sin- cerity, 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 n editation. This, ho often told his friends gave h ta. spirit and vigor in the business of the day ; a' 1 this he therefore commended as the best rule ol ife : for nothing, he knew, can support the soul i. i 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 favor. 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 obeclienoe to the doctrine, and a diligent imitation of the example, of our blessed Saviour, he often cleclared to be the foun- dation of ti'ue tranquility. He was liberal to the distressed, but without ostentation. He ofl;en obliged his friends in such a manner, that they BOEEHAATB. 225 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 triiled with or neg- lected, would one day be required at the hand of the physician. He called the poor his best patients: for God, said he, is their paymaster. In conversa- tion, he was cheerful and instructive ; and desirous of promoting every valuable end of social inter- course. He never regarded calumny and detrac- tion, (for Boerhaave himself had enemies,) nor ever thought it necessary to confute them. " They are sparks," said he, " which if you do not blow them, will go out of themselves. The surest remedy against scandal, is, to live it down by pei-severance in well-doing ; and by praying to God, that he would cure the distempered minds of those who tradace and injure us." About the middle of the year 173Y, he felt the 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 necessary cares of life, nor forgot the proper preparations for death. He related to a friend, with great concern, that once his patience so far gave way to extremity of pain, that, after having lain fifteen hours in exqui- site tortures, he prayed to God that he might be set free by death. His friend, by way of consola- 10* 226 BOBEHAATE. tion, answered, that he thought such wishes, when forced by continued and excessive torments, un- avoidable 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 ad- vanced nearer, he was so far from terror or confu- sion, that he seemed even less sensible of pain, and more cheerful under his torments. He died, much honored and lamented, in the "ZOth year of his age. In contemplating the character of this excellent 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 abilities to the bounty, and all his goodness to the grace of God. " May his example," says Dr. Johnson, his biogra- pher, " extend its influence to his admirers and followers 1 May those who study his writings, im- itate his life; and those who endeavor after his knowledge, aspire likewise to his piety !" SECTION" III. JOSEPH ADDISON. Joseph Addison, a celebrated English writer, was born at Milston, in Wiltshire, in the year 1672. About the age of fifteen, he was entered at Queen's college, Oxford, where, by his fine parts and great application, he made a surprising proficiency in classical learning. Before he left the university, he was 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 great- est, and the most learned of his contemporaries. He travelled into Italy, where he made many useful observations, and prepared materials for some of his literary works. On his return to England, he was chosen one of the lords commissioners for trade. In IVOQ, he was appointed secretary to the lord lieutenant of Ireland; and in 1717, was ad- vanced to the high office of secretary of state. His writings have been of great use to the world; and his "Evidences of the Christian Re- 228 JOSEPH ADDISON. ligion," not the least so. Dr. Johnson, in delin- eating his 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, hut taught it to others ; and, from his time, it has been generally subservient 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 character above all Greek, above all Roman fame. As a teacher of wisdom, he may be confidently followed. His religion has nothing in it enthusiastic or superstitious : he ap- pears neither weakly credulous, nor wantonly scep- tical : 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 I'eader his real interest, the care of pleasing the Author of his being." Of his integrity in discharging the duties of his oiRce, there is a striking proof recorded. When he |Was secretary in Ireland, he had materially pro- moted -the interest of an individual, who offered him, in return, a bank-note of three hundred ])ounds, and a diamond ring of the same value. T'lese he strenuously refused to accept, and wrote to the person as follows : " And now, sir, believe me, when I assure you, I never did, nor ever will. JOSEPH ADDISON. 229 on any pretence whatever, take more than the stated and customary fees of my otSce. 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 to- wards another life. The following lines of Addison are sweetly expressive of the peace and pleasure which he enjoyed, in contemplating his future exist- ence : " 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 supports me under all my afliotions. I can look at disajDpointments and misfortunes, pain and sickness, death itself, with in- difference, 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 sor- rows." The virtue of this excellent man shone brightest at the point of death. After a long and manly, but vain strugg'^j with his distempers, he dismissed his physicians, and with them all hopes of life ; but with his hopes of life he dismissed not his concern for the living. He sent for Lord Warwick, a youth, nearly related to hira, and finely accomplished, but irregu- 230 JOSEPH ABDISON. lar in conduct and principle ; on whom his pious in- structions and example had not produced the de- sired eiFect. Lord Warwick came ; but life now glimmering in the socket, the dying friend was silent. After a decent and proper pause, the youth said; "Dear sir I you sent for me: I believe, and hope you have some commands : I shall hold them most dear." May the reader not only feel the re- ply, but retain its impression 1 Forcibly grasping tlie 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 stingless death I SECTIOIT IV. ANN BAYNARD. Ann Batnaed was descended from an ancient and respectable family, and was born in the year 1672. She possessed strong powers of mind; un- derstood the learned languages ; and made con- 'siderable acquisitions in the arts and sciences. She took great delight in study, and seemed to know no bounds in the pursuit of learning and knowl- edge. But when she formed a serious estimate of things, and compared the highest accomplishments of this life, with the possession of Divine peace, and the hope of eternal happiness, her extreme love of learning, and of the distinctions that, accom- pany 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 knowledge of Christ revealed in the Gospel, as our only Lord and Saviour." " What avails," said she, " Solo- mon's skill in the works of nature, if by it we are not brought to see the God of nature? What advantage ii it to be so learned in astronomy, or 232 ANN BAYNABD. the knowledge of the heavens, that we can foretell 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 frac- tion, 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 splendor. Having expeiiencffd the happiness of a devout and pious life, she had no relish for pleasures of a different nature. She had a high ven- eration for the Author of her being, and made it her great business to promote his honor and glory. She observed, with deep concern, the errors, fol- lies, and vices of the age ; and was not only im- portunate 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 labors was of short duration ; for she was only twenty-five years of age when she died. SECTION V. ELIZABETH ROWE. Elizabeth Rowe, tlie daughter of a very re- spectable dissenting minister, was born at Ilchester, in Somersetshire, in the year 1674. She discovered early symptoms of fine parts : and as her strongest bent was to poetry, she began to write verses at twelve years of age. She possessed "uncommon elegance of mind, and exquisite sensibility. She also manifested a pious and devout disposition, even when she was very young. It was a peculiar happiness to her, that, early in life, she enjoyed the friendship of the pious Bishop Ken ; at whose re- quest she wrote a paraphrase on the thirty-eighth chapter of Job. Her shining merit, and various accomplishments, procured her many admirers : but the person who obtained her in marriage, was Thomas Rowe, a gentleman of uncommon parts and learning, and of great worth. The connection 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 234 ELIZABETH EOWE. which she composed upon his death, is one of her best poems. After the decease of her husband, the world appeared in her view with less attraction than ever. She retired to her estate at Frome, where she spent the remainder of her days. In this re- treat, the i-eligious temper of her mind increased ; and here she wrote the greater part of her works. Her boolc, entitled " Devout Exercises of the Ileart, in Meditation and Soliloquy, Praise and Prayer," has been much read and commended. This work she sealed up, and directed it to be de- livered 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 con- tains so much of a devout and Christian spirit, that we shall insert a part of it in this collection. "The 'Reflections' were occasionally written, and only for my own improvement ; but I am not without hope that they may have the same 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 I am sleeping in the dust, these soliloquies should kindle a flame of Divine love, even in the heart of the lowest and most despised Christian, be the glory given to the great Spring of all grace and benignity ! ELIZABETH KOWE. 235 " I have now done with mortal things, and all to come is vast eternity ! Eternity ! how transport- ing 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 I'e- freshed with the emanations of original life and joy, I shall hear the voice of uncreated harmony, 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 myself in every view I can take, I fly to the righteousness and atonement of my great Redeemer, for pardon and salvation : this is my only consolation and hope. Enter not into judgment, O Lord, with thy servant ; for in thy sight shall no flesh be justified. Through the blood of the Lamb, I hope for an entire victory over the last enemy ; and that, be- fore this comes to you, I shall have reached the celestial heights ; and, while you are reading these lines, I shall be adoring before the throne of God ; where faith shall be turned into vision, and these languishing desires satisfied with the full fruition of immortal love. Amen." SECTION VI. DOCTOR WATTS. Isaac Watts, a learned and eminent dissenting minister, was born at Southampton, in the year 16'74, of parents wlio were distinguished by their piety and virtue. He possessed uncommon genius, and gave early joroofs of it. He received ai very liberal education, which was rendered highly bene- ficial to him, by his own unwearied efforts to im- prove himself. After the most serious deliberation, he determined to devote his life to the ministry ; of the importance of which office he had a deep and awful sense. He labored very diligently to promote the instruction and hajjpiness of the people under his care : and, by his Christian conduct and amiable disposition, greatly endeared himself to them. Soon after he had undertaken the pastoral office, his health sustained a severe shock, by a painful and dangerous illness ; from which he recovered 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. DOCTOE WATTS. 237 For four years, he was wholly prevented from dis- charging the public offices of his station. Though this long interval of sickness was, no doubt, very trying to his active mind, yet it proved ultimately a blessing ; for it drew upon him the particular notice of Sir Thomas Abney, a very pious and wor- thy man, who, from motives of friendship, invited him into his family ; in vifhich he continued to the end of his life ; and, for the long space of thirty-six years, was treated with uniform kindness, attention, and respect. Dr. Johnson's judicious account of Watts, ex- hibits him, both as a man and a writer, in a very pleasing light. We shall select from it a few strik- ing passages : " This excellent man was, by his natural temper, quick of resentment ; but, by his established and habitual practice, he was gentle, modest, and in- offensive. 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 annual revenue; and for children, he condescended to lay aside the scholar, the phi- losopher, and the wit, to write little poems of devo- tion, 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 pui-ity of character, or such monuments of laborious piety. 238 DOOTOE WATTS. He has provided instruction for all ages, from those who are lisping their iirst lessons, to the enlight- ened readers of Malbranohe and Locke. His ' Im- provement 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, con- verted to theology. As piety predominated in his mind, it is diffused over his works. Under his di- rection it may be truly said, that philosophy is sub- servient'to evangelical instruction: it is difficult to read a page without learning, or at least, wishing to be beiter." The virtue of this good man eminently appeared, in the happy state of his mind, under great pains and wes,kness of body, and in the improvement which he derived from them. Of those seasons of affliction, he says, with a truly elevated mind and thankful heai't : " I am not afraid to let the world know, that amidst the sinkings of life and nature, Cliristianity and tlie Gospel were my support. Amidst all the violence of my distemper, and the tiresome months of it, I thank God, I never lost sight of reason or religion, though sometimes I had much difficulty to preserve the machine of animal nature in such order, as regularly to exercise either the man or the Christian." The sweet neaoe of conscience he enjoyed, under these trying circumstances, and the ra- tional and Christian foundation of his hope and trust in the Divine Goodness, are beautifully DOCTOE WATTS. 239 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 Eeign through the realms of conscience; all within Lies peaceful, all composed. "Es 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 sunbeams, hid behind the clouds, Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance CleaTing 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 I This is my rock Of firm support, my shield of sure defence Against infernal arrows. E-ise, my soul ! Put on thy courage : here's the Hving spring Of joys divinely sweet and ever new, A peaceful conscience, and a smiling Heav'n. " My God, permit a creeping worm to say, ' Thy Spirit knows I love thee 1 — Worthless wretch, , To dare to love a God I — 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 1 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 1" 240 DOCTOE "WATTS. "When his sufferings were, in some degree, alle- viated, what excellent effects were produced in his mind ! How was his heart enlarged with love and gratitude to God ! and in what pathetic language did he pour out his spirit I " Almighty Power, I lore thee ! blissful name, My healer God I and may my inmost heart Loye and adore for ever 1 '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 nand of mercy is not short to save, JTor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf To mortal cries. It noticed all my groans, And sighs, and long complaints, with wise delay, Though painful to the sufFrer ; and thy hand In proper moment brought desired relief." And now, how amiable does he appear, when the shadows of the evening were stretchmg over him ! Two or three years before his decease, the active and sprightly powers of his nature gradually 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 down with comfort at night, not being solicitous whether I awake in this world or another." And again : " I should be glad to read more ; j^et not in order to be further con- fi:-mcd in the truth of the Christian religion, or in the truth of its promises; for I believe them enough to venture an eternitj'' upon them." When he was almost worn out, and broken down DOC TOE WATTS. 241 by his infirmities, he said, in conversation with a friend ; " I remembei- an aged minister used to ob- serve, that 'the most learned and knowing Chris- tians, when they come to die, have only the same plain promises of the gospel for their support, as the common and unlearned :' and so, I find it. It is the plain promises of the gospel that are my sup- port; and, I bless God, they are plain promises, that do not require much labor and pains to under- stand them." At times, when he found his spirit tending to im- patience, and ready to complain that he could only lead a mere animal life, he would check himself thus : " The business of a Christian is, to bear the will of God, as well as to do it. If I were in health, I ought to be' doing it, and now it is my duty to bear it. The best thing in obedience, is a regard to the will of God ; and the way to that is, to have our inclinations and aversions as much mortified as we can." 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 expire(3 in the seventy-fifth year of his age, 11 CHAPTER VIII. Iadt Elizabeth Hastings — H. Housman — Doctob DODDEIUaB. SECTIOISr I. LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. In the life, sufferings, and death, of Lady Eliza- beth Hastings, we have a lively instance of the power and support of religion. An ingenuous temper, a quickness of understand- ing, a benevolent spirit, a flexibility of nature, and a solemn sense of Divine things, "were observable in her tender age ; and, in the dangerous ascent of life, her feet were guided and preserved in the paths of rectitude and goodness; so that she wag not only free from the stain of vice in her rising years, but superior to the world, and its 'vain and trifling amusements. Through the whole course of her time, her lamp shone brightly ; and in ma- ture age, diffused its light and influence in a wide extent around her. LADY ELIZABETH HASTIITGS. 243 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 especial one was that of the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow ; the needy, and him that had no helper ; the lame, the halt, and the blind. These objects excited her most tender com- passion. She participated in their suiferings ; 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, endeavored to' cheer and encourage 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 honor, 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 retirement, to the contemplation of h'^- own being, and of that Supreme Power vs'hich bestowed it. Without the learning of schools, or knowledge of a long course of arguments, she went on in an uninterrupted course of piety and virtue ; and added to the se^ .244 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. verity and privacy of the last age, all the freedom and ease of this. The language and mien of a court she was possessed of in a high degree ; but the simplicity and humble thoughts of a cottage, were her more welcome entertainments. She was a female philosopher, who did not only live up to the resignation of the most retired lives of the ancient sages, but also to the schemes and plans which they thought beautiful, though inimitable. This lady was the most exact economist, without appearing busy ; the most strictly virtuous, with- out 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 suiferings from this cause, and even under the trying operation, her religious fortitude and seren- ity of mind did not forsake her. The resignation of her spirit to the dispensations of Divine Provi- dence, is strongly marked by the following expres- sions, 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 night subseque.—^ to the operation did not afford her much sleep, but it was a night of celes- tial 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. 245 deliverance ; for the liountiM provisions he had made for all the wants of her soul and body ; and, in a word, for all his blessings conferred iijjon 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 extinguished 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 manner : " Lord ! what is it that I see ? O, the greatness of the glory that is revealed in me ! that is before me !" So joyful appears to have been her entrance into the kihgdom 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 have, in some degree, experienced it. And when they are just entering upon the promised land, they are some- times favored to have the splendor of the eternal day dawn upon them, and to shine as through the 246 LADT ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 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 triumj)h. What a rich re- ward for all the crosses and conflicts of this pro- bationary scene ! and how animating a source of encouragement, during our pilgrimage, to rise above, and look beyond, all the troubles of time ! SECTION--II. H. HOUSMAN. Theee 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^lYll, when her diary begins, to IVSS, 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 was drawn up by a person who attended her throughout. From the time of her first seizure, she was exer- cised with very violent pains, without any intermis- sion, till- her death ; such as, she would often say, she thought she could not have borne : " but," said she, " God is good ; verily he is good to me ! I have found him a good and gracious God to me all my days." 248 H. HOUSMAN. When recovering from extreme pain, she said : " God is good ; I have found him so ; and though he slay me, yet I will trust in him. These' pains make me love my Lord Jesus the better. O they put me in mind of what he suffered, to purchase salvation for my poor soul ! Why for me. Lord ! why for me, the greatest of sinners ? Why for me, who so long refused the rich 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 jn 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 honor and glory, he will spare me a little longer ; if not, I am wholly resigned to the will of God. I am content to stay here, as long as he has any thing for me to do, or to suffer ; and I am will- ing to go, if it be my Father's good pleasure. H. HOUSMAN. 249 Therefore be content, and say, ' It is the Lord ; let him do what seemeth to him good.' '\ To a jjerson 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 mis- take me not ; there must be a life and conversation 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 honors, 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 thou- sands of gold and silver lying by me, what could they do for me now I am dying ? Take the advice of a depai'ting friend who wishes you well. Do not set your aifections on riches, or on any thing here below. Remember, death will come in a little while, whether you are ready or imready, 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 it round her cold hands, she thanked her for it, and said :" O, how many mercies I have ! I want 11* 250 H. HOUSMAlir. 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 suj)- 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 delights to afflict his children : it is at all times for our profit. I can say, it has been good for me to be afflicted ; it has enabled me to discern things, ■which, when I was in health, I could not perceive. It has made me see more of the vanity and empti- ness of this 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 loving and good to me ; and I thank you for it kindly : and now I desire you freely to resign me to God. If God sees it best to prolong my stay here upon earth, I am willing to stay ; or, if he sees it best to take me to himself, I am willing to go. I am will- ing to be, and to bear, what may be most for his glory." The evening before she died, she found death H. HOtrSMAN. 251 stealing upon her ; and, feeling her own pulse, said : " Well, it will be but a little while before my work in this world will be finished. Then I shall have done with prayer. My whole employment in heaven will be praise and love. Here, I love God but faintly, yet, I hope, sincerely ; but there it will be perfectly. I shall behold his face in righteous- ness ; for I am thy servant. Lord ! bought with blood, with precious blood. Christ died to pur- chase the life of my soul. A little while, and then I shall be singing that sweet song, ' Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, he unto him that sit- teth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever.' " With smiles on her face, and transports of joy she often said : " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ! Why tarry the wheels of thy chariot ? O, blessed convoy ! come and fetch my soul, to dwell with God, and Christ, and perfect spirits for ever and ever. When I join that blessed society above, my pleasures will never end. O, the glory that shall be set on the head of faith and love !" A few minutes before her departure, finding her- self going, she desired to be lifted up. When this was done, she cheerfully said : " Farewell sin ! fare- well pains !" and so finished her course with joy. SECTION III. DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. Philip Doddeidge was born in London, in th yeai- 1702. His parents, who were persons o: great worth, brought him up in an early know! edge of rehgion ; but he had the misfortune to los them before he was fourteen years old. This oil cumstanee excited in his mind very serious reflec tions, which, however, were not wholly of gloomy nature ; for he expressed a devout, am even a cheerful trust in the protection of the Go( of Mercies, the universal Parent of mankind. He diligently Imjjroved his time, and was ans ious to be daily advancing in knowledge, piety, vii tue, and usefulness. He possessed strong power of mind, and, by unwearied application, acquired large fund of sound and elegant learning. Hi publications, which are chiefly on religiouii sub jeots, have been eminently useful to the world By his literary acquisitions, his amiable disposition and his desire to imbue the young mind witl knowledge and virtue, he was qualified, in a peon liar manner, to become the instructor of youth and for many years he superintended a very re DOCTOE DODDEIDGB. 263 spectable academy. As the pastor of a congrega- tion, he manifested a sincere and zealous regard for the happiness of the people under his care, by ■whom he was greatly honored and beloved. He possessed many virtues; but ^he prime and leading feature of his soul, was devotion. He was very solicitous to preserve and cultivate an habitual sense of the Supreme Being ; to maintain and in- crease the ardor of religion in his heart; and to prepare himself, by devout exercises, for the im- portant labors of his station. Nor was it to his secret retirements that his piety was limited : it was manifested in every part of the day, and ap- peared 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 philosophy, history, anatomy, or other subjects not immediately theo- logical, he would endeavor to graft some religious instructions upon them, that he might raise the minds of his pupils to devotion, as well as to knowl- edge ; 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- tures. No one could more strongly feel that the love of God must be united with love to man. Nor was this a principle that rested in kind wishes, and pathetic feelings for the happiness of others, but it was manifested in the most active exertions 254 DOOTOE DODDBIDGE. for their welfare. ISTo scheme of doing good \y£ ever suggested to him, into which he did not entc with ardor. But the generosity of hia mind w£ the most displayed, when any plans of propagatin religion, and of spreading the gospel among thos who were strangers to it, were proposed. In everj thing of this kind, he was always ready to take th lead, and was ardent in endeavoring to inspire hi friends with the same spirit. He was of a weak and delicate bodily oonstitr tion; and a severe cold which he caught about th forty-eighth year of his age, brought on a consum]; tion of the lungs. The nearer he approached to hi dissolution, the more plainly was observed his cor tinual improvement in a spiritual and heavenly tena per. Indeed, he seemed to have risen above th world, and to be daily breathing after immortality This disposition of his mind was ardently exjDressec in several of his letters ; and it is manifest from hi will, which was made at this time, and is preface( in the following language: "Whereas it is custom ary on these occasions, to begin with commending the soul into the hands of God, through Christ; '. do it, not in mere form, but with sincerity and joy esteeming it my greatest happiness, that I an taught and encouraged to do it, by that glorioui gospel, which, having most assuredly believed it, ] have spent my life in preaching to others; anc which I esteem an infinitely greater treasure thai all my little worldly store, or possessions ten thou sand times greater than mine." DOCTOR DODDEIDGE. 255 Having made trial of the "waters of Bristol, and his health still continuing more and more to decline, he was advised by his physicians and friends, as the last resort in so threatening a disorder, to remove to a warmer climate. He accordingly went to Lis- bon. His resignation to the Divine disposal is strongly marked in a letter, which he wrote soon after his arrival there. After mentioning his great weakness and danger, he added : " ISTevertheless, 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 congre- gation, inform them of my circumstances, and as* sure them, that I cheerfully submit myself to God. If I desire life may be restored, it is chiefly that it may be employed in serving Christ among them. I am enabled, by faith, to look upon death as an enemy that shall be destroyed ; and can cheerfully leave my dear Mrs. Doddrige a widow in a strange land, if such be the appointment of our Heavenly Father. I hope I have done my duty; and the Lord do as seemeth good in his sight." Change of climate did not produce the 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, vigor, and joy of mind, which he had felt and expressed through the whole of his illness. The only pain he 256 DOCTOE DODDEIBGB. Lad in the thouglit of dying, was the fear of that grief and distress which his wife would suffer from his removal. To his children, his congregation, and his friends in general, he desired to be remembered in the most affectionate manner ; nor did he, in the effusions of his pious benevolence, forget the family where he lodged, or his own servant. Many de- vout sentiments and aspirations were uttered by him : but the heart of his wife was too much affect- ed with his approaching change, to be able to recol- lect them distinctly. Though he died in a foreign land, and, in a certain sense, among strangers, his decease was embalmed with many tears."* * A judicious life of this excellent man, written by Dr. Kippie, 13 prefixed to the first volume of Dr. Doddridge's Family Expositor. CHAPTER IX. Louis, Duke of Oeleahs— Soame Jenyns— Lord Lttteltos- — Jonas Hanvat — Anthony Benezet — James Heetey — Altamoht, ob the Death oe the Libeeiinb. SECTION I. LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. LoTJis, DUKE OF Oeleans, first prince of the blood royal of France, and highly distinguished for piety and learning, was boru at Versailles, in the year 1703. He was the son of Philip, duke of Orleans, regent of France, and of Mary Prances of Bourbon. He discovered, in his very childhood, a reverence for religion, a shining genius, and an en- larged understanding. At an early age he became sensible of the vanity of titles, pre-eminence, and all the splendor of life. He proposed to himself a new mode of conduct, which he afterwards pursued, di- viding Ms time between the duties peculiar to his rank, the exercises of a Christian, and the studies which improve the mind. He was, in every re- 258 LOUIS, DUKE OF OELEANS. speot, a pattern of self-denial, of piety, and of vir- tue. 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 complaints in one of the halls of the convent of St. Genevieve; he sympathized with them ; he alleviated their dis- tresses. When it was not in his power to dismiss them entirely satisfied, his heart seemed to grant what necessity obliged him to refuse. It is hardly to be imagined what sums this pious prince expend- ed, in jjlacing children for education in colleges and nunneries, in portioning young women, endowing nuns, putting boys apprentices, or purchashig for them their freedom; in setting up unfortunate tradesmen in business again, and preventing the ruin of others; in restoring and supporting noble- men's families ; in relieving the sicl^, and paying surgeons for their attendance on them. Very often, accompanied by a single servant, he sought after poor persons, in chambers and garrets, and kindly administered to their wants. He made great im- provements in physic, agriculture, arts, and manu- factures. He purchased, and published, a variety of useful remedies. His gardens were filled with medicinal plants of all sorts, brought from the most distant climates. The delight he found in piety and devotion, he LOUIS, DUKB OP OELBANS. 259 used thus to express : " I know, by experience, that sublunary grandeur and sublunary pleasure are de- lusive and vain ; and are always infinitely below the conceptions we form of them : but, on the contrary, such happiness, and such complacence may be found in devotion and piety, as the sensual mind has no idea of." In his last illness, perceiving that death was ap- proaching, 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 ex- patiated, 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 imjilored, with the utmost earnestness, the Divine blessing for his son, the duke of Ohartres. " I have a son," said he to the minister who attended him, " whom I am going to commend to the all-perfect Being. I en- treat God that his natural virtues may become Christian graces ; that the qualities which gain him esteem, may be serviceable to his salvation ; that his love for the king, and his love for me, may be the blossoms of that immortal charity, which the holy spirits and blessed angels enjoy." Thus died this truly Christian prince, in the forty-ninth year of his age. SECTION II. SOAMK JENYNS. SoAME Jentns was born in Lonrlon, in the yea: 1704. He was carefully educated in his father': 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 1V55, he wa appointed one of the lords of trade ; which offio he held, during every change of administration, til it was abohshed in 1780. His character appears to have been amiable am respectable. As an author he attained no sm'al degree of reputation, by fine talents, which ha( every aid that useful and polite learning could bt stow. He had a critical judgment, an elegan taste, and a rich vein of wit and humor. Hi "View of the Internal Evidences of the Christia: Religion," abounds with just and important obsei vations. It was written under a full oonvictioi of the truth of the Christian dispensation, and frOE a sincere zeal for its service. On his death-bed, it is said that, in looking ove SOAME JENTNS. 261 his life, he particularly rejoiced in the belief, that his "View of the Internal Evidences" had been tiseful. He spoke of his death in such a manner as showed he was prepared to die. A very honor- able testimony to his talents and merit was in- scribed in the register of Bottisham, by William Lord 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 pos- sessed the finest understanding united to the best heart." The following sentiments of Soame Jenyns, on the excellence of the spirit and precepts of the gos- pel, appear to have been formed "'so much under the influence of true religion, and contain so strong a testimony in favor of its divine efiicacy, that they claim a place in this collection : "Let us examine," says he, "what are the new precepts in the Christian religion, which peculiarly correspond with its object, the preparing us for the kingdom of heaven. Of these, the chief are, jjoor- ness of spirit, forgiveness of injuries, and charity to all men : to these, we may add repentance, faith, self-abasement, and a detachment from the world ; all moral duties peculiar to this religion, and abso- lutely necessary to the attainment of its end. " ' Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' By which poorness of spirit is to be understood, a disposition of mind, meek, humble, submissive to power, void of ambi- 262 S O A M E J E'N T N S . tion, jDatieut 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 contemptible mean- ness, which must induce men to sacrifice the glory of their country, and their own honor, to a shame- ful pusillanimity : and such it appears to almost all who are called Christians, even at this day ; who not only reject it in practice, but disavow it in prin- ciple, notwithstanding this explicit declaration of their Master. We see them revenging the smallest affronts by premeditated murder, as individuals, on princijples of honor ; and, in their national capaci- ties, destroying Sach other with fire and sword, for the low considerations of commercial interests, the balance of rival powers, or the ambition of prinoes . we see them, with their last breath, animating each other to a savage revenge ; 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 ! and even sanctified in pulpits ! "But universal practice cannot alter the nature of things, nor universal error change the nature of truth. Pride was not made for man ; but humili- ty, meekness, and resignation, that is, poorness of spirit, was made for man, and properly belongs to his dependent and precarious situation ; and is the SOAME JENYITS. 263 only disposition of mind which can enable him to enjoy ease and quiet here, and happiness hereafter. Yet was this important precept entirely unknown,- imtil it was promulgated by him jvho said : ' Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of such is the kingdom of heaven : verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, shall in no wise enter therein.' "Another precept, equally new, and no less ex- cellentr, is, forgiveness of injuries. ' Ye have heard,' says Christ to his disciples, ' Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy : but I say unto you, love your enemies ; bless them that curse you ; do good to them that hate you ; an*d pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.' This was a lesson, so new, and so utterly unknown, till taught by his doctrines, and enforced by his example, that the wisest 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 felicities attendant on a fortunate man. But how much more magnan- imous, how much more beneficial to mankind, is forgiveness ! It is more magnanimous, because every generous and exalted disposition of the hu- man mind is requisite to the practice of it ; for these alone can enable us to bear the wrongs and insults of wickedness and folly with patience, and to look down on the .perpretrators of them, with 264 SOAMK JBNTlfS. fiity rather than indignation : these alone can teac us, that such are but a part of those sufferings a lotted to us in this state of probation ; and to kno" that to overcome evil with good, is the most gh rious of all victories. It is the most beneficia because this amiable conduct alone can put an en to a continual succession of injuries and retalii tions ; for every retaliation becomes a new injur] and requires another act of revenge for satisfa( tion. " But vs^ould we observe this salutary precepi to love our enemies, and to do good to those wh desjjitefully use us, this obstinate benevolenc would at last conquer the most inveterate hearts and we should* have no enemies to forgive. Hcv much more exalted a character, therefore, is Christian martyr, suffering with resignation, an( praying for the guilty, than a Pagan hero, breath ing revenge, and destroying the innocent ! Yet noble and useful as this virtue is, before the ap pearance of this religion, it was not only unprac tised, but decried in principle, as mean and igno minious, though so obvious a remedy for most of the miseries of this life ; and so necessary a quali fioation for the happiness of the next. "Repentance is another ne\v moral duty stren uously insisted on by this religion. But no repent ance can remove our depravity, unless it be such as entirely changes the nature and disposition of the offender ; which, in the language of Scriptm'e. SOAME JENXIsrS 265 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 conver- sion, or new birth, as it is properly and emphatic- ally 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 intemperance. " Hence, also, every one who is in the least ac- quainted with himself, may judge of the reason- ableness of the hope that is in him, and of Ms situation in a future state, by his present condition. If he feels in himself a temper proud, turbulent, vindictive; and malevolent, and a violent attach- ment 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 admit- ted, 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 <3-od, and confidence in his declarations and premises; and it is always a direct contrast to pride, obsti- nacy, and self conceit. " Self-abasement is another moral duty inculcated by this religion only ; which requires us to impute even our own virtues to the grace and favor of 12 266 SOAME JENYNS our Creator ; and to acknowledge that we can do nothing good by onr own powers, unless assisted by his over-ruling influence. This doctrine seems, at first sight, to infringe on our free-will, and to de- prive us of all merit ; but, on a 'closer examination, 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 otber ; and that it is productive of so much humilitj^, resigna- tion, and dependence 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 vir- tue at all. By this detachment from the world, is not to be understood a seclusion from society, ab- straction from all business, or retirement to a gloomy cloister. Industry and labor, cheerfulness and hos- pitality, are frequently recommended ; nor is the acquisition of wealth and honors prohibited, if they can be obtained by honest means, and a moderate degree of attention and care : but such an unremit- ted anxiety, and perpetual application, as engross our whole time and thoughts, are foibidden ; be- cause they are incompatible with the spirit of this religion, and most utterly disqualify us for the at- tainment 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 SOAME JBNYNS. 267 Stand in the way, to step immediately into the kingdom of heaven : but without a previous detach- ment from the business of this world, we cannot be prepared for the happiness of another. " Yet this could make no part of the morality of Pagans, because their virtues were altogether con- nected with" this business, and consisted chiefly in conducting it with honor to themselves, and benefit to the public. Christianity has a nobler object in view, which, if not attended to, must be lost for ever. This object is that celestial 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, provided they detain us not too long, nor lead us out of 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 description, contained in the following words : ' Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity en- vieth not, charity vaunteth not itself; is not puflTed up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ; seeketh not her own ; is not easily [)rovoked ; thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things ; believeth all things ; hopeth all things ; endureth all things.' " Here we have an accurate delineation of this bright constellation of all virtues ; which consists 268 SOAME JENTNS. 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 benevolence to all around us; and which alone is able to promote happiness in the present life, or render us capable of receiving it in another. " And yet this is totally new, and so it is declared to be, by the Author of it : 'A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye love one another ; by this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.' This benevolent dispo- sition is made the great characteristic of a Chris- tian, the test of his obedience, and the mai'k by which he is to be distinguished. "This love for each other, is that charity just now described, and contains all those qualities which are there attributed to it ; humility, patience, meek- ness, and beneficence : without which we must live in perpetual discord, and consequently cannot pay obedience to this commandment of loving one an- other: a commandment so sublime, so rational, and so beneficial, so wisely calculated to correct the de- pravity, dimhiish 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 pas- sions, anger, envy, revenge, malice, and ambition ; SOAMB JENTNS. 269 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 tranquility, and so prepare them for the kingdom of heaven, that we should slide out of a life of peace, love, and benevo- lence, into that celestial society, by an almost im- perceptible transition." SECTION III. l^OBD LYTTELTON. G-isOB;