YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Bought with the income ofthe ALFRED E. PERKINS FUND LIVES OF EMINENT ILLUSTRIOUS ENGLISHMEN. LIVES OF EMINENT ILLUSTRIOUS ENGLISHMEN, ALFRED THE GREAT TO THE PRESENT TIME. <®n an @ti$ina\ $Ian. EDITED BY G. G. CUNNINGHAM. ILLUSTRATED BY A SERIES OF FINELY EXECUTED PORTRAITS, SELECTED EROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES, AND ENGRAVED BY EMINENT ARTISTS. VOLUME IV. GLASGOW: A. FULLARTON & CO., UO, BRUNSWICK STREET; 6, ROXBURGH PLACE, EDINBURGH; AND 12, KING'S SQUARE, GOSWELL STREET ROAD, LONDON. 1840. GLASGOW: FULLARTON A N li CO., PRI M'L-.kS, VILLA FIRU1. CONTENTS OF VOL. IV. SIXTH PERIOD. Page 429. Sir Francis Hosier, . . 123 I. POLITICAL SERIES. 430. Russel, Earl of Orford, . 124 Page 431. Daniel De Foe, . 125 393. Queen Anne, 1 432. Byng, Viscount Torrington, 131 394. George L, 12 433. Thomas Forster, . 133 39S. James Frederick Edward Stuart, 19 434. Fitzjames, Duke of Berwick, 134 396. Richard Cromwell, 27 435. James, Earl of Berkeley, . 136 397. John, Lord Berkeley, 29 436. Mordaunt,EarlofPeterboroughl38 398. Henry, Baron Capel, 30 437. Charles, Viscount Townshend, 141 399. Spencer, Earl of Sunderland, 31 438. Sir William Wyndham, . 143 400. Vice-admiral Benbow, 32 439. John, Duke of Argyle, 143 401. Samuel Pepys, 36 440. Sir Robert Walpole, 145 403. Henry, Earl of Warrington, 43 441. James, Duke of Ormond, 154 403. Sackville, Earl of Dorset, 45 442. John, Earl of Stair, 156 404. Sir Cloudesley Shovell, 46 443. Charles Seymour, 165 405. Sir George Rooke, 48 444. William, Earl Cowper, . 166 406. Henry, Earl of Clarendon, 50 445. Thomas, Earl of Macclesfield, 167 40T. Sir John Holt, 51 446. Sir Charles Wager, 168 408. Sir Robert Atkyns, . 56 447. Marshal Wade, 170 409. William Dampier, . 57 448. Lord Viscount Bolingbroke, 170 410. Sydney Godolphin, . 61 411. James, Earl of Derwentwater, 66 11 . — ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. 412. Thomas, Marquess of Wharton , 68 413. Charles, Earl of Halifax, 70 449. Archbishop Tillotson, . 181 414. Lord Somers, 71 450. Bishop Ken, 187 415. Herbert, Earl of Torrington, 76 451. Archbishop Sancroft, . 188 416. William Penn, . 80 452. William Bates, 191 417. Talbot, Duke of Shrewsbury, 89 453. Bishop Stillingfleet, . 195 418. James, Earl Stanhope, 91 454. Oliver Heywood, 198 419. Sir John Leake, . 92 455. John Howe, . 200 420. James Craggs, . 94 456. Bishop Beveridge, . 207 421. Sheffield, . 95 457. Bishop Bull, 21) 422. John, Duke of Marlborough, 99 458. Archbishop Sharpe, 215 423. Lenox, Duke of Richmond, 108 459. Bishop Burnet, . , 216 424. Charles, Earl of Sunderland, 108 460. Archbishop Tenison, 223 425. Henry Sacheverell, 110 461. Matthew Henry, . 227 426. Harley, Earl of Oxford, . 114 462. Robert South, 230 427. Thomas Guy, 120 463. George Hickes, . . 232 428. Viscount Molesworth, 122 464 Thomas Burnet, 234 465. Daniel Williams, . 466. Bishop Cumberland, 467. Simon Ockley, . 468. Bishop Crewe, 469. Bishop Fleetwood, 470. Archbishop Dawes, 471. William Wotton, . 472. Daniel Whitby, 473. Bishop Kennett, 474. Samuel Clarke, 475. Francis Atterbury, 476. Jeremy Collier, 477. Edmund Calamy, 478. Archbishop Wake, 479. Henry Grove, 480. Bishop Hare, . 481. Richard Bentley, 482. John Hough, . 483. John Balguy, 484. Isaac Watts, III. — LITERARY SERIES, 485. Charles Cotton, 486. Sir William Petty, 487. Thomas Shadwell, 488. Henry Purcell, . 489. John Eachard, 490. John Wallis, 491. John Dryden, . 492. John Locke, 493. John Pomfret, 494. John Evelyn, 495. Sir Charles Sedley, 496. Robert Hooke, . 497. Thomas Betterton, 498. Henry Aldrich, . 499. Henry Dodwell, 500. John Blow, 501. Arthur Maynwaring CONTENTS. Page Page 235 502. Joshua Barnes, . 342 236 503. William Cave, 343 236 504. Cooper, Earl of Shaftesbury, 344 238 505. John Radcliffe, 350 239 506. William Wycherley, 352 240 507. Roger Cotes, . . . 354 240 soa Thomas Parnell, 355 241 509. Sir Samuel Garth, . 359 245 510. Joseph Addison, 360 248 511. John Flamsteed, 366 253 512. John Hughes, 369 261 513. Nicholas Rowe, . . 369 265 514. Matthew Prior, . 372 270 515. Sir Christopher Wren, 375 271 516. Thomas D'Urfey, 379 272 517. Humphrey Prideaux, . 380 276 518. Sir John Vanbrugh, 382 286 519. William Croft, . 385 289 520. Sir Isaac Newton, 386 289 521. John Freind, 404 522. John Woodward, ' 405 523. Sir Richard Steele, 407 293 524. William Congreve, . 412 294 525. Anthony Collins, 414 897 526. Laurence Echard, . 416 299 527. Sir James Thornhill, . 418 299 528. John Gay, 420 300 539. John Arbuthnot, . . . 425 304 530. Sir Richard Blackmore, . 433 316 531. Thomas Hearne, 436 325 532. Granville, Lord Lansdowne, 438 327 533. Thomas Yalden, 440 330 534. Jacob Tonson, 442 331 535. John Strype, . 444 333 536. Eustace Budgell, . 445 336 537. John Asgill, . 449 338 538. Thomas Tickell, 450 341 539. Edmund Halley, 453 341 540. Abraham Sharp, 45C -yyy^Ty? %lO/?z*, j/le^y9-n^Zy/'tyf rli',7'?L/ CWlS 0-H, Fubhsked- 2ry drcfi ,Juflar£t?ii & £> Glasgow. -y^^pA^/ (p%m/cy&M^. *-y™\ C?. Qyfy^&mt&ns FuituhtJ ii, jfrch* Fulla-lcn, £ Co. Clasyow. A >..„¦„. yx. ottavn ,0(^^ Fuhlisked by s$rch.iIliUarton,& C° Glayrpow i ?K ¦ -L A ^1 A i LIVES OF EMINENT AND ILLUSTRIOUS ENGLISHMEN- I.— POLITICAL SERIES. BORN A.D. 1665. — DIED A.D. 1714. " The act of Settlement," says Hallam, " was the seal of our con stitutional laws, — the complement of the revolution itself, and the bill of rights, — the last great statute which restrains the power ofthe crown, and manifests, in any conspicuous degree, a jealousy of parliament in behalf of its gwn and the subjects' privileges. The battle had been fought and gained ; the statute-book, as it becomes more voluminous, is less interesting in the history of our constitution ; the voice of peti tion, complaint, or remonstrance is seldom to be traced in the journals ; the crown, in return, desists altogether, not merely from the threaten ing or objurgatory tone of the Stuarts, but from that disaffection some times apparent in the language of William ; and the vessel seems riding in smooth water, moved by other impulses, and liable, perhaps, to other dangers, than those of the ocean-wave and the tempest." The reigns accordingly of Anne, George I., and George II., present a greater approximation of parties to each other, with none of those bursts of extreme' violence which so often shook nearly to upsetting the whole social fabric in preceding reigns. It will be necessary, however, to a clear understanding of the state and the movements of parties in these reigns, to distinguish accurately betwixt whig and tory principles, not so much indeed with relation to the crown itself, as to other parts of the national polity; for, as Mr Hallam observes, the peculiar cir cumstances of the four reigns immediately succeeding the Revolution, and the spirit of faction which prevailed, " threw both parties very often into a false position, and gave to each the language and sentiments of the other." The tory, then, was ardently loud as the supporter ol the church, to which he was often ready to sacrifice even his loyalty itsejf, and always prepared to sacrifice the great principles of toleration. The whig, on the contrary, opposed the high pretensions of the church, and evinced a favourable leaning towards dissenters. " In the reigns of William and Anne, the whigs, speaking of them generally as a great party, preserved their original character unimpaired far more than their opponents. All that had passed in the former reign served to IV. A 2 POLITICAL-SERIES. [Sixth humble the tories, and to enfeeble their principle.'' With these brief explanations of the distinctive features of the two great political par ties, which we have given nearly in the words of Mr Hallam, the reader will be prepared for perusing the sketches which follow of the leading political characters of that period of English history on which we have now entered. Anne Stuart, queen of Great Britain, the second daughter of James II. then duke of York, by his marriage with Anne, daughter to the earl of Clarendon, was born on the 6th day of February, 1665. A circumstance is connected with the early habits and feelings of this princess, which might have passed unnoticed with the other events of a retired childhood, had not the powerful influence it afterwards assumed over the state of Britain and the policy of Europe, made it a subject of political investigation, und of interest to historians. The early at tachment entertained by the princess for Sarah Jennings, afterwards dutchess of Marlborough, was probably the effect of arbitrary circum stances. Friendship, so dependent as that exhibited by Anne, seldom exerts itself in making choice, but readily fixes itself on the nearest object; and later events in the life of this princess showthat her affec tions could be fixed on less worthy objects. Educated apart from a court with which any connection was contamination, and committed by a Roman Catholic father, and an uncle not zealous for any religion whatever, to be taught a rigid adherence to the forms and do'ctrines of the church of England, she was, to a certain extent,, set apart from the rest of the world, and being of a disposition which incliaed her to de pend on the sympathy and protection of a friend, Sarah Jennings, her playfellow from the earliest childhood, three years her elder, and a girl of insinuating address and high feelings, became her bosom-friend, the superintendent of all her actions, and, it may be said, the object of all her affections.1 Overpowered by her feelings of fondness, the princess appeared to look forward with dread to a momentary separation from her favourite ; they appointed a method of supporting a continual cor respondence. The princess, who felt that the incumbrances of rank in terfered with the cordiality of friendship, choosing for the purpose two feigned names, for herself that of Mrs Morley, and for her friend that of Mrs Freeman ;2 and according to the plan framed by the two girls in a fit of juvenile affection, the queen of Britain carried on an inter course with the wife ofthe greatest general ofthe age. The cautious vigilance with which the young princess was guarded from any circumstances which might admit a suspicion that she was not educated to a full reverence for the church of England, was one of the most prudent acts of Charles ; and, in submitting to the measures for that end, James scarcely displayed his usual obstinacy. On the retirement ofthe latter to Brussels in 1679, he moderately intimated a wish that his daughter might accompany him,-*-a request to which the king at first consented, but which both the brothers saw the impropri ety of urging, in opposition to opinions expressed in disapprobation of such a measure. In 1681, when the duke commenced his administra tion in Scotland, a similar proceeding was sanctioned by similar rea sons ; but party opinion in England rendering it dangerous that tha 1 Coxe's Marlborough, vol. i. p. 20.— .Dutch, of Marlb. Account, p. U, Sic. > Account, p. 14. Period.] QUEEN ANNE. 3 immediate return of the duke should be expected, or even suspected, the princess Anne was sent to attend him, that the English might feel convinced of his permanent absence.3 The policy pursued regarding the princess induced Charles to pro pose, and James, with some reluctance, to consent, that his daughter should be bestowed in marriage on Prince George of Denmark.4 The marriage was celebrated on the 28th of July, 1683,5 and the prince, thus allied to the royal family of England, and afterwards thrown on the most alluring and easy paths to greatness which ambition could suggest, distinguished himself for nothing but the obtuseness of his fa culties, and the inoffensiveness of his disposition, passing to his grave as noiselessly and unobserved as he had entered the world. During the short period when James held uncertain rule, it cannot be said that he made any serious attempt to convert his daughter to the Catholic faith ; his attempts in this respect were limited to the unsacerdotal extent of requesting her to read a few books on the Romish faith, and to -form her own conclusions on their justness.6 Indeed, the princess seems, by that time, to have clung with a true paternal obstinacy to the opin ions of the church of England, which the king probably knew would bid defiance to any attempt at conversion. " I am," she says, writing to her sister the princess of Orange, " resolved to undergo any thing rather than change my religion. Nay, if it should come to such ex tremities, I will choose to live on alms rather than change." 7 At the birth ofthe prince of Wales, on the 10th of June, 1688, the conduct ofthe Princess Anne was more conspicuous than her unobtru sive indolence generally permitted it to be. She was absent at the pe riod of the birth, having gone on the plea of bad health to the waters of Bath, and on her return she took no care to conceal her conviction, that the birth was spurious, and intended for the establishment of a Roman Catholic successor to that throne which must have otherwise devolved on a line of Protestants. Her father did not hesitate to af firm that her absence was a concerted plan, for the purpose of remov ing a witness, whose conscience would allow her to be wilfully blind to the truth, while she would not dare to contradict it ; 8 but justice to the motives of the princess demand the acknowledgment, that her corres pondence, previously to the period of the birth,9 and her conference with a venerable statesman and relative,10 sufficiently prove that she acted from a full conviction, seemingly more dependent on a zeal for the church of England — which she appears to have conceived, could not be permitted to suffer so severe a misfortune as the birth of a male heir to the crown — than on prospects of future aggrandizement; while it may be observed, that should any one now maintain the prince of Wales 3 Life of James II. vol. i. p. 542, 682, from the memoirs written by himself, edited by J. S. Clarke. We need scarcely remind our reader, that this mutilated abstract of oj iginal documents — now,"it is to be feared, irrecoverable — cannot be much depended on in the colour it gives to the intrigues of the period. The passages, however, from which the above facts are taken, bear to have been copied verbatim from the original. 4 Life of James, vo). i. p. 745.— Hume, &c. ' SomerviJIe. ' Conduct of the Dutchess of Marlborough, p. 15. ' Dalrymp. Mem. Ap. to Book v. p. 170. 8 Life of James II. vol. ii. p. 161. From the same quarter it is maintained that tlio bishops procured themselves to be imprisoned from similar motives. * vide Ap. No. 7, to the 5th Book of Dalrymp. Mem. containing a series of inter esting Letters from the princess Anne to her sister. 10 Clarendon's Diary. 4 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth not to have been the child of James the Second and his queen, the sincerity of this conviction on the part of the princess would certainly be the best argument for the support of such a position. During the unfortunate reign of her father, the princess with her husband lived retired from court, and took no interference in measures contrary to the principles of their religion. On the approach ofthe prince of Orange, the latter, by a sort of instinctive docility, joined the standard of the falling monarch. On the king's retreat to London, Prince George, seeing others gradually desert his master, judged it no longer prudent to abide by such a cause, and quietly left the camp at midnight, leav ing behind him a letter of apology. On .perusing which, James re marked that " the loss of a good trooper had been of greater conse quence." " But when the unfortunate monarch heard that his daughter had preferred following the footsteps of her husband 'to remaining with a father, whom the world was gradually deserting, he exclaimed, with a bitter feeling, that he was the object of the ingratitude both of ad herents and of children ; — " God help me, my own children have de serted me !" It appeared to be the general feeling with those who deserted James that some apology was necessary, or at least decorous; and the princess, in a letter to the queen, portrayed her feelings with no little energy, — " never was any one,'' she says, " in such an un happy condition, so divided between duty and affection to a father and a husband, and, therefore, I know not what I must do, but to follow one to preserve the other." ls A writer who was present on the occa sion mentions, that on the princess approaching Nottingham, through which she directed her flight, her friends were alarmed by the intelli gence, that 2000 dragoons were iu full pursuit, with the intention of forcing her back to London, and that an indefinite number of Irish savages were let loose for the destruction of the Protestant population ;'3 and whether from design or accident, various quarters of the country were disturbed by the circulation of similar rumours.1* The princess was received with acclamation by the people of Nottingham. She met the nobility and more distinguished gentry of the neighbourhood at a public banquet, and while her father's fate was uncertain, his situation dangerous, and all around him his enemies, she made a public entry with considerable magnificence at Oxford, where she met her husband.15 While the conduct of the princess cannot meet with the reverence due to" a dereliction -of filial affection, in favour of principle and the common good, those who have characterized it as perfidious and un grateful, appear to adopt an erroneous view of her character. Her stubborn reverence for the church of England, joined to the conviction that an imposture of great moment to her future views had been prac tised against her, seem to have been quite sufficient to balance a filial 11 Life of James II. p. 261. The prince, as each instance of defection reached his ear, was in the habit of exclaiming to his father-in-law, — " est il possible?" On tlie first rumour of his desertion James observed, " so, — est il possible is gone too." Id. Dal rymp. Book vi. p. 202. " Ellis's original Letters, vol. iv. p. 166. 13 Colly Cibber's Apology, (1822) p. 47. Itwillnotadd much to our conviction ofthe real danger, that the author is pathetic on the subject of the alarm as affecting himself. " Our troops," he says, however, " scrambled to arms in as much order as their con sternation would admit of." His account of the flight is amusing. " Hume, &c. » Lilis Cil.-ber. Period.] QUEEN ANNE. . 5 affection which, like that of her sister, was peculiarly lukewarm ;16 and the decision ofthe stronger and more designing intellect ofthe woman who held so firm a master over her mind, was quite sufficient to sway her to the step she followed. Lady Churchill planned the method of escape, and was the companion of the princess in her flight ; and the intrigues of her, and of her celebrated husband at that period, although intricate and ob scure, show the proceedings of this celebrated woman to be the effect of a designing mind, and that her purpose, at that period at least, was to raise her husband in the estimation of William ; she acknowledges that she advised the princess to accede to the act of settlement, which ad- < mitted the right of William to retain the throne during his life, while she adds a qualification to which few will give credit, that she did so without ambitious views.17 ' A little ingenuity might trace the hand of this talented woman through proceedings of deeper duplicity, but our path is not clear, and to avoid injustice we must be content with stating the facts which are authenticated. Soon after the accession of the Prince of Orange, a decided coolness commenced betwixt the two royal sisters, which increased to an almost open rupture, on the friends of the Princess Anne having urged with considerable vehemence the revenue of £50,000, which was assigned to her from the civil list, in 1689. William added indignity to coolness, in his conduct towards Prince George, who made an offer of his services on board the fleet, which was coldly rejected.18 These circumstances created heartburnings in the breast of Anne, which, with the petty acrimony of a weak mind, she was in the habit of venting in unhandsome epithets, and captious remarks ;19 but when Churchill, then earl of Marlborough, who had per formed for William many services, was dismissed from his command, and the countess was ordered no longer to remain at court, the princess Anne preferring friendship to a concurrence with the will of a sister, followed her favourite.20 The coolness, and the final separation, are founded by thedutchess of Marlborough in her account of her conduct, on some idle disputes about the disposal of the Cockpit. William was not a man to quarrel with a princess about her method of occupying her lodgings, and causes must be found of a nature sufficiently strong to work on the mind of so great a man. The dutchess has very natu rally omitted the facts, which documents lately discovered have proved beyond all question, that Marlborough, with Godolphin, his relative by marriage, and his companion in the favour of the princess, conducted during their services to William, a secret correspondence with the court of St Germains.21 The stigma, if such it may be called, cannot be 18 For an interesting sketch of the characters of the sisters, see a view of social life in England and France, by the translator of Mad. D. 17 Account, p. 19. " Coxe's Marlborough, vol. i, p. 48. Account ofthe Dutchess of Marl. p. 38. " She called him, " The monster, Caliban, Dutch abortion." Coxe, vol. i. p. 48. "In some of the Princess Anne's letters, King William is called Dutch monster : Prince George was much neglected by King William while in Ireland with him; was not taken into the king's coach with him, though others were, and never mentioned when there : was not taken to Flanders ; nor allowed to go a volunteer to sea.'' Note in the handwriting of the earl of Marchmont, March, 1732. Marchmont papers, vol. ii. p. 418. M Account. 81 Macpherson's Original Papers, vol. i. p. 156. vide also the correspondence com mencing at p. 588, where Marlborough, is mentioned under the feigned names of ' (journey,' and ' Amsworth.' See also the authorities referred to by Hallam, vol. iii. p. 168. 6 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTH removed from the memory of the great warrior ; and all that a charit able age can do, is to make allowance for an unsettled state of succes sion, and an intriguing age. The discovery of these proceedings would have been sufficient of themselves to rouse the indignation of William, and to make him look with jealousy on her who countenanced the traitor; but some have suspected the great general of conduct still darker, and of having acted a double traitor, in having offered, while in the service of William, to assist James, and of then betraying the designs of that prince. Excepting, however, the fears of the Jacobites themselves, and one document containing a charge of peculiar atro city,22 little evidence has been brought to confirm the accusation, and justice to the memory of a great man requires us to discard it ; never theless, it has been ingeniously maintained, that Anne, who had now softened towards her father, had from conviction, compassion, or to serve an end, ceased to maintain the spurious birth of the Prince of Wales', and had written to her father a repentant letter,23 was made the dupe of such transactions, and that the deep dislike of her sister Mary, which did not relinquish her when its object wished to visit her on- her deathbed, can only be accounted for on the supposition, that William and Mary knew that Anne was reconciled to her father, and that she entered into his views of re-mounting the throne. Although- it is well known that a letter which the princess wrote to her father,21 asking if she might accept of the throne, then likely to become quickly vacant, was answered by a negative, it cannot be denied that a good . understanding at that time subsisted betwixt the exiled monarch and his daughter ; and after his death in. 1701, his widow, writing to Anne, uses terms more applicable to one bound by a solemn promise, than under a mere moral obligation.25 The death of her father was quickly followed by that of her only son : the duke of Gloucester had been put uuder the superintendence of the celebrated Bishop Burnet, and if the words of the old prelate, who seems to have dearly loved, and deeply regretted his pupil, are to be relied on, he must have shown talents for acquiring knowledge, of a very high order, and a disposition to be acquainted with subjects not generally understood at so early an age.26 He was a boy of a delicate constitution, and in his eleventh year he caught a fever, which in four days terminated his life. He bad been acknowledged successor to the throne, and the nation joining his talents to his undisputed right, fond ly looked forward to an end of the strife of succession, and to the reign of a good and great king. But to the mother, if either ambition or affection had place in her mind, the blow must have been the heaviest " Macpherson, vol. i. p 280, the confession of Sir George Hewit, accusing Churchill of a design to assassinate James. .aa Life of James II. p. 476. Hallam, in laying considerable stress on this event, seems Jo overlook the circumstance that the quarrel had gained its utmost height before this ielter was written. a " Life of James II. p. 559. hZl'fj!ilameSALPf,2-j " i," forpv? y°u *\ f^'s P«st, from the bottom ofhis heart, (and prayed to God to do so too, that he gave his last blessing and praver to God to convert your heart) and confirm you in your resolution of repairing to lis Ton if. wrong, done to himself." The editor mentions that the portion withir parentheses ta in is? ^out'^sr- 1[ wm be observed that *•"-**-»» •*» & S w ¦ Burnet— Edit. 1734— vol. iv. pp. 403, 470. Period.] QUEEN ANNE. 7 which the hand of fate could well strike. " She attended on him. says Burnet, •' during his sickness, with great tenderness, but with a grave composedness, that amazed all who saw it : she bore his death with a resignation and piety that were indeed very singular." After this event, in her familiar letters to the countess of Marlborough, she always applied to herself the term, ' your unfortunate Morley.' Anne had born eight immature births, and nine living children ; the mother of these was" now childless, and those who are partial to such specula tions, have supposed the event a just retribution to her who had de serted her parent in his hour of need. No apathy could have resisted the damp which this event must have cast upon her spirits, on her acces sion to the throne, which took place on the 8th of March, 1702.27 Few monarchs have taken more easy possession of a throne, the suc cession to which admitted of debate, than Anne. She appears to have met the views of all parties. The Whigs of England saw her fulfil the act of settlement, while the Tories felt she was their friend.23 The Scotch Jacobites hailed the accession of a Stuart,29 and the unfortunate Irish enjoyed a hope, not fulfilled, that the successor of their conqueror would not rule them by the laws applicable to a nation just subdued ;*° the only persons who seemed to dread the effects of her government were some of the more timid of the Scottish Presbyterians, and the English Dissenters.31 Most historians have noticed her predilec tion for the councils of the Tories, and it must be admitted, that Anne at all times showed an adherence to principles of divine right and ab solute supremacy, at variance with her own title to possess the throne ; but her immediate choice of ministers was more actuated by her de pendence on the advice and friendship of her celebrated 'favourite, than on her political principles. The prince of Denmark being for mally appointed generalissimo of all her forces by sea and land,32 So mers and Halifax, who had enjoyed the confidence ofthe late king, were dismissed from the council, which was regulated by Marlborough and Godolphin : at the instigation of these celebrated men, the engage ments of the late king to pursue the war of the Spanish succession were continued ; the latter was appointed lord-treasurer, and the for mer being appointed captain-general, and honoured with the order of the Garter, was sent as plenipotentiary to the Hague, to deliver the sanction of the queen to the alliance acceded to by her predecessor, and in pursuance of its principles conducted those campaigns whicli have rendered the reign of Anne renowned. Of the incidents which history connects with the reign of this princess, few belong to her indi vidual biography, for even where she ostensibly acted, we have to dis cover the influence of some guiding hand, and a multitude of great names connected with politics, literature, and war, claim the credit of the memorable events of that distinguished period. The partiality of the queen towards her favourite continued for a considerable period in all its.former warmth, but what might have been previously considered an honourable friendship, dignified by rank on the one hand, and talent on the other, degenerated into a dangerous subjection of the mind of 87 Somerville. " Smollelt, and the other popular historians. ¦ Laing's Scotland, Lockhart. • Gordon's Ireland, vol. ii. p. 184. 81 Lockhart, Smollett. ** SomervJUe, p. 3. 8 POLITICAL SERIES. [\SlKTH a queen to the caprice or insolence of a favourite. The first open act of partiality on the part of Anne was a recommendation to the commons to bestow on Marlborough a pension of £5000 per annum ; but the commons declined compliance, and would not admit the prin ciple of extravagantly rewarding minor services, reserving their de monstration of gratitude till the more distinguished acts of that great general afterwards called it forth.33 In the meantime, the queen be stowed on him a dukedom, and he received the thanks of "both houses of parliament, an honour which seems to have carried with it an un - pleasing condition, from its including the duke of Ormond and Sir George Rooke ; and from this period his friends have dated the depar ture of the duke of Marlborough from the councils of the Tories, and his gradual approach to an alliance with the Whigs.34 With Roches ter, the head of the Tory party, Marlborough had early come into col lision, and the uncharacteristic objection of that party to the war, im peded his victorious progress, and annoyed the ministry with dissen sions. Wearied in spirit by these interruptions, he came to the resolution of resigning his command ; "but the queen, with her usual vehemence of friendship, forbade the allusion to such an intention : — " We four," she said, (alluding to the Marlboroughs, Godolphin, and herself) " must never part till death mows us down with his impartial hand." " As for your poor unfortunate Morley," she says to the dutchess, " she could not bear it ; for if ever you should forsake me, I would have nothing more to do with the world, but make another ab dication : for what is a crown when the support of it is gone ?" It is rather remarkable, that the plan which Marlborough adopted to pre serve his utility to the queen, brought about 'the circumstances which finally undermined his interest with his mistress. He admitted into the cabinet, as secretaries of state, two individuals professing Whig opi nions, in whom he placed confidence, but who were men still more designing than himself, Harley, and Henry St John. But while fol lowing the obscure traces of the secret machinations which ruled the councils of Anne, we must not omit some political acts which charac terize her reign, and the spirit of her opinions. She is said to have been of a charitable, mild, and benevolent disposition, and it is natural that we should find her .employing these qualifications in her conduct to her favourite church. With the assistance and advice of Bishop Burnet, she procured the passing of an act, by which the first fruits, or the revenues of every ecclesiastical preferment for one year, and the tenths of preferments, or a yearly revenue of a tenth part of the emolu ment of all preferments paid by the incumbent at Christmas, should be restored to the church, from which the act 26th Henry VIII. had taken them, to secure them to the crown, and should be erected into a fund for the augmentation of small livings.36 The design was doubtless be nevolent, but it has been thought by some to have been unsuccessful, and to have only released the rich clergy from a charge to which by law they were liable,, while many incumbrances prevented it from having any effect whatever during the lifetime of the queen.36 "° Somerville, p. 32. ¦* Hist, of the Reign of her late Majesty, p. 72. * Act 2d and 3d Anne, ch. ii. V " Edinburgh Review, No. XXXVIII. p. 151. P-ERIOD.] . QUEEN ANNE. 9 The union of the two kingdoms is an event not to be omitted in a memoir of Queen Anne, as it was a measure for which she disco vered an early desire,37 in the furtherance of which she took a personal interest, overcoming great difficulties, and in the accomplishment of which she indulged in a just pride as the fruit of her own endeavours. The proceedings of the English house of peers, regarding the plot of Lord Lovat, had exasperated the national feeling of the Scotch, as a hostile interference; and many began to fear, not without plausible ground, that the greater nation might assume an aspect of command over the weaker. The legislature, of which part was thus influenced, while a portion looked forward to a Jacobite succession, tacked to the supplies the celebrated act of security, by which a separate successor to the crown might be named for Scotland, and the kingdom armed to defend him. - This so far showed to those who valued the Protestant succession, the necessity of an incorporating union, that Godolphin has been suspected of so refined a policy as that of having secretly pro cured the passing of this act to prove the necessity of the projected union.38 No salutary measure ever forced its way through greater difficulties than the act of union. Fletcher of Saltoun, a man vene rated for his talents and his goodness, and feared on account of the freedom of his political opinions, and Hamilton, Lord Belhaven, one of the most bold and nervous of those orators who have joined reason with passion, united in a conscientious opposition to the measure, founded on no shallow grounds. It had besides to contend with the prejudices of the Scotch people, who could not with patience witness the extinction of a national name which they had been taught to ally with all that is great in genius and glorious in arms : their ceasing to possess as their own king a descendant of that hoary race of monarchs whose origin was suspended from the clouds, and the closing of the doors of their ancient parliament. By a little corruption, some arti fice, and considerable perseverance, and by continuing to the Scottish aristocracy the outward form of their ancient power, tbe measure was carried, in opposition to. the voice of a nation, and the opinion of a teeming press.89 In feeling the utility of the measure, and looking back on its progress, we are astonished that it ever overcame the array set against it. For some time its operation afforded matter of triumph to its opponents. Additional measures, in pursuance of its spirit, pro duced heartburnings, which it cannot be said that the conduct of the more powerful nation contributed to alleviate. During the reign of Anne, those who had been the best promoters of the measure chose to move its recall, but the attempt failed: it was long before any of its benefits were acknowledged beyond the council-table, or even felt : it is probably a measure of which the excellent effects will increase with its age, uhtil it be remembered when the victories of Marlborough are forgotten. There are other matters, however, in this reign which present a less noble aspect to the historical inquirer. The disputes betwixt the two houses on the Aylesbury election, and other subjects, are more con- ' 3' Culloden Papers, p. 29. 38 Laing, vol. iv. p. 304. Sir S. Clerk's MS. Notes on Lockhart's Mem. ¦ Laing. Lockhart. De Foe. Works of Fletcher of Saltoun. Speeches, ana Pamphlets of the Period, passim, IV. B 10 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTH neeted with the constitutional history than with the personal memoir of the queen ; but it must be remarked, that the opposition frequently made to liberal principles, and the indecorous opinions on divine right and prerogative, which created so much confusion and danger, would probably have slept in the bosoms of their enlightened projectors) had they not been encouraged from the throne. The crime, if such it may be called, which caused the measures against Sacheverell, was not in the propagation of absurdities by a man of a weak intellect and heated brain, but in the acts of those who maintained the speculative doctrine of divine right for the furtherance of their own dark or selfish motives, and above all, of those who tried to gain their end by uniting it with religion.40 The alleged danger of the church; or, as it appeared in their eyes, the danger of the Christian religion, fired the minds of the populace, as a false tale of injuries may be said to rouse the feelings ot a passionate man, and the people were on the eve of breaking but into open rebellion in vindication of the doctrine of passive obedience. To draw the line where opinions begin to point so strongly at the existing government that the authors of them must be prosecuted forthe preser vation of the general peace, is a nice point ; it is perhaps most safe to lean towards a feeling of the sacredness of opinion, and probably the ex perience of statesmen can show few instances where such measures have produced beneficial effects. Perhaps there is hardly a case which will admit of more justification than the prosecution of Sacheverell, and yet its propriety is somewhat doubtful, and the irritation it gave to the public mind, along with the slight punishment the peers felt themselves compelled to award, must have made those connected with the transac tion feel that they were treading on unsteady ground. But if the pro secution was a matter of doubtful propriety, there can be but one opin ion as to the conduct of the queen. Her private attendance on the trial, the adulation she accepted from the turbulent multitude, her cool contempt for the suggestions of the commons, and the final promotion to a rich benefice of the contemptible object of disturbance, show a monarch conniving at defiance ofthe laws, and too narrow in her intel lect to feel the truth of the grand political principle by which she had been placed on the throne, while she would not risk an open avowal of her principles.41 In the meantime, a change in the friendly feelings of the queen to wards the dutchess of Marlborough, produced a strong effect on the policy of Europe. The dutchess would have made a great queen, and being so much connected with the guidance of a royal will, it may well be supposed that her interference and haughtiness became too great even for the temper of Queen Anne. Abigail Hill, a connexion of her own, and appointed by ^ her one of the bed-chamber women, was the person who supplanted 'the proud dutchess in the affections of the queen. This woman, better known as Mrs Masham, was also distantly related to Harley ; and that wily intriguer, on her coming under the notice of the queen, condescended to pay his respects to a relative he J had previously neglected, and was introduced to the favour of the ! queen, to whom he was in the habit, through the intervention of Abi gail, of paying secret visits. It is difficult to follow the windings of " Vide Lockhart Papers, vol. i. p. 310. -' Smollett.— Somerville, p. 373, &c — Burnet, p. 1066, Ssc.— State Trials, vol. xv. Pekiob.] QUEEN ANNE. II some politicians of this age. Harley had early distinguished himself as a Tory ; along with Henry St John he was admitted to the councils of Marlborough as a Whig, but both turned themselves secretly round to the ways of Toryism. Improper conduct, which had taken place in the deportment of Harley, probably accidental as far as respected himself, interrupted the smoothness of their progress. The duke of Marlborough had still influence sufficient to clear the council of those who became more openly his opponents, but from the period when the queen was compelled to accede to such a measure, the displeasure of her stubborn mind was unchangeably turned against Marlborough. For two years the country was governed by a purely Whig ministry, but Marlborough fell into disgrace from opposing a scandalous promotion of a relation of Mrs Masham. The dutchess strove to revive the spirit of their ancient friendship, but the queen was obdurate, the Whigs were dismissed, and a new administration was headed by Rochester, St John, and Harley. The queen then called for a resignation of the offices of the dutchess. The duke interceded for delay in a measure carrying with it so deep a reflection ; but, with the obstinacy which little minds mistake for firm ness, Anne refused this small favour to her ancient friend, though the warrior had condescended to beg it on his knees.43 The treaty of peace, so advantageous to France, which was ratified by the Tory ministry of Anne, has been well canvassed, and is not a subject for discussion in so brief a memoir ; it must, however, be admitted, on an impartial review, that the terms obtained by Britain were not such as would have justi fied the bloodshed by which they were purchased ; and that however certainly peace is always "accompanied by blessings, it is a degrading thought, that all which the ambition of one woman had drained the best blood of the land to obtain, was relinquished by the intrigues of an other. Queen Anne survived for a considerable period the death of her hus band, which took place in the year 1708- During the latter days of her reign the kingdom was in a state of excitement from the dangers of a disputed succession, and few subjects have been more hotly agitated than the question, whether or not what is called the protestant succes sion was then in danger. Although those who knew well the councils of the times have left behind them solemn declarations of the integrity of the intentions of the government,43 and its designs have been defend ed by writers who cannot be called partial,44 now, when time has soften ed the bitterness of party feeling on the subject, and perhaps diminished our ideas ofthe guilt of such an attempt, few will deny that the Tories of the latter days of Queen Anne held a correspondence with the court of St Germains, nor can Godolphin and some of his party be entirely acquitted of a similar charge.45 That the queen countenanced such proceedings we have no evidence but the remarks and speculations of some sanguine Jacobites,46 and it is probable that her sentiments on this " Coxe, vol. iii. p. 354. " JSolingbroke's State of Parties at the accession of Geo. I., Works, vol. iii, p. 140 — Swift's Free Thoughts upon the present state of affairs, Works, vol. v. p. 405. « Somerville, p. 573, &c. 15 Macpherson's Papers; and some obscure hints in Lockhart's Commentaries. — Me moirs of the duke of Berwick — Carte.— And compare Laing, vol. iv. p. 383. *° Perhaps the clearest (yet still extremely dubious) passage on this point may bo found in the Lockhart Papers, vol. i. p. 317. It is remarkable, but too long for ex traction. Hallam refers to it, and seems to give it rather more than its due weight. 12 POLITICAL SERIES. [Siitw point may remain as dubious as she seems to have wished them to be. The last days of the queen were irabittered by dissensions in her cabi net, which she in vain tried to assuage. On the 29th of July, 1714, she contracted a lethargic disorder, which made such rapid progress, that next day her life was despaired of. She continued in a state of lethargy and unconsciousness, with few intervals, until the 1st day of August, when she expired, in the 50th year of her age and in the 13th of her reign. It was her misfortune that her best qualities were those which least became a queen. Her warmth of friendship might have ornamented private life, but it sullied her conduct as a queen. Her benievolenee acquired for her the honourable term of ' The good Queen Anne,' and was such as with opulence might have blessed a neighbour hood, but in a kingdom she had not the genius to make it useful. (&tOV£t $. BORN A. D. 1660.— DIED A. D. 1727. The ancestors ofthe house of Brunswick were connected, at an early period, with the royal family of England, by the marriage of Henry, surnamed the Lion, to Matilda, daughter of Henry II., from whom George I. was lineally descended. Ernest Augustus, the first duke of Hanover, was married in 1658 to Sophia, daughter of Frederick, king of Bohemia, by Elizabeth, the daughter of James I. of England. The Princess Sophia was a woman of great beauty and vigorous intellect. She was the friend and protector of Leibnitz and other learned men of her day. She spoke five languages, including English, so well, that by her accent it was doubtful which of them was her native tongue. The succession of her family to the throne of England had long" been her darling object, and her death has been attributed to the chagrin she felt at her son's intended visit to England being strongly depre cated by Queen Anne. Her son, George Lewis, was born at Hanover on the 28th of May, 1660. Judging from the accomplishments of his mother, it might have been expected that his education would have been careful and complete ; but the contrary was the fact. His father, Ernest, though a man of some talent, had little admiration for scholastic acquirements, and probably connived at his inattention to study, which must have been gross indeed, as he never acquired even the language of the peo ple over whom, by the provisions of the act for securing a protestant succession, he expected to reign I His morals, too, were most culpably neglected, and his habits and ideas at length became exceedingly de praved. In the twenty-second year of his age he was united, against his inclinations, to the Princess Sophia Dorothea, then about sixteen.,- The unfortunate princess was neglected, if not hated, by her husband, almost from the day of their marriage ; and, for a period of ten years, during which she gave birth to two children, afterwards George II., king of England, and Sophia Dorothea, queen of Prussia, she is said to have endured a series of indignities which were as irritating as they were unmerited. On the death of his father in 1698, George succeeded to the elee- Period.] GEORGE I. IS torate, and rather a favourable change took place in his character ; so that he acquired a degree of respectability, which, from his previous follies, could scarcely have been anticipated. He was placed at the head of the imperial army, after the battle of Blenheim ; but the jea lousies of his confederates induced him to give up his command, after having retained it during three campaigns. It was late in the evening of the 5th of August, 1714>, that Lord Clarendon, the English ambassador at the court of Hanover, having received an express announcing the demise of Queen Anne, repaired, with all possible haste, to the palace of Herenhausen ; at two hours after midnight he entered the chamber of the elector, and, kneeling, saluted him king of Great Britain ; but the ambassador's homage, it appears, was received with mortifying serenity. The sovereign appeared to be exceedingly secure of his new subjects, for when some one in his presence spoke of the dangerous principles of the presbyterians, and alluded to the death of Charles I., he replied, with a pleasant indiffer ence, " I have nothing to fear, for the king-killers are all on my side." He seemed in no haste to leave Herenhausen, nor did he commence his journey till the 31st of August. On the eve of his departure, he ordered the excise on provisions to be abolished, and the insolvent debtors throughout the electorate to be discharged. He reached the Hague on the 5th of September, but did not embark until the 16th, and arrived at Greenwich on the 18th of the same month. He made his public entry into London on the 20th ; and his coronation took place, with the usual solemnities, on the 20th of October. At the first court which he held he treated some of the late queen's ministers with marked contempt, and others with coldness. Lord Oxford was permitted to kiss the king's hand, but received no further notice. Chancellor Harcourt, who had prepared and brought with him a patent for creating the king's eldest son prince of Wales, was forthwith turned out of his office. The duke of Ormond, who was captain-general,, and had come with great splendour to pay his court, was informed that the king had no occasion for his services, and was not allowed even to come into the royal presence. Pursuant to an order despatched by the king previously to his departure from Hanover, Bolingbroke had been al ready dismissed ; and his majesty appeared bent on depressing, as much as possible, all the open and secret enemies ofhis house. In the early part of his reign, or at least on his arrival in this coun try, George I. was far from being unpopular; but his decidedly foreign appearance and manners, when they became known, lowered him ma terially in public estimation. His two German mistresses, who were created dutchess of Kendal and countess of Darlington, shortly after his accession, became seriously offensive to the people. Nor does the king appear to have been infinitely delighted with his new subjects ; he sighed for his beloved electorate, and spoke and acted like a man ill at ease in a strange house, and longing to be at home again. " This is a very -odd country!" said he. " The first morning after my arrival at St James's, I looked out of the window and saw a park with walls, and a canal, which they told me were mine. The next day Lord Chetwynd, the ranger of my park, sent me a brace of fine carp out of my canal ; and I was told I must give five guineas to Lord Chetwynd's man for bringing me my own carp out of my own canal in my own park I" 14 POLITICAL SERI.ES. [Sl»TH One of the most important circumstances in the early part of this king's reign was the impeachment of some of the tory leaders for the share they had taken in the treafyof Utrecht; and their conduct was visited, in the opinion of a still 3arge and powerful party, with unne cessary rigour. Inflammatory papers were circulated to a great extent against the new monarch ; various parts of the country were agitated by tumults ; and, at length, about the middle of September, in 1715, the earl of .Mar proclaimed the pretender as James III. at Castletown in Scotland. He soon collected an army of ten thousand men, and an insurrection followed in Northumberland, under the earl of Derwent- water; but that nobleman was compelled, in the early part of Novem ber, to surrender, with many of his partisans. On the same day a bloody, but indecisive battle was fought at Sheriffmoor, between Mar and the duke of Argyle. On the 25th of December, the pretender landed at Peterhead ; but he displayed so little judgment, his plans were so ill arranged/ and the insurrection in his favour met with such faint support from the English Jacobites, that; in the February follow ing, he found it prudent to re-embark for France. A terrible scene of blood and vengeance ensued ; the meaner throng of prisoners suffered without exciting much sympathy'; but on the condemnation of the Lords Qerwentwater, Nairne, and Nithsdale, with many other noble men, a universal sentiment of compassion prevailed^ To his eternal honour, Duncan Forbes, then advocate-depute, though he and his fa mily had distinguished themselves by their exertions to put down the pretender, refused to go into England to act as public prosecutor of the Scots rebels, taken in arms ih that country. Nor did he content him self with barely declining a task which most other men would have eagerly undertaken as the high road to advancement : he even com posed and transmitted, to Sir Robert Walpole, an energetic memorial against the injustice and impolicy of treating the rebels as the ministry were about to do. In consequence of divers petitions presented to the house of peers, a motion was made and carried by a majority of five v jices, that the house should address the throne to reprieve such of the condemned lords as really deserved mercy. But the king haughtily answered, that on this and all other Occasions he would do what he thought most consistent with the dignity of the crown and the safety of the people. In 1716, the disaffection to the house of Brunswick induced its staunch adherents, the whigs, who were in office, to propose the fa mous septennial act, by which a power was assumed, not merely of increasing the duration of future parliaments, but even of prolonging the existence of that assembly by which it was enacted: so that, al though only elected by the nation for three years, it conferred on it self the power of sitting for seven. This iniquitous and totally inde fensible bill, after a long and violent struggle, was passed, and of course received the royal assent. Iu 1717, the king and his ministers were exceedingly unpopular. Oaken-boughs worn on the 29th of May, and white roses on the 10th of June, the birth-day of the pretender, were the badges of the disaf fected. Oxford, and especially the university, was the focus of disloy alty ; and it was deemed expedient to send a military force there, in order to prevent any seditious or treasonable attempts. Cambridge Pe8'0D.] GEORGE I. 15 being more complaisant, received a royal present of books ; and Dr Trapp wrote the following epigram on the occasion : — Our royal master saw, with heedful eyes, The wants of his two universities : Troops he to Oxford sent, as knowing why That learned body wanted loyalty; But books to Cambridge gave, as well discerning How that right loyal body wanted learning. Sir William Browne thus retorted, as it was said, impromptu : — The king to Oxford sent a troop of horse, For tories know no argument but force ; With equal care, to Cambridge books he sent, For whigs allow no force but argument. In this year, the king being desirous of visiting Hanover, appointed a committee of the privy council to consider in what manner it might be most adviseable to settle the regency in the event of his determining to spend some part of the year in Hanover. The ministers gave their opinion with great freedom against the journey, but declared that, in the event of his majesty persisting in his intentions, no other person could be proposed for the regency than the prince of Wales. The appointment was accordingly made ; and the prince acquired so much popularity by his administration as regent, as to excite the jealousy of his father towards him on his return. He is even said to have medi tated a scheme for the exclusion of his heir-apparent from the suc cession. In 1718, a plan was formed to assassinate the king by a political fanatic, named James Shepherd, a youth under nineteen years of age. He had imbibed from childhood the highest principles of monarchical right ; and, regarding George the First as an usurper, he had coolly re solved to put him to death. On the 24th of January he wrote to one Leake, a nonjuring clergyman, that he was certain, if the reigning prince were removed, the true king- — meaning the pretender — might be restored without bloodshed. He offered to invite his majesty home ; and on his arrival, promised to smite the usurper jn his palace. He owned the chance of his suffering a cruel death, and that he might the better support it, desired to receive the holy sacrament daily until he made the attempt. Leake, much alarmed, carried the letter to a ma gistrate, and Shepherd was apprehended. He gloried in his design, and said it had been three years in his contemplation. On his trial he disdained to make any defence, but owned the truth of the charge, and declared he died a willing martyr to his principles. At the place of execution he was publicly absolved by Arne, a nonjuring priest, and died with great firmness. His political fanaticism seems to have amounted so clearly to positive insanity, that a cell in a madhouse would have been much more proper for him than a halter at Tyburn. Few circumstances in the reign of George the First were more re markable than the formation and bursting of the South Sea bubble. On the 7th of April, 1720* an act was passed, investing the South Sea com pany with power to take in, by purchase and subscription, both the re deemable and unredeemable debts of the nation to the amount Of thirty- three millions, at such rates as should be settled between the company 16 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTH and the respective proprietors. In return, the company consented that the interest on their original capital of nine millions four hundred thou sand pounds, as well as the interest on the public debt, should after mid summer, 1727, be reduced to four per cent., and be redeemable by par liament. Exclusive of this reduction, the company were to pay into the exchequer four years and a half purchase of all the long and short an nuities that should be subscribed, and one year's purchase of such long annuities as should not be subscribed, amounting to seven millions sterling : for raising which sum they were empowered to open books of subscription, to grant redeemable annuities, and to convert the money so raised into additional stock. The dangers of the project soon ap peared ; a wild spirit of speculation seized the whole nation ; the suc cessive subscriptions filled with amazing rapidity, and the directors de clared a dividend of thirty per cent, for Christmas, 1720, and fifty per cent, for the next twelve years. The transfer price of stock rose iii a very short time from one hundred and thirty to one thousand ; so that those who were in the secret of the plot were enabled to realize vast for tunes before the bubble burst. In a few months the stock fell with greater rapidity than it had risen, and the victims, awaking from their golden dreams, found themselves reduced to a deplorable state of dis tress and ruin. The king, being in Germany when the catastrophe happened,, was sent for express, to discuss with his ministers the means of quelling the disturbances it had occasioned, and of restoring public credit, which it had almost destroyed. A committee of the house of commons proceeded with great diligence to investigate this disastrous affair, which was styled in the report, a train ofthe deepest villany and fraud hell ever contrived for the ruin of any nation. It appeared that a great number of the parliamentary supporters of the bill had been bribed by its unprincipled projectors, and the profits of the company were found to amount to thirteen millions. Some of the guilty parties were heavily mulcted, and many judicious steps were taken to relieve their dupes ; but the public credit had sustained an injury which it did not recover for many years. It is curious that France had but just re covered from the effect of a similar misfortune, in the rise and fall of the Mississippi company, projected by the famous Law. In 1722, the partizans of the pretender began once more to bestir themselves in his favour, on the supposition, doubtless, that the shock produced by the failure of the South Sea project would be favourable to their designs. The measures of government, however, were at once so judicious and prompt, that the conspiracy was crushed in embryo. Several noblemen were arrested on suspicion ; Bishop Atterbury was exiled for life ; but only one person, Christopher -Layer, a barrister of the Temple, suffered capital punishment. He was convicted of high- treason, in enlisting men for the service of the pretender. At this pe riod a very disgraceful tax of £100,000 was levied on the estates of Roman catholics. In May, 1725, George I. revived the ancient order of the Bath, whicli had lain dormant since the coronation of Charles II. In January, 1726. the king encountered a violent storm at sea on his return from his yearly visit to Hanover; he was in great danger for two days, and landed with extreme difficulty at Rye in Sussex. It would be difficult to eive a stronger proof of his attachment to the electorate than the alacrity he Period.] GEORGE I. . 17 displayed in hastening to his beloved country the moment he could de tach himself from the burthen of public business.- These visits naturally- excited discontent in England, and produced several satirical effusions against the monarch, his ministers, and his mistresses ; among which was a poem entitled ' The Regency,' written by Samuel, brother of the celebrated John Wesley. • Of this production — which appears to have obtained more notice than it deserved — the following is a. specimen : — As soon as the wind it came fairly about, That kept the king in, and his enemies out, He determined no longer confinement to bear, And thus to the dutchess his mind did declare : Quoth he, ' My dear Kenny, I've been tired a long while With living obscure in this poor little isle ; And now Spain and Pretender have no more mines to spring, I'm resolved to go home and live like a king.' The dutchess, in reply, approves of the monarch's intentions ; and after ludicrously describing the regency by which the kingdom was to be governed during his absence, she says, • ' On the whole, I'll be hanged, if all over the realm There are thirteen such fools to be put to the helm ; ' So for this time be easy, nor have jealous thought, • They hav'nt sense to sell you, nor are worth being bought.' ' 'Tis for that,' quoth the king, in very bad French, ' I chose them for my regents, and you for my wench ; And neither, I'm sure, will my trust e'er betray, For the devil won't take you if I turn you away.' Notwithstanding the danger which had attended his return from Ger many in 1726, in the following summer, although now an old man, the king determined on visiting his electorate. He accordingly embarked at Greenwich on the 3d of June, and landed in Holland on the 7th. In the progress ofhis journey he was attacked with a kind of lethargic pa ralysis, which he foresaw would be speedily mortal, and exclaimed to his attendant, " I am a dead man I" But his desire to reach his electoral capital was so great, that he caused himself to be carried ,on to Osna- burg. Having lost all sense and motion on his arrival at that place, his further progress was impossible, and he died on the 11th of June, 1727, , in the sixty-eighth year of his age and the thirteenth of his reign. He was buried at Hanover on the 3d ofthe following September. " The person of the king," says Walpole, " is as perfect in my me mory as if I saw him but yesterday : it was that of an elderly man, ra ther pale, and exactly like his pictures and coins — not tall— of an aspect rather good than august — with a dark tie wig, a plain coat, waistcoat, breeches of snuff-coloured cloth, with stockings of the same colour, and a blue riband over all." His own grand-daughter, the princess of Ba- reuth, in her ' Memoires,' characterizes him as a very stupid man, with o-reat airs of wisdom. He had no generosity, she says, but for his fa vourites and the mistresses by whom he let himself be governed ; he spoke little, and took no pleasure in hearing any thing but niaiseries ¦ since his accession to the throne of England, she adds, he had also be come insupportably haughty and imperious. In his old age the king was guilty of the wickedness and folly of taking an additional mistress. This person was Anne Brett, eldest daughter, by her second husband. iv. c 18 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth of the repudiated wife of the earl of Macclesfield, the unnatural mother of Savage the poet. We learn from Walpole that Miss Brett was very handsome, but dark enough, by her eyes, complexion, and hair, for a Spanish beauty, and that a coronet was to have rewarded her compli ance, had not the king died before it could be granted. He appears to have entertained a very low opinion of the political integrity of his co ur- tiers and the honesty ofhis household. He laughed at the complaints of Sir Robert Walpole against the Hanoverians for selling places ; and would not believe that the custom was not sanctioned by his English advisers and attendants. Soon after his first arrival in this country, a favourite cook whom he had brought from Hanover, grew melancholy, and wanted to return home. The king having inquired why he wished to quit his household, the fellow replied, " I have long served your ma jesty honestly, not suffering any thing to be embezzled in your kitchen, but here, the dishes no sooner come from your table, than one steals a fowl, another a pig, a third a joint of meat, a fourth a pie, and so on, till the whole is gone ; and I cannot bear to see your majesty so injured !" The king laughing heartily, said, ," My revenues here enable me to bear these things ; and, to reconcile you to your place, do you steal like the rest, and mind you take enough I" The cook followed this advice, and soon became a very expert and flourishing thief. About a year before the king's own death, that of his unfortunate consort, the princess of Zell, took place; and her royal husband most iniquitously caused her will, together with that of her father, the duke of Zell, to be burned, in order, as it was believed, to deprive his own son. the prince of Wales, of some important bequests. Walpole de clares, that he had this fact from Queen Caroline. A female fortune teller had warned George the First to take care of his wife, as he would not survive her a year, and the king gave such credit to the prediction, that on the eve ofhis last departure to the continent, he took leave of his son and the princess of Wales with tears, telling them that he should never see them more. It was certainly his own fate that melted him, says Walpole, not the thought of quitting for ever two persons he hated. He did his son the justice to say, " II est fongueux, mais il a de l'hon- neur;" but for Caroline, he termed her, to his confidants, " Cette dia- blesse, madame la princessel" About the same period, in a tender mood, he promised the dutchess of Kendal, that if she survived him, and it were possible for the departed to return to this worid, he would make her a visit. The dutchess on his death so much expected the accom plishment of this engagement, that a large raven, or some black fowl, flying into one ofthe windows of her villa at Isleworth, she was per suaded it was the soul of her departed monarch so accoutred, and re ceived and treated it with great respect and tenderness. George the First evidently possessed no taste either for literature or science. He had, however, a really German ear for music, and warmly patronized Handel. His military talents appear to have been respect able ; and the manner in which he managed his electorate before he be came king of England, was highly creditable to his judgment. Toland says, in a pamphlef published about the year 1705, "I need give no more particular proof of his frugality in laying out the public money, than that all the expenses of his court, as to eating, drinking, fire, candles, and the like, are duly paid every Saturday night • the officers Period.] JAMES FREDERICK EDWARD STUART. 19 of his army receive their pay every month, and all the civil list are cleared every half year." He was greatly annoyed, however, by the want of confidence in his economy displayed by his British subjects, la menting to his private friends that he had left his electorate to become a begging king ; and adding, that he thought it very hard to be con stantly opposed in his application for supplies, which it was his intention to employ for the benefit of the nationi The various treaties in which he engaged are so numerous and un interesting, that it would be needlessly trespassing on the reader's pa tience to detail the whole of them. The chief objects of his foreign policy seem to have been the enlargement of his electoral dominions, and the counteraction of attempts threatened, or made, by continental powers in favour of the pretender. The struggles of political parties during this reign are amply detailed in our memoirs of the party-leaders of the period. Sames -jfrtfcericfe Cfctoartr JUtuart. BORN A. D. 1G88. DIED A. D. 1766. The parents of this unfortunate prince were James II., and Maria D'Este, sister to Francis, duke of Modena, who were united in 1673 The bride was then only in her fifteenth year, by no means beautiful, and so poor, that the king of France paid her marriage-portion. For the first fourteen years of her marriage she had no children ; but, on the 10th of June, 1688, she was delivered of a son. The birth of a prince of Wales excited an extraordinary ferment in the nation : the catholics gloried in the event, but the majority of the protestants broadly insinuated that the pretended heir-apparent was not the queen's child. One party asserted that she had never been pregnant ; a second insisted that she had miscarried ; and a third allowed that she had born a son, but contended that the royal infant had died soon after its birth. The story of the supposititious birth of the son of James II. appears, however, to have been utterly destitute of foundation. On the 15lh of October, the young prince was christened James Frederick Edward. On account of the gloomy aspect of affairs in this country, the queen withdrew with him to France early in the following month ; and before the year closed, his father had ceased to be a reigning king. The exiled monarch died at St Germains on the 16th of September, 1701. Just before his dissolution took place, he conjured the young prince, in the most earnest manner, " never to barter his salvation for a crown, or to let any worldly views wean him from his attachment to the holy catholic faith." In pursuance of a pledge whicli Louis XIV. had given the expiring monarch, James Frederick was, immediately after his father's demise, acknowledged king of England by the French court. The pope, the king of Spain, and the duke of Savoy, did him the same empty honour ; but no steps were taken to procure his restor ation. In England acts of attainder were passed against him, and also against his mother, who, however, succeeded in obtaining £50,000 as a composition for the unpaid balance of her dowry, by means of a suit in chancery. 20 POLITICAL SERIES. rFlF™- The acts of attainder were followed by the introduction of a bill ab juring the pretender, and declaring William III. to be rightful king of these realms ; against the passing of which, however, several members, in both houses, solemnly and vehemently protested. During the reign of Queen Anne, the Jacobite party in . the country increased, as well in political influence as members, especially after the change of admin istration and of principles in 1710: It is highly probable, that had Anne possessed the power of peremptorily nominating her successor, James Frederick would have ascended the throne on her demise. In 1706 he sent over an agent, named Hooke, to confer with his adher ents in England and Scotland, and they, in return, despatched a Cap tain Stratton as their representative to his little court at St Germains. At this time, although his friends, the tories, " were for keeping quiet during the queen's life," the Scotch Jacobites evinced a strong inclina tion to rise in his behalf, and an insurrection would probably have taken place, had not Stratton failed in obtaining any assurance of help from Louis, whose arms were then fully employed by the forces under Marlborough. In 1707 Jacobitism was openly professed in all the chief cities in Scotland, and the rejoicings in Edinburgh on James Frederick's birth- day were as open and general as though he had been seated on the throne. In 1708 the French king secretly fitted out an expedition against Scotland at Dunkirk. Madame de Maintentn writes to the Princess Ursini, under date the 4th March, 1708 : "The king of England is to set out on the 9th, and to embark at Dunkirk for Scotland on the 10th. The king gives him 6000 men. The Scotch lads have written repeatedly that they will receive him. If God blesses this enterprise it will make a great decision, and perhaps peace. If you have any saints in Spain, let them pray for its success." Under date the 25th of March, she again writes, " The expedition to Scotland in terests all the world. Every one here was full of consternation at the delay, and is rejoiced at the king of England's sailing." The expedi tion, however, as related in our introductory historical chapter, was com pelled to return to France without having landed a single soldier in Scotland. Shortly afterwards the chevalier joined -the French army in Flanders, and appeared in arms against those whose allegiance he claimed at the battle of Oudenarde. Humbled by defeat, Louis at length offered to acknowledge Queen Anne as rightful sovereign of these kingdoms, and no longer to afford the chevalier an asylum in France. No pacification, however, was effected, and James Frederick still continued to reside at St Germains. In Scotland, he had lost none of his adherents ; and they continued to display their sentiments in his favour with an audacity which appears, at that time, to have been by no means remarkable. In 1711 the dutchess of Gordon sent a medallion portrait of him to the faculty of advocates at Edinburgh ; and, on a discussion taking place as to the propriety of receiving it, the meeting decided by a large majority, — sixty.-three against twelve, — that the dutchess should be thanked, in the warmest terms, " for having presented them with a medal of their so vereign lord the king." Soon after the peace of Utrecht, the French minister at the Hague declared that his sovereign would no longer countenance the chevalier, or any of his adherents ; and when, on the death of Queen Anne, James Frederick posted to "Versailles, " he Period.] JAMES FREDERICK EDWARD STUART. 21 ¦wished," says Madame de Maiutenon, " to set out, as soon as he had heard the accident, and our queen of England had the courage to as sent to his plan." Louis, however, not only refused to see him, but requested that he would immediately quit the French territories. " I am surprised," added he, " at the chevalier's return to my dominions, knowing, as he does, my engagements with the house of Hanover, and that I have already acknowledged George the First." The chevalier appears to have indulged a sanguine hope that he should have succeeded Queen Anne; but notwithstanding several meet ings were held for the purpose of procuring a repeal of the act of set tlement, and of conferring on her majesty the right of appointing a successor, — and although he possessed a number of powerful friends in this country, — nothing decisive was effected on his behalf, and his cause was ruined as much by the dissensions of the tories as by the skilful and energetic measures of the elector of Hanover's whig supporters. On the day before the arrival of George I. at Greenwich, a proclama tion was issued, offering a reward of £100,000 for the apprehension of the pretender, on the event ofhis landing in this country. Soon after wards, James Frederick sent copies of a spirited declaration of his rights to most of the English nobility. These documents being dated at PJombieres, in the territories of the duke of Lorraine, the latter re ceived a remonstrance from England for harbouring the personal enemy of the. king. The duke replied with civility, but still permitted the chevalier to reside in Lorraine. The zeal of the Scotch Jacobites, on behalf of the exiled prince, was materially increased by their antipathy to the reigning monarch ; and at length, early in September, 1715, he was proclaimed king at Castle town, and his standard set up by the earl of Mar. A large body of his adherents speedily assembled ; many parts of England, as well as a large portion of Scotland, were decidedly in his favour; he was openly proclaimed in Cornwall ; and at Oxford he was so popular, that a collegian there thus addressed one of his friends in London : — " We fear nothing, but drink King James's health daily." " The Scots," says Bolingbroke, who at that time was the chevalier's secretary of state, " had long pressed him to come amongst them, and had sent frequent messages to quicken his departure, some of which were de livered in terms more zealous than respectful." At length on the 22d of December, 1715' he arrived at Peterhead, in the north of Scotland, " when," says Bolingbroke, " there remained no hope of a commotion in his favour among the English, and many of the Scots began to grow cool in his cause. . No prospect of success could engage him in this expedition, but it was become necessary for his reputation. The Scotch reproached him for his delay, and the Frencli were extremely eager to have him gone." From Peterhead he proceeded apparently at his leisure with a few adherents, who, as well as himself, were disguised as naval officers, through Newburgh and Aber deen to Fetteresso, where he was met by about thirty noblemen, in cluding the earl of Mar, and a small party of horse. Having issued a declaration, he sent copies of it all over Scotland, and many of the constituted authorities thought proper to publish it in obedience to his orders. On the 2d of January he quitted Fetteresso, and on the 5th made his entry into Dundee. He then issued several proclamations, by 22 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth one of which he appointed his coronation to take place on the 23d of January, and called a grand council, to whom he delivered the follow ing speech : — " I am now, on your repeated invitation, come amongst you. No other argument need be used ofthe great confidence I place in your loyalty and fidelity to me, which I entirely rely on. 1 believe you are convinced of my intentions to restore the ancient laws and lib erties of this kingdom ; if not, I am still ready to confirm to you the assurance of doing all you can require therein. The great discourage ments which presented were not sufficient to deter me from placing myself at the head of my faithful subjects, who were in arms for me; and whatever may ensue, I shall leave them no reason for complaint, that I have not done the utmost they could expect from me. Let those who forget their duty, and are negligent of their own good, be answer able for the worst that may happen. For me it will be no new thing if I am unfortunate. My whole life, even from my cradle, has shown a constant series of misfortunes ; and I am prepared — if so it please God — to suffer the threats of my enemies and yours. The preparations against us will, I hope, quicken your resolutions, and convince others, . from whom I have promises, that it is now no time to dispute what they have to do. But if they are mindful of their own safety, it will be my great comfort that I have done all that could be expected from me. I recommend to you what is necessary to be done in the present con juncture, and, next to God, rely on your counsel and resolution." This address produced a flash of enthusiasm in the council, which, however, reflection speedily extinguished; and before the meeting broke up it was determined the enterprise should be abandoned, as being ut terly hopeless. But it was necessary, for the chevalier's safety, that the people should not become acquainted with the results of their lead ers' deliberations, until the chevalier had effected a retreat. Prepara tions for the defence of Perth, against the approaching -royal army, were therefore made ; some villages in the outskirts were even burnt, on the ostensible motive that a besieging force might occupy them to the imminent danger of the town ; and expresses were sent out to hurry in all the expected reinforcements. It appears, that although without money, food, or arms, the chevalier wished to maintain Perth, or even to hazard a battle. " The enemy," says the earl of Mar, " was more than eight thousand strong, and we had but two thousand five hundred that could be relied on ; we were in the midst of a severe winter ; were without fuel, and the town was utterly indefensible. We therefore re tired to Montrose, where there is a good harbour. It was now repre sented to the chevalier, that as he had no immediate hope of success, he owed it to his people to provide for his safety, by retiring beyond sea. It was hard to bring him to think of this, though the enemy was in full inarch towards us, and our only chance was to retreat among the mountains ; besides, that while he was with us, the danger to all parties was increased, owing to their eagerness to seize his person. At length he consented, though with great unwillingness, and I dare say no consent he ever gave was so uneasy to him." After having forwarded to the duke of Argyle, the king's general, a considerable sum for the relief of those whose property had been destroyed in the burnt villages near Perth, he directed that nearly all tin- ivmaiudcr ofhis money should be distributed among his adherents, Period.] JAMES FREDERICK EDWARD STUART. 23 reserving little or nothing for himself. Fearing some obstruction to his departure, he ordered his horses and guard to be drawn up in front ofthe house where he lodged, as though he intended to proceed on the march with his forces. He then slipped out at the back door, and hav ing reached the water-side undiscovered, embarked with those whom he had selected as the companions of his flight, on board a small ves sel, which had been destined to carry a gentleman on an embassy to some foreign court. After a voyage of five days, although nine men- of-war were cruizing off the coast to prevent his escape, he arrived, on the 8th of February, in safety at Gravelines. " The chevalier," says Bolingbroke, " was not above six weeks in his expedition. On his return to St Germains, the French government wished him to repair to his old asylum with the duke of Lorraine be fore he had time to refuse it. But nothing was meant by this but to get him out of France immediately. I found him in no disposition to make such haste, for he had a mind to stay in the neighbourhood of Paris, and wished to have a private meeting with the regent. This was refused ; and the chevalier at length declared that he would in stantly set out for Lorraine. His trunks were packed, his chaise was ordered to be ready at five that afternoon, and I sent word to Paris that he was gone. At our interview he affected much cordiality to wards me, and no Italian ever embraced the man he was going to stab with a greater show of affection and confidence. Instead of taking post for Lorraine, he went to the little house in the Bois de Boulogne, where his female ministers resided ; and there he continued lurking for several days, pleasing himself with the air of mystery and business, while the only real business which he should have had at that time lay neglected. The Thursday following, the duke of Ormond brought me a scrap of paper in the chevalier's handwriting, and dated on the Tuesday, to make me believe it was written on the road, and sent back to his grace. The kingly laconic style of the paper was, that he had no further occasion for my services, accompanied by an order to deliver up all the papers in my office to Ormond, all which might have been contained in a moderate sized letter-case. Had I literally complied with the order, the duke would have seen, from his private letters, how meanly the chevalier thought of his capacity ; but I returned these papers privately." Notwithstanding the failure of his recent attempt in Scotland, the chevalier still possessed a great number of well-wishers on both sides of the Tweed. Oxford was still eminently disloyal, white roses, the avowed symptom of Jacobitism being openly worn there on James Frederick's birth-day. Having been compelled at the instance of George I. to retire from Avignon, which he had for some time made his place of residence, the chevalier crossed the Alps, and repaired to Rome, where he was received with great cordiality by the pope. In 1718-19, Cardinal Alberoni, prime minister of Spain, sent him a pressing invi tation to visit the court of Madrid. The emissaries of the English government watched him so closely, that in order to effect a secret retreat from Italy, he was compelled to have recourse to stratagem. The Spanish court received him in a most gratifying manner, and a powerful armament was prepared at Cadiz for the invasion of England; 24 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTM but the expedition was as decidedly unsuccessful as that which had been got up for him by the French king in 1708. Meanwhile a treaty of marriage had been concluded with Clementina Maria, a daughter of Prince Sobieski, eldest son of John, king of Po land. The princess, to the deep dishonour of all the parties concerned in the transaction, was seized while passing through Tyrol in her jour ney towards Rome, at the instigation, it is said, of the British minister at Vienna. After having been kept a close prisoner for some time at Inspruck, early in May, 1719, she escaped in the disguise of a page to -Bologna, where she was married to James Frederick by proxy. So eager did she feel to behold her husband, who was still in Spain, that she was with difficulty prevented from proceeding at once to Madrid. The chevalier soon afterwards returned, and, in commemoration of her escape, caused a medal to be struck, bearing her portrait, and the legend, ' Clementina, Queen of Great Britain, France, and Ireland,' on one side, and on the other a female figure in a triumphal car drawn by horses at full speed, with the words, ' Fortunam causamque sequor,' and under neath, ' Deceptis custodibus, 1719.' The chevalier expected avast for tune with his wife, but he only received a portion out of the Sobieski estate, which, on account of its previous encumbrances, was of very little value. He had two children by the princess — Charles Edward, and Henry Benedict. In 1720, his avowed friend, the king of Sweden, entered into a so lemn engagement with George I. to render the chevalier no assistance , and in the following year died Clement XI. whose favour and protection he had for a long time enjoyed. The expiring pontiff warmly recom mended the exiled prince to the good offices of his successor in the pa pal chair. In 1722, the chevalier sent to tbis country a declaration ofhis rights, which was voted a scandalous libel by parliament, and ordered to be publicly burnt at the exchange. For several years afterwards James Frederick and his personal adherents amused themselves by forming vi sionary schemes for his restoration, but at length he became indolent, and apparently hopeless. He took no part in the romantic expedition of his son in 1745. " By the aid of God," said the young pretender to his father, when preparing to depart for Scotland, " I trust I shall soon be able to lay three crowns at your feet." " Be careful, my dear boy," replied the chevalier, " for I would not lose you for all the crowns in the world." During the remainder of his long life he resided at Rome, under the protection of the pope, but neither honoured nor beloved. He'lived to be pitied by the house of Hanover, and almost forgotten by the chil dren of those ofhis party who would willingly have" died for his bene fit. The following is an abridgment of Keysler's notice of James Fre derick, published in 1756. " The figure made by the pretender is in every way mean and unbecoming. The pope has issued an order that all his subjects should style him king of England ; but the Italians make a jest of this, for they term him ' The local king, or king here,' while the real possessor is styled ' The king there,' that is, in England. " He has an annual income of 12,000 scudi, or crowns, from the pope, and though he may receive.as much Hfrom his adherents in England, it is far from enabling him to keep up the state of a sovereign prince. He is *'erj Period.] JAMES FREDERICK EDWARD STUART. 25 fond of seeing his image struck in medals; and if kingdoms were to be obtained by tears — which he shed plentifully at the miscarriage of his attempts in Scotland — he would have found the medallists work enough. Not to mention the former medals, the one at present in hand shows that his life is not very thick set with great actions, for it relates to the birth of his eldest son, and represents the busts of the pretender and his lady, with this legend, ' Jacob. III. R. Clementina R.' Qn the reverse is a lady with a child on her left arm, leaning on a pillar as the emblem of constancy, and with her right hand pointing to a globe on whicli is seen England, Scotland, and Ireland, the legend - Providentia obstetrix," and below, ' Carlo Princ. Vallise, nat. die ultima A. 1720.' The pre tender generally appears abroad with three coaches, and his household consists of about forty persons. He lately assumed some authority at the opera by calling ' Encore,' when a song that pleased him was per formed, but it was not until after a long pause that his order was obey ed. He never before affected the least power. At his coming into an assembly no English protestant rises up, and even the Roman catholics pay him the compliment in a very superficial manner. His pusillani mity, and the licentiousness of his amours, have lessened him in every body's esteem. His lady is too pale and thin to be thought handsome ; her frequent miscarriages have brought her ver3' low, so that she sel dom stirs abroad unless to visit a convent. She allows her servants no gold or silver lace on their liveries, and this proceeds from what is call ed her piety ; but it is partly owing to her ill health, and partly to the jealousy, inconstancy, and other ill qualities of her husband ; and one of these provocations affected her so much, that she withdrew into a convent, whilst the pretender, to be more at liberty to pursue his amours, went to Bologna. But the pope disapproved of their separate house holds, and fo induce him to return to Rome and be reconciled to his lady, discontinued his pension. Yet the reconciliation was merely for mal ; he pursues his vices as much as ever, and she can never entertain a cordial affection for him again. Mr S — , who affects to be an antiquary, narrowly watches the pretender and his adherents, being retained for that purpose by the British ministry. A few years since, Cardinal Al- beroni, to save the pretender's charges, proposed that the palace Alia Langhara should be assigned for his residence. This house lies in the suburbs, and in a private place, and has a large garden with a passage to the city walls, so that the pretender's friends might have visited him with more privacy, and he himself be absent without its being known in Rome. This change was objected to on the part of England by Mr S — , and did not take place ; but a new wing was built to the preten der's old mansion, he having represented it as too small for him." For five years before his death, James Frederick was too infirm to leave his room. He lost his wife on the 18th of January, 1765, and his own death took place on the 12th day of the same month in the fol lowing year. His remains were interred with extraordinary magnifi cence.' Some interesting observations occur with regard to the chevalier's character in Bolingbroke's letter to Sir William Wyndham, from which the following are extracts. " The chevalier's education renders him in finitely less fit than his uncle, and, at least, as unfit as his father, to be king of England ; add to this, that there is no resource in his under- iv. n 2fi POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth standing. He is a slave to the weakest prejudices ; the rod hangs like the sword of Damocles over his head, and he humbles before his mother and the priest." — " His religion is not founded on the love of virtue and the detestation of vice ; the spring of his whole conduct is fear — fear of the horns of the devil and of the flames of hell. He has all the superstition of a Capuchin, but none of the religion of a prince." — " When the draught of a declaration to be circulated in Great Britain — that dated at Commercy — was to be settled, his real character was fully developed. He took exception against the passages in which the security of the protestant church was promised. He said he could not in conscience make such a promise, ^nd asked warmly why the tories were so anxious to have him if they expected those things from him which his religion did not allow. I left the draughts with him that he might amend them, and, though I cannot absolutely prove it, I firmly believe that he sent them to the queen to be corrected by her confessor. Queen Anne was called, in the original, ' his sister, of blessed and glorious memory ;' in that which he published, ' blessed' was left out. When her death was mentioned, the original said, ' when it pleased Almighty God to take her to himself,' this was erased, and the following words inserted, ' when it pleased God to put a period to her life.' He also refused to allow the term of - blessed martyr' to be applied to Charles." Horace Walpole thus spoke of James Frederick in 1752: " The Che valier de St George is tall, meagre, and melancholy in his aspect : en thusiasm and disappointment have stamped a solemnity on his person, which rather creates pity than respect. He seems the phantom which good nature, divested of reflection, conjures up, when we think on the misfortunes, without the demerits of Charles I. Without the particular features of any Stuart, the chevalier has the strong lines and fatality of air peculiar to them all. He never gave the world very favourable im pressions of him ; in Scotland his behaviour was far from heroic. At Rome — where to be a good Roman catholic it is by no means necessary to be very religious — they have little esteem for him : but it was his ill treatment of the Princess Sobieski, his wife, that originally disgusted the papal court. She, who to zeal for popery had united all its policy, — who was lively, insinuating, agreeable, and enterprising, — was fervently supported by that court when she could no longer endure the mortifica tions that were offered to her by Hay and his wife, the titular countess of Inverness, to whom the chevalier had entirely resigned himself. The pretender retired to Bologna, but was obliged to sacrifice his favourites before he could re-establish himself at Rome. The most apparent merit of the chevalier's court is the great regularity of his finances and the economy of his exchequer. His income, before the rebellion, was about £23,000 a year, arising chiefly from pensions from the pope and from Spain, from contributions from England, and some irregular donations from other courts; yet bis payments were not only most exact, but he had saved a large sum of money, which was squandered on the unfor tunate attempt in Scotland. Besides the loss of a crown, to which he thought he had a just title ; besides a series of disappointments from his-. birth ; besides that mortifying rotation of friends to which his situation has constantly exposed him, he has, in the latter part of his life*, seen ms own little court and his parental affections torn to pieces, and tor- turea by the seeds of faction, sown by that master-hand of sedi ion, the Period.] , RICHARD CROMWELL. 27 famous Bolingbroke, who insinuated into their councils a project for the chevalier's resigning his pretensions to his eldest son as more likely to conciliate the affections of the English to his family. The father and the ancient Jacobites never could be induced to relish this scheme ; the boy and his adherents embraced it as eagerly as if the father had really had a crown to resign. Slender as their cabinet was, these parties divided it." In opposition to Bolingbroke, the earl of Mar, a devoted adherent to the Stuarts, describes the chevalier as having possessed " all the great and good qualities that are necessary for making a people every way happy ;"• and Lesley, a non-juring divine, whom the prince entertained in his household for the purpose of officiating to the protestants in the family, declares that he was magnanimous, tolerant, and devout ; cour teous, sensible, and diligent. attd&arU Cromtotll. BORN A.D. 1626. — DIED A.D. 1712. , Richard Cromwell, eldest son of Oliver Cromwell, lord-protector of the commonwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland, was born at Huntingdon, October 4th, 1626. His early grammar education was completed at Felsted in Essex, under the inspection of his grandfather, Sir James Bourchier, who resided at that place. In his twenty-first year he was admitted to the society of Lincoln's-Inn, but his time was passed rather in the character of a country gentleman than of a civilian. Upon the advancement of his father's fortunes he obtained, a marriage with Dorothy, eldest daughter of Richard Major, Esq. of Hursley in Hampshire, with whom he received a considerable dowry. He appears to have lived in retirement till his father was made protector, being manifestly disqualified for those stormy scenes in which his father took so active a part, as well as disinclined to engage in them. Rural sports and country pleasures, with the peaceful enjoyments of domestic life, ap pear to have been his chief occupations, while his father was settling the affairs of the kingdom. He is reported to have interceded for the life of the condemned monarch. After peace and public order were restored, Richard allowed himself to be returned member of parliament for Monmouth and Southampton. In 1655 he was made first lord of trade and navigation. His father was too wise and able a governor to have advanced him to this important station unless he had perceived in him some qualities that eminently fitted him for the duties of his office, for never was the government of Great Britain more efficiently conduct ed, both in its domestic and foreign departments, than during the pro tectorate. In the parliament which was summoned in August, 1656, Richard Cromwell was returned member for the university of Cambridge and for the county of Hants. The year following Richard had a very narrow escape for his life. The parliament were admitted to the banquetting-house to pay their respects to the protector. A large num ber were crowding the stair-case, when it gave way, and precipitated them into the ha 1 beneath. Richard had several of his bones broken ; 28 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTH but being young and of a vigorous constitution he speedily recovered. In July of the same year the chancellorship of the university of Camr bridge being vacant, by the resignation of the protector, Richard was elected to succeed him ; and to manifest still farther the respect felt by the whole university for Cromwell, his son was created master of arts. The death of the protector followed the year after, when Richard was in the thirty-second year ofhis age. His father is said to have nominated him on his death-bed as his successor, but this is not quite certain. The council, however, sent to him upon the death of his father requesting him tp accept the style and title of protector. For a short time every appearance was favourable to the stability of his power. Some writers have insinuated that he was a man of weak abilities. The greater pro bability is, that such writers were men of strong prejudices; for those , who have condemned the father for aiming at the supreme power are the very persons who reproach his son for resigning it. Richard does not appear to have manifested any deficiency of talent during the short time that he held the reins of government, but. rather to have conducted him self prudently and discreetly; but he was not a spirit to ride the storm, and foreseeing that a dominion which had been purchased at such an expense of blood, could not be maintained without a renewal of former scenes of strife and bloodshed, both wisely and benevolently preferred the abandonment of honour and power. It was a hard task for Oliver himself to control the army, it was therefore not to be expected that a civilian, and one of pacific habits, would ever attempt it, or would ever succeed in his attempt. The republicans were no doubt the first plot ters against the new protector, and they, in their turn, soon found that all their schemes were countermined, and that instead of a protector they must submit to the restoration of the old dynasty. Richard was induced to dissolve his parliament, then call a new one, give up the great seal, quit Whitehall, and finally to send in to the parliament his resignation. Upon this a schedule of his debts, principally incurred for his father's funeral, was made out, and it was promised they should be defrayed, together with a handsome subsistence for liimself and family. The expediency of his abdication, to prevent another bloody contention, is shown by the issue of affairs. Those very persons who had been the agents of accomplishing the abdication, could not finally attain their more remote ends ; for they involved the nation in an unconditional surrender to one of the most worthless creatures that ever sat upon a throne, and precipitated themselves into utter ruin and perpetual disper sion. Chief-Justice Hale strenuously pressed for the requisite condi-. tions, but was overborne ; and so all things lapsed into even a worse state than they had been in before the civil war. Richard, however, deserved his country's thanks for the quiet abandonment of a power which he might have made a severe scourge to many. That he wanted not firmness and ability was evinced by his debating a whole night, al most alone, against the whole council of officers. But he had. other qualities of mind and heart which prevented him from showing his firm ness at the expense of another civil war. When Richard observed the temper of the restored monarch and his advisers, he very wisely withdrew to Paris, where he is said to have lived in disguise and unobserved. Upon a rumour of war between France and England, he prudently removed to Geneva, from whence, Period.] JOHN, LORD BERKELEY. 29 when the alarm subsided, he returned into France, and, with the excep tion of another short interval of residence at Geneva, continued there till the year 1680. By this time the unpopularity ofthe restored family made him bold, and induced him to hope that he might enjoy safety in his native country. He therefore returned, and took up his residence twelve miles from London, at Cheshunt in Hei tfordshire. He assumed the name of Richard Clark, Esq., and was unknown except to a few chosen friends. His last days were grievously imbittered by domestic afflictions, and by the undutifulness of two of his daughters. In 1705 he lost his only son, Oliver, by death. This event entitled him to a life estate in the manor of Hursley, which being a part of his wife's jointure had descended to his son Oliver in his mother's right. Upon the death of his son the old gentleman sent his youngest daughter to take posses sion of the estate. Having done this, she confederated with her other sisters to deprive their father of his interest in it, by alleging that he was superannuated. Thus, regardless of the duties of filial affection, and even ofthe dictates of common humanity, they proposed to allow their father no control over the estate, but merely a small annuity. This base purpose was rendered still more detestable by the exemplary con duct he had always maintained towards his children. His conscious ness of having always treated them with parental fondness was his sup port in this heavy affliction. He was determined not to submit to such treatment from his children in bis last days, when he might justly have expected from them far other conduct. Although he was now in his eightieth year, he manifested sufficient vigour and resolution of mind to resist the confederacy of his children, and in consequence instituted a suit at law against them. The trial terminated in his favour, and in the marked and public disgrace to which his daughters were reduced by the decision of the court. Richard Cromwell continued to enjoy good health and his recovered estate six years after this period. He died July 12th, 1712, at Cheshunt, Hertfordshire, and is reported to have been able to gallop his horse for several miles together till within a short time of his death. His remains were removed with much funeral pomp to the church of Hursley, where they were deposited in the chan cel near those of his wife. BOHN A. D. 1662. — DIED A. D. 1696. " The subject of the present memoir was the second son of Sir John Berkeley, and Christian, daughter of Sir Andrew Piccard, and widow of Henry, Lord Kensington. Sir John had ever shown himself the constant and loyal adherent of Charles I., and afterwards became the no less faithful follower of the apparently ruined fortunes of his son when in exile. Charles II., in consideration of his many eminent services, raised him to the peerage with the title of Lord Berkeley of Stratton, by letters patent, dated at Brussels on the 19th of May, 1658. Charles, the eldest son, entered into the sea service, and fell a victim to the small-pox. On his decease the title devolved on the subject of the pre sent memoir. After having been appointed a lieutenant in the navy on 30 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth the 14th of April, 1685, he was rapidly promoted from thence to be captain ofthe Charles frigate. He proceeded immediately afterwards up the Mediterranean, and on his return received two commissions for different ships successively, the Montague and the Edgar, and was ap pointed to act as rear-admiral of the fleet under the orders of Lord Dartmouth. The honourable manner in which he filled the station last mentioned raised him as high in the estimation of his new sovereign as he had been in that ofhis former master. He was made rear-admiral of the red, and served in that capacity under Admiral Herbert, after wards earl of Torrington. After his return to port he struck his flag, and did not accept of any subsequent command till the year 1693, when, having in the interim been progressively promoted to the ranks of vice- admiral of the blue and of the red squadrons, in the month of July, 1693, on the decease of Sir John Ashby, his lordship was appointed to succeed him, and hoisted his flag accordingly on board the Victory, a first rate. Though the naval operations of this summer were extremely unfortu nate, no blame was ever attached to Lord Berkeley. Even on the sig nal failure ofthe expedition sent out under his orders for the attack of Brest, the public indignation was transferred from his lordship to those who had so impotently and unadvisedly contrived the expedition. He died on the 27 th of February, 1696, being then only in his thirty -fourth. year. At the time ofhis decease he was admiral ofthe fleet, colonel of marines, groom of the stole to his royal highness Prince George, and first gentleman of the bed-chamber. l&tmg, Mavon €aptl. DIED a. D. 1696. Henry Capel, second son of Arthur, first Lord Capel, and brother of Arthur, first earl of Essex, who was implicated with Sydney and Russell, and whose existence was so mysteriously terminated .in the tower, was born in the earlier part of the seventeenth century. On the accession of Charles IL, the services which his family had performed in the cause of royalty obtained for him the favour of the restored sovereign. He was appointed a privy-councillor, and in 1679 placed at the head of the admiralty. He pursued a moderate course in the house of commons at first, but ultimately became a vigorous champion of the popular cause, and seconded the motion of Lord Russell for the bill of exclusion. He supported the revolution, and was rewarded with a seat in the privy-council, and, in 1 692, with the honours of the peerage under the title of Baron Capel of Tewksbury. In 1693, Lord Capel, Sir Cyril Wyche, and William Duncombe, were appointed lords-justices of Ire land ; Capel's whig principles, however, coalesced but ill with those of his two subordinates, and it was soon found necessary to recall the com mission, and to appoint Lord Capel head of the government in Ireland. In this character he ventured to convoke the parliament, and succeeded in executing the king's instructions; he procured the confirmation ofthe act of settlement, and the annulling of the bills of attainder passed in Period.] SPENCER,' EARL OF SUNDERLAND. 31 the pretended parliament of James. He had even the address to pro cure a subsidy of £160,000. We have already, in our opening sketch, adverted to his disputes with his ambitious and intriguing chancellor, Sir Charles Porter. Lord Capel's administration was terminated by his death, on the 26th of May, 1696. Burnett and Oldmixon, though whigs, accuse Capel of unnecessary rigour and severity in his administration ; and the tory historians, Ralph and Smollett, speak in still bitterer terms of him. spencer, <£avl of ^unUerlantj, BORN A. D. 1640. DIED A. D. 1702. Robert Spencer, second earl of Sunderland, was the only son of Henry, third Lord Spencer, who was advanced to the earldom by Charles I., and fell in the battle of Newbury. His mother was Dorothy, daughter of Sidney, earl of Leicester, better known as the Sacharissa of Waller. His early education was carefully conducted ; and before entering into public life, he enjoyed the advantage of several years of foreign travel. On his return to England he was appointed ambassador-ex traordinary to the court of Madrid in 1671, and, in the autumn ofthe following year, went to Paris in the same character. In 1673 he was one ofthe plenipotentiaries for the treaty of Cologne, and, on the 27 th of May, 1674, was sworn ofthe privy-council. He held no specific appointment during the next four years ; but, in July, 1678, he was again sent ambassador-extraordinary to Louis XIV., and, it is supposed by some, was intrusted with the arrangement of those infamous pecuniary transactions into which Charles secretly entered at this time with the French monarch. Whatever the nature of his mis sion was, he acquitted himself in it to the satisfaction of his royal mas ter, and, on his return, in the succeeding year, was appointed principal secretary of state in the room of Sir Joseph Williamson. Rapin says that Sunderland gave Williamson £6,525 to induce hiin to resign. He now coalesced with the duke of Monmouth and the dutchess of Ports mouth, in their endeavours to oust Danby, and place Essex at the head of the treasury. They succeeded in their scheme, and also got Shaftesbury appointed president of the newly modelled privy-council. Essex, Halifax, Sunderland, Shaftesbury, aud Temple, now formed the king's especial cabinet; but the bill of exclusion dissolved this junto. Sunderland voted for it not only " against his master's mind, but his express command," and the king indignantly dismissed him from his secretaryship. He contrived, however, to get restored to his post in January, 1682 ; and, notwithstanding his former vote, and the repeated efforts which he was known to have made to thwart the wishes of the duke of York, and prejudice his interests generally with the nation, yet, on the accession of the new king, he was not only retained in of fice, but rose high in favour at the very moment that his fall and dis grace were considered inevitable. In accomplishing his ambitious views, the earl had in fact sacrificed his conscience by a formal abjuration of the protestant faith, under circumstances which left almost no doubt as 32 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth to the unworthiness of his motives. It has been alleged that Sunder land was pensioned both by the prince of Orange and the king of France, in 1686, and that the fact was well-known to James himself. There is not sufficient evidence to support this allegation, for the pas sage on which it is founded in ' Macpherson's State Papers,' will be found on examination to be not an extract from James's private journal, as it has been represented, but a statement made by the anonymous com piler of James's life on his own authority. Neither is the alleged trans action with Monmouth any better supported. In the same papers there is an account of Ralph Sheldon informing James in the presence of Sunderland himself, that he (Sheldon) was directed by Monmouth to acquaint the king that Lord Sunderland had promised " to meet him," in order to join the insurrection. The anecdote, besides being ex tremely improbable in itself, rests only on the testimony of the anony mous writer already referred to, and is unsupported by any reference to the king's own memoirs. In February 1685, Spencer succeeded Halifax in office of president of the council, while he still retained that of secretary of state. His negotiations with the party of the prince of Orange at last became evi dent to the whole court, and the catholic party clamoured loudly for his dismissal. Yet, on the arrival of William, Sunderland fled to the con tinent, and he was specially excepted from the acts of indemnity and free pardon, which the new sovereign promulgated in 1690 and 1692. It is not easy, therefore, to account for the marvellous facility with which the earl at last replaced himself in the administration of this country. Burnet declares that " he gained an ascendant over William, and had more credit with him than any Englishman ever had." He was not, indeed, brought forward in any specific office in the state, but he was virtually the prime minister, for the king gave himself up to his advice, until he found that the nation would no longer bear the approach of such a man to the royal ear. He reluctantly yielded to the clamour raised against his favourite by all parties, and allowed the earl to retire into privacy, at his seat in Northamptonshire, where he died in Sep tember, 1702. '• Lord Sunderland," says Burnet, " was a man of a clear and a ready apprehension, and a quick decision in business. He, had too much heat," he adds, " both of imagination and passion, and was apt to speak very freely both of persons and things. His own notions were always good, but he was a man of great expense, and, in order to the supporting of himself, he went into the prevailing counsels at court; and he changed sides often, with little regard either to religion or to the interests of his country." "&itt=mmital Sfofm Mt it&ato, BORN A.D. 1650. DIED A.D. 1702 This eccentric but gallant naval officer was descended from a good family in the county of Salop, that had sacrificed its property to its loyalty during the civil wars. He was born about the year 1650, at Cotton-hill, near Shrewsbury. His father, Colonel John Benbow, dy Period.] JOHN BEXBOW. 33 ing when his son was yet a boy, and leaving no property for the youth's support, the lad was apprenticed, by some humane friends, to a mer chant-captain. He conducted himself so well that, before he had com pleted his thirtieth year, he became master and partly owner of a trig little merchant-vessel called the Benbow frigate. While thus occupied, a singular anecdote is related of him, which at once displays, in the most forcible colours, his gallantry and his very whimsical turn of mind. He was attacked in his passage to Cadiz by a Sallee rover, against whom he defended himself with desperate valour, though his crew was very inferior in numbers to his opponents. At last the Moors boarded him, but they were quickly beaten out of his ship again, with the loss ol thirteen men, whose heads Captain Benbow ordered to be cut off, and thrown into a tub of pork pickle ! On arriving at Cadiz, Benbow went on shore and ordered a negro, servant to follow him, with the Moors' heads in a sack. He had scarcely landed before the officers of the revenue inquired what he had in his sack. The captain answered, " Salt provisions for my own use." " That may be," answered the officers ; " but we must insist upon seeing them." Benbow replied that he was no stranger there, and pretended to be much offended that he was suspected. The officers told him that the magistrates were sit ting not far off, and that if they were satisfied with his word, his ser vant might carry the provisions whither he pleased, but that, as for them selves, it was not in their power to act otherwise than they did. The eaptain at last consented to go before the magistrates ; they marched to the custom-house, Mr Benbow in the front, his men in the centre, and the officers in the rear. The magistrates, when he came before them, treated Captain Benbow with great civility ; told him they were sorry to make a point of such a trifle ; but that, since he refused to show the contents of his sack to their officers, the nature of their em ployment obliged them to demand a sight of them ; and that, as they doubted not they were salt provisions, the act of showing them could be of no consequence one way or the other. " I told you," says the captain sternly, "• they were salt provisions for my own use. Csesar, throw them down on the table ; and, gentlemen, if you like them, they are at your service I" The Spaniards were exceedingly struck at the sight -of the Moors' heads, and no less astonished at the account of the captain's adventure, who, with so small a force, had been able to defeat such a number of barbarians. The fame of Benbow's valour and exploits at last reached the ears of the English government, who at once issued a captain's commission to him, and appointed him to the command of the York, of sixty guns. This was in 1689 : next year the earl of Torrington made him master of his own flag-ship, the Sovereign. Perhaps Benbow shared for a time in the disgrace of his superior, for we find no subsequent mention made of him till 1693, when he was appointed to the Norwich, and sent out with a squadron to bombard St Maloes. His services on this, and several other similar occasions, gave much satisfaction to the govern ment, and were rewarded by his elevation to the rank of rear-admiral of the blue. When ministers suspected that the court of France was meditating a blow at our colonies in the West Indies, Benbow was despatched with an armament for their protection. He fulfilled his mission admirably, iv. e 34 -POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth and as a second time despatched on the same errand. King William, on this last occasion, thinking it hard that a man wbo had so very re cently returned from such a disagreeable service should be again sent out, wished some other officer appointed ; but none could be found, in whom the ministry had sufficient confidence, willing to undertake a ser vice in which there was so little probability of acquiring either honour or advantage. Perceiving this, the king is said to have wittily ex- ' claimed : " Well then, as I find I must spare our beaux, I will send Benbow I" From the moment he received official information of the rupture between Great Britain and France, he redonbled his activity; and having got his ships in the best condition for service his circum stances would permits put to sea from Port-Royal on the 11th of July, having with him eight ships of the line, a fire-ship, a bomb-ketch, and a sloop. His intention was to form a junction with rear-admiral Whet stone, whom he detached a few days before ; but having received ad vice on the 14th that Du Casse was expected at Loogane, in Hispani ola, he directed his course thither ; and though not fortunate enough to meet with Du Casse there, his disappointment found some palliative in the destruction of a French ship, carrying fifty guns. Having thus effected all the mischief he was capable of doing the enemy in this quarter, he again put to sea on the 2d of August in pursuit of Du Casse. On the 19th ofthe same month he fell in with ten sail to the westward of St Martha, which he very soon discovered to be French. Their force consisted of four ships of from seventy to sixty-six guns each, a large Dutch built frigate mounting nearly forty guns, a transport with troops, and four small vessels. Benbow immediately made the signal for his squadron to form, he himself being, as is customary, in the cen tre ; but the dilatoriness of many of the captains prevented the line from being properly arranged till the day was too far advanced for him to expect any material advantage ere night would put an end to the encounter. He resolved, however, to make the attempt; but the ab solute flight of Captain Kirby, who commanded the Defiance, of sixty- four guns, and the misbehaviour of Captain Constable in the Windsor, of sixty, contributed to render the short action much less decisive than it might have proved. Indeed the whole weight ofthe engagement lay upon the Breda, the vice-admiral's ship, and, in all probability, he would have fallen a sacrifice to his own gallantry, had he not been most ably supported by Captain Walton, in the Ruby, of forty-eight guns. Benbow, in the hope of reclaiming his recreant officers, made an alter ation in his line of battle, and led the van himself on. both tacks in the Breda. In this expectation, however, he was unfortunately disappoint ed, for at break of day, on the morning of the 20th, he found himself close to the enemy, without a single ship near him except the Ruby ; the remainder of the squadron were three, four, and five miles astern. But though the admiral appeared to be so deserted, the enemy seemed irresolute, and afraid of making use of that advantage which fortune had thrown in their way. Although the Breda was within gun-shot of them, they suffered her to remain unmolested, and a breeze springing up about three o'clock, crowded all the sail they could to avoid any further encounter. The admiral and Captain Walton attacked with their chase-guns ; but night came on, and the French ships continued their retreat, without having suffered any material damage. On the Period.] JOHN BENBOW. 35 21st the engagement was renewed at break of day ; for the admiral, with his gallant second, had succeeded in keeping close antagonists during the whole of the night. The Breda had the good fortune to drive one of the largest of the enemy's ships out of the line ; but the Ruby being small, and ill adapted to contend against such powerful ships as Du Casse had with him, the vice-admiral was obliged to send his own boats to tow her out of reach. No other ship of the British squadron came up during the whole of this day's encounter, and the contest consequently remained undecided, the enemy using every effort to escape, while Benbow was equally active on his part to prevent their flight. On the 22d, the Greenwich, of fifty-four guns, commanded by Captain Wade, was near three leagues astern, although the signal for the line of battle had never been struck, from the hour it was first hoisted on the 19th ; the rest of the squadron, however — the. Ruby excepted, which was in a very wretched and disabled state — were pretty well up with the Breda; but the whole of the day passed on without its being possible for the admiral to effect any thing decisive. Appearances, on the morning of the 23d, were still more inauspicious ; the enemy were six or seven miles a-head, and the English squadron very much scatter ed, several of the ships being four or five miles astern ; but the exer tions of the admiral were such, that in spite of every impediment, he nearly closed with the French by ten o'clock, and after exchanging several shots with two ships, captured the Anne galley, an English vessel, which Du Casse had taken on his passage to the West Indies. The Ruby being found too much disabled to be capable of rendering any further assistance, was ordered to Port-Royal. The ensuing night put an end to the contest, which, though it terminated unfortunately, ended most gloriously for the reputation of Benbow. " On the 24th," says the Journal of the encounter, " at two in the morning we came up within hail of the sternmost ; it being very little wind, the admiral fired a broadside, with double and round below, and round and car tridge aloft, which she returned. At three o'clock the admiral's right leg was shattered to pieces by a chain-shot, and he was carried down ; but presently ordered his cradle on the quarter-deck, and continued the fight till day, when appeared the ruins of a ship of about seventy guns ; her mainyard down, and shot to pieces ; her fore-topsail shot away ; her mizenmast shot by the board ; all her rigging gone, and her sides bored through and through with our double-headed shot. The Falmouth as sisted in this matter very much, and no other ship. Soon after day the admiral saw the other ships ofthe enemy coming towards him with a strong gale of wind easterly ; at the same time the Windsor, Penden- nis and Greenwich, ahead of the enemy, ran to leeward of the disabled ship, fired their broadsides, passed her, and stood to the southward ; then the Defiance followed them, passed also to leeward of the disabled 'hip, and fired part of her broadside. The disabled ship did not fire above twenty guns at the Defiance, before she put her helm a-weather, and ran away right before the wind; lowered both her topsails, and ran to leeward of the Falmouth, which was then a gunshot to leeward of the admiral, knotting her rigging, without any regard to the signal for battle. The enemy seeing our other two ships stand to the southward, expected they would have tacked and stood with them. They brought lo with their heads to the northward ; but seeing those three ships did 36 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth hot tack, bore down upon the admiral, and ran between the disabled ship and him, firing all their guns, in which they shot away his main topsail yard, and shattered his rigging much. None of the other ships being near him, nor taking any notice ofthe battle signal, the captain of the Breda hereupon fired two guns at those ships ahead, in order to put them in mind of their duty. The French, seeing this great dis^ order, brought to and lay by their own disabled ship, remanned, and took her in tow. The Breda's rigging being much shattered, she lay by till ten o'clock ; and being then refitted, the admiral ordered the captain to pursue the enemy, who was then about three miles distant, and to leeward, having the disabled ship in tow, steering N.E,, the wind at S.S.W. The admiral, in the mean time, made all the sail after them he could; and the battle-signal was always out. But the enemy, taking encouragement from the behaviour of some of our cap tains, the admiral ordered Captain Fogg to send to the captains to keep their line, and to behave themselves like men, which he did. Upon this, Captain Kirby came on board the admiral, and pressed him very earnestly to desist from any further engagement, which made the ad miral desirous to know the opinion of the other captains. Accordingly he ordered Captain Fogg to make a signal for all the other captains to come on board, which they did, and most of them concurred with Cap tain Kirby in his opinion ; whereupon, the admiral perceiving they had no mind to fight, and being not able to prevail with them to come to any other resolution, though all they said was erroneous, he, thought it not fit to venture any further. At this time the admiral was abreast of the enemy, and had a fair opportunity of fighting them ; the masts and yards in good condition, and few men killed, except those on board the Breda." Du Casse himself is said to have most grievously condemned that cowardice and misconduct which saved him from destruction ; and he is even reported to have written Benbow a letter with his own hand, couched in the following terms : — " Sir ! I had little hopes on Monday last but to have supped in your cabin, but it pleased God to order it otherwise ; I am thankful for it. As for those cowardly captains who deserted you, hang them up, for by they deserve it Yours, " Du Casse." Benbow finding it impossible to effect any thing decisive against the enemy, till the ships under his orders were commanded by other offi cers, returned to Jamaica, where it was found necessary to amputate his shattered limb, for the purpose of preventing mortification. A fever ensued, which, though his robust constitution held out for a long time, at length put a period to his life on the 4th of November, 1702. Samuel $*pgs. BORN a., D. 1632. — DIED a.. D. 1703. Samuel Pepys was descended from a younger branch of an old Nor- folkshire family of that name, which had settled at Cottenham in Cam bridgeshire early in the sixteenth century. Younger sons are prover bially richer in blood than money, and we must not therefore be sur- prised to find that this branch of the family had fallen somewhat away PriUOD.] SAMUEL PEPYS. JJ7 from the dignity of the parent stem. In point of fact, Pepys' father was a tailor. Samuel, the subject of this memoir, was his eldest sur viving son, and was born on the 23d of February, 1632. He was edu cated in the metropolis at St Paul's school, from whence he moved in 1651 to Trinity, and subsequently to Magdalene college, Cambridge. Having, we presume, completed his education, his next step was to take unto himself a wife; and, with less prudence than he usually displayed, he selected a girl of fifteen, well-descended, and very beautiful, but pen- nyless as himself. Years after, when he had risen to almost affluent circumstances, we find that one morning he " Lay long in bed, talking with pleasure with my poor wife, how she used to make coal fires and wash my foul clothes with her own hand for me, poor wretch." For tunately for Pepys, he had an influential cousin, Sir Edward Montague, afterwards earl of Sandwich, who gave him shelter and some sort of employment in his own house, and to whose patronage Pepys owed his jirosperity. He accompanied Sir Edward in his expedition to the Sound in 1658, and on his return was promoted to an office in the ex chequer connected with the payment of the army. Up to this period Pepys had probably entertained opinions not very favourable to the restoration. This may easily be gathered from hints in his diary. On the 15th of July, 1665, he "Met with Sir James Bunch. ' This is the time for you,' said Bunch, ' that were for Oliver heretofore ; you are full of employment, and we poor cavaliers sit still and can get nothing,' which was a pretty reproach, I thought, but an swered nothing to it, for fear of making it worse."1 But the time had now come when such sentiments would be an effectual bar to any rise in life, and Pepys was too prudent and pliable a man to let his con science mar his fortune. It was in 1660 that he began his diary, and it is extremely interesting to peruse the little notices which he has set down of passing events — many of them indeed mere straws, but indicative of the quarter to which the" wind was now veering. In one place we are told that Barebones' windows were horribly broken last night ; then again, that the butchers at the maypole in the Strand rang a peal with their knives when they were going to sacrifice their rump, — that the king's arms were set up here and there, and the mercers were privately making a statue of the king, — that a great bonfire is made in the ex change, and people call out ' God bless King Charles the Second!' and finally comes the great fulfilment of all these signs, when amidst an in finite crowd of people and horsemen, and with shouting and joy beyond all imagination, the king arrives. Pepys was on board the vessel which conveyed the king to this country, and his narrative of the voyage is very amusing. As soon as things were brought into some state of order, Pepys was made clerk of the acts of the navy, and in this post he acquitted himself with great credit. The business-talents and the diligence wliich he dis played, yapidly recommended him to the favour of the duke of York, 1 A rather ludicrous passage to the same effect occurs in his diary of November 1st, 1660. " Here dined with us two or three more country gentlemen, among the rest Mr Christmas, my old school-fellow, with whom I had much talk. He did remember that I was a great Roundhead when I was a boy, and I was much afraid that he would have remembered the words that I said the day the king was beheaded, (that were I to preach upon him, my text would be, ' The memory of the wicked shall rot,') but I found after wards that he did go away from school before that time." 38 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth with whom, as head of the navy, Pepys bad frequent opportunities of intercourse. He seems, indeed, to have exerted himself with the most laudable industry. Through his exertions new regulations were intro duced into the management of the navy and dockyards, the rapacity of the contractors was checked, and care was taken that the state suffered from none but royal peculation. Though the comparison of Pepys to Agricola be ridiculous, he did at least resemble him in one point,— " diligentissima conquisitione fecit, ne cujus alterius sacrilegium respub- lica, quam Neronis, senssiset." During the time when London was sc awfully ravaged by the plague, Pepys was the only officer in the navy department who ventured to remain in London, and of this memorable visitation, as well as of the great fire, he has left us some very curious particulars. In 1668, he, along with the other persons connected with the admiralty, was charged in the house of commons with having been guilty of such gross neglect in his department as had led to De Ruyter's success in his expedition against Chatham. The duty of conducting the de fence devolved on Pepys, and, in consequence, he makes a speech of three hours and a half in length at the bar of the house, and with so much elo quence, that he and his colleagues are unanimously acquitted. We have in his diary a most amusing scene of anxiety before, and gratified vanity after the delivery of his great oration. Altogether, the passage is so good, that we must extract some portion of it ; premising, however, that in all probability Pepys' friends had previously entertained no great opinion of his rhetorical powers, and on finding that he played his part better than was expected, took occasion, from his evident self-gratula- tion, to launch out into a strain of extravagant compliment. Before making the speech he seems to have been very nervous. " And to comfort myself," says he, " did go to the Dog and drink half a pint of mulled sack, and in the hall did drink a dram of brandy at Mrs Hewlett's ; and with the warmth of this did find myself in better order as to courage, truly." The following day his honours shower down on him in a perfect tor rent. " 6th. Up betimes, and with Sir D. Gauden to Sir W. Coven try's chamber, where the first word he said to me was, ' Good morrow, Mr Pepys, that must be speaker of the parliament-house,' and did pro test I had got honour for ever in parliament. He said that his brother, that sat by him, admires me ; and another gentleman said that I could not get less than £1000 a year if 1 would put on a gown and plead at the chancery bar. But, what pleases me most, he tells me that the so licitor-general did protest that he thought I spoke the best of any man in England. My Lord Berkeley did cry me up for what they had heard of it ; and others, parliament-men there about the king, did say that they never heard such a speech in their lives delivered in that man ner. From thence I went to Westminster-hall, where I met with Mr George Montague, who came to me, and kissed me, and told me that he had often heretofore kissed my hands, but now he would kiss my lips, protesting that I was another Cicero, and said all the world said the same of me. Mr Godolphin ; Mr Sands, who swore he would go twenty miles at any time to 'hear the like again, and that he never saw so many sit four hours together to hear any man in his life as there did to hear me. Mr Chichly, Sir John Duncombe, and every body do say that the kingdom will ring of my abilities, and that I have done myself Pehiod] SAMUEL PEPYS. 39 right for my whole life ; and so Captain Coke and others of my friends say that no man had ever such an opportunity of making his abilities known. And, that 1 may cite all at once, Mr Lieutenant ofthe Tower did tell me, that Mr Vaughan did protest to him, and that he in his hearing said so to the duke of Albemarle, and afterwards to Sir William Coventry, that he had sat twenty-six years in parliament and never heard such a speech there before; for which the Lord God make me, thank ful I and that I may make use of it, not to pride and vain-glory, but that, now I have this esteem, I may do nothing to lessen it." Pepys certainly took some pains to fulfil his prayer, for although he afterwards held a seat in parliament for a number of years, he contented himself with the laurels he had already won, and never ran the risk of tarnishing their lustre by another display. In 1669, he was obliged, by a weakness of his eyes, to discontinue his diary. He now made a tour through France aud Holland, shortly after returning from which, his wife, to whom he seems to have been steadily attached, died. Through the interest of the duke of York, he stood, about this time, candidate for Aldborough, but the interest of the popular party was stronger than had been anticipated, and he was defeated. In 1673 he was chosen member- for Castle- Rising, but here again he was unfortunate, for the house of commons was so zealously protestant, that they turned him out on a groundless charge of popery. Had they said that he was a care less Gallio, who loved his own interest better than any religion, the ac cusation would have worn a greater semblance of truth. When the duke of York, in consequence of the passing ofthe test act, retired from the management ofthe admiralty, Pepys was taken into the immediate service of the king, and advanced to the post of secretary for the affairs of the navy. This advancement was followed by an awkward charge of his having been concerned in communicating intelligence to the French, with whom we were then at war, and he was in consequence committed to the Tower ; but we may presume him innocent, as he was discharged for want of evidence after a short imprisonment. In 1680, on a change being made in the constitution of the admiralty, he was dismissed from office, though not in accordance with the king's wishes ; and his conti nuance out of place was not of long duration, as in a few years after wards he was sent on the Tangiers expedition, and appointed to his for mer post of secretary. This office he filled till the revolution. When that great event took place, it was not to be expected that much consi deration should be shown for one who had been so tried and intimate a friend of the exiled monarch. It is a singular proof of the estimation in which James held him, that when news was brought of the landing of the deliverer, the king — who was then sitting to Sir Godfrey Kneller for a picture intended as a present to his faithful secretary — with the utmost sangfroid commanded the artist to proceed, " that his good friend might not be disappointed." Not content with depriving him of all his offices, the revolution party, for whose fears it must be allowed circumstances gave some warrant, committed him to the Gatehouse prison on suspicion of disaffection, but he was speedily released on pleading ill health, and it does not appear that the charge was ever afterwards noticed. Though he had retired into the shades of private life, he was still looked upon, and frequently consulted, as an oracle in the management ofthe navy. His retirement was spent in a more dignified manner than the pursuits and 40 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth events of his previous life would have led us to anticipate. In corres pondence with literary men of the day, in association with learned friends, and in the collection of a fine library, he found sufficient to oc cupy his time. He had been president of the Royal society in 1684, and after that time had been in the habit of having a conversazione every Saturday evening at his own residence, to which he attracted some of the naost learned members of that body. Evelyn appears to have been a pretty constant attendant, as indeed he was one of the most intimate friends our ex-secretary had, and expressed great regret when Pepys was obliged by ill-health to discontinue them. In the year 1700 he was persuaded to remove from town for the benefit of country air, and accordingly went to reside at Clapham in the house of an attached friend and former dependant, who paid to him all possible attention. He had laboured for some years under attacks of the stone, for which in his early daysiie had undergone an operation. Of course it was in vain to hope that a drive on Clapham-common would remove this ter rible disorder. After lingering for three years, he expired on the 26th of May, 1703, The property which he left behind him was much smaller than was anticipated, much of his estate having been dissipated by his hospitality, his mania for rare books, and the careful education he had bestowed on his nephews. His books and manuscripts he be queathed to Magdalene-college, of which he had been a member. They are well known to literary men under the title of the Pepysian collec tion. Pepys is one of those instances occasionally to be met with, of men destitute of extraordinary merit, but pushed forward by circumstances to a prominence which others of much higher desert strive vainly to obtain. This distinction he owes to his diary, but we are not sure that it is a distinction which many will envy. His diary begins in 1660, and spreads over a period of nine or ten years. He commenced it ori ginally for the purpose of having a record of bis most private thoughts and feelings, and to make himself perfectly secure that the contents should be known to no eyes but his own, he wrote it in a peculiar cy pher. Of course we have his genuine and candid feelings, and his equally impartial notices of passing events, for no man could be such a fool as to tell lies to himself. Unfortunately in some respects for the author's memory, the secret of this cypher was discovered, and a trans lation ofthe diary was given to the world some years ago.' The records which he kept of his life and actions were so exceedingly minute, that the editor was compelled to omit many passages as too trivial, or other wise unfit to meet the public eye. Enough, however, remains to make it one ofthe most entertaining books of gossip in the world; and, in deed, we question whether any language can furnish its equal. No man writing for the public will write with perfect . honesty. He may reveal enough of himself, as Rousseau did, to show that he is a scoundrel, but he never will knowingly consent to make himself ridiculous. The sel fish feelings, — the interest we take in insignificant matters, — the incon gruity of our emotions frequently with those which custom or propriety dictates, — the little pieces of self-flattery which we whisper to our own ears, — are things which we cannot reveal, even to a friend, and much less therefore to a mocking public. Boswell has approached more nearly to our author in this respect than any other writer with whom we are Period.] SAMUEL pepys. 41 acquainted, but he follows at a long interval. To the student of char acter it presents an ample field of observation. Pepys united with a very fair proportion of private honour and integrity, the most complete apathy as to any thing like public spirit or public principle. Diligent in business — by no means, so far as we can see, given to peculation — exact in performing the duties ofhis office— anxious that all in his de partment should be executed skilfully and honestly — he seems to have dreamed of no other public virtue ; and while the duke was pleased, or Sir William Coventry satisfied, he was well content. It is idle to talk, as one or two have done, of his possessing high principle. The information obtained from his diary is more amusing than instruc tive, and more curious than useful. Nearly all that he mentions relat ing to public affairs was already known, and his evidence is therefore principally valuable as affording fresh testimony, and that the testimony of an eye-witness, to the truth of our histories. There are, too, some interesting notices not readily to be met with elsewhere ; such, for in stance, as the following narrative of the death ofthe young, high-mind ed, all-accomplished, Sir Henry Vane. " 14th. About 11 o'clock, having a room got ready for us, we all went out to the Tower-hill ; and there, over against the scaffold, made on purpose this day, saw Sir Henry Vane brought. A very great press of people. He made a long speech, many times interrupted by the sheriffe and others there ; and they would have taken his paper out of his hand, . but he would not let it go. But they caused all the books of those that writ after him to be given the sheriffe, and the trumpets were brought under the scaffold that he might not be heard. Then he prayed, and so fitted himself and received the blow ; but the scaffold was so crowded that we could not see it done. He had a blister, or issue, upon his neck, which he desired them not to hurt. He changed not his colour or speech to the last, but died, justifying himself and the cause he had stood for ; and spoke very confidently of his being presently at the right hand of Christ ; and in all things appeared the most resolved man that ever died in that manner." Besides this, there are a number of passages scattered up and down the work, which introduce to ns in one way or another almost all the distinguished men of the time ; and we gain a more intimate, or, so to speak, personal knowledge of the great lord-chancellor, Clarendon, when he is led down stairs, " having the gout," and talks with Mr Pepys " moat friendly, yet cunningly," for an hour, than from the most elabor ate dissertation on his character. The king, he tells us, spoke worse than any man he ever heard in his life. In another part, we find the king drinking the duke of York's health on his knees, " and then all the company ; and having done it all fell a crying for joy, being all maudlin and kissing one another ; the king the duke of York, and the duke of York the king, and in such a maudlin pickle as never people were : and so passed the day." Yet these were the times of right divine and pas sive obedience ! The following passage is valuable as the evidence of a contemporary, and may help to put to silence the ignorance of the foolish men who annually rejoice over the happy restoration in church and state. " It . is strange how every body do now-a-days reflect upon Oliver and com mend him, what brave things he did, and made all the neighbour princes iv. F 42 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth fear him; while here is a prince, come in with all the love and prayers and good liking of his people, who have given greater signs of loyalty" and willingness to serve him with their estates than ever was done by any people, hath lost all so soon,- that it is a miracle what a man could devise to lose so much in so little time 1" The most valuable part of Pepys' diary is that which gives us an in sight into the manners and habits, both of action and feeling, which pre vailed at the time. A most interesting paper might be written by drawing together and illustrating the most striking of these notices, but our limits are already touched upon, and we must hasten to a conclu sion. Whatever be. the most valuable part of the diary, the most amus ing is unquestionably that which relates to himself individually. Indeed we know of nothing more ludicrous than much of what he records. It is like obtaining a bird's-eye view of some lively friend who is solilo quizing, or dancing, or rhetorizing, in the innermost recesses of his study, with all the freedom of fancied solitude. The naivete of the fol- lowing is admirable. " Sir William Petty tells me that Mr Barlow is dead, for which (God knows my heart) I could be as sorry as is pos sible for one. to be for a stranger by whose death he gets £100 a year." We are made the confidants of his innermost feelings and most trivial actions. No new dress is put on, or party of pleasure formed, without being faithfully recorded. In his dresses he especially luxuriates, owing, the reviewers maliciously hint, to his being the son of a tailor. He was evidently a great sight-seer and news-monger. No exhibition of " fo reign wonders" is to be seen, or new play produced, without his pre sence ; and even when he deems it unbecoming his dignity, as an offi cial man, to be seen at the theatre, he goes disguised. He seems, te have been very fond of seeing the court- beauties, and indeed he is some times placed in situations which could not be altogether pleasing to Mrs Pepys. In one place he sees " the finest smocks and linen _petticoats of my Lady Castlemaine's," which- it did him good to look at. There are some amusing entries, from which it may be gathered that he. slily indulged a passion for a certain Mrs Mercer, a waiting maid, and occa sional companion of Mrs Pepys; and it is curious to observe how he ab stains from acknowledging, even to himself, this amourette, while the fact of its existence breaks out in several places. We do not know how we can better conclude our sketch than by giving the reader the follow ing specimen of the candour with which he is treated. " We supped at home and very merry. And then about nine o'clock at Mrs Mercer's gate, where the fire and boys expected us, and her son had provided abundance of serpents and rockets: and there mighty merry (my Lady Pen, and Peg, going thither with us, and Nan Wright) till about twelve at night, flinging our fire-works and burning one another and the people over the way. And at last our businesses being most spent, we in to Mrs Mercer's, and there mighty merry, smutting one another with candle grease and soot, till most of us were like devils. And that being done, then we broke up and to my house; and there I made them drink, and up stairs we went, and then fell into dancing, (W. Batelier dancing well) and dressing him and I and one Mr Bannister (who with my wife came over also with us) like women; and Mercer put on a suit of Tom's like a boy, and mighty mirth we had j. —and Mercer danced a jig ; and Nan Wright, and my wife, and Peggy 1 PERIOD.] HENRY, EARL OF WARRINGTON. 43 Pen, put on periwigs. Thus we spent till three or four in the morning — mighty merry." We fear that we have occupied a larger space by this 'memoir than might fairly be awarded to Pepys' merits, but his diary is such a singu lar production, and it is so rare in the list of politicians to find any thing amusing, that we hope to be excused. It is but fair to add, that appended to his diary are to be found many letters from Pepys to his friends, or vice versa, which exhibit him in a much more respectable and dignified light than any in which we have represented him. S?enr2>, €ari of Wamngton. BORN A. D. 1651. — DIED A. D. 1693. Neither the exact time of the birth of this nobleman, nor yet any account of his infant years, remain on record : the first mention made of him being, " that during the life of his father, he was knight of the shire for the county of Chester, in several parliaments, in the reign of King Charles II." In the house of commons he constantly showed himself a firm opposer of arbitrary power, and a steady friend to the rights of the people. He exerted himself in support of the bill of ex clusion ; and in the speech which he made on that occasion, he endea voured to prove — to use his own words — -that " the next of kin has not so absolute an inherent right to the crown, but that he may, for the good of the nation, be set aside ;" as all government was instituted for the benefit of the people, and not for the private interest of any par ticular family or individual. He was very solicitous to have procured an act for the punishing those who were known to have received bribes from the court, in the parliament which was styled the Pension Parliament, in the reign of King Charles II. In the speech which he made on this subject in the subsequent parliament, he said, " Breach of trust is accounted the most infamous thing in the world, and this these men have been guilty of to the highest degree. Robbery and stealing our law punishes with death, and what deserve they who beggar and take away all that the nation has, under the pretence of disposing of the people's money for the hon our and good of the king and kingdom." He proposed, that a bill should be brought in, by which these hireling senators should be ren dered incapable of serving in parliament for the future, or of enjoying any office, civil or military; and that they should be obliged, as far as they were able, to refund all the money which they had received for secret services to the crown ; or, in other words, lor betraying their constituents. " Our law," said he, " will not allow a thief to keep what he has gotten by stealth, but, of course, orders restitution ; and shall these proud robbers of the nation not restore their ill-gotten goods." His defence of the bill of exclusion, and opposition to the measures of the court in other instances, rendered him so obnoxious to the duke of York, that by his influence he was committed prisoner to the Tower. On Thursday the I4th of January, 1685, he was brought to his trial in Westminster-hall, before the lord-chancellor Jefi'eries, who was his personal enemy,"" and who was constituted lord-high-stevvard on that 44 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth occasion. He was not tried by the whole house of peers, though the parliament was then actually existing by prerogative ; but by a select number of seventy-seven peers, summoned by the lord-high-steward for that purpose. He protested against this irregularity; but his ob jections being overruled, the trial proceeded. However, he made so full and clear a defence, that the peers, appointed to try him, unani mously acquitted him. After this Lord Delamer lived in a retired manner in the country, much honoured and beloved, till measures were concerted for bringing about the Revolution, in which he very heartily concurred. On the prince of Orange's landing in England, his lordship, in a few days, raised a great force in Cheshire and Lancashire, and therewith marched to join that prince. On the prince's arrival at Windsor, in his approach towards London, Lord Delamer, together with the marquess of Halifax and the earl of Shrewsbury, were sent with a message to King James, to remove from Whitehall. Lord Delamer, though no flatterer of the king in his prosperity, was too generous to insult him in his distress, and treated the fallen monarch with great respect. Walpole says, "_ that Lord Delamer, who was thrice imprisoned for his noble love of liberty, and who narrowly eseaped the fury of James and Jefferies, lived to be commissioned by the prince of Orange to order that king to re move from Whitehall, — a message which he delivered with a generous decency." Out of the forces which were raised by Lord Delamer to join the prince of Orange, a regiment of horse "was afterwards formed, the com mand of which was for some time committed to him as colonel ; and this regiment served in Ireland during" the war in that kingdom. On the 14th of February, 1689, Lord Delamer was sworn a privy-coun cillor ; and, on the 9th of April following, he was made chancellor and under-treasurer of the exchequer. On the 12th of the same month he was also made lord-lieutenant of the county and city of Chester. This last office, together with that of privy- councillor, he enjoyed for life; but as to the others, he continued in them for about one year only. Mr Walpole says, " He was dismissed by King William, to gratify the tories." However,- it was not thought advisable to displace a noble man who had contributed so much towards the Revolution in a diso bliging manner ; and, therefore, he was, by letters-patent, bearing date, Westminster, 17th of April, 1690, created earl of Warrington, in the county of Lancaster. His lordship was thus characterised in a poem* written in the reign of King William : — " A brave asserter of his country's rights r A noble, but ungovernable fire, — Such.is the hero's, — did his breast inspire. Fit to assist to pull a tyrant down ; ¦Rut not to please a prince that mounts the throne. Impatient of oppression, still he stood His country's mound against th' invading flood. He died in London on the 2d of January, 1693, in the forty-second year ofhis age, and was interred in the family vault of Bowden-churcb, in the county of Chester. He was a nobleman illustriously distin guished for his oublic spirit and his noble ardour in' defence of the lib- P"RI0n.] SACKVILLE, EARL OP DORSET. 45 erties of his country. He considered patriotism essential to the char acter of a virtuous man. In his ' Advice to his Children,' he says, " There never yet was any good man who had not an ardent zeal for his country." In his private life he appears to have been a man of piety, worth, honour, and humanity. His works, which were published in one volume, 8vo, in 1694, contain his ' Advice to his Children,' an * Essay on Government,' several of his speeches in parliament ; fifteen small Political Tracts or Essays ; and ' The Case of William, earl of Devonshire.' He also wrote ' Observations on the Case of Lord Rus sell,' for whom he had a great friendship, and who, on the morning of his execution, sent him a very kind message, expressive of his regard for him. ^acitbUle, Carl of Starstt BORN a. D. 1637. DIED a. D. 1705. Charles Sackville, sixth earl of Dorset and Middlesex, one of the most accomplished libertines of the most licentious age of English history, was the direct descendant of Queen Elizabeth's Lord Buck- hurst, and the inheritor of his ancestor's poetical genius. He was pri vately educated, and, after making the grand tour, returned to Eng land a little before the Restoration. In the first parliament subsequent to that event, he was chosen representative for East Grimstead in Sus sex, and made a considerable figure in the house as a speaker. Charles II. offered him employment under the government, but he was too much set upon the gratification of his pleasures to engage seriously in any thing like business. The associate of Villiers, Rochester, Sedley, and other profligate men of fashion, he entered into much of their pro fligacy. Wood has preserved an anecdote sufficiently illustrative ofthe debauched habits of the young nobility after the Restoration. He in forms us that Sackville, Sir Charles Sedley, and Sir Thomas Ogle, hav ing, on one occasion, got themselves supremely drunk in a tavern near Covent-garden, went into a balcony, and commenced haranguing the populace, and playing a number of mountebank tricks. Not satisfied with the applause and notoriety thus obtained from the rabble, Sedley at last stripped himself naked, and in this style stood forth, and began to harangue the assembled crowd in such profane language, that even the indignation of the mob was roused, and an attack was made upon the house in which the three libertines had established themselves. For this misdemeanor they were indicted, and Sedley was fined £500. He employed Kiiligrew and some other friends to procure a remission of his fine, and they succeeded so far as to obtain from ' the merry mon arch' liberty to divide it among themselves, which they did, exacting the fine from Sedley to the utmost farthing. In 1665, on the breaking out ofthe first Dutch war, Sackville awoke to something like the consciousness of a manlier spirit than he had hitherto exhibited. He placed himself as a volunteer under his royal highness, and conducted himself well in the action of the 3d of June. It was on the evening preceding this engagement that he composed the well-known song, — ' To all you Ladies now at Land.' Soon after, he 46 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth was made a gentleman of the bed-chamber, and sent on several unim portant embassies to France. Upon the death of his uncle Cranfield, earl of Middlesex, in 1674, the estates devolved upon him, and two years afterwards he succeeded by creation to the title. He also succeeded to his father in 1677. In 1684 he was constituted lord-lieutenant of Sussex. He early engaged for the prince of Orange, and accompanied the Princess Anne on her flight from her father s court. On the succession of the prince and princess of Orange to the throne, Dorset was sworn of the privy-coun cil, and made lord-chamberlain of the household. He had the honour of being four times appointed regent of the kingdom during his majes ty's absence. In 1698 he retired somewhat from public life ; he spent the remainder of his years in comparative obscurity. He died at Bath in January 1705-6. Horace Walpole has passed this high eulogium upon Dorset, that " he had as much wit as his first master Charles II., or his contemporaries, Buckingham and Rochester, without the king's want of feeling, the duke's want of principle, or the earl's want of thought." Prior, Dryden, Congreve, Addison, and Pope, write in the praises of this nobleman. Pope's lines commencing— " Dorset, the grace of courts, the muse's pride, are well-known, and sufficiently complimentary. gfa €loutsts\tg £$>« Period.] WILLIAM DAMPIER. 57 reign of James II. he composed another legal argument, the subject of which was the king's power to dispense with penal statutes, and which was suggested by the well-known case of Sir Edward Hales. In this treatise he considers at large the doctrine of the king's dispensing power. It is clearly and candidly written, and the truth of the reason ing against the royal prerogative contended for by the judges in Hale's case will hardly be denied at the present day. Sir Robert zealously promoted the revolution, and was made lord- chief-baron of the exchequer in May, 1 689. In October following he succeeded the marquess of Halifax as speaker in the house of lords, and sat as speaker till the great seal was given to Sir John Somers in 1693. In the month of October of this last year, when the lord-mayor- elect was sworn in before him, Sir Robert made a singular speech, in which, after drawing a terrible picture of the designs of the French monarch, he hints his shrewd suspicions that " perhaps he (Louis) does take upon him to know, by the help of some confederacy with him that is prince of the power of the air, that the wind shall not serve in such or such a corner until such a time. He knoweth when our royal navy is to be divided, and when it is united. And shall I guess how he comes to have such intelligence? -That were well worth the hearing," con tinues his lordship — and we can fancy the worshipful mayor and alder men pricking up their ears to hear the chief-baron tell the curious tale — " I would but guess at it," his lordship goes on to say, " and I would in my guesses forbear saying any thing that is dishonourable to any among ourselves." He then edifies the worthy citizens with his views of the nature and employments of evil spirits, and draws this most po tent conclusion, that " wicked spirits hovering in the air " report to Louis from time to time what the English fleets and armies are doing I The best apology that we can make for this extraordinary exhibition, is to remind the reader that Sir Robert was at this time beyond his seventieth year. He retired from the bench in June, 1695, but lived to the age of eighty-eight. His writings have been published in one volume, octavo, under the title of ' Parliamentary and Political Tracts.' His son, Sir Robert Atkyns has obtained some celebrity as an anti quarian writer. William 3©ampin\ BORN a. D.~1652.--— DIED A.D. 1712. This celebrated navigator was born in 1652. He was descended from a good family in Somersetshire, but losing his father when very young, and being of an errant disposition, he was bound by his guard ians apprentice to the master of a trading vessel belonging to Wey mouth. After seeing a variety of service, and being wounded in the war with the Dutch, he sailed for Campeachy with a Captain Hudsel, on a mer cantile speculation. The success of this voyage encouraged him to take a second trip, during which he conceived the idea of exploring the Musquito shore in company with a Mr Hobby. They had proceeded no farther on their voyage than the west end of Jamaica, when all the lv." H 58 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth men resolved to go on a buccaneering expedition to the Spanish main^ and Dampier himself was also prevailed on to accompany them. After an attack on Porto-Bello, they set forth on the 5th of April, 1680, across the isthmus of Darien, and when they reached the South seas, embarked in such canoes and vessels as the Indians furnished them with. By the 23d of April they i-eached Panama, and, after a fruit less attack on Puebla Nova — in which assault they lost Captain Saw- kins, who till then acted as their commander — they steered their course to the southward for Peru. They continued in the South seas, vari ously occupied in cruising, but with indifferent success, against the enemy, and quarrelling amongst themselves, till the month of April, 1681. A separation then took place between the two contending par ties ; the most numerous body continued with a Captain Sharp. Dam pier, with the remainder, amounting to about fifty persons, embarked to seek their fortunes in other quarters, furnished only with a large boat, or launch, and one or two canoes. After escaping a multitude of dangers from the Spanish guarda-costas, Dampier and his people agreed to run on shore, and return back over the isthmus to the gulf of Mexico. They began their march on the 1st of May, 1681, and, after a tedious and dangerous journey of twenty- three days, got on board a buccaneer lying near the mouth of the river Conception, commanded by Captain Tristram, a Frenchman. This vessel, with several others manned with crews of the same profession, continued cruising with moderate success till the month of July, 1682, when they put into Virginia. A new band of adventurers was formed here in the following year, consisting of several of those who came from the South seas with Dampier, and some newly entered men, making al together a crew of seventy persons. Their vessel, which was called the Cygnet, was well-equipped for the intended service, mounting eighteen guns, and well-stored with every thing necessary for a cruise in the South seas, whither it was determined to proceed. They sailed from Virginia on their intended voyage on the 23d of April, 1683, — passed through the straits of LeMaire,and round Terra del Fuego, — and arrived at the island of Juan Fernandez, March 22d, 1684. Having refreshed their people, they sailed from Juan Fernandez, after a stay of sixteen days, and cruised in the South seas with very good success, being afterwards joined by several adventurers in the same line. They made some va luable prizes/ but were disappointed in the object of their principal hope and pursuit, the capture of the Spanish fleet bound from Lima to Panama. They were, however, by turns unfortunate and successful in a variety of petty enterprises which they undertook ; the most memor able of these was the surprise of the city of Leon, which they sacked and burned. They continued afterwards to cruise on the coast of Mexico till the 31st of March, 1686, when, having parted company with all their former companions, and being now reduced to the num ber of one hundred and fifty persons on board one ship and a tender, Dampier and his party took their departure from Cape Corrientes, on the coast of California, for the East Indies. They made the island of Guam on the 20th of May, and on the 2d of June sailed from Guam for Mindanoa, one of the Philippine islands, whieh they reached on the 22d of the same month. They continued at this place till the middle of January, 1 687, when they left the river* P*Ill°r>-] WILLIAM DAMPIER. 59 Mindanoa, intending to cruise off Manilla. The repeated feuds and disturbances among the crew,— their irregular, riotous mode of con ducting themselves,— and, above all, the disreputable occupation itself, tended at this time to induce Dampier to quit them. After a little altercation, he was at length put ashore on the isle of Nicholas, with a Mr Hall, and a man named Ambrose; and having escaped many dangers, he arrived at Bencoolen, where he was well-received, and appointed master-gunner of the Dutch fort there. Still, however, he continued uneasy, anxiously looking for an opportunity to return to England, which at last he happily effected by creeping through one of the port-holes of the fort, and getting on board a ship belonging to the English East India company. Dampier himself does not make any mention of his being engaged in any subsequent voyage for the space of eight years, but having about the year 1698 been recommended by Mr Montague, president of the royal society, to the eari of Oxford, at that time first lord of the admi ralty, he was, on the 26th of July, raised to the rank of captain in the royal navy, and appointed to the Roebuck, a small frigate, at that time under equipment for a voyage of discovery. In this vessel, which mounted only twelve guns, he sailed from the Downs on the 14th of January, 1698-9. As the vessel had been purposely victualled and fitted for a voyage of twenty months' duration, he proceeded by Tene- riffe and the Brazils to the Cape of Good Hope, and from thence to New Holland, — an immense tract of country, little known previous to his time, and in the examination of which he made very considerable progress. The Roebuck was ultimately wrecked on Ascension island, but Dampier and his crew were relieved from their confinement on the island by the arrival of some English vessels. It appears that a good deal of censure was indulged in on this occasion in some quarters. Dampier feelingly complains, in his dedication to the earl of Pembroke, of the third volume of his voyages, " The world is apt to judge of every thing by the success ; and whoever has ill fortune, will hardly be allowed a good name. This, my lord, was my unhappiness in my late expedi tion in the Roebuck, which foundered through perfect age near the island of Ascension. I suffered extremely in my reputation by that misfortune, though I comfort myself with the thoughts, that my ene mies could not charge any neglect upon me ; and since I have tbe ho nour to be acquitted by your lordship's' judgment, I should be very humble not to value myself upon so complete a vindication." The London Gazette contains the following notification : " St James's, April 18th, 1703. Captain William Dampier being prepared to depart on another voyage to the West Indies, had the honour to kiss her ma jesty's hand on Friday last, being introduced by his royal highness the lord-high-admiral." It appears, however, that he did not sail on this expedition till the year 1704. In the course of it he took the town of Puna in the South seas, but putting into Batavia on his return, he was imprisoned by the Dutch, who seized on all his effects. He returned to England after his release, but is not known to have ever afterwards been employed in the royal navy. There is indeed a report that he was dismissed or suspended from the service, by the sentence of a court- martial, for misbehaviour, and ill-treatment of his officers and people ; but this circumstance is by no means sufficiently established to warrant 60 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth our positive assertion of it. He afterwards accompanied Captain Woodes Rogers in his voyage round the world, in the capacity of master, and returned with him to England, where he arrived on the 1st of October, 1711. No particulars are known relative to him after this time. Ths history of his voyages, particularly the first, has been translated into most European languages. It was first published in three vols. 8vo. London, 1697. We shall present our readers with one passage from Dampier's nar rative, which sufficiently proves that he was an acute observer, and ad* vanced in intelligence, on some points, beyond his age. After narrating the circumstances of an atrocious attack upon a small English trading- vessel, he proceeds thus : — " The people of Barcalis, therefore, though they are Malayans as the rest of the country, yet they are civil enough engaged thereto by trade ; for the more trade, the more civility ; and, on the contrary, the more barbarity and inhumanity. For trade has a strong influence upon all people who have found the sweets of it, bring ing with it so many of the conveniences of life as it does; and I believe, that even the poor Americans, who have not yet tasted the sweets of it by an honest and just commerce, even such of them as yet seem to court no more than a bare subsistence of meat and drink, and a clout to cover their nakedness. That extensive continent hath yet millions of inhabitants, both the Mexican and Peruvian parts, who are still ignorant of trade ; and they would be fond of it, did they once experience it, though they at present live happy enough, by enjoying such fruits of the earth as nature has bestowed on those places where their lot is fallen ;— --and it may be, they are happier now, than they may hereafter be, when more known to the avaricious world. For, with trade, they will be in danger of meeting with oppression, — men not being content with a free traffic, and a just and reasonable gain, especially in those remote countries ; but they must have the current run altogether in their own channel, — though to the depriving the poor natives they deal with of their natural liberty, as if all mankind were to be ruled by their laws. The islands of Sumatra and Java can sufficiently witness this ; the Dutch having in a manner engrossed all the trade of these, and se veral of the neighbouring islands, to themselves ; not that they are able to supply them with a quarter of what they want, but because they would have all the produce of them at their own disposal. Yet even in this they are short, and may be still more disappointed of the pepper trade, if other people would seek it ; for the greater part of the island of Sumatra propagates this plant ; and the natives would readily comply with any who would come to trade with them, notwithstanding the great endeavours the Dutch make against it ; for this island is so large, po pulous, and productive of pepper, that the Dutch are not able to draw all to themselves. Indeed, this place about Barcalis is in a manner at tlieir devotion ; and, for ought I know, it was through a design of being revenged on the Dutch, that Captain Johnston lost his life. I find the Malayans, in general, are implacable enemies to the Dutch ; and all seems to arise from an earnest desire they have for a free trade, whicb is restrained by them not only here, but in the spice islands, and all other places where they have any power. " But it is freedom only must be the means to encourage any of these remote people to trade, especially such of them as are industrious, and Period] SIDNEY GODOLPHIN. 61 whose inclinations are bent this way, as most of the Malayans are, and the major part of the people of the East Indies, even from the Cape of Good Hope eastward to Japan — both continent and islands. For though, in many places, they are limited by the Dutch, English, Danes, &c. and restrained from a free trade with other nations ; yet have they continually shown what uneasiness that is to them. And how dear has this restraint cost the Dutch I — when, yet, neither can they, with all their forts and guardships, secure the trade wholly to themselves, any more than the Barlaventa fleet can secure the trade of the West Indies to the Spaniards." MlMtSi <3o1ial$l)in, <£arl ot <£. 1666. — DIED A.D. 1720 Admiral Leake was the second son of Captain Richard Leake, mas ter-gunner of England, — an appointment considered at that day of no mean consequence. Sir John was born at Rotherhithe in the year 1666 ; and having entered into the navy at an early age, served as a midshipman on board the Royal Prince, in the ever-memorable sea- fight which took place between the English and Dutch fleets on the 10th of October, 1673. We find him present at the battle of Bantry-bay, as commander of the Firedrake fire-ship, to which he had been ap pointed on the 24th of September in the preceding yeaft His father, who appears to have been a man possessing considerable science in his profession, had invented a particular species of ordnance, which threw a small "shell or carcass, like the more modern invention of the cohorn or howitzer. Young Leake having, under his instruction, acquired considerable adroitness in the management of this piece of artillery, threw several carcasses with such effect as to set on fire one of the enemies' line of battle ships, commanded by the Chevalier Coetlo- gon. Admiral Herbert particularly noticed his merit on the occasion, and rewarded it by promoting him to be captain of the Dartmouth, a ship of forty guns. Shortly after the death of Williaiu III. it was de termined that a powerful armament should be sent to sea, under the command of the earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, then lord-high- admiral of England. On this occasion Captain Leake was strongly recommended by his friend, Mr Churchill, to his lordship, who ap pointed him his captain. The death of the king caused the removal of the earl of Pembroke from the admiralty board, for' the purpose of making room for Prince George of Denmark, and cancelled the ap pointment of Mr Leake. As a recompense, however, for this disap pointment, he was made captain ofthe Association, a second rate; and in Period.] SIR JOHN LEAKE. 93 less than three weeks was removed from that ship into the Exeter, of sixty guns, and ordered to Newfoundland on an expedition against tbe fishery and colony established there by France. Soon after his return in the month of December, 1702, he was advanced to the rank of rear-ad miral of the blue, and commander of the ships at Spithead. Early in the year 1704, the vice-admiral was appointed to command the convoy ordered to Lisbon for the protection of the immense fleet of transports and store-ships sent thither for the service of King Charles III. Im mediately previous1 to this, he received the honour of knighthood, and having reached the Tagus with his important charge in perfect safety, put himself in the month of March under the orders of Sir George Rooke. In the April following he accompanied Sir George on his very successful cruise into the Mediterranean. The fleet was on its return from thence, as it is reported, to Lisbon ; but this resolution was changed, while on their passage thither, by the recommendation, and as many people, with apparent truth, insist, by the express advice of Sir John Leake, who proposed to attempt Gibraltar by a coup de main. The success which attended the execution of this spirited project is well known. In the battle of Malaga, which took place in the month of August following, Sir John, who had his flag flying on board the St George, a second rate, commanded the leading division of the blue, which Was the van-squadron. In the month of January, 1705, he was joined at Lisbon by Sir Thomas Dilkes, who reinforced him with a squadron of five ships of war, carrying with him, at the same time, a commission, appointing him vice-admiral ofthe white squadron, and commander-in- chief of her majesty's ships and vessels employed in the Mediterranean. Having on the 6th of March collected his whole force, he proceeded from the Tagus at the head of no less than thirty-five ships of the line, twenty-three of which were English, and the remainder either Dutch or Portuguese. His arrival in the bay of Gibraltar was a second time so sudden, ahd so totally unexpected by the enemy, that he had the good fortune completely to surprise the Baron de Pointi, together witb the whole of his squadron, consisting of five ships of the line, whicli had in vain attempted to co-operate with the army that besieged it. During the summer of the year 1706, Sir John Leake commanded in chief in the British channel. In the ensuing year, having been ap pointed admiral of the white, and commander-in-chief of the fleet, he was sent again into the Mediterranean. While on his passage thither, having had the good fortune to fall in with a numerous fleet of victual lers belonging to the enemy, he captured no less than seventy-five sail, which he carried with him to Barcelona. After having relieved Bar celona, and convoyed thither the consort of King Charles, with a con siderable reinforcement of troops which accompanied her from Italy, he proceeded to Sardinia, which island he speedily reduced, as he im- mediately.jafterwards did Minorca, — services so highly advantageous to the common cause, that medals were struck for the purpose of per petuating the memory of them. He returned to England in the month of October, having been appointed, during his absence, one of the council to Prince George, the lord-high-admiral. Sir John, however, scarcely reached England in time to take his seat at the board, the prince dying on the 28th of October, only six days subsequent to his 94 POLITICAL SERIES- [Sixth arrival. The earl of Pembroke, who succeeded the prince in his of fice, again appointed Sir John admiral of the home, or channel fleet, for the ensuing year ; and, on the 24th of May, he was created, by letters patent, rear-admiral of Great Britain. When the preliminaries of peace were signed in the year 1712, Sir John was sent with General Hill, in the month of July, to take posses sion of Dunkirk, according to the treaty ; and having, on his return from thence, struck his flag, he never again accepted of any naval command. Owing to some court cabal, and the personal dislike to Sir John,. entertained by some individuals who possessed irresistible influence in the councils of King George I., the admiral, although it was impossible for the most inveterate malice to affix the slightest stigma or slur on his character, was most unjustly and scandalously dismissed, not only from the admiralty board, but from every appointment he held., Re tiring to a country villa, erected by himself near Greenwich, he con tinued ever afterwards to live a private life. He died on the 21st of August, 1720. Santas Crasss* DIED A. D. 1720. The patronage of the dutchess of Marlborough elevated this indi vidual from an exceedingly obscure situation to the office of joint post master-general. He was the son of a barber, and received his early education at Chelsea. He was attached to various embassies, and was sent with the intelligence of Queen Anne's death to the British resi dent at Hanover. Lord Sunderland set him up as a rival to Walpole; and, it-is probable, that, had he lived long enough, if he did not co alesce with, he would have been exceedingly troublesome to that celebrated minister. He succeeded Addison as secretary of state; and, on several occasions, acted as a lord-justice during the king's visits to Hanover. He became deeply involved in the South sea bubble, hav ing, with his father, according to the report of the committee of se crecy, held fictitious stock to the amount of £36,000. Pending the parliamentary inquiry on the subject that ensued, he fell sick of the small-pox, and died, at an early age, in 1720. Craggs appears to have been a man of pleasure, talent, and great suavity of manners. He patronised Pope, who wrote an epitaph to his memory ; and Gay, to whom he made a present of South sea stock; also Addison, Warburton, and Kneller. He frequently deplored the meanness of his birth, of which he was sometimes reminded by his no ble contemporaries. On one occasion, he remarked to the duke of Buckingham, who had spoken with great severity against ministers, — " Let what will be said, your grace knows that business must be car ried on ; and the old proverb is true, that ' the pot must boil. " " Ay, replied the duke, " and there is, as you know, Mr Secretary, as old, and as true a proverb, that, ' when the pot boils, the scum floats upper most.' " ERI0D.] 95 ^f)tffiel&, JBtifet of Wot inanfig anU ISttrftmg:-- framsJjtre. BORN A.D. 1649. DIED A.D. 1721. If the principal charm of biography consisted in recounting swelling ties, aristocratic pride, and high official situation, few could desire a tore interesting life to narrate than that on which we are entering. iut the mists of the valley gradually gather around all accidental istinctions, and the, eye of the student who scans history that he may iarn what to admire and imitate, reverts to him only whose inborn irtue has raised him to an eminence above the smoke and stir of or- inary life. John Sheffield was the only son of Edmund, earl of Mulgrave, and as born in the year 1649. He was early left an orphan by the death f his father in 1658. The state of the country at that time possessed ttle attraction for a young scion of aristocracy, and his tutor deemed expedient to carry him abroad, in-order that his studies might be lore successfully prosecuted. The young earl is said, when no more lan twelve years of age, to have summarily dismissed his tutor, for a idicrous inconsistency which he discovered between his precepts and raetice.1 Great praise is bestowed upon him by his biographers, for resolution which he is said to have made when his tutor was dismissed, f supplying the deficiencies of his education by his own industry ; and nquestionably to pursue a course of study was highly commend- ble in a mere boy, who had so many allurements to idleness. When e learn that his studies were undertaken chiefly for the sake of rival- ng the gallants of the day in knowledge, and/ lhat they never detained im more than " several hours in the day ' from his pleasures, we are Dmpelled to qualify our praise. Along with his appetite for know- :dge, he imbibed a thirst for military glory. In 1666 he went to sea s a volunteer in the first Dutch war. In the following year he ob- tined the command of one of the troops of horse, raised to defend the rmntry in case of an invasion. On the meeting of the parliament in •ctober, 1667, he was summoned, in spite ofhis extreme youth, to fill is place as a peer, but the summons being strenuously opposed by the iri of Rochester, was afterwards cancelled. He would have been a rodigy had he escaped uncontaminated from the flood of licentiousness hich at this period was sweeping down all the old barriers of morality s might be expected, he sailed with the tide, or rather he outstripped in his headlong career of debauchery. He had early in life entered imself amongst the worshippers ofthe muses; and his poetical powers, ich as they were, he employed to heighten the relish of his amours. hese merjts — that is to say, debauchery, and the power of writing The story is, that while in France he was earnestly advised by his tutor not to kneel the mass was carried through the street, since such an act was nothing better than olatry. Resolved to follow this pious counsel, he was in such a hurry, when next he met e procession of priests bearing the mass, to get out of the road, that he stumbled over s governor whom he found already on his knees close behind him. This story is not very likely one, but it has been preserved. What is not interesting that relates to a' ike? .^-~-_ 96 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth smutty rhymes — raised him to some notice at court, and enabled him to do Dryden material service in gaining the situation of poet- laureate. In 1672 he went out again as a volunteer against the Dutch. He dis tinguished himself by his bravery, and, on his return to London, was promoted to the command of the Royal Catherine, at that time the best among the second-rate ships in the navy. With this honour he was especially delighted : it gave him, he says, more pleasure than any favour he afterwards received from the court. So true it is, that the first distinction we attain is the sweetest. There has been more than one instance of men, whose lives have been, as it were, crowded with honours, looking back to some early and comparatively unimportant triumph, a college honour or a maiden speech, with a keener delight than the most brilliant of their subsequent successes could awaken. In the following year we find him colonel of a regiment of his own rais. ing, to which was added, shortly afterwards, the command of the old Holland regiment. On May 29th, 1674, he was installed into the order of the garter, and made a gentleman of the bed-chamber. These civil honours, glittering enough, but otherwise of no interest, did not content him, for in the following year he made a campaign in the French service under Turenne. ¦ A long story is told by some of his biographers — himself among the number — of intrigues which were car ried on at this period about the office of colonel to the first regiment of foot-guards ; but it would be tedious to narrate, and sufficient is known when we say that he failed in his effort to obtain the command, but had subtlety enough to prevent the success of the person who opposed him. In 1679, on the disgrace ofthe duke of Monmouth, he was made lord- lieutenant of the county of York and governor of Hull ; and in the same year he wrote an essay, entitled, ' The Character of a Tory,' which was designed as an answer to the marquess of Halifax's ' Character of a Trimmer ;' but which cannot, for a moment, be compared with that able pamphlet, either as a piece of argument or of elegant writing. Though he does not proceed to the ultima Thule of tory principles— the doctrine of passive obedience — he borders on it as closely as possi ble. Indeed we cannot see, for our own parts, why, when he admits the king's dispensing power, he should not take one step farther and make his system harmonious by denying the right of the subject to resist. The concluding passage is so characteristic of the writer, that we must be permitted to quote it : — " Whereas, our poor trimmer blames people for so monopolizing the prince's favour, that the poor trimmer can get none of it, I confess 'tis true, but methinks not very strange. I allow his simile to. hold good, that not only these gentle men, (the ministry,) but any other men in the world, even trimmers themselves, would engross the sunshine with the hazard of being burnt,- . in case there were not enough of it for every body. And for my part, though it is a great fault in mankind, I cannot but charitably forgive it, because I am one of that race myself; and bad is the best of us, whig, tory, and trimmer." It is this hard unblushing selfishness which makes the writings of the pseudo-wits of Charles the Second's reign so pe culiarly disgusting. It may be true that Sheffield has rightly stated the general feelings of statesmen ; but surely this distinct avowal and semi-/.; commendation of them is an efficacious method of extinguishing all generous emotion or lofty principle in nobler spirits. 1U0D.] SHEFFIELD, DUKE OF NORMANBY, &C. 97 In 1680 Tangier was besieged by the Moors, and the earl, having luuteered his services, was sent to its relief. It is said that the ship, pointed by the king to convey him, was in such a leaky condition as give rise to a suspicion that his life had been aimed at, and that on ¦covering this, he would not allow the king's health to be drunk on ard the vessel till they were safely landed. His expedition was im- idiately successful, for the Moors retired without striking a blow, d on his return his anger against the king was speedily dissipated by turning kindness. Mulgrave had always lived on terms of great in - nacy and friendship with the duke of York, and when the duke as- nded the throne he was immediately sworn ofthe privy council, and, a little time afterwards, appointed lord-chamberlain of the household. the measures of this disgraceful reign he bore a considerable part. He is one ofthe members ofthe ecclesiastical commission. After the Revo- tion he was, on this account, brought into some trouble, from which the sistance of Tillotson rescued him. In a letter to Tillotson he attempts defend, or rather palliate his conduct by asserting his ignorance ofthe fice being unconstitutional. This is an expedient to which a man of uch talent would never have resorted ; for such gross ignorance as his :cuse implied was to the last degree disgraceful. He complied so far ith the wishes of his sovereign, as to attend and kneel at mass ; but hen urged by the popish priests to throw off the garb of protestant- m, which, indeed, had always hung very loosely about him, he re- ied, as we are informed by Burnet, that he was willing to receive struction, and that he had taken much pains to believe in God, who ade the world and all men in it; but that he should not easily be per- laded that man was quits, and made God again.2 Though the earl took no part in bringing about the Revolution, ;eping himself at a most sedulous distance from the bold, and- of some e may say, honest men who effected that gi'eat change, he lent him- lf willingly to the establishment of a new government. He did not, swever, desert his old master with the heartless treachery which char- rterizecl Halifax and others. When a letter was brought from the ing to the council, stating that he was in the hands of the rabble at eversham, and praying for protection, Mulgrave was the only man ho had courage to bring the letter forward openly ; and though much ispleasure was expressed by some members of the council, and means ere tried to thwart his endeavours to obtain relief for the ill-fated rinee, he manfully persisted, and at length compelled them, for very lame, to send a body of troops to the king's release. In the same ay, when the house of the Spanish ambassador was pulled down by io mob, he took upon himself, though no longer in office, to order nartments for the ambassador at Whitehall. For some time after the evolution he remained out of office. It is said that he was personally aplied to by William to join the government, but refused for a long me, and the story gains some credit from the circumstance of his be- ig created marquess of Normanby in 1694. His scruples must have * After relating this story, Dr Johnson remarks, " A pointed sentence is bestowed by iccessive transmission on the last it will fit : this sentence of transubstanliation, whai- rer be its value, was uttered long ago by Anne Askew, o>ie of the first sufferers for the rotestant religion, who, in the time of Henry VI II. was tortured iu the Tower/' — Lives 'Ihs Poets. IV. N 98 POLITICAL SEK1KS. [Sixth been ultimately overcome, for before the end of William's reign he entered the cabinet council, and received a pension of £3000 a-year. Tradition states, that in his younger days he had been a suitor, and not quite an unfavoured one, to the Princess Anne. If this be true, it ac counts for his rapid advancement on Anne's ascent to the throne. In 1702, just before her coronation, he was made lord-privy-seal, and shortly afterwards lord-lieutenant and custos-rotulorum of the north- riding of Yorkshire. In the ensuing October he was chosen one ofthe commissioners to treat of the union between England and Scotland; and, in March 1703, he was first made duke of Normanby, and a fort night subsequently, duke of Buckinghamshire. These honours, instead of binding hirn to the queen's service, served only to inflame, to a higher pitch, his natural arrogance'. Becoming jealous of the duke of Marlborough, he resigned his offices, — refused to accept the chancellor ship offered to him by the queen, who was anxious to appease him, — and so far lost command of his temper as to break out into satire even against her majesty. While thus unembarrassed by the cares of office, he employed himself in building the magnificent house in James's park, which has since become one of the royal palaces. After dinner he was accustomed to spend a good part of the evening in gambling, and scan dal adds that he did not gain the reputation of a fair gamester. On the change of ministry in 1710, he once more accepted office, and we are, therefore, to regard him as concurring in the general policy of Harley's weak and wicked ministry, — a ministry which was built on the tongue of a shrew, an*d the intrigue of a waiting woman, and overthrown by internal dissension. When Harley, in his turn, fell through the machi nations of a still bolder intriguer, Buckingham clung to hiin, and be came a steady opponent of the measures of the succeeding administra tion. His idle hours were spent in writing indifferent tragedies and bad poetry. He expired on the 24th of February, 1721. His corpse lay in almost regal state for some days at Buckingham-house, after which it was conveyed, with a magnificence which scarcely became a subject, to Westminster-abbey, and there interred. A splendid monu ment was erected to his memory in Henry the Seventh's chapel ; and the following inscription, which he had himself written, was inscribed upon it along with his name and titles : — Dubius sed non improbus vixi, Incertus morior et inturbatus. Humanuin est nescire et errare. Christum adveneror, Deo confido Omnipotent^ Benevolentissimo, Ens entium miserere mihi.3 He was thrice married, and each time to a widow. By his first and second wife he had no children ; but by his third — who was a Lady Katharine Darnley, a natural daughter of James the Second, and who had been married to the earl of Anglesea, from whom she was parted at her own suit — he had several. One only of these survived their father, Edmund, a youth of high promise, who was unfortunately cut \ * We have given the inscription as it was written by Buckingham himself. The whole of it was not inserted, as Atterbury thought the words Christum adveneror too tame for the walls of the abbey. This passage was accordingly struck out. Period.] JOHN, DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 99 off at an early age. His mild virtues have been celebrated in some beautiful lines by Pope, and in an elegy upon him by Lord Orrery, the conclusion of which is very elegantly turned. Besides these he had a number of illegitimate children, to one of whom his estate ultimately lapsed. If there be any fatality connected with a title, there is no honour which a wise man would more sedulously shun than the dukedom of Buckinghamshire. Not to speak of its more ancient or more modern possessors, let us take the three dukes who flourished respectively in the reigns of Charles I., Charles II., and Anne, and though springing from two perfectly different families, we shall find the same character pre dominant in all. Forthe honour of human nature, we trust that no other title ever was held by three such owners in succession. Disgustingly licentious in private, and factious in public life, — arrogant beyond en durance, — -endowed with abilities not much above mediocrity, — and wrapped up in a selfishness which had not one redeeming feature ; all lived unhououred and died unlamented. If the duke, whose life we have been sketching, differed in an3' thing from the rest, it was that his arrogance rose to a still higher pitch. We have already mentioned that the duke of Buckingham aspired to fame as an author. Horace Wal pole says that he wrote in the hope of being confounded with his pre decessor, Lord Sheffield. His poems have received the praise of many high names in English literature, such as Dryden, Pope, and Addison; but now that the charms of title and wealth have passed away, no eye can discover their merits. His Essay on Poetry is the best of his per formances, and has received the highest commendations ; but the most substantial and valuable mark of honour was bestowed on his ' Essay on Satire,' since Dryden was beaten on a suspicion of his having writ ten it. Sir Walter Scott, in his life of Dryden, speaks of this poem very contemptuously, though not unjustly. " The whole Essay is a mere stagnant level, and no part of it so far rises above the rest as to bespeak the work of a superior hand. The thoughts, even when con ceived with some spirit, are clumsily and unhappily brought out." His works were printed after his death in two magnificent quarto volumes; but the publication was suppressed. They afterwards ap peared more modestly in two vols. 8vo. Bofm, Suite of ffitetlbovougt). BORN A.D. 1650. DIED A.D. 1722. The family of this illustrious general is traced to the Courcils of Poitou, who came over with the conqueror. John Churchill was born at Ash, in Devonshire, on the 24th of June, 1650. His father and grandfather had been conspicuous for their loyalty in the civil wars. The father, Sir Winston Churchill, was rewarded with certain offices under government ; his daughter, Arabella, was appointed maid of honour to the duchess of York, and John was made page of honour to the duke. John received his early education at St Paul's school, but he was taken from that seminary in his twelfth year, and presented to the duke of York, on whose favour the boy soon gained. At a re- 100 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTH view of the guards, the duke asked his page what profession he should wish to enter: the boy fell on his knees, and solicited a pair of colours in one of those fine regiments. His first essay in arms was at Tangier* then in our hands, and besieged by the Moors. His second campaign was in 1672, during the alliance between England and France: he then served with the English auxiliaries under Monmouth in that army which Louis XIV. Commanded nominally in person, but which was really di rected by Turenne and Conde. In this campaign he distinguished him. self greatly. At the siege of Nimeguen he was particularly taken no tice of by Turenne, who bestowed on him the appellation of ' the handsome Englishman.' He appeared also to so much advantage at the reduction of Maestricht, that he received the thanks of the king of France at the head of the army. Continuing till 1677 to serve in the war against the emperor, he acquired under the celebrated French gen erals of the age, that knowledge of the art of war which he afterwards employed with such advantage against the power of France, and for the protection of the emperor's dominions. On his return to England, the king gave him a lieutenant-colonelcy, and the duke made him gentleman ofhis bed-chamber. In the twenty- eighth year ofhis age he married Sarah Jennings, then in her eighteenth year, and by this match at once gratified what appears to have been a sincere passion, and strengthened his interest at court. This young lady was of a good family. She had been placed, in her twelfth year, in the duchess of York's household, and had there become the favour ite companion and chosen friend of the Princess" Anne. During the latter years of Charles IL, Colonel Churchill was con fidentially employed by the duke of York ; he accompanied him to Scotland, and was one ofthe few persons who escaped with that prince from the wreck of the Gloucester yacht in Yarmouth roads. In 1683 he was created Baron Churchill of Eyemouth in Scotland, and, upon the marriage of the Princess Anne, his wife was, at the princess's ear nest desire, made lady of her royal, highness's bed-chamber. Upon the accession of James, further honours flowed in upon the fortunate sol dier: he was raised to the English peerage by the title of Baron Church ill of Sandridge in Hertford, and, during Monmouth's insurrection, he was promoted to the rank of major-general. The decisive action of Sedgmoor is ascribed mainly to Churchill's admirable tactics ; for Lord Feversham, the royalist general, displayed only his usual imbecility at this critical moment. James rewarded his favourite with every mani festation of gratitude and attachment ; but the favourite was about to prove himself unworthy of the confidence reposed in him, if indeed such a principle as that of confidence could enter into the friendship of the two men : for it is notorious that Churchill's favour with the prince had been originally purchased by the seduction ofhis sister, and main tained by her consenting to a life of infamy. It was fitting, perhaps, that benefits thus purchased should be so repaid. At the crisis of James's fate Marlborough deserted him. He had even been among the first who made overtures to the prince of Orange. A feeble attempt has indeed been made to vindicate Marlborough's conduct in this in stance : it has been said that " he discharged his duty as a faithful friend and subject, by telling the king what the feelings of the people were respecting his conduct, and warning him of the consequences PERIOD.] JOHN, DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 101 which were likely to ensue." But this, granting the truth of it to the fullest extent, can furnish no apology for the baseness of Marlborough's conduct in continuing to deceive his royal master, up to the very last moment that deception was possible, and even accepting of the com mand of a portion of the troops designed to act against the prince of Orange on his landing. Soon afterwards, Churchill was made earl of Marlborough, — a title which seems to have been chosen because of a family connexion with the last earls of that name. He then served during a short campaign in the Low Countries, under the prince of Waldeck ; and, on being recalled, was employed in the reduction of Cork and Kinsale in Ire land, which still held out for his late master. The measure of Marl borough's infamy, however, was not yet complete. There is now in contestable proof before the public that, after all that had passed, he hesitated not to enter into a correspondence with the exiled king, in which he expressed contrition for the part which he had taken in the Revolution, engaged to make amends by his future conduct, and ob tained a promise of pardon for himself, his lady, his friend Godolphin, and some others ! Let us hear how one of Marlborough's most ingen ious apologists endeavours to hide his shame, or at least to palliate his offences : — " Actions," says the Quarterly Reviewer of ' Coxe's Life of Marlborough,' " which cannot be justified, may often be extenuated, if we give but a just consideration to the circumstances and the spirit of the times. In all great revolutions, the foundations, not of govern ment alone, but of morality, also are shaken. There is so much vil- lany and falsehood at the commencement, (for they who aim at revo lutionizing a country scruple at no arts, however base, and at no crimes, however atrocious,) and so much wickedness of every kind in the pro gress, that from seeing right and wrong habitually confounded, men insensibly adapt their principles to the season, and self-preservation and self-advancement become the only rule of conduct. This was exempli fied in the state of England during the interval between the Restoration and Revolution ; the standard of general morality was never at any other time so low. The persons who figured in public life had grown tip in an age of anarchy, and there were few among them who made any pretensions either to public or private virtue. Marlborough was far superior in both to his contemporaries, but he was yet young in state affairs ; and when a well-rooted attachment to the laws and reli gion of his. country led him to concur in inviting over the prince of Orange, the strong measure of deposing the sovereign was not contem plated by him, as the necessary, or even as the possible consequence. ' I do solemnly protest,' says his wife in the account of her own con duct, speaking of William's accession, ' that if there be truth in any mortal, I was so very simple a creature, that I never once dreamt of his being king. I imagined that the prince of Orange's sole design was to provide for the safety of his own country, by obliging King James to keep the laws of ours ; and that he would go back as soon as he had made us all happy : that there was no sort of difficulty in the execution of this design ; and that to do so much good would be a greater pleasure to him than to be king of any country upon earth.' In saying this the duchess had no intention of offering any apology for herself, still less for her husband. Want of sincerity was not 102 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth among her faults, for she was of a frank and honourable nature, and as it is certain that Marlborough reposed in her the most entire confi dence, and even, on great political occasions, sometimes submitted his own better judgment to hers, it may fairly be presumed from this pass age, that his views in inviting William went no farther than are there stated. The motives which may have induced him to correspond with the exiled king are briefly indicated by Mr Coxe. He was personally attached to James, — a prince who, with all his grievous faults, was not , without some redeeming virtues. He was displeased by the measures of William in favour of the dissenters, — measures which he believed injurious to the welfare of that church, the preservation of which had been the immediate cause and object of the Revolution. Something too is ascribed to the cold and rfepulsive manners of the new king, and to his imprudent predilection for foreigners. But undoubtedly what chiefly influenced him was a distrust of the stability of the new gov ernment, which made him provide means for his security in case of a restoration.- So James himself understood it; ' they were to be par doned and in security,' he says, ' in case the king returned, and yet suffer nothing in the interim, nor to give any other proofs of their sin cerity than bare words and empty promises'.'" Undoubtedly the reviewer is correct when he says that the standard of general morality was low when Marlborough commenced his political career ; yet what does this statement make for the man of whose " well- rooted attachment to the laws and religion of his country" we are pre sently assured ? As to the solemn assurances of that " simple creature," Sarah Jennings, they are really too. ridiculous to deserve a moment's consideration. No one knew better the feelings of those around her, and saw farther both into motives and their consequences, than that ambitious, artful, and strong-minded woman. Nothing can be clearer than -that the whole of Marlborough's conduct was dictated by the purest selfishness ; that for personal advantage he was ready to sacrifice alike the faith of a statesman and the honour of a soldier. On the fact of his correspondence with the exiled king being discovered, Marl borough was committed to the Tower, and narrowly escaped the fate his crimes deserved. After a short confinement, however, the arch- traitor was set at liberty ; and, after Mary's death, was even restored to his seat at the council-board, and appointed governor to the young duke of Gloucester. William saw and appreciated Marlborough's ta lents as a general ; and his last advice to his successor was, that she should look upon Marlborough as the most proper person in her domi nions to lead her armies and direct her councils. Anne was but too happy to gratify the husband of her favourite The garter was given to Marlborough ; he was appointed captain-general of the forces at home and abroad ; and, at his suggestion, his friend Go dolphin was made lord-high-treasurer. Marlborough was not, however, altogether satisfied with the queen's political arrangements,, in which he thought his uncle, Rochester, an inveterate tory, had so large an influ ence. In his own wife too he found a source of disquietude. That ex traordinary woman had " long been inclined to favour the whigs, and from the marriage of her daughter with Lord Spencer, son of the earl of Sunderland, that inclination had increased, till it became a strong and decided preference. If fortune had placed her in the situation of Period.] 9 JOHN, DUKE OP MARLBOROUGH. 103 her royal mistress she would have made a queen like Elizabeth, or the Russian Catherine, without the personal weakness of the one, or the vices of the other ; her character was of the same stamp, commanding and imperious. The political sphere in which she was placed made her, of necessity, interested in political affairs ; the wife of Marlborough and the favourite of Queen Anne could see, or hear, or think of little else ; her talents qualified her to take a part, but unhappily she was unable to act with moderation, for her temper was warm, as well as fraflk and generous. During William's life all difference between herself and the queen, upon political opinions, was suspended by their common dislike to the king ; but upon Anne's accession, a dispathy immediately began, which, though only perceptible at first in the point of difference, insen sibly extended, till it leavened the whole feelings of both, and convert ed old friendship into inveterate ill will. Such a woman could not withhold from interfering when her interference might well have been spared ; her husband's interest, and welfare, and glory, were now inse parably connected with the prosperity of the state, and it was impossible for her to refrain from suggesting measures which, in her judgment, seemed essential to his success. Obedience was the only virtue in which she was deficient :— perhaps the fault was in Marlborough himself, who loved her too fondly to exact submission, when he failed to persuade her that she was acting from mistaken views." In May, 1702, war with France and Spain being resolved on, Marl borough embarked for Holland, and was appointed generalissimo ofthe allied army. His first campaign was highly successful, and rolled back the line of defence from the Dutch frontiers, to which it at one time seemed about to be confined. Venloo, Stevenswaert, and Ruremonde, were taken, and the campaign concluded by the capture of Liege. The States were unbounded in their expressions of gratitude to the man who had saved their country from foreign aggression, and Anne rewarded her successful soldier with a dukedom. His wife seemed against his accepting the title of duke, which she said was " a great burden in a family where there were many sons ;" but Godolphin urged him to receive it, and his friend Heinsius eloquently expatiated on the happy effect which it might have amongst his associates in the field, the foreign princes. His scruples, if he ever had any, were overcome by the re presentations ofhis friends, and he was created marquess of Blandford and duke of Marlborough, with a pension of £5000 during the queen's life. In less than three months after these honours had been awarded him, he had the misfortune to lose, his only surviving son, a youth ot seventeen, of high promise and attainments. He died at Cambridge of the small-pox. His father deeply felt the loss he had sustained. In one of his letters to his friend Godolphin, alluding to his deprivation, he says, " Since it has pleased God to take him, I do wish from my soul I could think less of bim." In resuming military operations in the second campaign, it was Marl borough's wish to carry the war into the heart of Brabant and West Flanders, but he was shackled by the misconduct of the Dutch generals Cohorn, Opdaam, and Spaar, and was obliged to content himself for the remainder of the season with the reduction of Huy, Limburg, and Guelder. Disgusted at the thick-headed obstinacy of his military col leagues, and irritated and disappointed by the clamour of parties at 104 POLITICAL SEItlES. [Sixth home, he seriously communicated to his dutchess his intention of resign ing his command and retiring at the same time from political life. The dutchess communicated this intention to the queen by letter, who replied in a very confidential epistle. She did not wonder, she said, at the duke's feelings and wish, but she hoped he would consider the interests of his country as paramount to his own gratification. " As for your poor unfortunate ] faithful Morley," the letter continued, " she could not bear it; for if ever you should forsake me, I would have nothing more to do with the world, but make another abdication ; for what is a crown when the support of it is gone ?" She concluded by saying, that she never would forsake the Marlboroughs and Godolphin, but always be their constant and faithful friend. " We four," said she, " must never part, till death mows us down with his impartial hand." After such a letter, it was not possible for Marlborough to persist in his re signation. Some changes in the ministry also made his situation for a time less irksome. By his influence Harley and St John were made secretaries of state. Marlborough had the most implicit confidence in both these men, but they did not deceive the dutchess. Meanwhile, the French, pursuing their successes on the side of Ger many, had opened a way for themselves into the heart of the empire; and the elector of Bavaria, commanding the course of the Danube, from its sources to the frontier of Austria, communicated on the one side with the Frencli armies on the Rhine, and with the Hungarian insurgents on the other. Marlborough now resolved on moving his army to the Danube. The timid Dutch, content with driving the din of war from their immediate neighbourhood, were extremely averse to the idea of going beyond a mere defensive system, but Marlborough declared, that if they abandoned him, he wcjuld lead the English troops alone to the Moselle. It is not our object to follow the movements of the duke throughout this arduous and most brilliant campaign, which was glo riously terminated by the battle of Blenheim. Marlborough now stood in need of rest. " His attacks of fever and headache were so frequent, that had he been an idle man he would have been pitied as a confirmed valetudinarian. After the action at Blenheim, where he was seventeen hours on horseback, he was obliged to be bled, when he had ' no time to be sisck,' and during the subsequent operations, when he had not an hour's quiet, his state of body was such, that he said, if he were in Lon don, he should be in his bed in a high fever. The fatigue and anxiety of three months had made him, in his own feeling and appearance, ten years older, and he was so emaciated that he apprehended nothing but extreme care and good nursing during the winter could save him from consumption. But the cares' of the whole confederacy were laid on him. At this time affairs in Italy bore the worst aspect ; on that side every tiling must have been lost without a prompt reinforcement of troops; the only power which could supply them was Prussia ; and the duke of Savoy, the emperor, and the king of the Romans, whose admiration for the great Englishman amounted almost to a feeling like friendship, knew that Marlborough's personal representations to the king of Prussia might succeed, when every other mode of negotiation would surely fail. In 1 Unfortunate, was an epithet which she always applied to herself, in her private letters, after the death 0/ her sou. I'eriod.] JOHN, DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 105 the worst season of the year, therefore, Marlborough undertook this fa tiguing journey of eight hundred miles, less, as he himself said, from any hope of success, than that he might not be reproached for leaving any thing undone. ' He was, however, successful, and the force thus obtained was the means of saving the duke of Savoy from being totally overpowered. On his way back he met the welcome tidings that Lan dau and Traerbach had surrendered, and he then returned tp England to reap the well-deserved reward of public applause. He was thanked by both houses of parliament. The trophies of the victory were paraded from the Tower to Westminster-hall, and through the Green park, that the queen, from one of the palace windows, might behold them. Eng land had seen no such triumph since the defeat of the Armada. The city gave the victorious general a splendid entertainment ; the commons presented an address soliciting that means might be taken for perpetu ating the memory of his services ; the crown lands at Woodstock were conveyed to him and his heirs, and orders were given to erect a palace there at the royal expense, to be called the castle of Blenheim." In the month of March, 1705, Marlborough again embarked for the continent. The proceedings of this year's campaign were unimportant, but in the opening ofthe next, by a movement upon Namur, he suc ceeded in provoking the French to risk a battle at Ramillies, in which he obtained a complete victory, and which was followed by the instant surrender of Louvain, Brussels, Mechlin, Ghent, Bruges, Ostend, and Dendermonde. We have pursued the train of political events in Eng land under other heads. Our object in the present article is to exhibit Marlborough in that light in which he appears to greatest advantage, namely, as the leader of his country's forces in the field. On his return to England, Marlborough was received in a manner corresponding to the great and signal successes of the campaign ; his title was extended to his daughters and their heirs male. It is observable thatJie was now no longer anxious to perpetuate the name of Churchill in his family, which he had formerly required his representatives in succession to as sume. The honour and manor of Woodstock, and the house of Blen heim, were to descend with the title, and the sum of £5000 a year from the post-office was likewise entailed upon his daughters and their heirs male in perpetuity, being however confirmed to the dutchess for her life. The standards and colours taken at Ramillies were borne in pro cession from Whitehall, through the park and St James's, and so to Guildhall ; it was a proud display, consisting of six and twenty stand ards and a hundred and twenty-six colours. Godolphin was raised to the, peerage ; several minor promotions among the whigs took place, and however averse she might have been to the measures which had been forced upon her, the queen found the advantage of having so materially strengthened the administration. Matters not less important than fhe business of war required Marlborough's attention while active operations were suspended. His influence was exerted in bringing about the great measure of the union, and ' it may be recorded as an answer,' says Mr Coxe, ' to the numberless accusations and surmises against the principles of Marlborough and Godolphin, that such a measure was accomplished by them in opposition to the efforts of a powerful combination of tories and Jacobites both in England and Scotland, and under a queen who not only detested the Hanover line, but who was beginning to turn with iv. o 106 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth renewed affection towards the surviving members of her unfortunate fa mily.' He performed also a singular mission to the camp of Charles XII. at Sweden, whose movements at that time held all Germany and the north of Europe in suspense, and might easily'bave made the scale preponderate in favour of France, if he had been led either by the arts •of that politic court, or by his own irritable temper (which needed little provocation) to fall upon the Austrians. His favourite scheme at this time was to form a protestant league. Prussia was already persuaded to the measure, Hanover was solicited, and Catholic Germany of course had taken the" alarm. Marlborough succeeded in dissuading him from a scheme which would have proved destructive to the alliance ; he suc ceeded also in adjusting or postponing his disputes with Austria and Denmark ; he administered pensions, by the elector of Hanover's ad vice, to two of his ministers ; and Charles, leaving the affairs of Europe to their course, removed his disturbing forces into Muscovy, and there wrecked his army, his fortunes, and himself. The campaign of 1707 was less fruitful in important results than any that Marlborough had yet made. In all his operations he was cramped by the miserable vacillation and petty views of his associates. The- campaign of 1708, in which he received more of the undivided assist ance of Prince Eugene, was more brilliant. Amongst other important successes was the victory of Oudenard, and the capture of Lille, Bruges, and Ghent. Villars now took the command of the French forces*in Flanders, and Louis expressed no small hopes of his favourite general, who had never been beat ; but the siege of Tournay and the tremen dous battle of Malplaquet, convinced the French monarch that his fa vourite was not invincible. The death of Godolphin, the change of ministry, and the disgrace into which both himself and his dutchess fell with the queen, determined Marlborough to exile himself for a while on the continent. The dut chess attended him, and he was received with every mark of respect wherever he went. He maintained a correspondence, however, with the Hanoverian party during his absence from England, and had en gaged to transport troops to England, if necessary, on the demise of the queen. The undisputed accession of George I., rendered this precau tion useless. That monarch restored Marlborough to his offices, but declined availing himself of his advice in the cabinet. He lived eight years after his return to England. In the year 1716 he had two attacks of paralysis, but he recovered from them so far as to be able to resume his public duties, and continue in the discharge of them, till within six months ofhis death, which took place on the 16th of June, 1722. His dutchess survived him two and twenty years. ^Of Marlborough's consummate abilities as a general there can be no question. Some, indeed, have attempted to attribute his successes more to the injudicious dispositions of the enemy than to his own genius. We apprehend, however, that it is one of the highest attributes of military genius to be able to take instant advantage of the errors of an opponent. Nor can such reasoning be employed with respect to some of the most brilliant of Marlborough's victories. At Malplaquet, for example* his antagonist, one ofthe ablest generals ofhis age, had leisurely taken up a strong natural position, to which he had added all the defences of his art ; yet with these, and with troops on the spot, and all engaged in the Period.] JOHN, DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 107 action, amounting at least in numbers to those which Marlborough beaded, was Villars utterly and signally defeated, after a dreadful con flict and carnage. Nor can we fairly account for tbe confidence with which Marlborough frequently looked forward to the issue of a contest, even before others had thought the action fairly begun ; as, for example, at Oudenard, without admitting that Marlborough possessed the skill of consummate generalship as well as the fullest confidence in his troops. So entirely were his own troops persuaded of their general's skill and prudence, that they were accustomed to say amongst themselves, when brought into any apparent emergency, " Well, it is no matter to us, Corporal John will find some way to bring us off, and do for the ene my." Next to the political profligacy which marked his outset in life, the greatest blot which rests on the character of Marlborough is his avarice. The love of money was hrs ruling passion, especially in the decline of life, and it had nothing fantastical or assumed in it, it was downright miserable penuriousness. " In his last decline at Bath,'' says Spence, " he (the duke) was playing with Dean Jones at piquet for sixpence a game. They played a good while, and the duke left off when winner of one game. Some tune after he desired the dean to r)ay him his sixpence. The dean said he had no silver. The duke asked him for it over and over, and at last desired that he would change a guinea to pay it him, because he should want it to pay the chair that carried him home. The dean, after so much pressing, did at last get change, — paid the duke his sixpence, — observed him a little after leave the room, — and declares that, after all the bustle that had been made for his six pence, the duke actually walked home to save the little expense a chair wonld have put him to."a We find the same story in Dr King's ' Anecdotes,' 3 with the additional information, that the night oh which the duke thus walked home to save his sixpence, was " a cold dark night." Swift has said with considerable truth that to his dutchess the duke owed both his greatness and his fall. Sarah Jennings was altogether a singular being, made up of inconsistencies. She employed Hooke, the Roman historian, to write an apology for her life, wliich he did for £5000. It was published in 1742, under the title of « An account of the conduct ofthe dowager dutchess of Marlborough, from her first coming to court to the year 1710, in a letter from herself to Lord ' It is a very amusing book. Towards the close of her life, after she had become bed-ridden, she kept writing materials constantly beside her, and was in the habit of noting down whatever whims came into her head. These loose papers came into the hands of Lord Hailes, who, in 1788, pub lished a selection from them under the title of ' The opinions of Sarah, dutchess of Marlborough.' They are the effusions of a capricious, ar rogant, violent-tempered old lady in her dctage. She tied on the 18th of October, 1744. • Anecdotes, &c. London, 1820. " London, 1819. 108 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth CfmrUs 9.mox, ©ufee of 2tir{j motto. BORN A. jj. 1672. DIED A. D. 1723. Charles Lenox, duke of Richmond, Lenox, and Aubigny, was a natural son of Charles IL, by Louise Renee, created dutchess of Portsmouth. By the death of Charles Stewart, duke of Richmond and Lenox, the titles of the ancient and noble house of Lenox had merged in the crown : his majesty bestowed both the estate and titles on this illegitimate son, and created him duke of Richmond while yet an infant of three years of age. In 1681 he was elected a knight-companion of the garter; and, on the removal of the duke of Monmouth, he was appointed master of the horse. In the reign of King William his grace served in Flanders ; he was also one of the lords of the bed-chamber to George I. He died in 1723. Macky, in his " Characters ofthe Court of Great Britain," saj's of the duke of Richmond, " he is a gentleman good- natured to a fault, very well-bred, and hath many valuable things in him ; he is an enemy to business, very credulous, well-shaped, dark complexion, and a good deal like his father." €f)atU&, dSavl ot ^uttoerlatto, BORN A. D. 1674. — DIED a. D. 1722. This nobleman was born in the year 1674. He entered into public life at an early age, being returned member for Tiverton in 1695. He continued to represent that borough until he was called to the house of peers, on the death ofhis father in 1702. . In 1705 he was diplomatic ally employed at the courts of Berlin, Vienna, and Hanover. In April, .1706, he was nominated one of the commissioners to treat for a union with Scotland; and, at the latter end ofthe year, he was not only made a privy-councillor, but, according to Archdeacon Coxe, the whig-lead ers perceiving that the queen favoured the tories, he was forced by them into the office of secretary of state. In 1709-10, on account of the conduct of Sunderland, with regard to Sacheverell and his supporters, the whole influence ofthe high church party was exercised to procure his dismissal from office. The duke o Marlborough, on the other hand, wrote very warmly to the queen in his favour; and the haughty dutchess ' begged on her knees'- that the queen would not compel him to retire ; with this request, although very powerfully seconded by a number of influential noblemen, her majesty refused to comply, and Sunderland was almost immediately commanded to deliver up his seals. To soften the harshness of her conduct towards tbe earl, Queen Anne offered him a pension of £3000 per annum for life ; wliich, however, he indignantly rejected ; observing that " He was glad her majesty was satisfied he hacl done his duty ; but if he could not have the honour to serve his country, he would not plunder it." On the death of Queen Anne, Sunderland, who was accounted the. Period.] CHARLES, EARL OP SUNDERLAND. 109 great leader of the whigs, expected, in return for the zeal he had dis played in behalf of the house of Hanover, to be placed at the head of the new administration. But, although the king treated him with great attention, and several places of dignity were conferred on him, some years elapsed before he could attain the exalted station to which he as pired. Shortly after George I. arrived in the country, the earl was sworn a privy-councillor, and appointed lord-lieutenant of Ireland. In 1715, ill health 'having compelled him to resign his vice-regal office, he was constituted lord-privy seal; and, in July 1716, he became vice- treasurer of Ireland, having previously enjoyed that office jointly with Lord Rochester, from the month of February in the same year. In September he went to Hanover with the king, with whom his influ ence now rapidly increased. In April, 1717, he achieved a political victory over Walpole and Townshend, on whose resignation he was appointed, in the first place, chief secretary of state, — shortly after wards lord-president of the council,-^-and finally, first lord of the trea sury. At this period, Sunderland, in whose person the whole power of government seemed to be united, brought forward the celebrated peer age bill, by the passing of which he hoped to check the authority of the prince of Wales — whom the earl had offended beyond the possi bility of forgiveness — when his royal highness should become king ; and to extend the duration of his own authority by the elevation of a number of his adherents to the house of lords. This unpopular bill was passed by the peers, but rejected by ths commons, principally through the exertions of Walpole. In 1718—19 he resigned the presidency of the council; but was, on the same day, appointed groom of the stole and first gentleman of the bed-chamber. In May, 1719, he was nominated one of the lords-jus tices, to whom the government was intrusted during the king's visit to Hanover. Walpole and Townshend had, by this time, become so for midable to the earl, that he deemed it expedient to divide his power, and partially coalesce with them. About the end of October in this year, 1719, he went to Hanover; in the following month he was elected a knight of the garter ; in June, 1720, he was again nominated a mem ber of the regency during the king's absence in Hanover ; and, in Sep tember, he repeated his visit to the electorate. The year 1721 was rendered remarkable by the celebrated South sea bubble, the bursting of which proved fatal to the political supremacy of Sunderland. Notwithstanding his exalted station — for he was still first minister of the crown — he was strongly suspected of having tak*eu a guilty part in that nefarious scheme ; and a parliamentary inquiry, as to his alleged mai- practices, took place ; which, however, owing to the zeal and talent with which he was defended by Walpole, terminated in his acquittal ; but the public were so fully convinced of his guilt, that he found it necessary to resign all his employments. This event was followedjby the re-establishment of Townshend and Walpole ; " yet it was not without great difficulty," says Coxe, " that Sunderland, who maintained the most unbounded influence over the sovereign, had been induced, or rather compelled, to consent to the arrangement for a new ministry, and particularly to relinquish the disposal of the secret ser vice-money. 110 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth His conduct at this period was involved in suspicious mystery. He intrigued with the tories, although he did not dare openly to avow any connexion with them. He made overtures to Bishop Atterbury, and his health was frequently drunk by the Jacobites. He continued, on many occasions, successfully to use his influence over the king, — fo mented divisions in the cabinet, — and carried several measures in direct opposition to its chiefs. " Walpole's merit," says Coxe, " in screening Sunderland from the rage of the house of commons, could not expiate the crime of superseding him at the head ofthe treasury. Sunderland, jealous of his growing power, resolved, if possible, again to obtain his dismission. Under the semblance of favour, he requested the king to create him postmaster-general for life,-— a lucrative office, which, if he had received, would have incapacitated him for a~ seat in parliament ; and, if he refused, would subject him to the resentment of his sover eign. Contrary, however, to his expectations, the king inquired if Walpole had desired it, or was acquainted with it. Sunderland replied in the negative. ' Then,' returned the king, ' do not make him the offer : I parted with him once against my inclination, and I will never part with him again as long as he is willing to serve me.1 " Soon after wards, on the 19th of April, 1722, death terminated the earl's machi nations against his rival. The earl of Sunderland was thrice married ; first, on the 12th of January, 1694-5, to Lady Arabella, youngest daughter ofthe duke of Newcastle, by whom he had a daughter, and who died, June 4th, 1698, — next, in January, 1 J00, to Anne, the second daughter of the duke _ of Marlborough, by whom he had four sons and two daughters, and who died, April 15th, 1716, — and, lastly, on the 5th of December, 1717, to Miss Judith Tichborne, a lady of large fortune, and of an ancient Irish family, by whom he had three children, and who sur vived him many years. His spirit was daring, and his intellect unquestionably great. Of patriotism or probity, he appears to have had but a very moderate share. Personal aggrandizement was the one great ohject of his life. He was at all times willing to abandon the principles he had last pro fessed, — to be a whig, a tory, or downright Jacobite, — to sacrifice a friend, or coalesce with an enemy, for the purpose of advancing or se curing his own political power. Witnt& gzMtfyt'btttll. DIED A. D. 1724. This vehement champion of our venerable establishment was the son of one Joshua Sacheverell of Marlborough, clerk, and afterwards — so one account states — rector of St Peter's church in that town. This gen tleman had a large family, with very little to support them, and his son Henry was indebted for his education to a worthy apothecary of the name of Hearst, who, having stood godfather to him, was chari- ta'ole enough to take him under his protection. After the death of his patron he was sent by the widow to Magdalene college, Oxford, where he managed, in some way or other, to proeure a fellowship ; and, in the Period.] HENRY SACHEVERELL. Ill capacity of tutor, had the honour of educating several men, who sub sequently rose to considerable eminence. It is a curious circumstance that Joseph Addison was, while at college, his chamber-fellow and in timate friend, and that Addison's account ofthe greatest English poets is dedicated to him. Unless Sacheverell's character subsequently un derwent a complete change, there must be something more than a mere metaphysical division in what metaphysicians call the association of contrast, for assuredly there could not readily be picked out more com plete diversities of character than are presented by the calm, retiring, elegant, and accomplished scholar on the one side, and the noisy, rois tering, arrogant, thick-headed bigot on the other. He is said by some to have acted with the utmost ingratitude to his friends at Marlborough, and to have conducted himself turbulently ; but these circumstances, however consonant with the character of the man, have not been suf ficiently attested. That he cultivated poetry is perhaps much less cred ible ; but we have still extant some undoubted productions of his muse ; and in the ' Musae Anglicanse' there may be found one from his pen on the death of Queen Mary, which is not altogether destitute of merit. He proceeded slowly through the degrees of M. A. and B. D., to that of D. D., which he obtained in 1708. His first piece of preferment was to Cannock or Cank, in Staffordshire ; and not long afterwards he was appointed preacher to St Saviour's church, Southwark. We ga ther from Burnet, that, for several years before this time, he had been in the habit of delivering violent, high-flown sermons, in the hope of attracting attention, but had hitherto failed. The time was now come when his works of faith and labours of love were to meet their reward. His two famous sermons were preached in 1709 ; one at Derby, in August, and the other at St Paul's before the lord-mayor and corporation, on the 5th of November. Though the court of alder men were so disgusted with his sermon, that they did not even pay him the compliment of a vote of thanks, he had the courage to print it, with the sanction, privately given, of the lord-mayor ; and, in conse quence, this precious piece of nonsense has been preserved to modern times. His text he finds in St Paul's words, — " Perils from false friends." The main drift of his sermon is to point out the existing ministry — which, it will be remembered, had been remodelled, in the preceding years, by an admission of some of the old and liberal whigs — as these false friends ; to hold them up as the most ruinous enemies "of the church, and to animate all classes in a struggle against them. In the course of his tirade he defends most manfully the doctrine of non-resistance, — declares the late revolution was not resistance, — and reviles the dissenters as a nest of vipers, to whom no mercy should be shown. In rapidly running over the sermon, we selected the following passages as specimens of this worthy's spirit: — " The. grand security of our government, and the very pillar upon which it stands, is founded on a steady belief of the subjects' absolute and unconditional obedience to the supreme power in all things lawful, and the utter illegality of re sistance on any pretence whatsoever." * * * * In another part he calls those who maintain a right of resistance, " filthy dreamers, — presumptuous, self-willed men, — despisers of dominion and government, who are not afraid to speak evil of dignities, and wrest the word of God to their own and their deluded people's perdition, — and think to 112 POLITICAL SE.R1ES. [Sixth consecrate even the worst of sins, with what is almost analogous to the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost." * * * * " If the dissent ers had lived in the time of St Paul, they would have branded him as an intemperate, hot, furious zealot, that wanted to be sweetened by the . gentle spirit of charity and moderation, forsooth. Schism and faction are things of impudent and encroaching nature ; they thrive upon con cession; — take permission for power, — advance a toleration immediately into an establishment, — and are, therefore, to be treated like growing mischiefs or infectious plagues, kept at a distance, lest that deadly con tagion spread. Let us, therefore, have no fellowship with these works of darkness, but rather reprove them. Let our superior pastors do their duty, and thunder out their heaviest anathemas, and let any power on earth dare reverse the sentence ratified in heaven." Outrageous as this sermon was, it could not have done much harm even in the excited state of the people, if it had been suffered to pass unnoticed ; but un fortunately the ministry, at the earnest request of Lord Godolphin, who thought himself especially pointed at under the name of Volpone, re solved to impeach the Doctor at the bar of the house. It is said that. Somers, Marlborough, ' Eyre the solicitor-general, and others, wished the Doctor to be tried before the common tribunals of the country; " but this wise advice was overruled, and," says Burnet, " unhappily, the more solemn way chosen." While preparations were making for his trial, his friends were most active in his favour, or rather, we should say, the crafty politicians who made him their tool, were energetically pushing forward their designs. The clergy almost generally es poused his cause. Reports were circulatetl, that the intention of the whigs was to destroy the church, and that this prosecution was set on foot only to try their strength. The Doctor conducted himself with the utmost boldness, disdaining to make the slightest acknowledgment;: of error. The trial began on the 27th of February in Westminster- hall, and continued for three weeks. It may be regarded as a party struggle, in which the doctrines of the contending factions were fairly brought into contrast ; and without at all offending the ears of our mo dern tories, we may safely say that the triumph of the whigs in argu ment was complete. The charge brought against Sacheverell was,, that he had been guilty of high crimes and misdemeanours, and the main proof of the charge was drawn from his vehement tirades against the right of resistance, — the act for occasional conformity, — the toleration of dissenters, — and from his implied censure of the recent Revolution. The managers appointed by the commons to conduct the prosecution, among whom were Sir Joseph Tekyl, Sir Peter King, and the celebra ted Robert Walpole, urged forward these charges by asserting the right of resistance, and by rescuing the Revolution from the opprobrium which had been thrown on it. Several of the speeches made were masterly productions, and will be found to this day among the best and clearest statements of the true foundation of all government. On the other side Sir Simon Harcourt, Mr Phipps, and Sacheverell. himself, assisted by Atterbury and Friend, surrounded by the queen's chaplains, and cheered on by the blind zeal of the rabble, made a bold and skil ful defence. They asserted that the doctrine of non-resistance was a doctrine strenuously inculcated by the church of England, and proved their assertion triumphantly by instancing a vast number of homilies Period,] HENRY SACHEVERELL. 113 and sermons by the most eminent of its prelates, and by others of its superior clergy. Their defence was undoubtedly a good one ; for never, since the world began, was the right divine, with all its mischievous inferences, asserted more explicitly than by the church of England in this and the preceding reigns. All parties having been heard, the up per house debated whether the commons had established their articles of impeachment ; and after a long and fiery discussion, in which the earl of Wharton, and Burnet the bishop of Salisbury, especially dis tinguished themselves, it was agreed, though only by a very narrow majority, that Sacheverell was guilty. He was condemned to be sus pended from his office for the space of three years, — to be incapable of any preferment during that period, — and to have both his sermons burnt by the common hangman. The lenity of this sentence was regarded by the tories as a high triumph, and most uproarious rejoicings on the occasion were made throughout the country. " The church and Dr Sacheverell" — par nobile fratrum — were invariably coupled together, and the great mass ofthe population looked on this contemptible mount ebank as the prime ornament of the episcopal church. During the trial multitudes had followed him on his progress to Westminster-hall every morning, — kissing his hand, — showering blessings on his sacred head, — and alternately breathing prayers for his deliverance, and yell ing forth good round oaths against his accusers. Who does not admire the piety of a church-and-king mob ? We have already said that Sacheverell was a mere tool in the hands of others. The reason why so many men of unquestioned sense and parts had advocated Sacheverell's innocence soon became apparent. For several years the tory party had been pressing onward to the possession of political power by all the little, dirty paths of corruption and in trigue ; and at length, through the magnanimous assistance of a mount ebank and a waiting-maid, their leader Harley grasped the premiership. We know it has been denied that Sacheverell was instrumental in producing this change of affairs, and we do not wonder at the denial, for the very idea of profiting from such a dunghill source must have been gall and wormwood to a haughty man like Bolingbroke. It is, however, apparent, beyond a possibility of mistake, that the Doctor's famous sermons, and the political feelings excited by them, were mainly influential in resolving the queen'to change her counsellors.1 In the mean time Sacheverell, in order to wile away the dull hours of his suspension, made a tour through the country, which the zeal of the people converted into a sort of triumphal progress. In almost every part of the kingdom he was receivedwith a clamorous veneration, which would have seemed ludicrous, even in his own eyes, if he had not been devoured by the most egregious vanity. The testimony of a contem porary will give the best idea of the scene. Cunningham says, " Dr Sacheverell, making a progress round the country, was looked upon as another Hercules for the church-militant. Wherever he went, his em issaries were sent before with his pictures ; pompous entertainments 1 Swift, hi his Journal to Stella, says of Sacheverell, " he hates the new ministry mortally, and they hate him, and pretend to despise him too. They will not allow him to have been tlie occasion of the late change,— at least, some of them will not; but my lord-keeper owned it to me the other day." IV. 1? 114 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth were made for him; and a mixed multitude of country-singers, fiddlers, priests, and sextons, and a mob of all conditions, male and female, crowded together to meet and congratulate him ; among whom drunk . enness, darkness, and a furious zeal for religion extinguished all regard to modesty." This extravagance was too gross to continue long ; and, in the end, the Doctor became as ridiculous in the eyes of the people as he had formerly been glorious. On threatening to visit Ely they declared that if he entered the town he should be stoned. Finding a similar spirit in other places, this champion of the church, whose rev erence for the martyrs' crown was so profound that he toOk care to keep at the utmost possible distance from it, returned quietly to Lon don. As soon as the term of his suspension had expired, the queen, who, it is said, had always been favourable to hfm, presented him to the living of St Andrews, Holborn ; and shortly afterwards he had the honour of delivering to the house of commons a sermon, for which he received their thanks. About the same time a considerable estate was left to him by one ofhis relations. In 1716 he prefixed a dedication to a copy of sermons preached by one W. Adams, M. A. After this pe riod little more is known of him, except from quarrels with his parish ioners. He died on the 5th of June, 1724, bequeathing, by his will, £500 to Atterbury, who was at that time in exile. The character of this worthy has been too fully elucidated by his life to require any comments upon it here. He occupies a prominent place in the history of Queen Anne's reign, and he certainly did much to secure the triumph of the tory party ; but he is only the base tool of more cunning heads, — the Captain Bobadil of the play ; and the very men who profited by him were ashamed of using him. It should not be forgotten that rats may uproot houses, and that pismires are sometimes dangerous. The dutchess of Marlborough calls him " an ignorant, im pudent incendiary, — a man who was the scorn even of those who made use of him as a tool ;" and Burnet says, with less warmth but equal truth, that he was " bold and insolent, with a very small measure of religion, learning, virtue, or good sense ; but he resolved to force him self into popularity and preferment by the most petulant railing at dis senters and low-churchmen, in several sermons and libels wrote with out either chasteness of style or liveliness of expression : all was an unpractised strain of indecent and scurrilous language." $}atUp, <£atl ot d^xtotti atto Mottimt t, BORN A.D. 1661. — DIED A.D. 1724 Robert Harley, earl of Oxford and Mortimer, was the eldest son of Sir Edward Harley, and was born in Bow-street, Covent-garden, London, on the fifth of December, 1661. His original destination was for the army ; but the early developement of his talents, and the evi-. dent leaning of his mind to civil rather than to military life, occasioned this design to be abandoned. He received an excellent education from a clergyman named Birch, who resided near Burford in Oxfordshire, and whose name has been rescued from oblivion by the celebrity of Period] HARLEY, EARL OF OXFORD AND MORTIMER. 115 many of his pupils.1 Harley 's first step in public life was at the Revo lution, when, in conjunction with his father, he raised a troop of horse, and joined the prince of Orange soon after his landing. In 1690, he entered the house of commons as member for the borough of Tregony. Having been educated in whig principles, and his family being presby- terian, he naturally joined the Revolution party; but becoming discon tented with William's government, either through the influence of Marlborough, with whom he had contracted a friendship, or because he thought a junction with the opposite party most" likely to forward his own ambitious views, it was-not long before. he ranked himself among the tories. His talents and address in debating soon attracted the at tention of the house; so that, in 1694, he was appointed to bring in a bill for the more frequent summoning of parliaments, and his task was so well executed, that the bill passed through both houses without any amendment. Such great confidence did the house place in his ability, that, in 1701, on the meeting of the fifth parliament of King William, he was chosen speaker ; and no man, we are told, filled the chair with greater ability. A speaker in those times was not tied down by the restraints which modern etiquette has imposed. Harley continued to take as active a part in the contentions of parties as he had done when out of office. Shortly after the meeting of parliament, the memorable act of settlement was introduced ; and although the tories could not openly resist the passing of a measure, so loudly demanded by the cir cumstances ofthe times, and by the concurrent wishes ofthe king and the people, they used every method to impede its progress. The speaker, who was in reality devoted to the tory party, though with his usual trimming policy he endeavoured to win the favour of their op ponents, used all the acts which he could invent to throw the bill aside. Among other methods of procrastination, he advised, that as " the haste the nation was in when tbe present government was settled, had made us overlook many securities which might have prevented much mischief," the future sovereign should be bound down by certain conditions, which should effectually secure the liberties of the people. Harley 's advice was good in itself, though given with a bad intention, and fortunately it did not serve the end proposed. The bill was carried along with the restrictions of the regal power ; and thus it happened, that the very men who made a boast of tlieir unswerving attachment to the throne and to all its prerogatives, became, by their own factious measures, the instruments of confining the sovereignty within smaller limits than had ever been known before. In 1704 he was appointed to the office of secretary of state. It will be recollected that Marlborough and Godolphin — the ministers under whOm he accepted office — were just at this period paving the way for an alliance with their ancient enemies the whigs ; and they probably thought that Harley, who was bound to Marlborough by no common ties of gratitude, and whom they rightly believed to have no higher principle than themselves, would change along with them, and devote his talents to their support. But they knew not the subtle treachery of the serpent whom they fostered in their bosoms. He still kept up his correspondence with the tories, 1 Besides Harley, this gentleman had educated Harcourt, lord-chancellor; Trevor, lord-chief-justice of the common pleas, and ten members of -parliament, — all of whom flourished at the same time. 116 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth and he had not long taken his seat at the council-board, before it was found that his influence with the queen was greater than that of any other of her advisers. The famous Mrs Masham, at first the minion but now the rival of the dutchess of Marlborough, had acquired a com plete ascendancy over the queen, and Harley insinuated himself so suc cessfully into her good graces, that she employed all her influence in exalting him in the queen's favour, and depreciating the other minis ters. Through this despicable channel he maintained a clandestine communication with his sovereign, and by flattering her with high no tions of the prerogative, which he represented Marlborough and Godol phin as anxious to reduce, he managed to wean her from her old and long-tried friends, whose counsels had given her reign a brilliancy scarcely rivalled in the brightest periods of our history. It is one of the most nauseating proofs of Harley 's dissimulation, that at this very time when he was using his utmost efforts to undermine his patrons, he made in letters, which are still preserved,2 most earnest professions of his sincere and unalterable attachment to their interests. But such gross duplicity could not long elude Godolphin's shrewdness ; and, in 1708, he and Marlborough demanded Harley 's dismissal, threatening to re sign office if their demand was refused. Anne for a long time resisted their proposal, and would probably have parted with them both, rather than have lost her favourite, had not the wily politician, whose designs were "not yet fully ripe, offered ofhis own accord to resign, and "bow ing low his grey dissimulation" to the storm, retired from office along with his followers. He still continued to enjoy tire entire confidence of Anne, who took no step without consulting him, and by dint of in trigues in private and plausible speeches in public, — by cajoling some of the leaders of his opponents into a desertion of their party, — by in stilling into the tories the belief that the ministers were wholly devoted to the whigs, and into the whigs the suspicion that they were about to make peace with the tories,' — he succeeded in sapping the stability of the administration. Their overthrow was hastened by their foolish impeachment of Dr Sacheverell, for the bedlamite nonsense which that worthy had poured forth from the pulpit. Harley's conduct on this occasion seems to have been a model of duplicity. In his speech on Sacheverell's impeachment, " he made use," says Cunningham, " of such a circumgyration of incoherent words as he had before condemned in Sacheverell, so that they could not discover, from his expressions, ivhether he spoke for him or against him." The tremendous outburst of high-church zeal, which was elicited by this famous trial, gave as surance to the queen and her friends that the time was now come for the developement of their designs. Accordingly Godolphin and his party were summarily dismissed, — the treasury was put in commission, ¦. — St John was made secretary of state, — and Harley chancellor of the exchequer. The, triumph of the tories was completed by the general election which took place shortly afterwards ; and Burnet informs us that the court made use of such arbitrary and unconstitutional means to procure favourable returns as had never been known before, and the success of their machinations was evidenced by the assembly of a par liament, three-fourths of which were so furiously loyal, that they looked * Vide the Hardwicke State Papers. PERIOD.] HARLEY, EARL OF OXFORD AND MORTIMER. 117 to a foreign court for their legitimate prince, and so religious, that they were bent on imposing pains and penalties on freedom of conscience. So zealous were they for their principles, that the moderation, or rather the trimming policy of the new minister, awakened their dislike, and it is probable that he would have been speedily abandoned by his friends, had it not been for one of those extraordinary accidents which take captive as it were the sympathies of men. An attempt, which narrowly failed of success, was made upon his life by a French adventurer, the Marquess de Guiscard, who had been summoned to undergo an exam ination on the charge of a treasonable correspondence with the French court. The daring nature of the attempt, — the dangerous wounds which Harley received, — and the courage with which he behaved, worked miracle^ for his popularity. On his return to the house of commons he was congratulated by the speaker in the name of the whole house ; and so strong was the reaction in his favour, that when he brought forward his financial scheme, it was received with almost uni versal applause, although the main features of it, the establishment of a South sea company, and of lotteries, were strongly and deservedly condemned by some of his colleagues in office. In 1711 he was cre ated a peer by the titles of earl of Oxford and Mortimer, and was shortly afterwards advanced to the post of lord-high-treasurer. His power now seemed to be settled on a firm basis, especially as he saw and acted on the necessity of complying with the favourite project of the tories for the oppression of the dissenters. There are persons who ascribe to Harley great merit for the favour which, in those intolerant times, he showed to the nonconformists ; but to such it is a sufficient answer to point to his conduct, in allowing to pass without one word of opposition, nay even with his sanction, the infamous " act for preserv ing the protestant religion," &c. by which dissenters were to be ex cluded in future from all civil employments, and no person in office was to be allowed to enter a conventicle under pain of severe penalties. But the great measure by which his administration was distinguished was the peace of Utrecht. We are not disposed to award to Harley the slightest merit for this famous treaty, since we believe his motives in it to have been any thing rather than patriotic ; nevertheless, we think that the peace was on the whole decidedly beneficial to this country. It is true that the nation gained nothing to compensate for the danger and expense it had undergone ; it had made a costly sacrifice of blood and treasure to no end ; and the empty glory of Blenheim and Ramil lies was the sole fruit of a ten years' war ; but inglorious as it was, and disgraceful to the ministers who secured no more advantageous terms, it was better than continued hostility. By effecting a peace, he com pletely vanquished the designs of the whigs, and might have consoli dated his power, could he have prevented internal dissension. His colleague Bolingbroke was, however, of too high a temper, and too conscious of his own abilities, to endure a superior, and the cabinet became one constant scene of contention. Among other methods which he took to injure his rival, Bolingbroke did not forget the ladder by which the lord-treasurer had risen ; and Mrs Masham, destined to be the tool of intriguing statesmen, was ready to forward his views. It is pleasant to find Harley caught in the pit which he had himself dug. Finding that his rival had obtained the confidence of the queen, he 118 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth drew up and presented to her a memorial containing an account of his whole administration, and exposing the ambitious designs of his rival. It was now his turn to find the truth of the lesson,—" Put not your trust in princes." Anne received his memorial coldly, which so en raged him, that he made overtures to'the whig party ; but here again he met with an ungracious reception. At length on the 27th of July, 1714, he was dismissed from his office; but his rival did not enjoy the fruits of his machinations, for within three days afterwards the queen expired ; and the change which followed was so complete, that dreams of power were driven from the minds of the ex-statesmen by the neces sity of devising plans for safety. The whigs had been so thoroughly exasperated by Harley 's treachery, that after the accession of George the First they impeached him of high treason, and he was in conse quence committed to the Tower, where he lay for two years. It would be unfair not to give Harley high praise for the courage with which he met the accusations brought against him. While his rival Bolingbroke fled in dismay from the threatened impeachment, he staid manfully to breast the storm, and his constancy was rewarded by a complete ac quittal in 1717. After this time he retired into the country, and gave himself up to the literary pursuits whieh he had never wholly aban doned, — to the study of the fine arts, — and to the collection of that noble library, which, ¦ far more than his political career, has made his name European. In the society of Pope and other eminent men, with whom he had always lived in the closest intimacy, he was perhaps hap pier than in the most brilliant part ofhis political career, and the lonely student employed in high converse with the mighty dead, probably looked back without a sigh to the splendid miseries of a court. He expired on the 21st of May, 1724, and was buried in the tomb of his ancestors at Brampton-Brian. Though the sketch which we have here given of Harley 's career is necessarily brief and imperfect, it displays his conduct in a light suffi- i ciently strong to make any remarks on his character almost superfluous. Yet such enthusiastic encomiums have been showered upon him by writers whose names are identified with some of the brightest parts of our literary history, that a few observations will not be out of place.,! Among the warmest of his panegyrists is Pope, who, in his epistle to him on the death of Parnell, addresses him in the following high-flown language : — " And sure if aught below the seats divine Can touch immortals, 'tis a soul like thine ; A soul supreme in each hard instance tried, Above all pain, all passion, and all pride, The rage of power, the blast of public breath, The lust of lucre, and the dread of death." Never was praise more beautiful and more unjust. The sole attribute of a great mind which Harley possessed, was ambition. The love of power had taken such firm hold on his mind, that to obtain it he sacri ficed friends, reputation, fame, peace of conscience, every thing which a wise or honourable man would most esteem ; and yet when the glitter ing prize was in his grasp, he had neither skill to bear it worthily nor to retain it. There are some men who advance right onwards, with open Period.] HARLEY, EARL OF OXFORD AND MORTIMER. 119 unhesitating steps to the attainment of the object they have in view, seeming rather to descend upon than to rise to it ; and tliere are others who crawl along the ground towards their mark, advancing here a little, and there a little, and working their way through any dirty track that opens before them. To this latter class Harley belonged. The only tal ent which he possessed in any perfection was dissimulation, and in that he was unrivalled. Great at a promise, incomparable in an intrigue, he esteemed no device too base, no stratagem too contemptible, which ad vanced him one step nearer to his object. Pampering the mischievous prejudices of a weak-minded sovereign, — relieving the wants, and flatter ing the vanity of a waiting woman, that he might secure her influence with her mistress, — cajoling every party by professions of attachment to their interests, — falsifying any promise, and violating any engagement, which it was inconvenient to keep, — betraying all enemies, and all friends equally, — and veiling his trimming policy under the specious name of moderation, he crept by a tortuous and shameful path to the summit of power. To overthrow his patrons, he made a promise of his support to the court at St Germains, and to injure his rival, he bound himself with equal readiness to uphold the Hanoverian succession. His devices succeeded in blinding men's eyes, when he was out of power, and it was impossible that the value of his professions should be put to the test ; but when the time came for action, and it was found that nothing was fo be performed, all saw through and despised him. Had he, even after his accession to supreme power, adopted any one determined and straightforward course of policy, however flagitious, he might, in spite of the contempt excited by the dirty machinations which he had fol lowed to secure his elevation, have rescued himself from the scorn of posterity, by rising to the bad eminence of its hatred ; but the duplicity of the factious intriguer for place characterized the prime minister, and made it impossible not to despise him. So undecided and inconsistent was he in all his actions, as almost to dispose us to join in the bitter sarcasm of Bolingbroke, that he was " a man of whom nature had in tended to make a spy, or at most a captain of miners, and whom for tune in one of her whimsical moods had made a general." Of him might be truly predicted, what was said of a great man in ancient times, " In rebus politicis, nihil simplex, nihil apertum, nihil sincerum." With out decision enough to adopt one single bold measure, — without the talent requisite to make him formidable, where his character was known, — without honesty sufficient to derive dignity from any other source than the splendours of office, he met the usual fate of time-servers ; and after finding himself detested by his colleagues, distrusted by his friends, despised by his enemies, and shunned by all, closed an inglorious career by a contumelious dismissal from the coun cil of his sovereign. It is pleasing to have to add that Harley 's private character was one of spotless integrity. And let it ever be remembered to his honour, that, amidst all the storms of faction, he was the unvarying friend of learning and learned men. The praises of Pope and Defoe were showered upon him with no sparing hands ; and although they cannot be permitted to affect our opinion of his public conduct, they present some relief to the darker parts of his character. He was himself a man of great literary attainments, and so devoted to study, that it is 120 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth said, he could in an instant lay his "hand on any book, even the most insignificant in his magnificent library, though it contained not fewer than 1 00,000 volumes. The services which he rendered to liter ature by the collection of this splendid repository of learning, and of his invaluable manuscripts, which now form the prime ornament of'our great national museum, ought to be held in long and grateful remem brance. During the time that he was in the house of commons, he gained considerable celebrity as a skilful debater. His speaking is described by his friends, as exhibiting more of art, than the native grace of an original orator ; and by his enemies as pedantic, and in elegant, trifling on matters of importance, and important on trifles, and constantly employing words to mystify rather than to explain. The pamphlets which he published certainly do not indicate any thing like high talent, though written with considerable dexterity. The published productions ascribed to him by Horace Walpole in his catalogue of royal and noble authors, are the following : — ' An Essay upon Public Credit,' published in 1710, and reprinted in the ' Somers' collection of tracts,' vol. 2d. ' An Essay upon Loans,' Somers' collection, vol. 2d. ' A Vindication of the Rights of the Commons of England,' to be found in Somers' second collection, vol. 4th. And some familiar Verses, pub lished in Swift's Letters, vol. I. 1766. Cijomas <^ug. BORN A.D. 1645. — DIED A.D. 1724. Thomas Guy, the amiable friend of the poor and unfortunate, and founder of the noble hospital which bears his name, was the son of a lighterman and coal-dealer, and was born in Horsleydown, Southwark, in 1645. He was apprenticed to a bookseller in Cheapside, and having been admitted a freeman of the Stationers' company in 1668, was re ceived into their livery in 1673. He began business with a stock of about £200, in the house which, till lately, formed the angle between Cornhill and Lombard-street, but which has been pulled down for the improvements now making in that neighbourhood. His first success was owing to the great demand for English bibles printed in Holland, in which he dealt largely ; but on the importation of these being stop ped by law, he contracted with the university of Oxford for the privi lege of printing bibles; and having furnished himself with types from Holland, carried on this branch of business for many years with great profit. But whatever foundation he might have laid for his future wealth in the usual course of trade, no small portion of his property arose from his purchase of seamen's tickets. These he bought at a large discount, and afterwards subscribed in the South- sea company, which was estab lished in 1710, for the purpose of discharging those tickets and giving a large interest. Here Mr Guy was so extensively, as well as cautiously concerned, that in 1720 he was possessed of £45,500 stock, by dispos ing of which when it bore an extremely advanced price, he realized a. considerable sum. While we are compelled, in this sketch of Mr Guy s life, to associate his name with one of the most infamous transactions in Period.] THOMAS GUY. J21 the commercial history of our country, it is due to his memory, as weV as to the cause of christian charity, to add, that no dishonourable im putation ever attached to him on this score. To his relations he was attentive while he lived ; and his actions prove that he did not hoard up his means until they could no longer be of use to himself. The munifi cent founder of Guy's hospital was a man of very humble appearance, and of a melancholy cast of countenance. One day, while pensively lean ing over one ofthe bridges, he attracted the attention and commisera tion of a bystander, who, apprehensive that he meditated self-destruc tion, could not refrain from addressing him with an earnest entreaty not to let his misfortunes tempt him to commit any rash act ; then placing in his hand a guinea, with the delicacy of genuine benevolence, he has tily withdrew. Guy, roused from his reverie, followed the stranger, and warmly expressed his gratitude, but assured him he was mistaken in supposing him to be either in distress of mind or of circumstances, making an earnest request to be favoured with the name of the good man,, his intended benefactor. The address was given, and they parted. Some years after, Guy observing the name ofhis friend in the bankrupt list, hastened to his house ; brought to his recollection their former in terview ; found, upon investigation, that no blame could be attached to him under his misfortunes ; intimated his ability, and also his full inten tion to serve him ; entered into immediate arrangements with his credi tors, and finally re-established him in a business, which ever after pros pered in his hands, and in the hands of his children's children, for many years, in Newgate-street His humane plan of founding an hospital having been matured, Guy, at the age of seventy-six, procured from the governors of St Thomas's hospital, Southwark, the lease of a. large piece of ground for a term of 999 years, at a rent of £30 a year. Having cleared the space, which was then occupied by a number of good dwelling-houses, he laid the first stone ofhis new building in 1722. He lived to see it covered in ; but before the excellent machine had begun to work he was laid in the grave ; for the hospital received within its wall's the first patient on the 6th of January, 1725, and its founder died on the 27th of December, 1724. His trustees faithfully effected the completion of his great and good design, and procured an act of parliament for establishing the foundation, according to the directions of his will. Some of the wards are for surgical cases, one for accidents ; tbe remainder are filled ac cording to circumstances. It is estimated, that of about three thousand patients who enter in the course of the year — the present average of admissions — nine-tenths go out cured. Besides this, the hospital relieves upwards of fifty thousand out-patients. The means of usefulness, in deed, enjoyed by this admirable establishment, have lately admitted of an abundant increase by the munificent bequest of £196,000 made a W years since by Mr Hunt, a hundred inmates more being accommo dated in consequence. iv. 122 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth Ftstount iHoftatoorti). BORN a. D. 1656. — DIED A. D. 1725. This upright and accomplished statesman was descended from an old English, family, but his father having served in the civil wars in Ire land, afterwards settled in Dublin as a merchant. His son, and only child, the subject ofthe present article, was born and educated in Dub lin. Possessed of an ample patrimony, and connected by marriage with the earl of Bellamont, he soon entered into political life, and distinguished himself by his ardent zeal for the house of Orange. William rewarded his services by giving him tbe appointment of envoy-extraordinary tc the court of Denmark, where he resided three years. On his return home he published ' An account of Denmark,' in which he laboured to teach his countrymen the value of civil and religious freedom, by exhibiting the effects of despotic government in Denmark. The book was most favourably received by the English public, and was speedily translated into foreign languages. It received the high appro bation of the author of the ' Characteristics,' who thus writes to Moles worth, many years after its publication : " You have long had my heart, even before I knew you personally. For the holy and truly pious man who revealed the greatest of mysteries, — he who, with a truly ge nerous love to mankind and his country, pointed out the state of Den-: mark to other states, and prophesied of things highly important to the growing age, — he, I say, had already gained me as his sworn friend be fore he was so kind as to make friendship reciprocal by his acquaintance and expressed esteem." Molesworth served his country in both kingdoms, being chosen mem ber of the Irish house of commons for the borough of Swordes j and of the English house for those of Bodmyn, St Michael, and East Retford. He was also a member of Anne's 'privy-council, until near the close of her majesty's reign, when he was found too liberal for the dominant party, and had excited the wrath of the lower house of convocation by his contemptuous treatment of that nest of bigots. Steele defended Molesworth in the ' Crisis,' and Swift assailed him in his pamphlet en titled ' Public Spirit ofthe Whigs. Dr William King had already la boured in his vocation to traduce the ' Account of Denmark. George I. made Molesworth a member of his Irish privy-council in 1714, and two years afterwards advanced him to the Irish peerage by the title of Baron Philipstown and Viscount Molesworth of Swordes; He died in 1725. Besides the work already mentioned, Molesworth was the author of several political tracts, all breathing a large and liberal spirit, and written with force and elegance. In the printed correspond ence of Locke and Molyneux, there are several letters which show the high respect these eminent men had for the viscount. Period.] 123 Mt dfratuts poster. died a.d. 1727. Francis Hosier became a lieutenant in the navy in the year 1692, and after serving in that station on board different ships for the space of four years, he was raised to the rank of captain, and appointed to the Winchelsea frigate of thirty-two guns. Though the service never boasted a more gallant or abler officer than this gentleman, yet misfortune ap pears to have attended him, on most occasions, through life. After a variety of uninteresting commands, he was, about the year 1710, ap pointed captain of the Salisbury, and being sent on a cruise off Cape Clear, in company with the St Albans, there experienced for the first time a gleam of success, by falling in with a French ship of war mount ing sixty guns, which struck to the Salisbury after a smart action. Al though Captain Hosier continued several years in commission subse quent to this time, yet no particular mention is made of him till 1719, when he was appointed second captain of the Dorsetshire, on board which the earl of Berkley had hoisted his flag in virtue of a special com mission, Vice-admiral Littleton commanded as first captain, and Hosier as second, with the honorary rank of rear-admiral of the blue. On the 8th of May, 1720, he was advanced to be rear-admiral of the white, and served during the current year, as well as the succeeding, as second in command of the fleet sent under the orders of Sir John Norris into the Baltic. In 1722 he was appointed to act in the same capacity un der Sir Charles Wager. Public tranquillity remained in a great measure undisturbed for the space of four years after this cloud had passed over. The confederacy, which in 1726 was supposed, and indeed avowed to have been entered into between the Spanish and Russian courts, rendering it prudent in the eyes of the British ministry to despatch squadrons into different parts' of the world, that destined for the West Indies, with the intention of overawing the Spaniards in that quarter, was put under the orders of Admiral Hosier, who hoisted his flag on board the Breda of seventy guns, and sailed from Plymouth on the 9th of April. After a very te dious passage he arrived off the Bastimentos, near Porto-Bello, where he cruised for six months, until the naturally unwholesome climate, and the dreadful effects of that destructive malady the scurvy, at length compelled him to return, to Jamaica, with scarcely men enough left to navigate the squadron back into port. Fortunately there chanced to be a considerable number of seamen at Jamaica who were out of em* ploy, and the vice-admiral was enabled to put to sea at the expiration of little more than two months, during whicli the ships of the squadron were as well refitted as circumstances would permit. From the time of his having quitted port, till the month of August ensuing, the British squadron, with the most undaunted perseverance, kept the sea. The conduct, however, which Hosier was compelled to observe towards the enemy, began to have a visible effect on his mind and healtfi ; he was restrained, by his orders, from acting offensively towards those who daily insulted him by the outrages they committed against his country- 124 political series. [Sixth men, and his pride felt itself wounded irrevocably by that enjoined apa thy with which he was compelled to behold the insolent conduct of an arrogant and presuming enemy. He died at sea, as is most confidently reported, of mere chagrin, on the 23d of August, 1727. He was a few days before his death advanced to be vice-admiral of the white squa dron, but he died ere the news of his promotion reached the West In dies. A commission was also sent out, empowering the governor of Jamaica to confer on him the honour of knighthood ; which, it is believ ed, he received. aaussd, <£ail of tfrftnft* BORN A. D. 1652. — DIED A. D. 1727. This celebrated character, better known, however, to the world un der the name of Admiral Russel, than by the title which he acquired in the latter part of his life, was the son of Edward Russel, fourth son of - Francis, earl of Bedford. His own disposition, and the wishes of his " father, leading him to make choice of the sea as a profession, he entered into the naval service as a volunteer at a very early age. In the year 1680 he was raised to the rank of captain in the navy, and appointed to the Newcastle ; but there is a complete chasm in his naval life from this time till after the Revolution had taken place, when he was, in reward for political services, appointed by King William admiral of the blue squadron. In the year 1692, fortune, the ill stars of Louis XIV., and the extra ordinary conduct of the Count de Tourville, threw that admiral into nearly the same situation into which Lord Torrington had been preci pitated immediately previous to the battle off Beachy-head. " The force ofthe enemy has been variously represented; some asserting their number to have amounted to no more than forty-four sail of the line, while others, in their eagerness to diminish the disparity of strength, have augmented them to sixty-three. The former, however, appears to have been the proper statement. The division from Toulon, which would have raised the fleet up to the higher number, certainly had not joined. The combined fleets of England and the States sent forth to oppose this armament, amounted to no less than ninety-nine ships of the line. Against this mighty force the Count de Tourville having been hardy enough to make head, however rash the attempt might be, cer tainly displayed every noble trait of character that could adorn a great and noble commander. He contended the whole day, and at last made good his retreat, with the loss of not more than one ship in the encoun ter itself, which blew up by accident." , In 1694, Russel was invested with the station of first commissioner ior executing the office of lord- high-admiral. The very commencement jf naval operations proved inauspicious, but it were unfair to attach to Mr Russel the blame, naturally due somewhere, in consequence of the failure ofthe attack upon Brest, and the sacrifice of the brave General Talmash with the troops under his command. In his very ostensible situation of first commissioner for executing the office of lord-high-ad miral, he was accountable only for the advice he gave on the occasion. Period] DANIEL DE FOE. 125 the execution ofthe project having been committed to Lord Berkeley. The last service on which Russel was employed, as a naval commander, was the blockading of De Tourville in Toulon. In 1697, King William being about to embark for Holland, Russel was appointed one of the lords-justices for conducting the affairs of government during his ab sence, and was at the same time raised to the peerage by the titles of Baron Shingey, Viscount Barfleur, and Earl of Orford. The noble earl contented himself from this time with acting in a private station, so far as was compatible with his rank, influence, and fortune ; that is to say, he took no part in the administration of public affairs till the 8th of No vember, 1709, when he accepted the station of first commissioner for executing the office' of lord-high-admiral. On the removal of the earl of Godolphin about eleven months afterwards, his lordship again quitted the admiralty-board ; but on the decease of the queen he became one ofthe lords-justices for managing public affairs, till the arrival of King George I. The new sovereign received him into the highest favour, ap pointed him one of his privy-council, and in a short time after his arriv al reinstated him in his former honourable post at the admiralty-board. On the 16th of April, 1717, he finally quitted that situation, and also all further concern with public affairs. He died on the 26th of November, 1727. BORN A.D. 1661. DIED A.D. 1731. Daniel Foe, or De Foe as he chose afterwards to call himself, was born in the city of London in the year 1661. His parents were respectable dissenters, and placed their son to be educated at the dis senting academy of the Rev. Charles Morton at Newington Green. The tutors in these seminaries in De Foe's time were in general men of learning and abilities, yet it cannot be supposed that their pupils en joyed advantages at all equal to those possessed by young men attend ing the universities. De Foe himself admits this; but claims for his master the praise of putting his pupils through a more rational course of study than that followed in most contemporary establishments, where — to use his -own words — the masters " being careful to keep the knowledge of the tongues, tie down their pupils so exactly; and limit them so strictly, to perform every exercise, and to have all their readings in Latin or in Greek, that, at the end of the severest term of study, they come out unacquainted with English, though that is the tongue in which all their gifts are to shine." Morton acted upon another princi ple, and made it a prime business in his academy to instil a thorough acquaintance with their own tongue into the pupils ; and De Foe as sures us that more of them "excelled in this particular than of any school at that time. There were produced," he adds, " of ministers, Mr Timothy Cruso, Mr Hannot of Yarmouth, Mr Nathaniel Taylor, Mr Owen, and several others ; and of another kind, poets, Samuel Wesley, Daniel De Foe, and two or three of your western martyrs, that, had they lived, would have been extraordinary men of their kind : viz. Kitt, Battersby, young Jenkins, Hewling, and many more." 126 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTH De Foe, though he got a good education, was brought up to trade by his parents ; but he appears to have been fonder of writing books than selling hosiery. His first publication appeared in 1683. It was entitled, ' A Treatise against the Turks,' and was written in opposition to the prevailing sentiment of the day, which was in favour of the Ot toman power as opposed to that of Austria. In 1685 he got engaged in the duke of Monmouth's imprudent enterprise. The fate of tha.t expedition probably damped the military ardour of the young aspirant after fame, but it formed an era in his life on which he seems to have looked back with peculiar satisfaction. In 1687 he published a tract, the object of which was to open the eyes pf dissenters to the true nature of the insidious toleration with which James II. attempted to deceive them, and to mortify the leaders of the dominant religion. Up to this period occasional conformity had been practised by dissenters, who- ac cepted official employments with the legal qualifications, without giving much offence to either party ; amongst others, Sir Humphrey Edwip, a presbyterian, who had been elected lord-mayor in September, 1697, was in the practice of attending one service at the established church, and another service at his usual place of worship amongst the dissent ers, every Sunday. This arrangement might not have attracted any particular notice had Sir Humphrey not, upon one occasion, carried the regalia of his office with him to Pinners'-hall meeting-house. This im- prudentstep roused the jealousy of both churchmen and dissenters, though upon different and opposite principles ; and the wits of the day reaped a plentiful harvest from the general excitement of the public mind upon the subject. De Foe viewed the case with a more serious eye than many of his brethren- of the pen, and treated it with his accustomed gravity in a tract entitled, : An Inquiry into the Occasional Con formity of Dissenters in cases of preferment.' " In this work," says his latest biographer, Mr Wilson, " the author appearsbefore us in the char acter of an acute casuist. Assuming as a principle that dissenters in his day continued to separate from the established church from the same. motive that actuated the early puritans, that is, to attain a greater purity of worship, he argues that the fast and loose game of religion, which was then played by too many, will not admit of any satisfactory excuse." De Foe was in fact a dissenter ofthe staunchest class, and took every opportunity of protesting against the trimming system of occasional conformity. We have hinted at De Foe's repugnance to the avocations and toils of the countingrhouse. As might have been expected, his pecuniary affairs soon fell into embarrassment, and in 1692 one of his creditors took out a commission of bankruptcy against him, but the writ was instantly superseded on the petition of the rest, who accepted a com position on his own single bond, which he punctually paid by efforts of unwearied diligence. It is also recorded to his lasting honour, that some of his creditors, who had accepted of his composition, fell after wards into distress themselves, De Foe finding himself able, volun tarily paid his whole debts to them in full. Under King William, De Foe enjoyed considerable court patronage, but he never allowed the sunshine of royal favour to blind him to the great cause of civil and religious liberty. His remonstrance against the imprisonment of some members of the grand jury of Kent, who had presented to thtf Period.] DANIEL DE FOE. 127 commons a petition in which they prayed honourable members to " mind the public business more and their private heats less," is re markable for its bold truths and unshrinking freedom of expression. About this time he published another seasonable tract, entitled, ' The original power of the collective body of the people of England examined and asserted.' Of this treatise Mr Chalmers declares that " it vies with Locke's famous tract in powers of reasoning, and is superior to it in the graces of style." The same biographer has pronounced his ' Reasons against a war with France' to be one of the finest tracts in the English language. The death of King William and accession of Queen Anne placed De Foe, and the dissenters generally, in perilous circumstances. Anne in herited the hostility of the Stuarts to every thing in the shape of non conformity to church or state ; and as to De Foe it has been well-ob served, that for the previous twenty years of his life he had been uncon sciously charging a mine which now blew himself and his family into the air. He had fought for Monmouth ; he had opposed King James ; he had vindicated the Revolution ; he had panegyrized King William ; he had defended the rights of the collective body of the people ; he had displeased Lord Godolphin and the duke of Marlborough ; he had bantered Sir Edward Seymour and the tory leaders of the commons ; he had ridiculed all the ' high-flyers' in the kingdom ; and the accumulated indignation and wrath of all these parties and persons now hung like a thunder-cloud above his devoted and defenceless head. At last the storm burst upon him. In the month of January 1703, a proclama tion appeared, offering a reward of £50 for De Foe's apprehension, as the author of a libel entitled, ' The shortest way with the Dissenters.' In the Gazette, De Foe is described as " a middle-sized spare man, about forty years old, of a brown complexion, and dark brown hair, though he wears a wig, having a hook-nose, a sharp chin, grey eyes, and a large mole near his mouth." The brochure just mentioned was a playful piece of irony, in which the author gravely proposed, as the easiest and speediest way of ridding the land off dissenters, to hang their ministers and banish the people. But both churchmen and dissenters viewed the whole in a serious light ; and while many of the former ap plauded the author as a staunch and worthy churchman, as many of the latter, filled with apprehensions dire, began to prepare for Tyburn and Smithfleld. De Foe perceiving matters assume so serious an as pect, gave himself up, and hastened to assure all parties that he had written but in jest. In the issue, however, he found his jest a very serious affair. He was tried at the Old Bailey sessions in the month of July, 1703, and sentenced to pay a fine of 200 marks, to stand three times in the pillory, and be imprisoned during the queen's pleasure. The sentence reflected more dishonour on the court itself than its pri soner, and what was meant to stamp disgrace upon De Foe, eventually proved a source of triumph and satisfaction to him ; for he was accom panied to the pillory by the populace, who expressed their sympathy for him aloud ; and when taken down, loud bursts of applause broke forth from. the surrounding multitude, — a circumstance which drew from one of his political antagonists this couplet, " The shouting crowds their advocate proclaim, And varnish over infamy with fame." 128 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth De Foe himself treated the whole affair with the contempt it deserved, by publishing a ' Hymn to the pillory,' full of pointed satire against his persecutors. Whilst in prison, his ever-active mind projected a variety of employment for the future, in all which the great objects of religious and political freedom were kept steadily in view. In August,1 1704, he was released from prison through the interference of Harley, then sec retary of state, who evinced a desire to protect him against his numer ous enemies, and even recommended him to-the queen and Lord Go dolphin as a man of talents and integrity, whose services might be of use to the government. Harley's recommendation led to his employ ment in several important and delicate affairs of state. In 1706 he un dertook a mission to Scotland, connected with the then projected union of the two kingdoms, and in this service he proved an invaluable ally to the ministry, though he suffered a second prosecution for his political . writings before the death of the queen. In 1709 he published his ' His- • tory ofthe Union.' It would lead us into greater length of detail than our limits afford to enumerate all the successive publications of (this in defatigable author. With the exception of Prynne himself, De Foe was the most voluminous writer of his age. His biographer, Wilson, has furnished a list of two hundred and ten separate pieces from his pen, and he does not consider the list complete. His ' History of the Union' is a book of first-rate authority and importance. His ' Review,' a periodical work wbich he conducted for a period of nine years, gave to Steele and Addison the first idea of their celebrated Guardians and Spectators. His ' Tour through England and Scotland' is one of the best as well as earliest of a family which has since become so numerous in the annals of our literature. His ' Family Instructor,' published in ¦ 1715, gave Richardson the first idea of his ' Pamela,' ' Clarissa Har- lowe,' and other novels. His ' History of the Plague' is a piece of unrivalled descriptive narrative, and was mistaken by Mead himself for* an authentic record of facts. But the work which must ever immortal ize his name, is his ' Robinson Crusoe,' which, from its first appearance* up to the present hour, has been the most popular work of fiction in the English language. His ' Memoirs of a Cavalier during the civil wars in England' is another romance the most like to truth that ever was written. It was a favourite book with the great earl of Chatham, who, before he discovered it to be a fiction, used to speak of it as the best account of the civil wars extant. Upon a review of the various and multiform writings of this extraordinary man, Mr Wilson draws the satisfactory conclusion, that " religion was uppermost in his mind, — ; that he reaped its consolations, and lived under an habitual sense of its practical importance." He died on the 24th of April, 1731. His reflections on his own history present us with a better, and we doubt not, a more faithful view of the entire man, than any thing we can offer in their room, and we shall, therefore, insert them here : — " I • am a stoick," says he, " in whatever may be the event of things. I'll do and say what I think is a debt to justice and truth, without the least regard to clamour and reproach ; and as I am utterly unconcerned at human opinion, the people that throw away their breath so freely in censuring me, may consider of some better improvement to make of their passions, than to waste them on a man that is both above and below the reach of them. I know too much of the world to expect Period ] DANIEL DE FOE. 129 good in it, and have learnt to value it too little to be concerned at the evil. I have gone through a life of wonders, and am the subject of a vast variety of providences : I have been fed more by miracle than Elijah, when the ravens were his purveyors. I have sometime ago summed up the scenes of my life in this distich : — - No man has tasted, differing fortunes more, And thirteen times I have been rich and poor. In the school of affliction I have learnt more philosophy than at the academy, and more divinity than from the pulpit : in prison I have learnt to know that liberty does not consist in open doors, and the free egress and regress of locomotion. I have seen the rough side of the world as well as the smooth ; and have, in less than half a year, tasted the difference between the closet of a king and the dungeon of New gate. I have suffered deeply for cleaving to principles, of which in tegrity I have lived to say, none but those I suffered for ever reproached me with it." Such was the man who, by his writings, exercised a greater influence over the public mind in the beginning of the last cen tury than any of his gifted contemporaries. He was framed for the period in which his lot was cast. The times were troublous, and the politics of the day too often of a suspicious and shifting cast ; but De FOe's principles were of the sternest kind, and his own character was one of" adamantine firmness. Unawed by threats, — undeterred by suf fering, — uninfluenced by personal interest, — he held on the upright tenor of his way, amidst difficulties which would have crushed a less intrepid soul than his; and it is for a grateful posterity, now rejoicing in the possession of these civil and religious liberties to a full sense of tbe importance of which De Foe first awoke his countrymen, to award him a place amongst the purest, most intrepid, and, on the whole, most suc cessful of England's patriots. The following passages, wliich we select from his treatise, entitled ' The Original Power of the Collective body of the People of England examined and asserted,' will give the reader a pretty clear idea of De Foe's political sentiments : — " 1. Salus Populi Suprema Lex: all government, and consequently our whole constitution, was originally designed, and is maintained, for the support of the people's property, who are the governed. " 2. All the members of government, — whether king, lords, or com mons, — if they invert the great end of their institution, the public good, cease to be, in the same public capacity, and power retreats to its original. " 3. No collective or representative body of men whatsoever, in mat ters of politics any more than religion, are, or ever have been, infallible. " 4. Reason is the test and touch-stone of laws ; and all law or power that is contradictory to reason is, ipso facto, void in itself, and ought notfto be obeyed. " Some other maxims less general are the consequence of these ; as, " First, That such laws as are agreeable to reason and justice being once made, are binding both to king, lords, and commons, either separ ately or conjunctively, till they are actually repealed in due form. " That if either of the three powers do dispense with, suspend,"or otherwise break, any of the known laws so made, they injure the con- iv. n 130 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth stitution ; and the power so acting ought to be restrained by the other powers not concurring, according to what is lately allowed, that every branch of power is designed as a check upon each other. " But if all the three powers should join in such an irregular action, the constitution suffers a convulsion, dies, and is dissolved of course. " Nor does it suffice to say, that king, lords, and commons, can do no wrong ; since the mutual consent of parties, on which that foolish maxim is grounded, does not extend to every action king, lords, and commons, are capable of doing. " There are laws which respect the common rights ofthe people, as they are the parties to be governed : and with respect to these the king can do no wrong, but all is laid upon his ministers, who are accountable. " And there are laws which particularly respect the constitution, the king, lords, and commons, as they are the parties governing : in this regard, each branch may wrong and oppress the other, or altogether may do wrong to the people they are made to govern. " The king may invade the people's properties ; and if the lords and commons omit to defend and protect them, they all do wrong, by a tacit approving those abuses they ought to oppose. " The commons may extend their power to an exorbitant degree, in imprisoning the subject, — dispensing with the Habeas Corpus act, — • giving unlimited power to their Serjeant to oppress the people in his custody, — withholding writs of election from boroughs and towns, and several other ways ; which, if they are not checked, either by the king or the lords, they are altogether parties to the wrong, and the subject is apparently injured. " The lords may err in judicature, and denyjtfstice to the commons, or delay it upon punctilios and studied occasions ; and if neither the king nor the commons take care to prevent it, delinquents are excused, and criminals encouraged, and all are guilty of the breach of common justice. " That, to prevent this, it is absolutely necessary, that in matters of dispute the single power should be governed by the joint, and that nothing should be so insisted upon as to break the correspondence. " That the three should be directed by the law, and where that is silent, by reason. " That every person concerned in the law is in his measure a judge of the reason, and therefore in his proper place ought to be allowed to give his reason, in case of dissent. " That every single power has an absolute negative upon the acts of the other; and if the people, who are without doors, find reason to ob ject, they may do it by petition. " But because, under pretence of petitioning, seditious and turbulent people may foment disturbances, tumults, and disorders, the subject's right of petitioning being yet recognised and preserved, the circum stances of such petitions are regulated by laws as to the numbers and qualities ofthe persons petitioning. " But the laws have no where prescribed the petitioners to any form of words ; and therefore no pretence of indecency of expression can be so criminal as to be destructive of the constitution, because though it may deserve the resentment of the petitioned, yet it is not an illegal act nor a breach of any law. Period.] BYNG, LORD VISCOUNT TORRINGTON. 131 " And yet the representative body of the people eught not to be bantered or affronted neither, at the will and pleasure of any private person without doors, who finds cause to petition them. " But if any expression be offensive to the house, it seems reasonable that the persons who are concerned therein should be required to ex plain themselves ; and if upon such explanation the house find no satis faction as to the particular affront, they are at liberty to proceed as the law directs, but no otherwise. " And to me the silence of the law in that case seems to imply, that rejecting the petition is a contempt due to any indecency of that nature, and as much resentment as the nature of the thing requires ; but, as to breaking in upon personal liberty, which is a thing the law is so tender of, and has made so strong a fence about, I dare not affirm it is a justi fiable procedure ; no, not in the house of commons. It is alleged, that it has been practised by all parliaments ; which is to me far from an argument to prove the legality of it. " I think it may pass for a maxim, that a man cannot be legally pu nished for a crime which there is no law to prosecute. Now, since there is no law to prosecute a man for indecency of expression in a pe tition to the house- of commons, it remains a doubt with me how they can be legally punished. " Precedents are of use to the houses of parliament, where the laws are silent in things relating to themselves, and are doubtless a sufficient authority to act from ; but whether any precedent, usage, or custom, of any body of men whatever, can make a thing lawful, which the laws have expressly forbid, remains a doubt with me. " It were to be wished some of our parliaments would think fit, at one time or another, to clear up the point of the authority of the house of commons in case of imprisoning such as are not of their house, that having the matter stated by those wbo are the only expositors of our laws, we might be troubled with no more ' legion libels,' to tell them what is, or is not, legal in their proceedings. " The good of the people governed is the end of all government, and the reason and original of governors ; and upon this foundation it is that it has been the practice of all nations, and of this in particular, that if the mal-administration of governors has extended to tyranny and op pression, — to the destruction of rigbt and justice, overthrowing the con stitution, and abusing the people, — the people have thought it lawful to reassume the right of government into their own hands, and to reduce their governors to reason." SSgitfi, Horfc Ftoaunt Corriufitou. BORN A. D. 1663. DIED A. D. J 732-3 This nobleman was the eldest son of John Byng, Esq. of Wrothaui in the county- of Kent. He was born at his father's seat on the 27th of January, 1663. Having imbibed a very early attachment to the naval service, he procured, in the year 1678, through the interest of his royal highness, James, duke of York, what was then called ' the king's letter,' a necessary species of warrant or permission for entering 132 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXIM the service in the rank of an officer. In 1681, he quitted the sea ser vice for a time, and entering into the army, through the persuasion of General Kirk, at that time governor of Tangier, became a cadet. But on its having been determined by the English government to evacuate Tangier, Byng was advised to return again to his original line of ser vice, and was appointed lieutenant of the Oxford. Although he held no higher station than that of lieutenant in the navy, at the time of the Revolution, yet, having returned to England some months before that event took place, he soon displayed all the propensity to political intrigue which renders the service of a man so gifted peculiarly valuable in the hour of popular tumult and commo tion. His abilities in this line of service recommended him to the prince of Orange, who employed him as a confidential person to sound the dispositions of, and tamper with such officers as it was thought could be useful, and attach thein if possible to the cause of the Revolution. Byng being, from the strong bias of his political prejudices, a vehement enemy to the government, and perhaps to the person of King James IL, executed his function with great diligence and zeal. Immediately after the accession of William to the British throne, Byng was appointed to the Dover, and quickly afterwards advanced to be captain of a third rate, the Hope, of seventy guns. He held no naval commission subsequent to the peace of Ryswick, till after the accession of queen Anne ; he was then appointed captain of the Nassau one of the squadron sent under the orders of Sir Cloudesley Shovel, ts Vigo, in the month of October, 1702. Soon after his return to Eng: land, he was advanced to the rank of rear-admiral of the red squadron, Having hoisted his flag on board the Ranelagh, of eighty guns, he proceeded to the Mediterranean under the orders of Sir Cloudesley Shovel. Towards the close ofthe same year he was sent to Algiers, to renew a treaty of peace which then subsisted between Great Britain and that regency. In the brilliant naval operations of 1704, Admiral Byng bore a pre-eminent share. The attack on Gibraltar was solely confided to his command by the admiral-in-chief; and, at the battle of Malaga, his division suffered more than any in the fleet, that of Sir George Rooke only excepted. Oh his return to England he was re ceived at court with the most flattering approbation by the queen, who conferred on him the honour of knighthood. On the 26th of January, 1707, Sir George was advanced to be rear-* admiral of the blue, and appointed to command a squadron sent into the North seas, in order to oppose the French armament commanded by the Chevalier de Forbin, one of the ablest officers in the French navy, equipped for the purpose of covering the invasion of Scotland. The activity displayed by Sir George, and the surprise occasioned by his sudden appearance off the coast of Flanders, paralyzed the further prosecution of the enemy's plan ; and on the French vessels ultimate ly putting to sea, Sir George compelled them almost instantly to re turn to port. Some political disagreements caused him to resign the post of com missioner of the admiralty, in the year 1713; and, during the very short remainder of the queen's reign, he retired into private life. The j accession of King George I. reinstated him in his civil appointment; and, in the year 1715, he was again made commander-in-chief of a fleet' Period.] THOMAS FORSTER. 133 sent into the North sea for the purpose of preventing the introduction of any supplies from France into Scotland for the use of the preten der, who had arrived there in person a short time before. The activity which he displayed on this occasion, and the political address with which he, in a great measure, neutralized the support of France so far as it extended to the cause of the house of Stuart, were so extremely satisfactory and grateful to the king, that he created him a baronet, and presented him with a very valuable diamond ring as an especial mark ofhis own personal esteem for hiin. In 1717, a repetition of a similar attempt being threatened, under the auspices of that ever-restless prince, Charles XII. of Sweden, Sir George Byng was sent into the Baltic with a strong squadron, and his appearance there put an end to the scheme, for it prevented the Swedish fleet from ever getting out to sea. In the.following year, Spain having manifested the strongest inclina tion to disturb the public quietude, by equipping a very formidable fleet in the Mediterranean, destined, it was supposed, for an attack up on Naples, Sir George Byng was sent thither with an armament, con sisting of twenty ships of the line and six smaller vessels. The British flee., was, on its arrival, hailed by the Neapolitans with a joy almost bordering on frenzy. During the remainder ofthe current year, and the whole ofthe ensuing, the admiral continued in the Mediterranean, and, by the succour and assistance of different kinds whicli he unremitting ly afforded to the imperialists, he enabled them to maintain their ground so successfully against the superior army of Spain, that the court of Madrid at length condescended to accede to the quadruple alliance in the month of February, 1719-20, and to the cessation of hostilities in the month of May following. The eminent services rendered by the admiral could not fail of plac ing him extremely high in the esteem of his sovereign. The honorary appointment of rear-admiral of Great Britain, with the more pecuniari ly advantageous one of treasurer to tbe navy, were among the first marks ofhis sovereign's munificence ; but they were only the forerunners ofhis future honours. In the month of January, 1720-21, he was sworn in a member of his majest3''s privy-council ; and, in the month of Sep tember following, was raised to the peerage, by the titles of Baron Southhill, and Viscount Torrington. In the year 1725, on the revival ofthe order ofthe Bath, his lordship was elected and installed as one of the knight-companions ; during the whole of the same reign he possessed not merely the favour, but tbe personal friendship of his sovereign. On the accession of George II. he was appointed first- lord-commissioner of the admiralty, which high office he continued to hold during the remainder of his life. He died on the 17th ol January, 1732-3, being then in the 70th year ofhis age. ®ljomas dforsttr. BORN A. D. 1675. — DIED A. D. 1734. This gentleman was born in Northumberland about the year 1675. For the first thirty years of his life he was scarcely known beyond the 134 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth precincts ofhis paternal domain. At length he began to take a share in the politics ofthe day, and, in 1710, was chosen one of the repre sentatives in parliament of his native county. He was a zealous pro testant, but his notions as to the succession to the British crown were of such a kind that the partizans of James Stuart easily succeeded in attaching bim to their cause, and his house soon became the great rendezvous for all the papists and non-jurors in the north of England. On the first adoption of measures for preserving the peace of the , country in 1715, a warrant was issued for the apprehension of Forster, who instantly fled in disguise to the house of one Fenwick, at Bywell. Soon afterwards, he, and about twenty other gentlemen, took up arms, and declared for the pretender. They were joined by the earl of Derwentwater, and having marched upon Warkworth, Forster at that place proclaimed James Edward Stuart, king of Britain, by the title of James III. This took place on the 7th of October; on the 10th they proceeded to Morpeth, where the prince was again proclaimed by one Buxton, a clergyman. From Morpeth; Forster's party moved to wards Newcastle ; but, finding the gates of that place closed against them, they turned towards Hexham. At this latter place they were joined by several ofthe Scottish partizans of the bouse of Stuart, and Forster received a commission from the earl of Mar to act as general of the insurgents in the meantime. He soon evinced, however, that he was utterly destitute of the talents requisite for such a charge, at such a crisis. Having marched to Kelso, he lingered there in a state of utter inactivity for seven days ; and, on the arrival of tbe royalist general, Carpenter, in the neighbourhood, he betook himself to a series of the most vacillating and unsoldier-like movements, — now seeming as if he would fall back upon the west of Scotland, now threatening Dum fries, and finally marching upon Kirby-Lonsdale in Westmoreland. Here he might have remained with considerable safety for a time, un til reinforcements had gathered around him ; but he infatuatedly pro ceeded towards Preston, where he was soon hemmed in by generate Carpenter and Wills. The result is too well known ; the Highland chiefs would have attempted to cut their way though the enemy's ranks, sword in hand, but their English allies refused to join them, and Forster, in particular, urged a capitulation. , The house of commons expelled Forster from his seat in the month of January, 1716. It had been arranged that he should be tried for high treason on fhe 14th of April following, but four days previous to the day of trial, Forster made his escape, and got safely to France. He continued in exile for the remainder of his life, and is supposed to have died at Paris in 1734. •jf tt^ames, 3Bufet ot 2$eri»icfe. BORN A. D. 1670. DIED A. D. 1734. . "' James Fitzjames, duke of Berwick, the illegitimate son of James, 4v duke of York, afterwards James II. , by Arabella Churchill, sister to Marlborough, was born on the 21st of August, 1670, and educated with his brother, subsequently-duke of Albemarle, at Tully, the col- Period.] FITZJAMES, DUKE OF BERWICK. 135 lege of Plessis, and Paris. At the age of fifteen he entered the imperial army, and served a campaign in Hungary, where he obtained the com mand of a regiment of cuirassiers. On his return to England, although still under eighteen, he was appointed governor of Portsmouth. In the next summer he was made colonel of a regiment of infantry, and, soon after, of Lord Oxford's horse-guards. He surrendered Portsmouth to the prince of Orange by command of his royal father, with whom he embarked at Rochester for France. In March, 1689, he landed with James at Kinsale, and highly dis tinguished himself against the troops of William at Donegal, Enniskill- in, and other parts of Ireland ; he afterwards accompanied Louis XIV. as a volunteer, to the seat of war in Flanders. During the campaign of 1693, he was made prisoner by his uncle, Brigadier-general Church ill, brother to the duke of Marlborough. In 1695 he married a daugh ter of the earl of Clanricard ; but, having become a widower in 1698, on his return from a tour in Italy, about two years after, he formed a union with a niece of Lord Bulkeley. In 1702 he appears to have commanded part of the French forces in Flanders under the duke of Burgundy and Marshal Bouffl'ers ; and, in 1704, he served a campaign in Spain as captain-general of the forces of Philip V., who invested " him, for his services, with the order of the Golden fleece. During the next year, being recalled by the king of France, he held the supreme command in Languedoc ; and, having laid siege to Nice, then consid ered one of the strongest places in Europe, compelled it to capitulate. In February, 1 706, he was created marshal of France, and, shortly after, resumed the command of the army in Spain, "the previous disas ters of which he had the honour, in some measure, of retrieving. He obtained, as a mark of gratitude from the Spanish king, the title of duke of Berwick, with the towns of Liric, Xerica, and their depend encies. In 1708 he was appointed to command the French forces in Dau- phiny, but was shortly afterwards removed to the army under the elec tor of Bavaria, of which, although second in command, he is said to have solely directed the operations. In 1709 he obtained from Louis the dukedom of Warty ; and after having, in the interim, added mate rially to his reputation as a commander, he reduced, in 1714, the gar rison and city of Barcelona. About this time he appears to have devoted much of his attention to the restoration of the Stuarts. By means of Lady Masham, he and his party succeeded, as he states, in procuring the dismissal ofthe lord- treasurer, Harley ; " but, unfortunately," he adds, " before the new ministry could have time to concert their measures together, every hope of success was precluded by the death of the queen, which happened on the 12th of August, 1714, four days after the earl of Oxford's dis mission. The elector of Hanover was instantly proclaimed king, and, by his orders, every thing was changed. I was then in Catalonia, at too great a distance to act, or even to give advice ; and had I been at Paris, I should have been much embarrassed, considering the position of affairs. It was not our fault that we had not concerted any arrange ments in case ofthe event which had just happened ; and France, how ever well-inclined she might be, was not in a condition to risk a new 136 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth war to support the interests of the young pretender." The French monarch being either unwilling or unable to afford the Jacobites any assistance, Berwick applied for help to the king of Sweden, who, as he states, had eight thousand men encamped at Gottenburg, and sev eral transports in the harbour, which might have conveyed the troops to Scotland in eight-and-forty hours. The pretender agreed to pay down 50,000 crowns for the costs of embarkation. The court of France encouraged the enterprize. But the Swedish king, according to Ber wick, missed a glorious opportunity of advancing his affairs, or rather of relieving himself from oppression, by declining to afford the ex pected aid, alleging that he wanted the whole ofhis troops for the de fence of his own dominions. In 1716 the duke of Berwick was appointed to a military command in Guienne, and subsequently distinguished himself, on various occa sions, as a general of consummate skill and extraordinary courage, uutil 1734, when he was killed by a cannon-ball at the siege of Philipsburg. He is described as having been fond of glory ; but to have sought it, chiefly in the line of his duty, which no one knew or performed better than himself. In the hurry of the most difficult operations, and the heat of the warmest actions, he is said to have preserved " that tran quillity and coolness which is the effect of natural intrepidity, and a perfect knowledge of that art, which, in showing us all we have to fear from an enemy, points out, at the same time, what we have to oppose to him." Sames, <£arl of 25nfeelei>. BORN A. D. 1680. DIED A. D. 1736. The family of this nobleman has produced many distinguished naval characters. Sir William Berkeley, Charles Lord Berkeley, . and John Lord Berkeley of Stratton, were all distinguished names in the naval history of their country. The subject Of our present notice was the grandson of George, created first earl of Berkeley by Charles II., in 1679. He early manifested a decided predilection for maritime life and adventure ; -and having entered the navy, and passed with much credit through all the subordinate ranks, he was on the 2d of April, 1702, promoted to the Sorlings frigate. Almost immediately after the accession of Queen Anne, he was ap pointed to the Litchfield, a fourth-rate of fifty guns, with which he made some good captures. In the beginning ofthe year 1704, he was appointed to the Boyne, of eighty guns, and was soon after sent out Under Sir Cloudesley Shovel to reinforce Sir George Rooke's fleet in the Straits. He had been previously called up to the house of lords by writ under his honorary title of Lord Dursley. In the engagement off Malaga, the Boyne was fought with great judgment and gallantry.1 In 1706 Lord Dursley commanded the St George under Sir Cloudesley Shovel, in the Mediterranean ; and the next year he displayed great 1 Lediard. Period.] JAMES, EARL OF BERKELEY. 137 gallantry at the siege of Toulon. On his passage homewards the St George narrowly escaped sharing the fate of Sir Cloudesley 's vessel, the Association. On the 26th of January, 1707, this very young officer was made vice-admiral of the blue. This appointment was contrary to the prac tice at least of the service: it was his first appointment as a flag-officer, so that his lordship was advanced over the heads of every rear-admiral in the service, as well as ofhis senior captains. Political influence was no doubt the secret of his lordship's unexampled success ; yet his merits as a seaman were so "generally acknowledged, that the appointment was submitted to by his brother-officers without much complaint. He hoisted his flag on board the Berwick, and joined Sir George Byng's fleet, immediately after this last appointment. In 1708 he was made vice-admiral of the white. In these successive appointments Lord Dursley appears to have conducted himself with great energy and judg ment, especially in the protection of his country's commerce, and clearing the narrow seas of the swarms of privateers that then infested them ; but no opportunity offered of coming to any decisive action with the hostile fleets. By the death of his father, in September, 1710, he became earl of Berkeley, and was immediately constituted lord-lieutenant of Glouces tershire. In April, 1717, he was sworn a member of the privy-council, and on the same day appointed first lord-commissioner of the admiralty, which high station be continued to fill during the remainder of the reign of King George I. On the 13th of March, 1718-19, in anticipation of the rupture with Spain, he was appointed admiral and commander- in-chief of the fleet. The author of Sir J. Leake's life has the follow ing observations on his lordship's conduct : — " The earl of Berkeley being then vice-admiral of Great Britain^ — to which honorary station he was appointed on the 21st of March, 1718-19, at a time when Sir John Norris was rear-admiral only — and first lord-commissioner of the admiralty, endeavoured to come as near the lord-high-admiral as pos sible, both in power and state ; by a particular warrant from the crown he hoisted the lord-high-admiral's flag, as it is called — the first time, I believe, it was ever worn in command at sea — ^and had three captains appointed under him, as a lord-high-admiral, — Littleton, then viee-ad- miral ofthe white, being his first captain. This appointment was ren dered the more extraordinary from the circumstance of Sir John Nor ris, who was a senior flag-officer, being at that time employed in the channel, and honoured with no such distinction." The earl having hoisted his flag on board the Dorsetshire at Spithead, sailed from St Helens on the 29th of March, with a squadron of seven ships of the line, to join one of the same force under Sir John Norris, which was cruizing between Scilly and the Lizard. Having stretched as far as Cape Clear, he returned back into the British channel on the 4th of April; when coming into Spithead he struck his flag on the 15th, and repaired to London. After this time he appears to have retired totally from the line of active service, at least as a naval commander, thereby giving occasion to Swift to affirm of him that he was " intolerably lazy." Collins, briefly recapitulating the great variety of civil offices held by this noble lord, gives us the following short account of him, and adds some other heraldic particulars relative to his family : — " He was," says iv. s 138 POLITICAL SERIES. [Slxra he, " five times one of the lords-justices of Great Britain, whilst his majesty went to Hanover ; and being elected a knight of the most no ble order ofthe Garter on March 31st, 1718, he was installed on April 30th following, and placed in the fourteenth stall at Windsor. On September 15th, 1727, he was appointed lord-lieutenant of Lincoln shire by his late majesty ; and on November 10th, in that year, was constituted lord-lieutenant of the county of Gloucester, and cities and counties of Gloucester and Bristol, as also of the county of Surrey, and likewise Custos-rotulorum of the counties of Gloucester and Surrey : moreover, on the 17th of the same month, he was appointed keeper of the forest of Dean and constable of St Briavel's castle, also vice-admi ral of Great Britain, and lieutenant ofthe admiralties thereof, and lieu tenant of the navies and seas of this kingdom. He. departed this life at the castle of Aubigny, a seat of the duke of Richmond, near Roch- elle in France, being there for the recovery of his health, on the 17th of August, 1736, and was buried at Berkeley." JWortraunt, @wl ot ^ttttljotouQt). BORN A. D. 1658 DIED a. u. 1735. Charles Mordaunt, son of John, Lord Mordaunt of Reigate in Surrey, by Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Carey, second son of Robert, Earl of Monmouth, was born in 1658. When a mere boy he served on board the Mediterranean fleet under Admiral Torrington. In 1680 he was present at the siege of Tangier, but had previous to this date exchanged the naval for the military service. He succeeded to the titles and estate of his family in 1675, and appears to have embraced the politics of the opposition party from his earliest entrance on political life. Walpole states that he was implicated in Lord Rus sell's affairj and that he boldly accompanied Sydney to the scaffold : be this as it may, it is certain that he actively opposed the ill-advised pro ceeding of James II. , and eventually quitted England in disgust with the measures of the court. He retired to Holland. " The Lord Mor daunt," says Burnet, " was the first of all the English nobility that came over openly to see the prince of Orange. He asked the king's leave to do it. He was a man of much heat, many notions, and full of discourse. He was brave and generous, but had not true judgment. His thoughts were crude and undigested, and his secrets were soon known. He was with the prince in 1686 ; and then he pressed him to undertake the business of England, and he represented the matter as so easy, that this appeared too romantical to the prince to build upon it." Yet, adds Burnet soon after, he was " one whom his highness chiefly trusted, and by whose advice he governed his motions." When William ascended the throne of England, Mordaunt was crea ted earl of Monmouth ; on the 9th of April, 1 689, he was also nomina ted first-commissioner of the treasury. But we find him suddenly dismissed from the king's counsels ir the month of November 1690. The occasion of this rupture is not exactly known ; he retained his military appointments, however, and accompanied the horse-guards to the continent in 1692. Period. J MORDAUNT, EARL OF PETERBOROUGH. 139 In 1696, Monmouth was suddenly thrown into the Tower. Mr Gleig has thus compressed the substance of the information furnished by Tindal and Burnet on this transaction : " We need scarcely remind our readers, that in 1696 a plot for the assassination of King Wil liam was detected ; and that Sir John Fenwick, a violent Jacobite, was, along with other persons, arrested as one of the conspirators. Through the management of his wife, a near relative of the earl of Carlisle, one of the principal witnesses against the prisoner .was induced to fly the country ; so that, when the day of trial came, it was found necessary to suspend the proceedings, the testimony of one being in sufficient to convict of high treason. A bill of attainder was in conse quence introduced into parliament ; during the preparation and progress of which, considerable delays occurred ; and other and more powerful parties were, by means highly disgraceful to all concerned, dragged as it were before the bar of public opinion. A pamphlet appeared, having the name of Smith upon the title-page, which charged Lord Shrews bury with being accessory to tbe plot ; while Fenwick himself threw out more than one hint that the accusation was not absolutely ground less. As the proceedings went on, however, Fenwick refused to re peat his insinuations, or to fasten a positive charge on Lord Shrewsbury ; while Peterborough, who at first appeared reluctant to sanction the of attainder, spoke vehemently in favour of its passing. Strange oc currences followed upon this. The dutchess of Norfolk openly declared, that the whole device of Lord Shrewsbury's accusation originated with Lord Monmouth. She asserted that he, assisted by Dr Davenant, drew up the pamphlet of which Smith stood forth as the ostensible author ; and that Lady Fenwick had repeatedly been worked upon, the dutchess herself being the instrument, to encourage her husband in his designs against Shrewsbury. We are not called upon to decide whether this story, given in part by Tindal, in part by Bishop Burnet, be or be not correct : all that we know on the subject is, that an inquiry took place before both houses of parliament ; that Smith's book was pronounced by the commons to be libellous and false ; that both Fenwick and his lady confirmed before the lords the statements of the dutchess of Nor folk ; and that Peterborough suffered immediately afterwards, the dis grace of which we have already spoken. Yet, though the tale unde niably received credence at the time (and Marlborough among others believed it), the king would not push matters to an extremity. Mon mouth was liberated, after a short confinement ; and the loss (of places) says Burnet, ' was secretly made up to him ; for the court was resolved not to lose him quite.' " ' On the death of Henry, second earl of Peterborough, in June 1697 Monmouth, his nephew and heir-at-law, succeeded to the title. After this period, he does not appear for some years to have held any public office. In 1704, however, we find him appointed to command the land- forces sent into Spain with the view of exciting a movement on behalf of the Austrian party. His instructions on this occasion were con ceived in very general terms, and amounted to little more than an in definite commission to make "a vigorous push in Spain," and thus distract the attention of the enemy. He sailed in May, 1705, with an 1 Life of Peterborough in ' Cabinet Cyclopedia.' 140 POLITICAL SERIES. [Slim armament consisting of something less than 5,000 men, of whom one- third were Dutch, the rest English. On the 20th of June, he arrived in Lisbon, where he was joined by the prince of Hesse and the arch duke Charles, previous to sailing for the Tagus. This union was so far unfortunate, that it proved the cause of Peterborough abandoning a very brilliant and well-conceived plan for making a dash upon Madrid ; but he was compensated in a considerable degree for this disappointment by the reduction of Barcelona, — a task which, but for the inventive genius and extraordinary resources of the English commander, would have been utterly impracticable to an assailing force of six times the number. Almost equally brilliant in conception and execution was the scheme by which he contrived to relieve San Mateo, when hard pressed by the forces under Las Torres. " Among the various quali ties required in forming the character of an active military comman der," says Mr Gleig, " not the least important, perhaps, is the posses sion of a hardy and robust constitution : with this, nature had, in a striking degree, gifted Peterborough ; for, though slight of form, and delicately fair in his complexion, there was no extent of fatigue or pri vation which he seemed unable to endure. Night and day he was in the saddle ; scarce a patrol, however weak, sallied forth from head quarters, which he did not accompany either in part or throughout; and hence there was not a service performed, of the slightest importance, which he was not personally present to control. With such a leader at their head, we cannot be surprised to learn that every private trooper became a hero. There was not a man in his little corps, indeed, who did not feel that upon himself, in a great degree, depended the success or failure of the enterprise ; and hence there was not a man whose energies, both of mind and body, were not, from first to last, exerted to their utmost stretch. It is not surprising that men so acted upon by what may be termed the best spirit of chivalry, should have performed prodigies both of valour and discretion." There is little doubt, had Peterborough's suggestion been followed throughout, that the fate of the campaign in Spain against the duke of Berwick would have been very different from what it was: But Charles knew not the value of his man ; and when Peterborough, in a moment of disgust and disappointment, intimated his intentions of directing his future operations to the assistance of the duke of Savoy, no wish was expressed against the suggestion. His reception at the court of Turin, however, was disappointing, and for some time Peterborough appears to have led a restless and inglorious life, quarrelling successively with the chiefs of the Austrian party, and even with his patron Marlborough, In November, 1709, he presented himself in London, but kept aloof from court. He did not take any very prominent part in politics, but attached himself decidedly to Harley and the tories. " Time passed," says Mr Gleig, " and the increasing influence of the tories opened out to Peterborough prospects of honours more and more brilliant. The wrongs under which he believed that he had so long laboured, were gradually admitted as such in the highest quarter; and the session of 1710-11 brought with it a more than adequate compensation for all his suffer ings. The same parliament which refused its thanks to Marlborough, instituted an elaborate inquiry into the conduct of the war in Spain; which it summed up by pronouncing, through its official organ, the Period.] CHARLES, VISCOUNT TOWNSHEND. 14 1 lord-keeper, an extravagant eulogium on the gallantry and good con duct of the earl. Far be it from us to insinuate that the judgment at which parliament arrived was not a correct one. From the tone of this memoir' it will have been already discovered, that we regard Peter borough as by far the ablest officer employed in the Spanish war ; yet we must be permitted to observe, that commendation from a body which could even indirectly censure the military conduct of Marlborough, need not be rated at an extravagant value. The earl was, however, gratified by the compliment ; and became, in consequence, more and more the supporter of the court party, and the enemy of Godolphin and his friends. " One effect of the changes which occurred about this time in the constitution of the queen's cabinet, was to bring Peterborough again prominently forward into public life. We find him, for example, in 1711, in the capacity of ambassador at Turin, and other courts of Italy, whence he proceeded to Vienna, with the view of softening down certain differences which had arisen between the duke of Savoy and the em peror. He was eminently successful here; so much so, indeed, that not even the death of Joseph, and the uncertainty as to a successor which ensued, operated to hold back Victor Amadeus from taking the field in force. He was rewarded for his services on this occasion by being appointed colonel of the royal regiment of horse-guards, — a dig nity which was speedily followed by otliers neither less gratifying nor less coveted. During the year 1712, he was successively promoted to the rank of general of marines, and lord-lieutenant of the county of Northampton. This was followed by his nomination to the govern ment of Minorca, a post of profit but not of labour, while, on the 4th of August, 1713, the order ofthe Garter was bestowed upon him." After the death of Queen Anne, Peterborough retained his general ship of marines, but was in no wise taken notice of by the ministry. He endeavoured to banish ennui by-the company and correspondence of the leading wits of the day ; among whom he contrived to make a tolerably respectable figure, notwithstanding the deficiencies of his early education ; he also became a frequenter of green-rooms, and a dangler after the actresses and singers of the day. At last, worn out in body, and the victim of chagrin and intemperance united, he set out to seek the restoration of his health in a milder climate, but died, in his voyage to Lisbon, on the 25th of October, 1735. Charles, Ftsrount CoS»ns^nU. BORN A.D. 1674. DIED A.D. 1738. This eminent man, the eldest son of Horatio, first Viscount Towns hend, was born on the 1 Oth of March, 1674. He took his seat in the house of peers on attaining his majority, and became successively lord- lieutenant ofthe county of Norfolk, — a commissioner for treating of an union with Scotland, — captain-yeoman of Queen Anne'sguard, — a privy- counsellor,— and one ofthe plenipotentiaries for negotiating a peace with France in 1709. His colleague, on this occasion, was the duke of -Marlborough. In the following year Townshend, who had remained 142 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTK at the Hague, again entered into a negotiation for peace with the French government; but, as on the previous occasion, his labours proved abor tive. Queen Anne having dismissed her whig ministers, Townshend resigned his embassy, and, on his return to England, was deprived of his post as captain-yeoman of the guard, and censured by the house of commons, in which tory influence at that time predominated, for hav ing signed the preliminaries of the barrier-treaty, — a measure which materially increased his consequence with the whigs. He remained in disgrace at court during the remainder ofthe queen's reign. On the accession of George I., whose entire confidence Townshend had previously obtained, he was nominated one of the lords-justices to whom the government was confided until the king's arrival. On the 14th of September, 1714, he was made chief secretary of state, and took the lead in administration until the latter end of 1716, when the king's Hanoverian advisers having prejudiced the royal mind against him, he resigned his seals of office. In the following month he was appointed to the lord-lieutenancy of Ireland ; but having refused to go over to that kingdom, he was dismissed in the ensuing April. In June, 1720, he became president of the council, and was appointed one of the lords-justices during the king's visit to Hanover. Shortly after-i wards he resumed his office of chief secretary of state, and in May, 1723, accompanied George I. to his electorate. The death of Stanhope and the disgrace of Sunderland at length left Townshend, and his brother-in-law, Walpole, without any formidable competitors, and their political supremacy was for some time secured by the favour of the king and the approbation of his people. In July, 1724, Townshend was made a knight of the Garter. In 1727 he again accompanied George I. to the continent, and was present at that mon arch's decease. He continued in office after the accession of George IL, until May 1730, when, in consequence of various differences that had occurred between him and his coadjutor Walpole, he finally retired from the administration, and devoted himself, during the remainder of his life, to rural pursuits and dignified hospitality. He never revisited the ca pital after his secession from power, and died at Runham in 1738. Townshend is described as having been rude in manners, — sanguine, impetuous, overbearing, and impatient of contradiction, — inelegant in language, and often perplexed in argument, but a sensible orator, and always master of the subjects on which he spoke,— generous, disinter ested, of unblemished integrity, and perfect honour, — an able man of business, and, notwithstanding his despotic conduct in the cabinet, a kind master, ex. indulgent parent, an affectionate husband, and a faith ful friend. Burnet thus describes him at the period when he was ap pointed a plenipotentiary to negotiate peace with France : — " Lord Townshend had great parts, — had improved them by travelling, — and was by much the most shining person Of all our young nobility, and had, on many occasions, distinguished himself very eminently ; so he was a man of integrity and of good principles in all respects, — free from all vice, and of an engaging conversation." He was twice married ; first, in 1700, to Elizabeth, only child of Viscount Pelham by his first wife, who, after having born him five children, died in May, 1711 ; and secondly to Dorothy, the sister oi Period.] JOHN, DUKE OF ARGYLE AND GREENWICH. 143 Sir Robert Walpole, by whom he had six children, and whom he also survived. Mt arattlfam 3M£it*#am. BORN A. D. 1687. DIED A.D. 1740. This eminent statesman, chancellor ofthe exchequer in the reign of Queen Anne, was descended from an ancient Norfolk family, which possessed the lands of Wymondham in that county from a very early period. He was the grandson of Sir William Wyndham, on whom Charles II. conferred a baronetcy. He received his education at Eton, and at Christ-church, Oxford. On quitting the university he spent some years in foreign travel ; soon after his return to England he was chosen knight ofthe shire for Somerset, in which station he served in the three last parliaments of Queen Anne, and in all the subsequent parliaments, until her death. Soon after the change of ministry in 1710, Sir William was made se cretary at war. In August, 1713, he became chancellor of the exche quer. Upon the breach between the lord-high-treasurer and Boling broke in 1714, Sir William adhered to the interests of the latter. He endeavoured to attach himself to the Hanoverian party on the death of Anne, but Sir Richard Onslow supplanted him in the exchequer, and in the next parliament he appeared on the opposition side. He strenu ously defended the duke of Ormond and the earls of Oxford and Straf ford upon their impeachment ; and altogether acted in such a spirit of determined opposition to the existing administration, as to draw upon him the suspicion of being connected with the Stuart party. On the breaking out of Mar's rebellion in 1715, Sir William was apprehended and sent to the Tower, but he was afterwards set at liberty without a trial. After this period he still pursued his career of opposition, but upon broader and more general principles. He died in 1740. Pope, with whom he was very intimate, thus mentions him : — " Wyndham — just to freedom and the throne, The master of our passions and his own." Sir William was twice married : first to a daughter of the duke of Somerset, by whom he had a son, who afterwards became earl of Egre- mont; his second wife was the marquess of Blandford's widow. There can be no question that Sir William possessed very powerful abilities ; but his political integrity is not altogether free from suspicion. 3So|m, 3Bufte of ®ts&U anfo SttotH. BORN a. D. 1676. — DIED A. D. 1745. The earliest British statesman whose practical system of government may be said still to affect the politics of this country, and the man un der whom Britain acquired the characteristics of her present mercantile power, calls for more minute attention than can be often bestowed on the memoirs of men more illustrious for their genius or respected for their integrity. Robert Walpole was born in his paternal mansion at Houghton, ou the 26th of August, 1676. 1 He received the rudiments of education in a private seminary at Massingham in Norfolk, of the 1 Coxe's Memoirs of Sir Robert Walpole, vol. i. p. 3. All the facts in the present Memoir, not otherwise quoted, are derived from tlie voluminous collection of that labori ous historian. IV. T 146 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth master of which an anecdote has been recorded, which shows him not to have been aptly fitted to instil a towering ambition into the mind of the youthful statesman. During the long and brilliant period of Sir Robert's administration, the humble pedagogue remained as unobtrusive on the notice of his great pupil as he was unnoticed ; but when the mi nister fell, his early friend visited him in his retirement. " I knew that you were surrounded with so many petitioners craving preferment," he said, in answer to the natural interrogatories as to the cause of his long absence, " and that you had done so much for Norfolk people that I did not wish to intrude. But," continued the simple-minded man, " I al ways inquired how Robin went on, and was satisfied with your proceed ings." He continued his studies at Eton under Mr Newborough, but little of his early qualifications is handed down to us, excepting a predi lection for the works of Horace, and an innate talent for public speaking, which he is supposed to have possessed. On the 22d of April, 1696, he obtained a scholarship of King's-college, Cambridge, which, after having retained for two years, interrupted by severe illness, he resigned on the death of his elder brother in 1698. He appears for some time to have lived in family with his father, Sir Robert Walpole, a country- gentleman statesman, who lived retired from court, on an unburdened income of two thousand a year, occasionally repairing to the capital when his vote was wanted as one of the members for the borough of Castle-Rising, and spending the other portions of the time in rural jol lity and the care of his estate. The young statesman incurred the dan ger of being made as ' excellent a fellow ' as his father. The father, who had a very decorous dislike at appearing drunk before his son, used to remark during their convivial evenings, " Come, Robert, you shall drink twice while I drink once, for I will not permit the son in his sober senses to be witness to the intoxication of his father." On the 30th of July, 1700, Robert married Catherine, daughter of Sir John Shorter, lord-mayor of London,2 and by his father's death in the following November, he inherited the paternal estate. During the two last years of the reign of King William, he commenced his political career by sitting as member for Castle- Rising, a borough, of which the two seats, along with one for Lynn-Regis, constituted the extensive electoral interest of his family. He immediately resumed his seat on the accession cf Anne, and although he made no attempt at sudden dis tinction, he gradually assumed importance, and became a much trusted adherent ofthe zealous friends to the protestant succession. He seconded the motion of Sir Charles Hedges for extending the compulsory appli cation "of the oath of abjuration to all ecclesiastics and members of the universities, and made a motion (which was negatived,) to resume all grants during the reign of King James, as an extension of a resolution to apply all those granted during the reign of King William to the ser vice of the public. When Godolphin, in 1705, found it expedient to support his ministry on whig principles, Walpole's political zeal was re warded by an appointment as one of the council to Prince George of Denmark ; and when the ministers achieved a victory over the favourites of the queen, by the dismissal bf her tory friends, in 1708, he was ad vanced to the important situation of the secretaryship at war, in place * The individual who was chosen lord-mayor by James II. Period.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 147 ' of Henry St John, and as a zealous and powerful friend of the whigs, was appointed one of the managers of the impeachment of Sacheverell. In the performance of this delicate duty, his speeches are said to have borne more the aspect of philosophical candour than of party rancour, but he is known to have been the author of a pamphlet denouncing those who favoured Sacheverell as the abettors of the pretender.3 In the words of one of his adversaries, he was looked upon as " one of the whigs' chief speakers,"4 when he was involved in the fall of his friends in 1710. The tories, not at union with themselves, would undoubtedly have found the talents of this rising statesman useful to their cause ; and there is every reason to believe that they made him offers, which he had sufficient firmness to reject. On the 21st of December, 1711, he was accused before the house of commons of corruption, having in two forage-contracts in Scotland re ceived two notes of hand, the one for five hundred guineas, the other for five hundred pounds ; the offence was considered proved, and he was by small majorities expelled the house and committed to the Tower. In confinement he published a pamphlet in his own defence, showing, that the person who really profited by the transaction was his friend, Mr Mann, who had agreed to receive the sums in question as a consi deration for giving up to the other contractors a share in the transac tion, (amounting to a fifth part,) which had been reserved by Walpole in terms of the original agreement, for the advantage of any friend he might name; while the notes had been accidentally drawn in his own name instead of that of his friend. Few will doubt that party-feeling exceeded the love of justice in prompting the prosecution ; while it must be admitted, that presuming Walpole not to have profited by the transaction, he at least showed that negligence towards the honest ap plication of the public funds which afforded the firmest handle to his opponents during his administration. When released at the termination of the session, he vigorously aided the opposition, and for a period injured his private fortune by a magni ficent display of hospitality to those who might assist bim in the return of his party to power, and in obtaining information for the purposes of attack. It may perhaps be worthy of being mentioned, that at the pe riod of the rupture between Oxford and Bolingbroke, Walpole, with a few other leading whigs, appears to have countenanced some advances on the part of the latter, the extent of which it is difficult to determine.5 On the formation of the new ministry after the arrival of the king, Walpole was appointed paymaster of the forces, and several of his friends were provided with subordinate situations. He was appointed chairman ofthe committee of secrecy for examining the conduct ofthe former administration, and he showed himself the active leader of the transaction, not as an investigator, but a prosecutor ; he was the man who impeached Bolingbroke of high treason and other crimes and misde meanors. On the 11th of October, 1715, he was rewarded for his 3 Four Letters to a Friend in Scotland upon Sacheverell's Trial, — " Falsely attributed to Mr Maynwaring, who did not write them, though he sometimes revised Mr Walpole's pamphlets." — Horace Walpole's Catalogue of his father's pamphlets, Works, vol. i. p. 447. 4 Swift's Works, (Scott's edition,) vol. ii. p. 437. s Swift's Works, vol. xvi. p. 195. On the day on which Lord Oxford resigned, Wal- polu, along with Stanhope, Craggs, and Pulteney, dined with Bolingbroke. 148 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth active zeal by being appointed first lord of the treasury and chancellor of the exchequer, in the cabinet ostensibly led by his brother-in-law and early friend, Viscount Townshend. A severe illness followed his ele vation, and the prosecution of the rebels, a task in which he had labori ously aided. In the interval of his absence the septennial bill was introduced into parliament ; an act which has justly been looked on as 'one of the measures of his government, from his assistance in its preparation previous to his illness, and which is certainly strik ingly characteristic of an administration which turned all its measures not on general principles of policy, but on the means of fortifying their party. On the visit of the king to his native country, the earl of Sun derland, assisted by Sir William Wyndham, a tory, but the friend of Townshend and Walpole, began to rise in personal influence with the monarch, and the tories viewed with pleasure and expectation the bal ance almost equally held between two parties among their enemies.6 Townshend, when the power of his new opponents was fully established, quickly exchanged his premiership for the lordrlieutenancy of Ireland.' Walpole, who might have remained ostensible head of the administra tion, preferred being powerful in opposition to being weak in the cabi net. On the 10th of March, 1717, he called on the king to deliver up the seals of office : his majesty, anxious to retain so useful a friend, is said to have thrown them into the minister's hat, and to have familiarly re turned them ten times before he would finally accept the resignation. After his resignation, Walpole brought before the house, as ' a coun try gentleman,' a plan for reducing the national debt by means of a sinking fund, a measure which deserves notice as having affected latter ages. A sinking fund has lately been shown to be mere borrowing from one to pay to another, and therefore in principle fallacious ; but the very ignorance of its real power gave it in the hands of Walpole two beneficial practical effects. First, the debts of government were calcu lated at an average to bear seven per cent, interest, while a sinking fund could be borrowed at four ; and secondly, the promised advantages of the system raised the credit of government securities, and enabled the nation to dictate terms to creditors not anxious for immediate repay ment.. There is reason to believe that the acuteness of Walpole after wards pointed out to him fallacies in the system which he did not think fit to acknowledge.7 In 1733, in despite of a powerful and watchful opposition, he took from the sinking fund half a million for the current services, an act which Coxe and others have looked upon as the chief blot in his administration. " On this occasion," says his biographer, "he advanced this remarkable position, that the situation of the coun try, and the case of the public creditors, was altered so much since the establishment of the sinking fund, that the competition among them was not who should be the first, but who should be the last to be paid ; an assertion which none of the opposition ventured to contradict, and therefore may be considered as true." The minister may have hesitated to add, that since promulgating the scheme, he had found reason tp doubt the supposed omnipotence of compound interest, on whicli it was founded. Walpole, on resigning, made a candid declaration that he c Swift's Works, vol. xvi. p. 302. ' Vide Hamilton on the National Debt, p. 97, &c. Period.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 149 would not impede the measures of a whig government ; but either his passions or his interest forbade him to preserve his resolution, and he counteracted their measures in the purest spirit of ' an opposition ;' but among other such acts, it must be recorded to his honour, that he op posed the bill, patronised by the king from a jealousy to his son, for li- miting.the number of peers and making Britain an aristocracy. . When it was proposed to sell the irredeemable annuities to the South sea society, Walpole was one of those few members who had presence of mind sufficient to maintain that offers should be accepted from the otlier trading companies before the dazzling measure was adopted, and he finally objected to treating with the South sea company in preference to the bank, from the former body being unlimited in the price of their stock. In the meantime, finding either that his foresight and opposition were dangerous enemies to their measures, or that he might be a useful aid, the ministry, on the 6th of May, 1720, restored him to his old post of paymaster of the forces. On the sudden fall of the price of stock, and the consequent dread of a national bankruptcy, Walpole was appealed to by the nation and the monarch as the only man capable of restoring confidence; and on his announcing a plan for the adjustment of the claims,' stock rose to a price somewhat beyond its natural value, though far beneath that at which the insane avarice of the nation had previously ranked it. An attempt, without the sanc tion of legislative authority, to retrieve the credit of the company, by the bank agreeing to circulate a specified amount of the company's bonds for one year, having failed, (the bank resiling from the contract on the ground that the minute was deficient in legal formalities,) Wal pole secured the adoption of his proposals by a legislative act, which sanctioned an agreement unwillingly entered into by the bank and the East India company, to iirgraft with their own a portion of the stock of the South sea company. The suggestion of this plan was owing to Jacombe, under-secretary at war, and in the excitement which the house of commons suffered on the subject, it required all the tact and influence of Walpole to put it in practice. The projectors of the scheme, and the ministers who fostered it, were the opponents of Wal pole, and he displayed the moderation or the foresight of his disposition in shielding them from the popular rage which doomed them to destruc tion. With some temporary sacrifice of popularity, he obtained the acquittal of Sunderland, on whose ruin he afterwards rose ; and he was presently replaced, with his brother-in-law, at the head of the cabinet. On the discovery of the machinations of the Jacobites in 1722, he had an opportunity of showing his moderation, when a leader of the councils, by merely giving additional protection to the Hanoverian dy nasty, and driving from the country the factious priest who had lent the aid of his great talents to the conspiracy. Of the opposition over which Walpole had triumphed at the fall of the South sea scheme a remnant remained, from which arose a powerful and vigilant body of oppo nents who' never permitted him to perform a ministerial act uncan- vassed, and after the most protracted and bitter warfare ever known in political history, finally drove him from the helm. Carteret, who con sidered himself as the successor to the fallen interest of Sunderland and Stanhope, divided the cabinet against Walpole and Townshend; but '50 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth after a first unsuccessful attempt, through the influence of the mis tresses of the king and the Hanoverian favourites, he sunk before their superior influence. Walpole, now in the height of his influence, hav ing previously declined a peerage, which was bestowed on his son, was, just after the termination of the parliament in 1724, created a knight of the order of the bath, and in 1726 he was installed a knight of the garter, an ornament which had before been only conferred on one com. moner. With some inconsistency, Walpole encouraged the return of Bolingbroke in 1725, and moved for the repeal of the bill of attainder which he had himself brought in in 1716. Whatever were his expec tations from this measure he was disappointed ; the brilliant Jacobite, chagrined at not being restored to the influence and rank of his lost peerage, became fretful and turbulent, — he joined in intrigues against the ministers, which they had power just sufficient to1 overcome, — and uniting the honesty he could assume, with that which was possessed by his coadjutor, Schippen, headed a party, which, without much prospect of overcoming -without the aid of a rebellion, was still powerful enough to sting. In the meantime danger was threatened to Walpole from a more dis tant quarter, which he dexterously parried. A new coinage of half pence was requisite for Ireland, and the necessities ofthe province were made the medium of conferring a favour on the friend of a royal mis tress. William Wood, a miner and proprietor of. iron-works, obtained a patent to coin halfpence and farthings to the extent of £100,000 ster ling. There is no doubt that the patentee would have performed the contract with honesty ; but the national pride was roused at the kingly right over it as a conquered nation being put into the hands of a me chanic; and Swift, in the renowned ' D rapier's Letters,' roused the na tion against the insult by representing the halfpence as deficient in value, turning gradually, after he had thus roused the feelings of the common people, to the real cause of grievance, the putting into the hands of foreigners- the exercise of every description of influence in Ireland. The underlings of the government threatened in the name of their leader ; but Swift shows a disposition to be courteous to Wal pole, and allows so powerful a man to avoid the consequences, by per sonally acquitting him of connection with the act.8 Walpole appears to have understood the hint, for he was not a man who would brave a nation for the defence of a dependant on his ministry. He approached the abolition of the patent by degrees, reducing the issue to £40,000, and finally contrived to send his rival Carteret, who had watched with pleasure the fomenting of disturbances, which might shake the stability of the minister, to settle the matter as lord-lieutenant of Ireland.9 The good opinion of Swift towards Walpole was of short continuance ; he had an interview with him, of which he has left a full account,10 in which he endeavoured to lay before him the injustice and folly of treat ing Ireland in every respect as a conquered kingdom. The information was coldly and haughtily received, — a circumstance which has been accounted for on the authority of Sir Edward Walpole, by the minis- 8 Drapier's Letters, No. 4. • Scott's Life of Swift, p. 295. 10 See a Letter to the Earl of Peterborough, Works, chap. xvii. p. 67. Period.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 151 ters having intercepted a letter of the dean to Dr Arbuthnot, mention ing the means he was to use for gaining his end, and observing that he knew " no flattery was too gross for Walpole." u The treaty of Vienna, supposed to have been so dangerous to the peace of Britain, involved Townshend and Walpole in much odium from the opposition ; but the burden chiefly fell on the former, who better understood, and generally managed the foreign department. But a greater danger threatened the stability of Walpole's ascendancy from the death of George the First. As that monarch's prime minister, he was compelled to oppose the prince, and is said to have volunteered some expressions of contempt towards him, which were duly retailed and exaggerated. For several days in the opening of the new reign, he incurred the neglect of a discharged minister. But his powers in supporting a civil list were known to the king, and he had obtained a firm friend in the person of the queen, to whom, among his other means of recommending himself, it must not be forgot that he offered a jointure of £100,000 a-year, while his rival, Sir Spencer Compton, could not venture to offer more than £60,000. Sir Spencer yielded the post to the superior powers of his rival, and Walpole was once more at the head of the treasury. From the accession of George the Second, Walpole, from his personal influence at court, was virtually the sole prime minister, and the power of Townshend gradually decreasing, jealousies and contentions originated between the two brothers. An unministerial scene which took place during a dinner party at the house of Colonel Selwyn — in which a remark by Walpole, hinting a distrust of the sincerity of Townshend, roused that fiery nobleman to a threat of personal violence — finally terminated their intercourse. Townshend left the cabinet with an honour almost unsullied, and never condescended to indulge in opposition. From the period when Walpole ruled the cabinet to his resignation, his acts are so entirely the events of history, and so well known as leading features of the times, that a brief bio graphical notice can only glance at such as are most broadly shaded by his personal character, and the principles with which he governed. In 1733 he formed the celebrated plan of extending the method of collect- 'ing revenue by excise, to the duties on wine and tobacco. Sir William Wyndham, and Pulteney, who, by his vast wealth and his talents as a party-debater, now stood foremost and greatest in the opposition, be came aware of his views, and sounded the trumpet of alarm through the land ; the various speakers of the opposition obscurely hinted at a plan devised, and about to be produced, for the secret destruction of British liberty, and Walpole was compelled to divulge his plan before he was prepared to attempt a legislative measure on its principles. The great leading causes for the alteration he maintained to be the partiality of the existent system, the opportunities of evasion, and the necessary venality of the public officers. The whole oratory of the opposition was thundered forth in denunciation ofthe scheme, — the clamours with out were loud and ominous,—and it was finally dropped : the minister, for the purpose of keeping himself in office, making a practical admis sion of the great principle, that even a system which the propounders of it may consider unexceptionably excellent, must not be enforced 11 Letters and Miscellaneous Papers of Barre Charles Kobert6, pp. 20, 21. 152 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth against the general voice of a people. Along with the financial mea sure, one wliich can more unhesitatingly be pronounced salutary to the commercial interests of the country, was lost for a period — the system of bonding imported goods for payment of the duties ; and in the full enjoyment of this great facility to commerce, the British public have at this day to thank Sir Robert Walpole for the best gift he has left to posterity. It was generally the object of the opposition to propose.mo- tions, the rejection of which would involve the minister in odium or unpopularity, — and in admitting or opposing them, the minister had to choose whichever side was most conducive to the government in being, and at the same time sure of a majority. " It will be advisable," says a memorandum by one who bitterly opposed the minister, "to propose easy whig points, — to bring off honest well-meaning people, — and ren der others inexcusable, such as a reasonable placerbill to exclude those of lower ranks in the treasury and revenue, such as clerks, &c. from sit ting in the house of commons. A bill to make the officers ofthe army for life, or quamdiu se bene gesserint, or broke by a council of war.18 . These patriotic principles were diligently pursued and opposed in a corresponding spirit. To have admitted either the place or the pension- bill to pass, would have struck a deadly blow at that system of influ ence which Walpole had so adroitly framed to succeed the arbitrary power of the crown. The pension-bill passed the commons in 1730, but was thrown out by the lords ; and the minister finding such a plan likely to save a share ofhis popularity, the place-bill, when introduced in a later period of his administration, " was not opposed, because out of decency it is generally suffered to pass the commons, but is thrown out in the lords." " The attempt to deprive government of the power of dismissing officers in the army he likewise resisted, for he had made use ofthe power, and had not hesitated to discharge those who opposed him. To the repeal of the test act — a measure attempted not only by the opposition whigs, but in the very purest spirit of party, and by the tories also — he appears to have had no other objection but the danger of offending the church, and is said to have been personally partial to the measure. He was in the habit of telling the dissenters, that whatever were his private inclinations on the matter, the attempt was improper, and the time was not yet arrived. " You have so repeat edly returned this answer," replied Dr Chandler, principal of a depu tation of the dissenters, " that I trust you will give me leave to ask you when the time will come ?" " If you require a specific answer," said the minister, " I will give it you in a word, — never." His inge nuity enabled him, however, by the annual act of indemnity, to save the dissenters from oppression, and to preserve the church of England from a dangerous odium, while its supremacy was fully admitted. At length, after baffled efforts and repeated disappointments, the op position began gradually to undermine the great power so long assailed in vain. The death of Queen Caroline, in 1737, struck the first sure blow at Walpole's influence, and the enmity ofthe prince regent served as a marked rallying point to his opponents. In 1738, when the alleged outrages ofthe Spaniards on British ships roused the popular feeling of " Memorandum in the handwriting of Alexander, Earl of Marchmont Marchmont Papers, vol. ii. p. 14. 13 Horace Walpole lo Horace Mann. Period.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 153 the country, and the opposition loudly joined in their cry for war, Walpole — whose great, but too little commended, merit was the desire of peace — resisted hostilities, and attempted negotiations which failed, With a divided cabinet he at last consented to a war, which simply kept him in place. All allow that at that period he would have spared his fame by resigning. On the 15th of Februar3*, 1741, Sandys prefaced with a long and plausible speech, a motion for an address to remove the minister. All the power of both sides was employed in the debate. The motion was lost by a large majority, but it effectually shook the minister's stability. With all the influence ofthe crown and ofhis own wealth, both of which he unhesitatingly used, the next elections were unfavourable. Questions, as to controverted elections, which were then not of law but of party, were decided in favour of the opposition. On the 9th of February, 1742, he was created earl of Orford, and on the 11th he resigned. On the motion of Lord Limerick, a secret commit tee was appointed to examine into the last ten years of his ministry. He was accused of having made use of the secret service-money in in fluencing elections. The persons through whose hands the money passed refused to answer questions, and a bill of indemnity was thrown out in the lords, so that the accusation must be considered as ' not proved.' He was accused of influencing the elections by the patronage of gov ernment, and certain distinct acts were adduced, which liis biographer has been pleased to term " petty abuses of power." He was accused of having enriched himself at the public expense. His biographer maintains, and his son solemnly assures us,14 that the vast sums he spent were derived entirely from his paternal estate, his salary as paymaster, and a fortunate speculation in the South sea funds. The accusations against him were pursued no farther than an inquiry. Sir Robert was privately consulted by the king for some time after his resignation, and he had influence sufficient to perplex the new ministers, and to baffle his an cient enemy Pulteney. But he gradually ceased to be useful even for such services as these. His resignation was not the retirement of the high-minded statesman, who would not yield to his opponents ; he stuck to office until his hands lost their hold with feebleness. The conscious ness of fallen greatness, and the loss of his long-accustomed labours, preyed upon his mind, and disease made ravages on his body. When the cares of Europe were upon his shoulders he slept soundly ; but now he was watchful and restless. In his letters to Sir Horace Mann, his son frequently paints a melancholy picture of his state. " I cannot say I think he will preserve his life long, as he has laid aside all exercise, which has been of such vast service to him. He talked the other day of shutting himself up in the farthest wing of Houghton. I said, my dear lord, you will be at a distance from all the family there; he replied, ' so much the better.' Speaking of Smitsart, the Dutch general, who said ' he was too old to be hanged ;' ' this reply,' he continues, ' was told to my father yesterday ; ay,' said he, ' so I thought I was ; but I may live to be mistaken.' "16 Sir Robert Walpole died on the 18th of March, 1745, in the 69th year of his age. The character of his administration cannot be better or more briefly told than in the words of Hume : — " His ministry has 11 Nicliol's Literary Anecdotes. u Vol. ii. pp. 14, 18. IV. V *"'-'* POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth been more advantageous for his family than to the public,— better for this age than for posterity,— and more pernicious for bad precedents than real grievances." ¦- $am*8, IBufce of $nnono\ BORN A.D. 1665.— DIED A.D. 1745. James, son of Thomas, earl Of Ossory, and grandson of James, twelfth earl and first duke of Ormond, was born on the 29th of April* 1665. He succeeded to the dukedom on the death of his grandfather, in 1688. He was actively concerned in bringing about the Revolu tion, and fought with great gallantry at the battle of the Boyne. He subsequently obtained the command of a body of troops, destined to secure the quiet of Dublin; and, during the campaign of 1693, he served as one of the king's aides-de-camp at the battle of Landen, where he was severely wounded. He had now become a great favourite with William III., whose confidence he enjoyed during the remainder of that. monarch's life. On the accession of Queen Anne, he lost none of his influence at court. In 1702 he was appointed, jointly with Admiral Rooke, to the command ofthe forces sent out against Cadiz and Vigo. His conduct in this expedition won for him the thanks of both houses of parliament, ahd rendered him for a time mUch more popular than his colleague in command. In 1703 he was appointed lord-lieutenant of Ireland. Hav ing adopted the views of his predecessor, his measures soon rendered him generally unpopular in that country. The Irish parliament, with which he was on very bad terms, severely annoyed him; by ordering an inspection of the public accounts ; — " for," says Burnet, " though he was generous, and above all sordid practices himself, yet, being a man of pleasure, he was much in the power of those who acted under him, and whose integrity was not so clear." In 1705 he is said to have fomented the divisions between the pro testants and catholics, and to have rendered himself deservedly ob noxious to both parties. During the latter part of his vicegerency, which continued until 171 J, he appears to have not only favoured the high church party, but to have laid himself open to a suspicion of en couraging the adherents of James Frederick. At the termination of his vicegerency — in which, notwithstanding the general obnoxious char acter of his measures, he had displayed some redeeming good qualities, that rendered him occasionally, or rather locally popular — he joined in the parliamentary clamour against the duke of Marlborough. He was soon afterwards appointed commander-ih-chief of all the forces in Great Britain; and, in April, 1712, was sent out to succeed the hero of Blen heim, as captain-general of the army in Flanders. His conduct in this command was singularly unprincipled. He received positive orders from the queen not to hazard a battle, yet he assured the Dutch au thorities that it was his intention to prosecute the war with all the vig our in his power; but, on a favourable opportunity to attack the enemy , '• Character of Sir Robert Walpole, vol, iii. p. 30. Period.] JAMES, DUKE OF ORMOND. 155 occurring, he not only refused to march towards them, but declared that he would abandon the allies unless they consented to a cessation of arms. This conduct, while it greatly incensed the confederates, was secretly agreeable to Queen Anne ; by whom, on his return to Eng land, the duke was received in a very flattering manner. He continued to be a great favourite with the multitude, and, about this period, in creased the sphere ofhis popularity by zealously encouraging literature and the arts. In June, 1713, he was appointed governor of Dover- castle and warden of the cinque-ports ; and in addition to these valu- ,:*ble sinecures, he obtained a grant of £5000 per annum for fifteen years out ofthe Irish revenue. The more auspicious part ofthe duke's career terminated on the death of Queen Anne. The new monarch refused to admit him to the privy chamber, and dismissed him from his post as captain-general of the forces ; but a pitiful attempt was subsequently made to allay his resent ment, by appointing him a member ofthe Irish privy pouncil, and giv ing him an invitation to make his appearance at court. He was still the darling of the mob. On his birth-day, in 1715, the streets of the metropolis were thronged by large bodies ofhis admirers, who severely assaulted all such as refused to join in their shouts of " Ormond for ever !" On the 28th of May, in the same year, riots of a more alarm ing character took place ; the populace, on this occasion, mixing reli gion with politics, vociferated, " High church and Ormond !". It was supposed that these disorderly acts were secretly encouraged by the duke: threats of an impeachment were, consequently, held out to him by ministers ; but blind to the probable consequences of his folly, he continued to render himself offensive to government, until, at length, the menaces which he had despised were actually carried into effect. The turbulence of his spirit, and his greediness for applause, led him to commit a number of absurdities, for which the moderate portion of his friends in vain endeavoured to excuse him. About the middle of June the following advertisement appeared in the public prints, with out the least foundation, it is suspected, for the purpose of exciting the feelings of the populace in his favour : — " On Tuesday the 7th instant, her Grace, the dutchess of Ormond, on her return from Richmond, was stopped in her coach by three persons in disguise, well-armed and mounted, who asked if the duke was in the coach, and seemed to have a design on his life ; and it has been observed, that many armed per sons lurk about in the Richmond road, both day and night, no doubt with a view to assassinate him." On the 21st of June, after a debate of nine hours' duration, in which several of his friends spoke warmly in his favour, he was impeached by a majority of forty-seven. On the 5th of August, articles of impeachment were exhibited against him, for having treacherously neglected to fight the enemies of England, while he was captain-general of the forces in Flanders, &c. Being conse quently attainted of high treason, his name was erased from the list of peers. On the 12th of November, in the same year, the Irish parlia ment not only attainted him, but offered a reward of £10,000 for his !.ead. It appears that he felt desirous of personally engaging in the rebel lion of 1715, having actually embarked for England on receiving intel ligence of the insurrection, and hovered for several days about the 156 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixrrt coast, but without being able to effect a landing. In 1716-17 he made an unsuccessful attempt to induce the king of Sweden — who had affected great consideration for the pretender — to invade England with an army of Swedes. In 1718-19 the Spanish government determined on mak ing an attempt to place James Frederick on the British throne. An armament, consisting of ten sail of the line, and numerous transports, with six thousand regular troops, and twelve thousand stand of arms for the pretender's English and Scotch adherents, was accordingly fitted out at Cadiz, and placed under the duke of Ormond's command. Ru mours of the intended invasion having reached this country, the house of commons addressed the king to offer a reward of £5000 for the duke's apprehension. The Jacobites eagerly prepared for his landing; and great alarm appears to have prevailed among the more loyal classes of his majesty's subjects. But the expedition was unsuccessful. Many of the transports drifted ashore and went to pieces, — most of the troops were rendered unserviceable, — and the duke, after having narrowly escaped shipwreck, was compelled to return to Cadiz without having seen an enemy, but utterly discomfited by the elements. In 1722 a Jacobite, named Layer, was executed for having partly, it is said, at the instigation of Ormond, attempted to enlist a body of re cruits for the service of the pretender in Essex. In 1 726 the duke appears to have made some fruitless efforts to engage the Spanish gov ernment in a new project for the invasion of this county. From this period he gradually dwindled in importance. He spent the remainder ofhis life chiefly at Avignon, in melancholy indolence, wholly subsist- i ing on a pension from Spain of 2000 pistoles per annum. His death took place on the 16th of November, in the memorable year 1745. The duke married at rather an early period of his public career ; but he left no children by his wife, for whom, although they lived upon to lerable terms, he appears to have entertained but very little affection. He was principally indebted for that importance which he so long en joyed to his rank and connexions. His abilities were good, but not splendid ; — his morals in private life, and his principles as a public char acter, were equally lax, — his judgment was evidently weak, and his vanity contemptible. He has been praised for his fidelity to the pre- . tender ; but it does not appear that he ever received any temptation to be treacherous to James Frederick, or that he could have bettered him- f-elf by abandoning the Jacobite cause. So0w, <£atl of ^tatt\ BORN A. D. 1673. DIED A. D. 1747. This celebrated general and accomplished statesman was the eldest son of John Dalrymple, created, for his services at the Revolution, first viscount, and afterwards earl of Stair. His mother was Lady Elizabeth Dundas, daughter of Sir John Dundas of Newliston. He was early sent to the college of Edinburgh under a guardian, and had run through the whole course of his studies at (he fourteenth year of his age. He was designed by his father for the law ; but his passion for the military Hfe was unconquerable. He left Edinburgh in 1687, and went over to Period.] JOHN, EARL OF STAIR. 157 Holland, where he passed through the first military giadations under the eye of the prince of Orange. About this time he learned the French, Spanish, German, Italian, and Dutch languages, all of whicli he spoke with great purity. At the Revolution he came over to Scotland, where he performed the most substantial services for the prince of Orange. He was amongst the first to declare for King William ; and went up with his father to London to pay his homage to the deliverer, by whom he was most gra ciously received. He attended the king to Ireland, and also accom panied him to Holland, in the beginning ofthe year 1691. Upon this occasion his majesty conferred a colonel's commission upon Mr Dal rymple. In this capacity he served under his great commander at the battle of Steenkirk, fought on the 3d of August, 1692. No British officer signalized himself more in this engagement than Colonel Dal rymple. He several times rallied his regiment when the ranks were broken by the cannon, and brought them back to the charge, and was instrumental in saving many of the troops from being cut in pieces, as he stopped the pursuit till they could rally and renew the attack. From this time to the year 1702, we have no accounts of Colonel Dalrymple ; but, in the campaign of that year, we find him taking a vigorous part in the expulsion of the French from Spanish Guelderland. Marlborough honoured Colonel Dalrymple with his particular notice, though, by national prejudice, not very fond of encouraging Scotsmen. The duke promoted our hero to be colonel of the Royal North British dragoons. At the assault on the citadel of Venloo, when the fort of Chartreuse was taken by the allies, Colonel Dalrymple had the happi- . ness to save the life of the prince of Hesse-Cassel, afterwards king of Sweden, who, in wresting the colours from a French officer, was upon the point of being cut down by a grenadier, when Dalrymple shot the assailant dead upon the spot with bis pistol. He subsequently became aid-de-camp to Marlborough ; and, after the battle of Hockstet, was appointed colonel of the Scotch Greys. When the success ofthe British arms in Flanders obliged Louis XIV. to sue for peace, and the duke of Marlborough had returned home in March, 1709, he took occasion to introduce Colonel Dalrymple to her majesty, as an officer who had performed the most signal services in the campaign in the Low Countries. Soon after this he succeeded to the title of Earl of Stair by the death of his father ; and the queen, as a reward for his military conduct, and as a first essay of his political abilities, was pleased to appoint him her ambassador-extraordinary to Augustus II., king of Poland. The success of this negotiation was owing, in a great measure, to the amiable qualities ofthe earl of Stair, by which he gained the entire confidence and esteem of the king of Poland, who entered heartily into all the measures of the allies. His lordship remained four years at the Polish court ; in which time be formed an intimate acquaintance with most of the foreign ambassadors, and framed to himself a clear idea of the interests of the several courts in the north. He is thought by some to have been the first, who, by means of the duke of Marlborough, projected the renunciation of Bre men and Verden, on the part of the king of Denmark, in favour of George I. He was called home in 1713- -when he was stripped off all his em- 158 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth ployments. Having lived very splendidly at Warsaw, he had con tracted debts, which at that time lay heavy upon him. His plate and equipage would have been arrested, if one Mr Lawson, who had been a lieutenant in a Cameronian regiment, had not generously lent hinj the sum of £1800. It is hard to say whether Mr Lawson's friendship, or the earl of Stair's gratitude ever after, was most to be admired, He did not remain long in retirement, for, upon the accession of George I., he was received into favour; and, on the 28th of October, 1714, was appointed one of the lords of the bed-chamber ; the next day he was sworn one of the privy-council, and, in November, was made comman der-in-chief of his majesty's forces in Scotland. The scene now changed in favour of the duke of Marlborough, whose friends were, for the most part, chosen to represent the counties and boroughs in the parliament that was summoned to meet-on the 17th of March, 1715. In Scotland the opposers ofthe former ministry pre vailed, and the earl of Stair was ejected one of the sixteen peers to sit in the first septennial parliament. Ambassadors were now sent to the several courts in Europe to notify the king's accession ; and, as the French court was both the most splendid and most intriguing, it was requisite to fix upon an ambassador of address and deep penetration The person thought of by the duke of Marlborough and by the king himself, was Lord Stair, who was intrusted with discretionary powers. He set out for Paris in January, 1715, and, in a few days after, en tered that capital in so splendid a manner, that the proud old monarch j considered it as an insult offered to him in his own capital, that a petty, | prince, whom, only a few months before, he had entertained hopes of'| depriving of even his electoral title and dominions in Germany, should, upon his ascending a throne so unexpectedly, authorise his ambassador^ to make a more "splendid appearance than the minister of any potentate had ever done before at Paris. Stair was not many days in Paris, however, before an opportunity offered of confirming his royal master in the good opinion he had formed of him. By the ninth article of the treaty of Utrecht, it was expressly stipu lated that the harbour of Dunkirk should be filled up, and that the dykes which form the canal and moles should be destroyed. There had been a pretended execution of this article, but nothing like fulfilling of the treaty, and the king had ordered a haven and canal to be made at Mardyke, of much greater extent than those of Dunkirk itself. Mr Prior, the former ambassador, had complained of this, and insist ed that the treaty should be fulfilled ; but an answer full of the most evasive arguments had been given. As the matter still continued open, the earl of Stair laid a clear representation of the case before the French ministr}', and with uncommon address and vigilance got to the bottom of the secret machinations of the French court, and transmitted home such early and exact intelligence concerning the intended inva sion, that the pretender's enterprise failed, and a great number of his abettors in England were taken into custody. Various stories are told concerning the methods made use of by the earl of Stair to procure tuch important secret intelligence, most of them calculated to amuse the reader by agreeable fictions at the expense of historical truth. The real fact, as it stands authenticated on record, is, that the earl of Stair was master of the most insinuating address, and knew how to apply a Period.] JOHN, EARL OF STAIR. 159 bribe properly. By the influence of both, he gained over an English Roman Catholic priest, named Strickland, who was one of the preten der's chaplains, and his chief confidant. By means of this spy, Lord Stair knew every project formed in the pretender's council ; and from the same quarter he obtained a list of the French officers who had engaged to accompany him to Scotland, with an exact account of the quantity of arms, ammunition, and provisions, to be furnished by the French ministry. Stair at the same time made such strong representations to the regent, that his royal highness saw that to remove all suspicions, and preserve the friendship of Great Britain, to which he was strongly inclined, he must be obliged to alter his policy : he therefore answered, " That he would forbid the exportation of any arms or ammunition out of the kingdom, and that he should send such orders to all the ports in France, as his Britannic majesty desired ; together with proper instruc tions to the captains of such vessels as were bound for any part of Scotland." The success of this negotiation contributed greatly to the suppression of tbe rebellion ; for, when the insurgents found themselves deprived of the powerful succours they had been promised from France, their courage failed them, and they began to disperse. No sooner did the news of this reach the earl of Stair, than he repaired to the regent, and completely put an end to the pretender's hopes by reducing the regent to the necessity of declaring himself once for all. There was no medium ; he must either satisfy Great Britain by refusing the pretender a retreat in France, or absolutely break with a prince whose friendship might be of service to him, for the sake of a guest '¦'ho was both use less to him and his friends, and troublesome to those who protected him. By the advice of the Abbe" du Bois, he therefore gave the earl of Stair a most explicit and satisfactory answer, after having acquainted the pretender with his resolution, who immediately retired to Avignon. A good understanding was now established between the courts of Ver sailles and London, highly agreeable to the latter, as it gave the new sovereign an opportunity of inspecting and regulating the domestic ad ministration of government. The earl of Stair's conduct upon this oc casion gained him the esteem of the duke of Orleans, now declared regent during the minority of Louis XV. But neither adulations nor civilities could put him off his guard, or relax his attention to the in terests of his royal master, as the following anecdote testifies. One day, the regent, attended by a splendid retinue, went in his coach to pay the earl a visit. The coach halted at the gate of the ambassador's hotel, but when the earl of Stair descended from his apartment, the regent only partly alighted from his coach, setting one foot on the ground and keeping the other fixed on the step. The earl, ih the meantime, was advancing towards the gate ; but observing the posture the regent was in, he stopped short, turned about, walked three or four times backward and forward, and at last asked one ofthe atten dants, " Whether his royal highness was come to visit him as his Bri tannic majesty's ambassador, or as earl of Stair ? " To which receiving no answer, he added, " If he comes to see Lord Stair, I shall reckon it my greatest honour to receive any one officer of the crown, much more the duke-regent, at the door of his coach ; but if he comes to visit the ambassador of my august and royal master, I think I should be un worthy the trust reposed in me, if I went farther than I have done." 160 political'series. [Sixth This being told the regent, he re-entered his coach, and afterwards caused it to be notified to his excellency, that he was not desirous of seeing him at court ; and, for some months, Stair actually withdrew ; till, hearing ofthe regent's fitting out a strong squadron at Toulon, which the court of Britain could not look on with indifference, he went to court, and brought about an interview with the regent in the following manner. The guards knowing him, declared they had orders to refuse him admittance. - " Oh I" says he, " though the British ambassador be debarred access, yet Lord Stair is not." On this he was allowed to enter, and having passed the first guard he hastened through the otliers, and entered the presence-chamber, where the king and regent were, surrounded by a vast number of nobility, gentry, foreign ambassadors, and general officers. No sooner did the regent observe the earl than he withdrew to an inner charnber, whither, however, he was followed by his lordship, who, as he entered the room, told him, that if at pre sent he denied him audience, perhaps in time ho might be gla'd to have one in his turn. On this the regent and he entered into conversation for two hours. His royal highness perceiving, that nothing, though ever so secretly transacted, could be kept from so prying an ambassador, and that one-half of the French nation were, through poverty, become spies upon the other, he made a merit of discovering the whole plan of the Spanish minister to Lord Stair. It was deeply laid, and we shall en deavour to give a concise account of it, that the reader may be made acquainted with the political history of the first years of the reign of George I., in which the earl of Stair was the principal agent./ Though Philip V., the grandson of the late king of France, was, by , the treaty of Utrecht, allowed to reign peaceably over the ruins of the ' Spanish monarchy, yet neither he nor his ministers were content with the terms obtained. Cardinal Alberoni, the then Spanish minister, knew very well, that though the emperor, by the late treaty, was put in possession of Sicily and Flanders, aud secured in his other vast do minions, he was yet so far drained of his treasure by the last war as to have no great inclination to a rupture ; he judged the same of the other powers engaged ; and thinking that Great Britain had obtained too advantageous terms at the last general pacification, his aim was to give her a king who would be apt to relinquish every advantage in gratitude for the favours done him. But as Spain was unable alone to accom plish so great a project, the cardinal thought of gaining over Charles XII. of Sweden, with the czar of Muscovy, to his views. The former was easily brought into the scheme, from a prospect of regaining Bremen and Verden, the investment of which had been given to George I. by the emperor. In connexion with this scheme, Baron Goertz, the Swedish minister to the" states-general, and one of the ablest statesmen in Europe, had twice an interview with the czar at the Hague, and having informed him that he had got considerable sums from the dis affected in England to buy ships and ammunition for invading Scotland, the Russian monarch went in person to Paris in May, 1717, and, under the pretext of visiting the academy, the arsenals, the chambers of rari ties, and every thing that might excite the attention of the curious, conferred with the regent upon the intended scheme. The conference with the czar, was, by the regent's secretary, communicated to the Bri tish ambassador, who directly acquainted his court, and such active Period.] JOHN, EARL OF STAIR. ' 161 measures were instantly taken as rendered the scheme impracticable ; at the same time, a letter from Count Gyllenburgh, the Swedish en voy at London, to his brother, Gustavus, then ambassador in France, having fallen into the earl of Stair's hands, he transmitted it to the Bri tish ministry, by whom Count Gyllenburgh was arrested, and most of his papers seized, in which were many letters from and to Baron Goertz. From these it appeared plainly that an invasion was de signed. But these were not the only attempts in favour of the unhappy fugi tive, that were defeated through Stair's means. He likewise had a principal share in bringing about the quadruple alliance, offensive and defensive, between his Britannic majesty, the emperor, the most chris tian king, and the states-general ofthe United Provinces, by which the designs of the court of Madrid were totally defeated. However, the cardinal now openly received and entertained the pretender at the court of Madrid ; and, in hopes of making a powerful diversion iu Hungary, he attacked the emperor, and fomented disturbances in the British dominions. Having likewise formed a design of seizing the island of Sicily, he fitted out a fleet for that purpose ; and, in July 1718, this Spanish armament took several considerable places in the island. But while they were busily employed in attacking the citadel of Mes sina, the British fleet came to the assistance of the Sicilians, and, on the 11th of August, attacked twenty-seven Spanish ships of the line, off Cape Passaro ; after an obstinate engagement, the English took and sunk most of them, and soon after the king of Sicily acceded to the quadruple alliance. This blow so much chagrined the court of ' Spain, that an order was issued for seizing all British merchant- ships, and effects in that kingdom. His majesty, George I., thereupon granted letters of marque and reprisals to the British subjects against those of Spain, on the 3d of October ; and on the 17th, war was de clared against Spain. The Spanish court was, at this time, the most intriguing in Europe ; for she not only endeavoured to disturb the tran quillity of Britain, but likewise of France, for which purpose,. the prince of Cellamare, her ambassador at Paris, had entered into a conspiracy with some mutineers, to whom he gave pensions. The design was, to take away the regent's life ; to make an inroad into four provinces of the kingdom ; to gain over the French ministry to the Spanish interest ; and thus pave a way for uniting the whole, or at least the greatest part, of the French dominions, with those ofthe younger branch ofthe bouse of Bourbon reigning in Spain. The scheme might have taken place, and have rekindled a general war, if it had not been discovered in the following extraordinary manner. — Two noblemen, who were intrusted with a packet from the Spanish ambassador, in France, to Cardinal Alberoni, containing a relation of the progress he had made with some noblemen, took a chaise, which broke down about two leagues from Paris. The postilion, observing them to take more care of their portmanteau than of themselves, and struck with the remark of one of them, that he would rather lose one hundred thousand pistoles than it, after driving them to the end of the first stage, hastened to Paris, and gave immediate notice of what he had seen to the govern ment. The council of regency being instantly called, proper officers were immediately sent off, with orders to stop them ; which tbey effect- IV x 162 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTH ed at Poictiers, and not only arrested their persons, but sent their portmanteau to Paris, in which were found the plainest marks of a conspiracy. The same night several persons of distinction were seized, and sent to the Bastile ; and the Spanish ambassador was commanded to leave the kingdom. The Abbe du Bois, secretary of state, wrote a circular letter, the next day, to the several ministers residing at the French court, and particularly to the earl of Stair, acquainting him with the motives which induced them to take' this step. Soon after this, a declaration of war was made by France against Spain ; and although it was looked upon rather as fictitious than real, yet the burn ing of six new men-of-war upon the stocks at Los-passages, and the taking of some towns, put the matter of France's being in earnest be yond all possibility of doubt. But no disappointments could check the restless spirit of the cardinal, who still fomented the tumultuous passions of the British rebels ; many ofthe most considerable of whom had retired into the dominions ofhis master. The duke of Ormond, in particular, having received notice to leave France, upon an application made to the regent for that pur pose, Alberoni pressed him to repair to Madrid. This invitation was kept a profound secret, but there were some people about the duke who thought proper to communicate the design to their corres pondents in Paris ; and these having shown their letters to one Mac donald, a lieutenant-colonel in the Irish brigades, he handed them about, till at last it came to the ears of the British ambassador, who sent Captain Gardiner express, with an account, that the preparations of the Spaniards at Cadiz were certainly designed against England, and that their fleets would put to sea the 7th or 8tb of March 1718. This piece of intelligence was communicated by the king to parliament; and every military preparation was made by land and at sea to oppose the invasion, which might have proved very formidable, if the enemies of their country had not met with a check from another quarter. The duke of Ormond, with 5000 land forces on board, having pro visions, ammunition, and every other necessary, had embarked for the west of England ; but, meeting with a storm off Cape Finisterre, they were separated. His Grace, with most of the English and Irish officers, were obliged to put back to Cadiz ; while the earls of Marshal and Seaforth, and the marquess of Tullibardin, pursued their voyage, and landed at Kintail, in the north of Scotland, on the 15th of April, with about 400 Spanish troops. They were very uneasy to know the fate of the duke of Ormond, and deferred moving from thence till they should hear what was become of his Grace ; but, before any certain ac counts arrived of his disappointment, General Wightman was in march to disperse them, having with him two Swiss and three Dutch battalions, 120 dragoons, . and about 350 foot soldiers. He came up with them on the pretender's birthday, at the pass of Glenshiel, where the M'Ken- zies were stationed on one side, the marquess of Tullibardin, with the laird of M'Doual, upon the other, and the Spaniards intrenched in their front, making in all 1650. No sooner did they enter the. pass, than the rebels, who lay concealed among the heath, poured in upon them a volley, and killed the colonel of a Dutch regiment upon the spot. General Wightman, observing the matter, ordered some hand- grenades to be thrown in among them, which fired the heath ; and one Period.] JOHN, EARL OF STAIR. 163 of the splinters wounding Seaforth in the wrist, his clan carried him off, and at the same time retired in the greatest confusion. The rebels placed in the right hand of the pass having given way, those on the left made off full speed, deserting the Spaniards, who were all made prisoners. This was the last effort in favour of the old pretender dur ing the reign of George I. During the remainder ofthe reign of George I., Stair was one ofthe cabinet council ; and, on George the#"!econd's ascending the throne, he was received into the same confidence. In April 1730, he was made lord-admiral of Scotland, which, with his other posts, he held till April 1733, when he fell into disgrace at court, upon the occasion of bringing in a bill for changing the duties upon tobacco and wine, and bringing them under the laws of excise, in order to prevent frauds in the revenue. This affair was greatly dis liked by the trading part ofthe nation. Among the number of those who opposed it in the house of peers, was the earl, of Stair. A little time after, he resigned all his places into his majesty's hands ; as did the Lord Cobham, the duke of Bolton, the earl of Chesterfield, the earl of Burlington, and many others. In June 1734, he appeared at the general elections in his native country ; and as the party who had sided with Sir Robert Walpole in promoting the excise scheme had been at great pains to carry the elections of Scotland, he was the first to enter a protest against the minister's interference, and because the mili tary, who, by act of parliament, ought to be moved some miles from the place of election, were, nevertheless, under arms at no farther dis tance than half a mile. During his retirement from court, he was visited by the nobility from all quarters ; he corresponded with several generals abroad, and with some of those noblemen in England who had resigned at the same time with himself. But a change in the ministry, which took place in 1741, rendered his presence necessary at court. The British merchants bad long complained that letters of marque had been issued out from the Spanish admiralty, against British ships, under pretence of searching for contraband goods and passports. Nu merous representations had been made upon this head at Madrid ; several conferences were held upon the subject ; and at last a conven tion was signed on the 4th of January, 1739, in which Spain agreed to pay £95,000, to compensate the losses sustained by the British sub jects. This affair might have been amicably terminated, had not Spain mustered up a claim of £68,000 upon the African company, concern ing the negroes ; and refused to pay the £95,000, till the £68,000 were deducted. In consequence of fresh insults, on the 23d of October, 1739, war was declared against Spain. Admiral Vernon, who had been sent to the West Indies to protect our trade, took Porto Bello on the 22d of November, and received 30,000 piastres as a ransom for not pillaging the town. On the 1st of April, 1740, he sailed for Carthagena, whose out-works he took, but failed in an attack upon the place itself. About a year after the beginning of the war with Spain, the emperor Charles VI. died on the 9th of October, 1740; on which day, his eldest daughter, late empress-dowager, and mother to the present emperor, was proclaimed queen of Hungary and Bohe mia, and archduchess of Austria. Her ministers at the several courts 164 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth of Europe notified her accession, but the elector of Bavaria claimed the crown for himself. The troops of his electorate marched, in Sep tember, 1741, in support of his claim, and were followed by 30,000 French forces, under pretence of securing the free election of an em peror, according to the treaty of Westphalia, of which their king was the guarantee. On the other hand, his Britannic majesty supported the Pragmatic sanction, and opposed the election of an emperor by the influence of the court of Versailles During the winter of 1741, the armies were active abroad ; Lintz, and a few other places, were taken by the Austrians, who gained some advantages in the field. At home, the parliament was taken up with examining into the merits of elections ; many of which being carried against Sir Robert Walpole, he resigned his place into his majesty's hands ; on which a total change ensued in the ministry. A resolution was taken for supporting the queen of Hungary, and restoring the balance of power, which must have been entirely destroyed, if the treaty for dividing the dominions of the house of Austria had succeed ed, according to the proposal of France. In consequence of this re solution, three hundred thousand pounds were voted to her Hungarian majesty ; and a considerable body of British troops were sent to Flan ders, the command of which, as also of the Hanoverians and Hessians, was given to the earl of Stair. In March, 1742, he was made field- marshal of his majesty's forces, and ambassador- extraordinary and plenipotentiary to the states-general. His lordship instantly applied himself to the management of the im portant business committed to him ; and knowing that he had to deal ' with the ambassadors of Spain, France, and the new emperor, be assi duously studied their memorials, and prepared replies to them before he set out for Holland, where, on the 10th of April, five days after his arrival, being conducted to a public audience of their High Mighti nesses, he made them a very spirited harangue, which had the desired effect of engaging them in the queen's cause. This memorial was fol lowed by another ofthe 18th of August, in which the pressing applications of the queen of Hungary, for assistance from his Britannic majesty, against a powerful Frencli army, were laid down, and the pitful artifices of the French detected. Suffice it to say, the earl of Stair at length brought about a general pacification, but not till after the battle of Dettingen, where he, for the last time, distinguished himself, in concert with King George IL, as a general of undaunted bravery and intrepi dity. Soon after this action he petitioned to resign, which being granted, he again returned to the pleasures of a country life ; but ever ready to serve his king and country, upon the breaking out ofthe re bellion in 1745, he repaired to court, and offered his service to suppress it, which was gladly accepted. He accompanied the duke of Cumberland to Edinburgh. After the suppression of this insurrection, he continued at court till the winter of the year, 1746, when he repaired to Scot land, finding himself in a languishing condition, and unfit for business. On the 7 th of May, 1747, he breathed out a life which had been spent in eminent services to his country. The earl of Stair, in person, was about six feet high. He was, perhaps, one of the handsomest men of his time, and remarkable, among the nobility, for his graceful mien and majestic appearance. His complexion- was fair, but rather comely Period.] CHARLES SEYMOUR, DUKE OF SOMERSET. 165 than delicate ; his forehead was large and graceful, his nose straight and exquisitely proportioned to his face. As a diplomatist, Lord Stair was without a rival in his day. CJjarUs M&mouv, 2Buite of &amtratt BORN a. D. 1662. — DIED A.D. 1748. The proud duke of Somerset, as he is commonly called, belongs to the period now under consideration, as far as his political character is concerned ; for after the imaginary affront which he received from George I., the particulars of which will be related presently, he ac cepted of no office at court, and nearly retired altogether from public life. He was born on the 12th of August, 1662, and succeeded his bro ther Francis, fifth duke of Somerset, on the murder of the latter at Lerice, in 1678. ' In 1682, he married the lady Elizabeth, sole daughter and heiress of Josceline Percy, the last earl of Northumber land. It was stipulated on this occasion, that the duke should relin quish tbe name of Seymour, for that of Percy, after his marriage ; but his dutchess released him from the obligation. At the death of Charles II. Seymour was one of the privy-coun cillors who signed the proclamation of James II. ; but he soon fell into disgrace at court, in consequence of his stern refusal to introduce Dada, nuncio from Pope Innocent XI., to an audience at Windsor. In 1688, he succeeded Monk, duke of Albemarle, in the chancellor ship of Cambridge university ; and, in the same year, he declared for the prince pf Orange, on his landing in England. During William's reign, he was for some time president of the council ; he was also one ofthe lords ofthe regency in 1701. In January, 1711, his dutchess succeeded her grace of Marlborough, in the high offices which the latter held about the person of Queen Anne ; but neither she nor her husband retained their influence long. On the arrival of George I. in England, Seymour was nominated one of the new privy-council, and also appointed master of the horse, from which office he had been removed in 1712. But, within four weeks after, he threw up all his appointments. The occasion of the duke s sudden and extraordinary disgust is not very clearly known ; unless it be that his grace was offended at something like a breach of royal faith in the matter of his son-in-law, Sir William Wyndham's commitment to the Tower. It is said that his grace had obtained a promise, before Sir William's arrest, that he should be very gently dealt with, and not even placed under confinement ; but that this pledge was broken. Whatever was the real cause of the duke's indignation, the manner which he took to manifest it, bordered a little on the ridiculous. " Having commanded his servants to strip off the royal, and put on the family livery, he sent for a common dust-cart, and directed that all the badges of his office should be thrown into it ; he then, follow- 1 He was shot by Horatio Botti, in revenge of an insult which the duke and some cf his licentious companions had offered to his lady. 166 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXM ed by his retinue and the aforesaid vehicle, proceeded to the court-yard of St James's palace, and after ordering the driver to shoot the rub bish, he stalked back indignantly to Northumberland house, accom panied by the same cavalcade, in precisely the form in which he had left it." 2 The court must have been exceedingly amused at the proud duke and his dust-cart. There are many other anecdotes on record, equally illustrious ofthe duke's miserable pride. His second dutchess, T« Lady Charlotte Finch, daughter of the earl of Winchelsea, having, in a moment of playfulness, given him a familiar tap on the shoulder with her fan, he turned round, and sternly observed, " My first dutchess was a Percy, and she never took such a liberty !" Noble relates that the duke having the celebrated painter, James Seymour, one day at his table, was pleased to drink to him in these terms, " Cousin Seymour, your health ;" but, on the painter replying, " My lord, I really do be-. ; ; lieve I have the honour of being of your grace's family;" the duke ||; blushing with offended pride, rose from table, and desired his steward to pay Seymour his bill, and dismiss him. On some occasions his in tolerable pride was deservedly dealt by. " Get out of the way 1" said one of the outriders, who commonly preceded the duke's carriage, to a countryman who was driving a hog along the path, by which the great man was about to pass. " Why?" inquired the boor. "Because my lord duke is coming, and he does not like to be looked at," rejoin ed the courier. " But I will see him, and my pig shall see him too !" exclaimed the clown, enraged at the imperious manner of the lacquey, and, seizing the animal by the ears, he held it up before him until his grace and retinue had rolled past. His grace died in 1748. There is a fine statue of him, by Rys- brack, in the senate-house of the university of Cambridge. Algernon, earl of Hertford, succeeded him in the dukedom. S23illtam, (Earl Cotoper. BORN A. D. 1670. — DIED A. D. 1723. This eminent lawyer was the son of Sir William Cowper, Bart., cf Hertford. He was educated for the bar, and became recorder of Col chester soon after his entering upon practice. In 1695 he was returned to parliament for the town of Hertford, and made a very successful debut in the house. In the next year he assisted as one of the crown- counsel in the trial of Sir William Perkins for high treason. He also supported the bill of attainder against Fenwick. In October, 1705, he was made keeper of the great seal. His ser vices in promoting the union of the Scottish and English crowns were rewarded by a peerage. On the 9th of November, 1706, he was cre ated Baron Cowper of Wingham ; and in the month of May following he was appointed lord-high-chancellor of England. On the resignation of the whig ministry in 1710, he resigned the seals of office, which were reluctantly received by his royal mistress. George I. restored him to the chancellorship in August, 1714. In * Memoirs of the Kit Cat Club, p. 10, 11. Period.] THOMAS, EARL OF MACCLESFIELD. 167 April, 1718, he resigned the great seal, having previously been raised to an earldom. In 1723 his political integrity was impeached by one Christopher Layer, who having been apprehended on a charge of high treason, in the course of his examination insinuated that Lord Cowper was connected with certain parties who were aiming at the expulsion of the house of Brunswick. His lordship indignantly denied the charge, and demanded an investigation ofthe whole affair by his brother-peers, but this was declined as unnecessary for the vindication of his charac ter, which was unsullied. Among the latest acts of his lordship's life was his opposition to the bill of pains and penalties against Atterbury, and his protest against an act for imposing a tax upon Roman Catholics. He died in October, 1723. All parties concur in ascribing considerable professional talents to Chancellor Cowper. Chesterfield declares, that, as a speaker, he was almost without a rival. " He never spoke without universal applause," he says. " The ears and the eyes gave him up the hearts and under standings of the audience." A writer of his own time has applied to him the compliment passed by Ben Jonson on Lord Verulam : — " He commanded when he spoke ; he had his judges angry and pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power ; and the fear of every man that heard him was lest he should come to an end.'' In general politics, Cowper was liberal ; but he was not a party- man, though he usually voted with the whigs, and shared their tri umphs or reverses. Swift, in speaking of Queen Anne's advisers, says of him : — " Although his merits are later than the rest, he deserveth a rank in this great council. He was considerable in the station of a practising lawyer ; but as he was raised to be a chancellor and a peer without passing through any of the intermediate steps which, in the late times, have been the constant practice ; and little skilled in the nature of government or the true interests of princes, further than the municipal or common law of England ; his abilities, as to foreign af fairs, did not equally appear in the council. Some former passages of his life were thought to disqualify him for that office, by wliich he was to be the guardian ofthe queen's conscience; but these difficulties were easily overruled by the authors of his promotion, who wanted a person that would be subservient to all their designs, wherein they were not disappointed. As to his other accomplishments, he was what we usu ally call a piece of a scholar, and a good logical reasoner ; if this were not too often alloyed by a fallacious way of managing an argument, which makes him apt to deceive the unwary, and sometimes to deceive himself." Stomas, (Sari of JflawUsfi* IU BORN A.D. 1667. — DIED A. D. 1732. Thomas Parker, lord-chancellor of Great Britain, was the son of an English attorney of good family. He was born at Leeke, in' Staf fordshire, in 1667 ; and educated at Trinity-college, Cambridge. Hav ing adopted the profession of the law, in 1705, he was appointed coun- 168 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth sel to Queen Anne ; and in the same year he was returned member for the city of Derby. He succeeded Sir John Holt, as chief-justice in the king's bench, be ing recommended to that office by Godolphin and Sunderland. George I. created him Baron Macclesfield, and, on the 12th of May, 1718, appointed him lord-chancellor. In 1721 he was created earl of Macclesfield. Macclesfield was an able lawyer, and an equitable judge, but not free from the charge of venality. On the 6th of May, 1725, he was formally impeached by the commons, in twenty-one articles, for having disposed of certain offices in chancery to incompetent persons, and with having embezzled funds placed under the guardianship of that court. His trial lasted thirteen days, and was conducted with great spirit by the impeachers. He was unanimously pronounced guilty by upwards of ninety of his peers, and fined in £3(),000. It is said that Macclesfield's impeachment originated in the dislike of the prince of Wales, whom the chancellor had offended by asserting, that his royal highness had no right to control the education of his own children, and that the king gave Macclesfield a promise, that his fine should be paid out of the privy purse. Be that as it may, the death of his majesty threw the full burden of the fine upon the earl himself, who, mortified and irritated, retired at once from public life, and spent the remainder of his days at his seat of Sherborne castle, in Oxfordshire, where he died in' April, 1732. Mt C&arks Wla&tt. BORN A. D. 1666. — DIED a. D. 1743. This distinguished admiral was born on the 28th of October, 1666. He entered, while yet very young, into the naval service. On the 7th of June, 1692, he was appointed captain of the Razee fire-ship ; from which he was soon removed to the Samuel and Henry, of forty-four guns. In 1695, he had the command ofthe Woolwich, a ship of fifty- four guns, employed in the channel-fleet under Sir Cloudesley Shovel. Soon after the accession of Queen Anne, he became captain of the Hampton-court, of seventy guns. He subsequently served, in succes sion, under the orders of Shovel, Rooke, and Leake ; with the latter of whom he acted at the taking of Majorca. On his return from the Mediterranean, he was despatched, in 1707, with a squadron of nine ships of the line, to the West Indies, having under his convoy a valu able fleet of merchantmen, which he escorted safely to their respective destinations. Having received information, in the month of December, that the French admiral, Du Casse, had put to sea for the purpose of protecting some Spanish galleons homeward-bound, he set sail with the Expedition, Portland, Kingston, and a fire-ship, for the purpose of at tacking the galleons before Du Casse could join them. On the 28th of May, 1708, he descried the enemy's fleet, consisting of seventeen sail, galleons and ships of war, standing towards Carthagena. At sunset; ( he gallantly attacked the largest vessel, which, after having sustained an engagement for about an hour and a half, was blown up. His two Period.] SIR CHAIiLES WAGER. 169 consorts had, however, disregarded his signals to attack ; and, night coming on, he could only keep one of the enemy in sight. He canid up with her about ten o'clock, and his own vessel, the Expedition, be ing now assisted by the Kingston and Portland, the enemy's ship, which carried fifty guns, was compelled to surrender. Meantime, the galleons had dispersed and escaped. Admiral Wager's conduct, respecting the ship which he had captured in the engagement, gained him universal esteem. At that time, there were no regulations as to the distribution of prize-money ; but, when ever a vessel was captured, it fell a prey to a general pillage. To reme dy this evil, an act of parliament was passed, in 1707, regulating the future allotment of prize-money, but this not being known to Wager or his crew, they had proceeded on the old principle in making the divi sion. But upon receiving intelligence of the new law, Wager ordered his captain to deliver up, for fair distribution, all the silver and valua ble effects he had seized for his own and the admiral's use. Wager, shortly afterwards, received, by a vessel from England, a commission as rear-admiral of the blue; and, on the 2d of December, 1708, was made rear-admiral of the white. He remained until 1709 in the West Indies, where the ships under his command were very success ful in capturing prizes. On his return to England, he was immediate ly made rear-admiral of the red ; and, on the 8th of December, receiv ed the honour of knighthood. During the remainder of the reign of Queen Anne, he does not ap pear to have been employed in actual service ; but, shortly after the accession of Geoijge I., he was appointed commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean, and, nearly at the same time, comptroller of the navy On the 16th of June, 1716, he was made vice-admiral of the, blue ; on the 1st of February ensuing, vice-admiral of the white ; and, on the 15th of March, vice-admiral ofthe red. In 1718, he was appointed a lord of the admiralty, on which oticasion he resigned the comptroller- ship of the navy. Betwixt the years 1718 and 1730, Sir Charles performed a variety of services for his country, which our limits will not permit us to detail. In July, 1731, he was made admiral ofthe blue ; and, about the same time, had the command of a large armament, with which he set sail, for the purpose of seeing carried into execution the particulars of a treaty entered into at Vienna. The object of his mission being accom plished, he returned to England, where he arrived on the 10th of December, and never afterwards assumed any naval command. On the 21st of June, 1733, Sir Charles Wager was nominated first lord of the admiralty ; in January following, he was made admiral of the white; and having, on the 19th of March, 1741, quitted the ad miralty board, he was, in the month of December, appointed treasurer of the navy. This station he held until his death, which took place on the 24th of May, 1743, in the seventy-seventh year of his age. A splendid monument was erected to his memory in Westminster-abbey. Sir Charles Wager was a good naval officer, and remarkable for coolness in the midst of danger and difficulty. While he was at the head of the admiralty, an expedition, conducted by Captain Middle- ton, was sent out for.the discovery of a passage to the South seas by the north-west part of Hudson's bay ; and Commodore Anson perform- 170 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth ed his celebrated voyage round the world, the original idea of which is said to have been formed and matured by Sir Charles himself. Matsljal »a*re. BORN A.D. 1673 DIED A.D. 1748. George Wade was born in the year 1673. He entered the army in 1690, and became a major-general in 1709. On being placed at the head of the ordnance department in Scotland, he conferred a sin gular benefit on that kingdom by employing the military in cutting roads and otherwise improving the means of communication in the Highlands. In this undertaking he displayed considerable skill and great perseverance ; and being aided by the resident gentry, as well as supported by the government, after ten years of the most strenuous and persevering efforts he succeeded in throwing open a great part of the northern portion of Scotland to ready and easy access from the Lowlands. The consequences were of incalculable benefit to the Highlanders themselves, as well as to the country at large. Wade set about making his roads in the true military style of his great prede cessors in the art, — the Roman legionaries. In Chambers's amusing ' Book of Scotland' one of Wade's roads is described as presenting only four deviations from a direct line in the long distance of sixteen miles, and these were all occasioned by the necessity of carrying the work across rivers. Wade, says Chambers, " seems to have communicated his own stiff, 8rect, and formal character to his roads, but above all to ¦ this particular one, which is as straight as his person, as undeviating as his mind, and as indifferent to steep braes as he himself was to difficul ties in the execution of his duty." In 1715, the marshal was returned to parliament for the borough of Hindon. In 1722, he was elected for Bath, and continued to repre sent that city until his death, which occurred in 1748. Wade has been accused of cowardice by some, and of military in capacity by others, on account of his conduct during the rebellion of 1745. He was placed at the head of a body of troops destined to act against the rebels, but lingered inactively at Newcastle, when, as it is alleged, he ought to have been marching into the north. There is no proof, however, that the marshal was at all deficient in courage ; on the contrary, on more than one occasion he gave eminent proofs of his being possessed of a high degree both of honour and animal courage ; and it does not appear that his conduct in 1745 ever drew down upon him the censure of the government; he died a privy-councillor, and in possession of his full military rank. Hortr "discount nolin$btoke ? BORN A.D. 1678. — DIED a. D. 1751. Henry St John, Lord Viscount Bolingbroke and Baron St John of Lidyard Tregoze, was born about the year 1678. Common fame has Period.] LORD VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE. 171 placed his birth at an earlier period ; and if we are to rely on the tes timony of his tomb-stone, 1672 must be assigned as the year in which he was born; but he himself expressly says in a letter to Sir W. Wynd ham, which bears the date of New Year's day, 1738, " nine months hence I shall be threescore;" and, therefore, we must conclude the year first mentioned to be the correct one. It avails not to speak of the an tiquity, wealth, or distinction of the lordly line from which he sprang : " Not all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay, Or poets tell in honey'd lines of rhyme, Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime." It is, however, interesting to know that the branch of the St John's, from which he was immediately descended, was distinguished by its at tachment to popular rights, and that several of his relations died con fessors in the eminent cause of England's liberties. . He himself was bred up with great care by his grandfather, Sir Henry St John, at his family seat of Battersea. As his grandmother was a decided puritan, and entertained in her house that celebrated nonconformist, JDaniel Bur gess, it is natural to conclude that St John was educated in dissenting principles ; and indeed he himself informs us in his letter to Pope, printed at the end of the celebrated epistle to Sir W. Wyndham, " that he was obliged, while yet a boy, to read over the commentaries of Dr Manton, whose pride it was to have made a hundred and nineteen ser mons on the hundred and nineteenth Psalm." At a proper age he was sent to Eton, where a rivalship commenced between him and the fa mous Sir Robert Walpole, which, in after life, ripened into the bitter est enmity, and terminated only with the grave. From Eton he re moved to Christ church, Oxford, where he contrived effectually to purge himself from any taint of puritanism which in his early education he might have contracted. He left the university with the reputation of possessing brilliant talents; and as his personal appearance was of almost unequalled beauty, combining grace with a dignity that seemed born for command, while his manners were so fascinating that they alone would have won his way to the hearts of men, and his conversation was adorned by the most sparkling wit, and a profusion of illustrations furnished by his boundless memory, high expectations were entertained of his future success in life : but to great parts he added great pas sions, and his outset in life was signalized by a career of profligacy and debauchery, which excited the wonder of an age nowise remarkable for its morality. Ever anxious to be foremost in the pursuit which engaged his attention at the time, he probably derived as much satisfaction from the notoriety of keeping Miss Guisley, the most expensive prostitute in the kingdom, and of being able to drink a greater quantity of wine at a sitting than any other man of fashion, as he subsequently did from his fame as a politician. His parents, in order to reclaim him, caused him to be married to the daughter and co-heiress of Sir Henry Win- chescomb, — a lady with whom he received a handsome jointure ; but it does not appear that the remedy was successful, for after living together some time, they parted by mutual agreement, he complaining of the obstinacy of her temper, and she bitterly accusing him of the most shameless infidelity. In the year 1700 — the same year in which he was married — he was chosen I* represent the borough of Wootton-Basset, 172 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth in the parlianifciit of which Robert Harley was for the first time chosen speaker. Whatever may have been St John's other faults, desertion of his party cannot be charged upon him, for on this his first introduction to public life, he openly joined the tories, either because he perceived them to be the dominant faction, or through the influence of Marlbo rough, who had already taken notice of him as a young man of rising talent. He sat for tbe same place in the next parliament, which was the last of William and the first of Anne, and is said to have voted against the bill for settling the succession to the crown. There has been no little discussion of the truth of this charge, which he himself repeatedly denies in the most indignant terms ; but the fact appears to be, that although he might not vote against the principle of the bill, lie did vote against a most important and essential provision of it, that by which it was declared to be high treason to obstruct the accession of the house of Hanover. He appears rapidly to have risen into notice as a man of invincible energy and singular talent; for, in 1704, he, along with Harley, to whom he had closely attached himself, was brought into office by Marlborough and Godolphin as secretary at war and of the marines. Though he was at this time, and indeed as long as he continued in office, an ardent votary of wine and women, he made him self extremely active in the house of commons, and impressed on all men, by his readiness both to speak and to act, a high respect for his talent and enterprize. Though sprung from a whig family, he was himself a decided tory, and as such, was closely leagued with Harley in all political measures. So intimate was the alliance between them, that when, in 1707, Harley was dismissed from office, in consequence of the discovery of his intrigues, St John chose to follow his fortunes, and gave in his resignation on the day following. He was not elected to the parliament which met in 1708, but employed the two years of his retirement in hard study, and he subsequently declared this to have been the most serviceable part of his life. It cannot now be known what share he took in the series of dirty, but well-contrived intrigues, which ended in the expulsion of an administration, that possessed the entire confidence of the moneyed interest and of the allies, — tbat was upheld by men of no common talent, deeply versed in the management of business, and that had won for the country immortal laurels in a popu lar war. It is idle to consider the trial of Sacheverell as any thing but a subordinate cause of the overthrow of Godolphin's administration, though it is certainly true that that misjudged proceeding hastened its downfall. As Bolingbroke said, " The whigs took it into their heads to roast a parson, and they did roast him ; but their zeal tempted them to make the fire so hot that they scorched themselves." ' The true causes are to be found in the heavy expenses of the war, and in the Jacobite inclinations of the queen. On the change of power St John was made secretary of state, Harley being chancellor and under- treasurer of the exchequer. To support the new ministry, the famous periodical was set up, entitled ' The Examiner,' of wbich the first twelve papers were written by St John, Atterbury, Prior, and others of* eminent talent. One of these papers was written by St John with such consummate ability, that it has since acquired a separate reputation, as Mr St John's letter to the Examiner. In the new parliament he sat for Berkshire, and if at any, it was at this period ofhis life that his love of power and Period.] LORD VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE. ] 7S prominence was gratified. To him was intrusted the chief support of the ministry in the lower house ; and of a surety, large as was the majority which he could command, it required all his keen sarcasm and brilliant rhetoric to withstand the small but formidable mass of the op position. To him is to be ascribed the credit or discredit of managing the treaty of Utrecht ; and however much we may blame the terms of this celebrated peace, — the desertion of our allies, — the base cringing to France, — and the ignominious surrender of our just claims,1 we can not refuse to admire the energy and tact displayed by St John in car rying it through. Feebly backed by that solemn trifler, Harley, — op posed with the utmost vehemence by an opposition of extraordinary talent, and deriving incalculable advantages from a minute acquaintance with business, — having to counteract the unceasing hostility of our nu merous and powerful allies, — to animate with his own spirit the flagging zeal of the supporters of government, — and, in addition to all this, be ing unable to rest securely on the promises of the French king, who again and again destroyed all the negotiations by the ever-increasing arrogance of his demands — St John, nevertheless, surmounted every difficulty, and by dint of unremitting application and singular address, at length carried the measure into execution. His spirit seemed to rise higher as difficulties and dangers increased upon him, and where other men would have been baffled by the prospect, he only nerved his arm to grapple with them more vigorously. Conscious as he must have been that he was the chief support of the ministry, it was not unnatural that his aspiring mind should be chagrined at beholding the most prominent place in the eyes of men, filled by one for whom he now began to entertain a thorough contempt ; and his chagrin was in creased in 1712 by his being raised to the peerage with the title of Viscount only, while that of Earl had been given to Harley, and by his having been omitted in a recent distribution of six vacant ribands ofthe order of the Garter. But besides this, there were other causes of a public nature. Bolingbroke detested Harley 's trimming policy, and was constantly urging" him to adopt high tory measures, and to clear the cabinet of every man favourable to the Revolution. He was also much more deeply implicated than the treasurer in the infamous correspondence which the ' Memoires de Berwic' satisfactorily show them both to have carried on with the Stuart family.2 The differences between the two ministers gradually increased to such a height, that it became evident the present cabinet could not long hold together ; and as Bolingbroke, besides contriving to win the favour of the queen's minion, Mrs Masham, was a much more decided Jacobite than his col league, Anne determined to sacrifice the lord-treasurer. Before the explosion took place, however, Bolingbroke exhibited his attachment to the principles of his family, and bis fond remembrances of the lessons and companions of his boyhood, by introducing into the house of lords, in a pompous speech, the memorably-infamous bill, " to prevent the growthof schism," by which dissenters were forbidden to instruct their ' St John himself confesses that England might have obtained more advantageous 8 It'is a curious proof of Bolingbroke's love for truth, that, in his letter to Wyndham, he solemnly denies having ever corresponded with the court at St Germains previous lo his impeachment. Whoever will read the Memoirs of Marshal Berwick, will find ample reason for disbelieving his lordship. 174 POLITICAL SERIES. [SlXTJF own children, and the whole country was to be " dragooned into ignor ance and irreligion." On the 27th of July, 1714, the white staff was taken from Harley ; and Bolingbroke, believing now that the supreme power was lodged in his hands, began with his characteristic energy to form a ministry of which every member elect was noted for his hostil ity to the protestant succession. Fortunately for the country and for posterity, the whig party was not less active ; and Anne being declared to be in imminent danger, from an illness brought on by the late dis sensions in the cabinet, the council, under the dukes of Argyle and Somerset, recommended the duke of Shrewsbury to hold the vacant staff, to which Anne gave her assent, and shortly after expired. No thing could exceed the rage of Bolingbroke and his associates on this unexpected event.3 The crisis they had long looked for was come, and behold ! the game had gone against them. By the bold and skilful management of the whigs, the country, in this hour of imminent peril, was delivered unscathed, — the protestant succession was firmly estab lished, — the Jacobites received a blow from which they never recover ed, — and the religion and liberty of the nation were placed on a sure foundation. On the third day after Anne's death, Addison was ap pointed by the regency to the foreign secretaryship, and Bolingbroke: i was made to deliver up all the letters and papers belonging to his office. On the arrival of the new monarch, Bolingbroke requested permission to kiss his hand, and sent most humble assurances of his obedience; but his request was refused ; and to such a height had the rage of his opponents been raised, that it was resolved to impeach him of high treason. Instead of staying to meet the charge, he fled in disguise to.J France, " in consequence," says he, in a letter to Lord Lansdowne, " of having received certain and repeated information from some who are in the secret of affairs, that a resolution was taken by those who had power to execute it, to pursue me to the scaffold." Immediately on his flight being known, a bill of attainder was brought in ^against him by his ancient school-fellow, Walpole; and so general was the impres- , sion of his guilt, that only two members — both of whom were rank Jacobites — ventured to utter a word in the fugitive's defence. The bill passed through the upper house ; and as if to justify it, Bolingbroke, y with the. smart of attainder tingling in his veins, accepted the office of secretary in the mock court of the pretender. But he soon discovered the madness of the step he had taken. It was just at this period that the ill-fated rebellion of 1715 was concocting, and on entering into office he found the treasury empty, — the French court indisposed to render any assistance, — the supporters of the cause full of ungrounded confidence and ill-regulated zeal, — the prince himself weak-headed and irresolute, — his chief counsellors struggling among themselves for place, — the English Jacobites unwilling to countenance the under taking,- — and all the affairs of the court and plans of the rising en tangled in such inextricable confusion, and surfeited with such pre posterous folly, that it seemed as if Providence had sent infatuation on them to destroy them. Despairing of success, Bolingbroke neverthe less determined to prop the falling cause to the best of his ability, and. s There is an amusing anecdote in the ' Secret History ofthe White Slaff,' detailing the conference between Bolingbroku and Atteibury, immediately after the queen had given away the slaff. Period.] LORD VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE. 175 exerted himself strenuously to reducf matters to something like order, and to obtain supplies from the French court. But even his talents failed of success; and to add to his mortification, he was summarily and insolently dismissed from the pretender's service, and articles of im peachment exhibited against him. What was the cause of this strange proceeding cannot now be ascertained ; but Bolingbroke appears to have •viewed it with sincere pleasure, as it at once set him at liberty from any engagements or obligations to the pseudo-monarch ; and when he was requested to reassume his office, he said, " I am a freeman, and I wish my arm may rot off if I ever draw my sword, or employ my pen, in his service." Being proscribed by both parties, it was with no little pleasure that he received from the earl of Stair, the English ambassador at Paris, an intimation of the king's favourable disposition to him, and he now turned all his thoughts to effecting a reconciliation with his enemies the whigs. We learn from Horace Walpole's letters, that he made professions of the most implicit submission and support to the whig government; and as an earnest of his anxiety to serve them, publish ed, in 1717, his celebrated letter to Sir W. Wyndham, in which he dis played, with great effect, the insignificance and folly of the pretender's party. Though it is oonfessed that this production gave a death-blow to the Jacobite cause, it does not appear that it effected Bolingbroke's real object, for he was still unable to return to England. During the early part of his exile his first wife had died, and he now married the widow ofthe. Marquis de Villette, and niece of the celebrated Madam Maintenon, a woman of great beauty and talent, in whose society, aid ed by the philosophical spirit which circumstances had forced upon him, and by the glittering gaieties of the French capital, he passed his time as happily as could wisely be expected for a spirit burning with the desire of action, and yet pent up in an inglorious idleness. In 1723, he obtained from England a pardon, as to his personal safety, but which restored him neither to his title or inheritance, nor to his seat in parliament. In consequence of this act of favour, he returned to England. Just as he was about to embark in the packet-boat at Calais, he met with his ancient ally Atterbury, who, after weathering the storm which had burst on the head of Bolingbroke, was now set ting out on a banishment for new offences, at the very time that his former coadjutor was returning. As soon as Bolingbroke arrived in England, he used all his arts and energy to obtain the reversal of his attainder, not scrupling to humble himself to degradation before his enemy Walpole, that he might accomplish his object ; and his efforts were so far successful, that in two years after his return from banish ment, his family-estate was restored to him, and he was allowed to pos sess any other estate in the kingdom which he might think proper to purchase. This remission of his sentence has always been charged up on Walpole as one of the most unwise acts of bis administration ; but Coxe, in his life of that statesman, shows pretty clearly that it was a measure unwillingly brought forward by Walpole, in obedience to the express commands of his sovereign, whose ear Bolingbroke had con trived in, some way to gain. The bitterness with which this act of indulgence was opposed in parliament, and the feelings of dislike which it excited throughout the country, are remarkable proofs of the extent 176 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth to which Bolingbroke was hated and feared. Methuen, the comptroller of the household, declared in the debate, that " the public crimes for which this petitioner stood attainted, were so heinous, so flagrant, and of so deep a dye, as not to admit of any expiation or atonement ; and whatever he might have done to deserve his majesty's private grace and pardon, yet he thought him altogether unworthy of any national favour." Bolingbroke took advantage of the favour shown him, to purchase a seat of Lord Tankerville's, at Dawley, near Uxbridge in Middlesex, and here he devoted himself to farming, painting his hall with spades, rakes, ploughs, and other emblems of agriculture. He maintained a constant correspondence with Swift, now banished, as he himself said, to Ireland, and Pope resided within a short distance, so that he was not wholly deprived of the society of eminent men. In writing to Swift about this period, he says, " I am on my own farm, and here I shoot strong and tenacious roots ; I have caught hold of the earth, to use a gardener's phrase, and neither my friends nor my enemies will find it an easy matter to transplant me again." But he had not yet learned to know his own temperament. However often he might make use of, he never felt the expression, " Innocuas amo delicias, doctamque quietem." His was not the spirit to which " rural amusements and philosophical meditations could make the hours glide smoothly, on." Finding that there was no hope of his being restored to his dignities so long as Walpole held the reins of power, and heedless of the gratitude which he had again and again professed to that statesman, he leagued him self with the tory party, and with the discontented whigs who clung to Pulteney, and commenced an opposition to the Walpole administration more implacable, and more systematic, than any other recorded in thei history of English factions. While Wyndham and Pulteney attacked/ the minister in parliament, Bolingbroke and others were not less active with their pens ; and in a series of papers published in ' The Crafts man,' Walpole was assailed with a ferocity, and it is but fair to add, a talent, rarely paralleled in political controversy. During ten years this warfare was carried on ; but the genius and the arts of Walpole pre vailed, and at length Bolingbroke was deserted by those over whom he had so long been the presiding genius. Pulteney, his ally, advised him to retire from the scene, declaring that the knowledge of his co-opera tion was more injurious than beneficial to the enemies of the admin istration, and the tories seem at last to have become restive under the yoke of " the mounting Bolingbroke." Finding himself thus useless, he took the resolution of retiring to France. " I am still," says he in a letter to Wyndham, written at this period, " the same proscribed man, surrounded with difficulties, exposed to mortifications, and unable to take any share in the service but that which I have taken, and which I think you would not persuade me to take in the present state of things. My part is over ; and he who remains on the stage after his part is over, deserves to be hissed off." Before his withdrawal, he summoned up all his energies to deal one parting-blow against the minister, in his ' Dissertation on Parties,' one of the ablest, if not the ablest, of his political writings. He retired to France in 1736, and took up his residence in an agreeable retirement near Fontainebleau. Here he devoted himself to more exalted studies than had previously occupied him. To use his own language in the ' Reflections upon Period.] LORD VTSCOUNT BOLINGBROKE. 177 Exile,' he resolved, " far from the hurry of the world, and almost an unconcerned spectator of what passed in it, having paid in a public life what he owed to the present age, to pay in a private life what he owed io posterity." The first fruits ofhis leisure was a series of ' Letters on the Study and Use of History,' in the course of which he takes occasion to develope the opinion which he had long previously maintained in so nversation, that the scriptures are not the revealed will of God. The shallowness and triteness of the reasoning with which he supports this doctrine, were too obvious to escape even the eyes of his most intimate friends. " If ever Bolingbroke trifles," said Pope, " it must be when he turns divine." The assumption of philosophical resignation and contempt for the accidents of life, which he displays in these letters, excited considerable ridicule at home; and to obviate this, he addressed a Letter to Lord Bathurst, on the true use of retirement and study. But in spite of his assumed philosophy, there was still beating beneath the dark mantle of the sage, a heart as open to human passions, as rest less, and as warm with hatred, party-spirit, and love of power, as any through which the stream of life ever circulated. He returned to England in the course of a few years, and took up his residence at his family-seat in Battersea, which had now fallen to him by the death of his father. Unable to look upon the course of events with that calm spirit of indifference, with the possession of which he had flattered him self, he plunged once again into the party-politics ofthe day. His 'Let ters on Patriotism and Idea of a Patriot King,' is one of his last, pro ductions ; and although the writer was bordering on his seventieth year, it displays as much fire, ingenuity, and florid rhetoric, and as little pro found judgment, as the earliest of his productions. After sketching a patriot king to be such an one as, if ever he existed, would be a sort of standing miracle, he concludes his airy speculation by saying, " Those who live to see such happy days, and to act in so glorious a scene, will, perhaps, call to mind with some tenderness of sentiment, when he is no more, a man who contributed his mite to carry on so good a work, and who desired life for nothing so iriuch as to see a king of Great Britain the most popular mail in his country, and a patriot king at the ¦ head of an united people." The last composition which flowed from his pen, was an Essay upon the state of the nation ; but ere it could be completed death arrested the writer's hand. After suffering excrucia ting agony from a cancer on his cheek, he expired at his family-seat, on the 15th of November, 1751, end was interred in Battersea church. With his dying breath he maintained the dark tenets of infidelity which he had professed during life, and some of his latest orders were, that none of the clergy should be allowed to disturb his dying hours. After his decease a number of productions intended for publication were found among his papers, one of which was his celebrated Essay on the nature, extent, and reality of human knowledge. It appears to us that nothing can be more absurd than the attempt which has been frequently made — and has of late been renewed by a writer of considerable ability in the department of fiction — to represent Bolingbroke as a man more sinned against than sinning, and animated at heart by a sincere desire to serve his country, though occasionally the ardour of his passions drove him into perilous errors. If there be one feature of his character which stands out more prominently than iv. z 178 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth another, it is an utter and heartless want pf principle. From the com mencement of his career down to the day of his death, personal ambi tion, or the spleen of the moment, was the mainspring of his actions. Signalizing his entrance upon public life by a desertion of the princi ples in which he had been educated, — voluntarily becoming the most ¦ active persecutor of his earliest friends and connections, — professing, to forward his own ambitious views, devoted attachment to a religion whose ministers he insulted, and whose altars he despised, — intriguing with a favourite, and corresponding with an exiled tyrant to supplant his colleague, — solemnly protesting his adherence to the Hanoverian suc cession, at the very time that he was filling his projected cabinet with zealous Jacobites, — cringing to the minister by whom he had been im peached and exiled, — assuring that minister of his friendship and sup port until he had obtained all the favours that could be granted, and then with shameless ingratitude organizing against him the most dead ly opposition, — inveighing against parties, and himself the ringleader of the bitterest of factions, lauding the prerogative to flatter a sovereign, and declaiming for a liberty bordering upon licentiousness, to embarrass a ministry, — are traits in the character of " this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke," which it would be cant and not candour, weakness and not wisdom, to forget or to forgive. Nothing can be more ludicrously ; inconsistent than his professions of adherence to a family which had been driven from the throne for its attacks on popular rights, contrast ed with the fiery vehemence of his tirades against the whigs for at tempting to enslave the nation. We defy any one to point out writ ings more deeply imbued with whig principles, or more opposed to all the political principles of Mr St John, than the letters in the ' Crafts*|| man,' those on the ' History of England,' and the ' Dissertation on Parties of my Lord Bolingbroke.' Yet, in spite of this want of consis tency, Bolingbroke never fell into the contempt which overtook his-col- league and rival, Harley, and which seldom fails to overtake all those | who embark on the voyage of life without the ballast of honesty. Per haps no two men actuated in the main by similar motives, and present- .; ing certain general points of resemblance, ever differed more widely than Harley and Bolingbroke. Each was actuated chiefly by a love of power, — each was ready to stoop to any device for the increase or preservation of that power, — each acknowledged no ties of gratitude, J and no laws' of honour ; but Harley was a cold formal trifler, — charac terized by no vice in private, and no virtue in public life, — ever making \ fair professions, and never fulfilling them, — " one t>f those gentle ones that would use the devil himself with courtesy," — and seeming to love power only for the sake of its empty splendours ; Bolingbroke was of a fiery energetic temper, — scorning to gild his actions so long as, he had authority to bear him through, — stained by every private immor- i ality, — constantly urging on with a reckless haste the most decisive counsels, and valuing power chiefly forthe opportunity of exercising it. The former was the least erect, the latter the fiercest and the strongest spirit that animated the scene. The great features of Bolingbroke's character are an unrivalled self- confidence and thirst for distinction. Hence it was that he constantly aimed at the first place in all things, and believed himself equal to it. In, the earlier part of his career it was his aim to combine the attributes Period.] LORD VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE 179 of the most brilliant wit, — the most accomplished litterateur, — the ablest statesman, — the most eloquent orator, — the most fashionable beau, — and the most reckless debauchee of the age. The idle compliment and commonplace of fashionable life was mingled with abstruse reflections on themes of mysterious import, and the gay badinage of the saloon was succeeded,- at no long interval, by the grave deliberations of the council-chamber. The evening which was commenced by advocating in the senate persecution as a method of propagating true religion, was not unfrequently concluded in heating and exhausting his fine imagina tion to deify the prostitute of the night, and in devastating his constitu tion by bacchanalian revelry. To be pre-eminent alike in the solemn oageantries of a court and the deep counsels of a senate, — in the world of fashion and the world of letters, — in pleasure and in busi ness, — in, the intrigues of a libertine and the intrigues of a politi cian, — was the aim of this Alcibiades of modern times. And it must be confessed, that few men have performed so many different parts with equal success. In after life, when his attainder prevented him from taking any active part in politics, and the fulness of enjoyment had brought a satiety of pleasure, he carried the same proud spirit into philosophy. Not only aspiring at the possession of universal knowledge, but also to be the sole arbiter and lord-paramount in every department of literature on which his pen was exercised, he at tempts to exact from mankind a homage which would be refused to abilities far greater than his, employed for a life-time on a tithe of the vast domain over which he ranges. To use Tillotson's fine language, it was his purpose, " by a vast and imperious mind, and a heart as large as the sands on the sea-shore, to command all the knowledge of nature and art, of words and things ; to attain to a mastery in all languages, and sound the depths of all arts and sciences, — measure the earth and the heavens, and tell the stars, and declare their orders and motions,— to discourse of the interest of all states, the intrigues of all courts, the reason of all civil laws and constitutions, and to give an account of the history of all ages."3 Thus arrogant, — thus vast in his aspirations, — and, with a heart unteachable by the sweet uses of adversity, it is not a matter of surprise, that he met the common fate of those who have not taken due measure of their own capacity ; that, of the multifarious projects in which he engaged, not one came to perfection, with the solitary ex ception of the treaty of Utrecht, — that his whole life was a series of fruitless struggles, — and that his proud heart, after so many morti fications, became corroded with all malevolence, and a prey to its own passions. He stands, for the instruction of posterity, a monument of blighted ambition, — vast in dimensions, and stately in the framework, but scathed and blasted by deep scars of thunder. Having now spoken of Bolingbroke's moral qualifications, it only re mains for us to offer a few observations on the qucestio vexata of his mental character. No man in ancient Or modern times received a larger measure of applause from his contempories, whether friends or enemies. The theme of Swift's warmest panegyrics, — the god of Pope's idolatry, — and esteemed the miracle of an age not undistinguished by great names, it might have been anticipated that his remains would have 5 Sermon ' On the wisdom of being religious.' 180 POLITICAL SERIES. [Sixth been greedily sought after by posterity, and perused with an almost re verential admiration. Yet so much do succeeding generations differ in their opinion, that scarcely one man in ten knows him to have been any thing more than a statesman, and not one in a hundred has made him self acquainted with his writings. Perhaps it is not very difficult to assign the cause of this apparent anomaly. Bolingbroke's abilities were exactly of that stamp which astonish and fascinate those who come into personal contact "with their possessor, — more brilliant than solid, — more showy than substantial. His mind was mot a profound one ; but what it wanted in this respect was atoned for by its readiness and aouteness. He seemed to grasp every thing by intuition, and no sooner had he made himself master of a proposition or an argument, than his astonish ing memory enabled him to bring forth vast stores of information and illustration at a moment's warning. Endowed with a brilliant imagination, — a prodigious flow of words, — a style which fascinates the reader by the incomparable beauty of the language and the bounding elasticity of the sentences, — and an extraordinary power of presenting his conceptions in the clearest possible light, — his contemporaries looked upon him as one of those rare beings who seem to be endowed with a nature superior to that of common mortality, and who stoop down to the world only to evince their mastery of all its lore, and their superiority to its inhabitants. But, dazzled as they were by the vast surface of the stream, they forgot to inquire into its depth. We, in modern times, who know nothing of the artificial splendour with which a " form ex celling human," — a manner that seemed given to sway mankind, — and a most dazzling style of conversation, invested the name of Boling broke, are perhaps inclined, by the exaggeration of the praise once lavished on him, to do him but scanty justice. Nevertheless, it must strike the reader of his works, that he nowhere exhibits a power of carrying on a continuous train of thought ; that he never fairly grap ples with any subject, but contents himself with pointing out its weak nesses and illustrating its minor features ; that no lofty thought or original reflection escapes from him ; that he is an acute observer, but a shallow thinker, — a clever a-hetorician, but an illogical reasoner. His political writings are indeed occasionally distinguished by a vigor ous and well-conducted style of argumentation ; but we know not more tame and impotent specimens of deduction than his ' Philosophical Es says.' The boasted First Philosophy is founded on a congeries >of con futed fallacies and shallow sophistries, on which it would be impossible to build any edifice more substantial than a limbo of vanity. The un abashed assurance with which he pronounces his dictum on the merits ofhis predecessors and contemporaries, — the tacit assumption which he makes of his own superiority, — the various character and prodigious extent of his erudition, superficial as it unquestionably was, — the variety and happiness of his illustrations,- — the brilliancy of his meta phors, — and, above all, the inimitable graces of his style, combining with the form of an essay the spirit and fire of an oration, have im posed upon the vulgar; but those who can look beneath the surface will discover, without much difficulty, that the inside of the cup and the platter is scarcely answerable to the splendour of the external show. « Such was the life and character of Lord Viscount Bolingbroke,— a J man of whom it may be truly said that he performed nothing tp entitle :J Period.] ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON. 181 him to the gratitude of his coevals, and that he has bequeathed to pos terity little save an example to be shunned. There were about him some elements of a noble nature—something that seemed, " For dignity composed, and high exploit :" but so marred by vices, that his evil genius never lost its ascendancy. There was, however, something magnificent in the indomitable energy of his nature, — in the invincible spirit which supported him under long years of exile and disgrace, — in the vast aspirations after dominion over the wide fields of intellect and universal supremacy which tempts us to exclaim, — " This should have been a noble creature ! He Hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled ; as it is, It is an awful chaos, — light and darkness, — And wind and dust, — and passions and pure thoughts, Mix'd and contending without end or order, All dormant or destructive : he will perish." His works were published in 5 vols., 4to, by Mallet; London, 1755. Works, with his life, by Goldsmith, in 8 vols., 8vo.; London, 1809. His Letters and Correspondence, public and private, during the time of his secretaryship to Queen Anne, were published by G. Parke, in 2 vols., 4to ; London, 1798. II.— ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. grcpisDojp Cillotson, BORN A. D. 1630. — DIED A. D. 1694. This eminent divine, one of the brightest ornaments of the church of England, was descended from a family anciently of the name of Tilston, in Cheshire. His father was Robert Tillotson, a considerable clothier of Sowerby, in the parish of Halifax in Yorkshire. Both his parents were nonconformists. After he had passed through the grammar-schools, and attained a skill in the learned languages superior to his years, young Tillotson was sent to Cambridge in 1647, and admitted a pensioner of Clare-hall He commenced bachelor of arts in 1650, and master of arts in 1654 ; having been chosen fellow of this college in 1651. He left College in 1656 or 1657, according to Dr Hickes, who informs us that he was invited by Edmund Prideaux, Esq. of Ford-Abbey, in Devonshire, to instruct his son. This gentleman had been commissioner of the great seal under the long parliament, and was then attorney-general to Oliver Cromwell. How long Mr Tillotson lived with Mr Prideaux, or whe- 1&2 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXTH ther till that gentleman's death, which happened in 1659, does not ap pear. He was in London at the time of the protector's death. The date of Tillotson's entering into holy orders, and by whom he was ordained, are fects unascertained ; but his first published sermon was preached at the morning- exercise at Cripplegate. At the time of preaching this sermon he was among the presbyterians, whose commis sioners he attended — though as an auditor only — in the Savoy, in 1661 ; but he submitted to the act of uniformity on St Bartholomew's day in the year ensuing. The first office in the episcopalian church in which we find him em ployed after the restoration, was that of curate at Cheshunt in Hert fordshire, in the years 1661 and 1662. In December, 1662, he was elected minister of the parish of St Mary, Aldermanbury, by the pa rishioners, in whom the right of choice is vested. He declined the ac ceptance of that living, but did not continue long without the offer of another benefice, which he accepted, being presented in June, 1663, to the rectory of Ketton, or Keddington, in the county of Suffolk. Shortly after, he was called to London by the society of Lincoln's-inn, to be their preacher. The reputation which his preaching gained him in so conspicuous a station as that of Lincoln's-inn, recommended him, the year following, to the trustees of the Tuesday's lecture at St Law rence, Jewry, founded by Elizabeth, Viscountess Camden. Here he was commonly attended by a numerous audience, and a great concourse of the clergy, who followed him for improvement. He particularly dis tinguished himself by opposing the growing evils of Charles the Second's reign, — atheism and popery. In the year 1664, one Smith, having de- . serted the church of England for the Romish communion, published a book, called ' Sure Footing in Christianity ; or Rational Discourses on the Rule of Faith.' This being extolled by the abettors of popery as an unanswerable performance, Tillotson refuted it in a piece intituled, ' Rule of Faith,' which was printed in 1666, and inscribed to Dr Stil lingfleet. Smith — who assumed the name of Sergeant as a disguise- — re plied to this ; and in another piece, attacked a passage in Tillotson's sermon ' On the wisdom of being religious,' which sermon, as well as his ' Rule of Faith,' Tillotson defended in the preface to the first volume ofhis sermons, printed in 1671, in a manner which established his re putation as a controversial writer. In 1666 he took the degree of D. D. Upon the promotion of Dr Peter Gunning to the bishopric of Chichester, in 1670, Tillotson was collated to the prebend of the second stall in the cathedral of Canter bury, which had been held by the new bishop. He kept this prebend till he was advanced to the deanery of that church in 1672. In 1675, he was presented to the prebend of Ealdland, in St Paul's, London, which he resigned for that of Oxgate, and a residentiaryship in the same church in 1678. This last preferment was obtained for him by the in terest of his friend, Dr Sharp, afterwards archbishop of York. Dean Tillotson had been for some years on the list of chaplains to King Charles II., but his majesty, according to Burnet, had little kindness ,; for him. He therefore contented himself with his deanery, the duties of which he faithfully discharged ; aud upon several occasions he show- , ed the moderation ofhis views, particularly in 1674, when he engaged J in the revival of a scheme, which had miscarried in 1668, to compre- '"'_ Period.] ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON. 183 hend the protestant dissenters within the pale of the church" of Eng land by concessions on both sides ; but the violence of the high-church prelates rendered his good offices ineffectual. The origin of Tillotson's interest with the prince and princess of Orange, with the consequences of it in his advancement to the see of Canterbury, has been ascribed to an incident which is supposed to have happened in the year 1677, and Is thus represented by Eachard, in his 'History of England.' "The match between that prince and princess being made upon political views, against the wirt of the duke of York, and not with the hearty liking ofthe king, the country-party,' as they were then called, were exceedingly pleased and elated; and, after the lord-mayor's feast, a secret design was laid to invite the new married couple into the city, to a public and solemn entertainment to be made for them. To prevent -this, the court hurried both the bride and bridegroom, as fast as they could, out of town, so that they depart ed with such precipitation that they had scarce time to make any pro vision for their journey. Their servants and baggage went by the way of Harwich, but the prince and princess by Canterbury road, where they were to stay till the wind was fair, and the yacht ready to sail with them. Being arrived at Canterbury, they repaired to an inn ; and, no good care being taken in their haste to separate what was needful for their journey, they came very meanly provided thither. Monsieur Bentinck, who attended them, endeavoured to borrow some plate and money from the corporation for their accommodation ; but, upon grave deliberation, the mayor and body proved to be really afraid to lend them either. Dr Tillotson, dean of Canterbuiy, at that time in resi dence there, hearing of this, immediately got together all his own plate, and other that he borrowed, together with a good number of guineas, and all other necessaries for them, and went directly to the inn to Mon sieur Bentinck, and offered him all that he had got, and withal com plained that he did not come to the deanery, where the royal family used to lodge, and heartily invited them still to go thither, where they might be sure of a better accommodation. This last they declined, but the money, plate, and the rest were highly acceptable to them. Upon this the dean was carried to wait upon the prince and princess, and his great interest soon brought others to attend upon them. By this lucky accident, he began that acquaintance, and the correspondence with the prince and Monsieur Bentinck, which increased yearly till the Revo lution, when Bentinck had great occasion for him and his friends, on his own account, as well as the prince himself, when he came to the crowr And this was the true secret ground on which the bishop of London — whose qualities and services seemed to entitle him without a rival to the archbishopric— was set aside, and Dr Tillotson advanced over his head." On the discovery of the popish plot, Tillotson was appointed to preach before the house of commons on the 5th of November.- The discovery of the Rye-house plot, in 1683, opened a very melancholy scene, in which the dean had a large share of distress, on account both of his private friendships and his concern for the public weal. One of the principal objects of his solicitude and anxiety was Lord William Rus sell. After Lord Russell's condemnation, the dean and Dr Burnet were 184 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth sent Tor by his lordship, and they both continued their attendance upon him till his death. In 1685, when the persecution of the Huguenots, or protestant sub jects in France, became so intolerant, by the impolitic revocation of the edict of Nantz, that thousands of families forsook their country, and flea for refuge to the protestant states of Europe, many of them came to Eng land, and were encouraged by the dean to settle at Canterbury, where they amply repaid this country for the protection granted to them, by establishing*the silk-weaving trade. The king having granted briefs to collect alms for their relief, the dean exerted himself in procuring con tributions from his friends. Dr Beveridge, one of the prebendaries of his cathedral, having refused to read the briefs, as being contrary to the rubric, the dean is reported to have said to him, " Doctor, doctor, charity is above rubrics I " During the debates in parliament concerning the settlement of the crown on King William for life, the dean was advised with on that point by the Princess Anne of Denmark, who had at first refused to give her consent to it as prejudicial to her own right. Upon the accession of William and Mary, the dean was admitted into a high degree of favour and confidence at court, and was appointed clerk of the closet to the king. The refusal of Archbishop Sancroft to acknowledge the gov ernment or to take the oaths of allegiance, having occasioned that dig nitary's suspension soon after, his majesty fixed upon Tillotson for the primacy. His reluctance to accept this first dignity in the church of England will be best represented in the dean's own words, in his letter to Lady Russell upon that subject : — " But now begins my trouble. After I had kissed the king's hand for the deanery of St Paul's, I gave his majesty my most humble thanks, and told him that now he had set me at ease for the remainder of my life. He replied, ' No such mat ter, I assure you;' and spoke plainly about a great place, which I dread to think of, and said, ' It was necessary for his service ; and he must charge it iipon my conscience.' Just as he had said this he was called to supper, and I had only time to say, ' That when his majesty was at leisure I did believe I could satisfy him, that it would be most for his service that I should continue in the station in which he had now placed me.' This hath brought me into a real difficulty ; for, on the one hand, it is hard to decline his majesty's commands, and much harder yet to stand out against so much goodness as his majesty is pleased to use toward me. On tbe other, I can neither bring my inclination nor my judgment to it. This I owe to the bishop of Salisbury, — Dr Burnet, one of the worst and best friends I know : best, for his singular good opinion of me ; and the worst, for directing the king to this method, which I know he did, as if his lordship and I had concocted' the mat ter, how to finish this foolish piece of dissimulation, in running away from a bishopric to catch an archbishopric. This fine device hath thrown me so far into the briers, that, without his majesty's great good ness, I shall never get off without a scratched fece. And now I will tell your ladyship the bottom of my heart : — I have, of a long time, I thank God for it, devoted myself to the public service, without any re gard for myself; and to that end have done the best I could, in the best manner I was able. Of late God hath been pleased, by a very severe 'Period.] ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON. 185 way,1 but in great goodness to me, to wean me perfectly from the love of this world, so that worldly greatness is now not only undesirable, but distasteful to me ; and I do verily believe that I shall be able to do as much, or more good, in my present station, than in a higher; and shall not have one jot less interest or influence upon any others to any good purpose ; for the people naturally love a man that will take great pains . and little preferment ; but, on the other hand, if I could force my in clination to take this great place, I foresee that I shall sink under it, and grow melancholy, and good for nothing, and, after a little while die as a fool does." The see of Canterbury, however, becoming vacant by the deprivation of Archbishop Bancroft, in 1690, the king continued to importune the dean to accept of it. In this situation he wrote another letter to Lady Russell, wherein he tells her : — -" On Sunday last the king commanded me to wait upon him the next morning at Kensington. I did so, and met witb what I feared. His majesty renewed his former gracious of fer in so pressing a manner, and with so much kindness, that I hardly knew how to resist it. I made the best acknowledgments I could of his undeserved grace and favour to me, and begged of him to consider all the consequences of this matter, being well assured that all that storm, which was raised in convocation the last year by those who will be the church of England, was upon my account, and that the bishop of London was at the bottom of it, out of a jealousy that I might be a hindrance to him in attaining what he desires, and what, I call God to witness, I would not have. 'And I told his majesty that I was still afraid that his kindness to me would be greatly to his prejudice, espe cially if he carried it so far as he was then pleased to speak; for I plainly saw they could not bear it, and that the effects of envy and ill- will towards me would terminate upon him. To which he replied, ' That if the thing were once done, and they saw no remedy, they would give over, and think of making the best of it ; and, therefore, he must desire me to think seriously of it ;' with other expressions not fit for me to repeat. To all which I answered, ' That in obedience to his majesty's commands, I would consider of it again, though I was afraid I had already thought more of it than had done me good, and must break through one of the greatest resolutions of my life, and sacrifice at once all the ease and contentment of it; which yet I would force myself to do, were I really convinced that I was, in any measure, capable of doing his majesty and the public that service which he was pleased to think I was.' He smiled, and said, ' You talk of trouble, I lie' eve you will have much more ease in it than in the condition in which you now are.' Thinking not fit to say more, I humbly took leave." The result of this affair is mentioned at large in his letter to Lady Russell :— <-" I went to Kensington full of fear, but yet determined what was fit for me to do. I met the king coming out of his closet, and asking if his coach was ready. He took me aside, and I told him, ' That, in obedience to his majesty's command, I had considered of the thing as well as I could, and came to give him my answer.' I perceived 1 The death of his only surviving child, Mary, the wife of James Chadwicke, Esq.., is here alluded to : it happened in 1687. IV. , 2 A 186 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth his majesty was going out, and therefore desired him to appoint me another time, which he did, on the Saturday morning after. Then I came again, and he took me into his closet, where I told him ' that I could not but have a deep sense of his majesty's great grace and favour to me, not only to offer me the best thing he had to give, but to press it so earnestly upon me.' I said ' I would not presume to argue the mat ter any further ; but I hoped he would give me leave to be still his humble and earnest petitioner to spare me in that thing.' He answered; ' He would do so if he could ; but he knew not what, to do if I refused it.' Upon that I told him, ' That I tendered my life to him, and did humbly devote it to be disposed of as he thought fit.' He was gra ciously pleased to say, ' It was the best news had come to him this great while.' I did not kneel down to kiss his hand ; for, without tbat; I doubt I am too sure of it ; but requested of him that he would defer the declaration of it, and let it be a secret for some time. He said, ' He thought it might not be amiss to defer it till the parliament was up.' I begged farther of him that he would not make me a wedge to drive out the present archbishop ; that, some time before, I -was nomi nated, his majesty would be pleased to declare in council, that, since his lenity had not had any better effect, he would wait no more, but would dispose of his place. This, I told him, I humbly desired, that I might not be thought to do any thing harsh, or which might reflect upon me; for, now that his majesty had thought fit to advance me to this station, my reputation was become his interest. He said, ' He - was sensible of it, and thought it reasonable to do as I desired.' " At length his majesty's nomination in council of him to the arch-.;, bishopric took place on the 23d of April, 1691. The conge d'elire be ing granted on the 1st of May, he was elected on the 16th, confirmed, ¦ on the 28th, and, having retired to his house on Saturday the 30th, which he spent in fasting and prayer, was consecrated the day follow ing, being Whitsunday, in the church of St Mary-le-Bow, by Dr Pe ter Mew, bishop of Winchester ; Dr William Lloyd, bishop of St Asaph ; Dr Gilbert Burnet, bishop of Sarum ; Dr Edward Stillingfleet, bishop of Worcester ; Dr Gilbert Ironside, bishop of Bristol ; and Dr John. Hough, bishop of Oxford. Four days after his consecration he was sworn of the privy-council; and on the 11th of July he had a restitution of the temporalities of his see. All the profits, of it from the Michaelmas preceding were likewise granted to him. He did' not long survive his advancement, for, on Sunday the 18th oi November, 1694, he was seized with a sudden illness while at chapel in Whitehall. He .was attended, the two last nights of his illness, by his friend Nelson, the author of ' The Fasts and Festivals ofthe Church of England,' in whose arms he expired on the 10th of December, 1694, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. The archbishop's theological works are still held in the highest re pute, and have been frequently reprinted ; many of his sermons have likewise been translated into foreign languages. To the last edition in folio is prefixed his life, by the editor, Dr Birch, from which the pre sent memoir is chiefly extracted. Period.] 187 Btsljap -it en. BORN A.D. 1687 DIED A. D. 1692. Thomas Ken, youngest son, by the- first wife, of Thomas Ken of Furnival's Inn, was born at Little Berkhamstead, Hertfordshire, in July 1637. It is not known where he received the first rudiments of his early education, but he was afterwards entered on William of Wyke- ham's munificent foundation at Winchester, whence he was removed to New college, Oxford, of which he became a fellow-probationer in 1657. In 1666 he obtained a fellowship in the college near Winchester, and in 1699 was promoted to the dignity of a prebendal stall in the restored cathedral church of that place. For this advancement he was indebted to Bishop Morley, whose attachment to Ken seems to have been sin cere and warm, and probably originated in the kindness which he had himself experienced, during his ejectment, from Ken's sister, and her husband, Isaac Walton, in their retirement near Stafford. Morley af terwards appointed Ken his domestic chaplain, and presented him to the rectory of Brixton, in the Isle of Wight. In 1674, Ken made a tour to Rome, and soon after his return he was appointed chaplain to the princess of Orange, whom he accompanied to Holland. His stay in the royal suite was rendered uncomfortable to him by the conse quences of a too conscientious discharge of his duties; and in 1683, he accepted of Lord Dartmouth's chaplainry, and accompanied that nobleman on his expedition against Tangier. On his return he was appointed chaplain to the king ; but this mark of royal favour did not shake the high integrity of Ken, or render him more subservient to the royal pleasure in things unlawful. On the removal of the licentious monarch's court to Winchester, Ken's prebendal house was selected for the use of the infamous Nell Gwynn ; but the possessor boldly re fused to receive such a character within his doors, and Mrs Gwynn was compelled to look about for some less scrupulous landlord. The king took a proper view, however, of his chaplain's conduct, and to the surprise ofhis courtiers, soon afterwards nominated him bishop of Bath and Wells. Ken repaid the generosity of the dissipated monarch by attending him with the most anxious solicitude when on his death-bed; and Bishop Burnet declares that he expressed himself on that trying occasion " with great elevation of thought and expression, like a man inspired." In 1685, Bishop Ken published an ' Exposition ofthe Church Cate chism,' and in the same year a collection of ' Prayers for the use of the Bath.' He did not take any immediate part in the popish controversy, which now began to be agitated with so much keenness ; but be was one of the famous seven bishops who openly opposed the reading of the declaration of indulgence, and was committed to the tower in con sequence. He did not, however, see his way so clearly in the case of the oath of allegiance to King William, and on his refusal to take it was deprived ofhis bishopric in 1691. He retired to Long-Leat, the hospitable seat of his early friend, Lord Weymouth, where he com posed several devotional works, and some beautiful hymns. Queen 188 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SixxH Anne settled a pension of £200 upon him. He died at Lewson house, near Sherborne, in the 73d year of his age. He had kept his shroud for many years beside him, and on finding himself dying, he calmly put it on with his own hands, and having given his parting blessing to all present, gently laid down his head, breathed a sigh, and was at rest. His works were published in 1721, in 4 vols. 8vo., with a life by Hawkins prefixed. The Rev. W. L. Bowles has also written a life of this amiable prelate, in 2 vols. 8vo. QtcWsfyop ^anctott. BORN A.D. 1617. DIED A.D. 1693. William Sancroft, one of the most conscientious, if not one of the most able primates of England, was born at Fresingfield, in the county of Suffolk, on the 30th of January 1617. He received the rudiments of his education at Bury. At the age of eighteen, he was sent to Emanuel college, Cambridge, of which his uncle, Dr William Sancroft, was then master. In 1642, he succeeded to a fellowship in his college. The ' solemn league and covenant' was soon after this proposed to the heads and fellows of colleges, but by 'what means San croft escaped the consequences of this test, it is now impossible to de termine. He retained his fellowship, and it has been suggested that he may have succeeded in doing so through the interference of Milton, who, though not yet in public life, must have had considerable in fluence both in the house of commons and in the assembly of divines, and may have exerted himself in favour of a brother-poet, for Sancroft had also cultivated the muses, and professed himself an admirer of Milton's poetry. Soon afterwards, the use of the liturgy was prohibit ed, and public prayer, according to the directory, enjoined to be put up in every church and chapel in the kingdom. A friend advised Sancroft to yield to necessity and -conform in this case, but he replied, " I do not, indeed, count myself obliged to go to chapel and read com mon prayer till my brains be dashed out ; but to comply, by praying according to the directory, would be to throw a foul aspersion on the whole church of England since the reformation ; and shall I pray for your synod and army, or give thanks for your covenant ?" At last, in the month of July 1651, he gave proof of his sincerity by incurring the forfeiture of his fellowship rather than take the ' engagement,' as it was called. For some years after his expulsion from Cambridge, Mr Sancroft seems to have lived chiefly with his elder brother at Fresingfield. During this period he published two tracts which made considerable noise. The first a dialogue in Latin, was entitled, ' Fur Prsedestina- tus,' and was intended to hold up the doctrines of Calvinism to ridi cule ; the other, entitled ' Modern Policies, taken from Machiavel, Borgia, and other choice authors, by an eye-witness,' was a satire on the supposed fanaticism and hypocrisy of the party in power. The latter tract was but published in 1652, but passed through seven edi tions in the short space of five years. Of the ' Fur PrEedestinatus,' Sanoroft's biographer, Dr D'Oyly thus writes : " The exposure of the Period.] ARCHBISHOP SANCROFT. 189 Calvinistic doctrines was peculiarly serviceable at that time, when both the puritans and the independents, however they differed from each other on points of church discipline and government, yet concurred in maintaining those doctrines in their utmost rigour, and pushed them to the extreme of Antinomianism ; thereby obstructing the natural in fluence of Christianity on the human heart, and giving a free rein to perverse and headstrong passions. A dialogue is feigned between a thief condemned to immediate execution, and a Calvinistic preacher, who came to move him to repentance for his crimes. The thief, al though by his own acknowledgment he had lived in the commission of the worst enormities, is full of self-satisfaction ; maintains that he could not possibly act any other part than he had done, as all men, being either elect or reprobate, are predestined to happiness or misery ; that the best actions, as they are reputed, partake of so much wicked ness as to differ in no essential degree from the worst ; that sinners ful fil the will of God as much as those who most comply with his out ward commands ; and that God, as working irresistibly in all men, is the cause of the worst sins wliich they commit. He says, that he had always reflected respecting himself in this manner — that either he must be elect or reprobate ; if the former, the Holy Spirit would operate so irresistibly as to effect his conversion ; if the latter, all his care and di ligence for effecting his salvation, would rather do harm than good ; but now, he felt satisfied that he was one of the elect, who, though they may fall into grievous sins, cannot fail of salvation." In 1657, Sancroft quitted England, with an intention of taking up his residence in Holland ; but, after visiting Amsterdam, the Hague, and Utrecht, he was persuaded to accompany a friend in a tour through the south of Europe. The restoration of Charles II. having brought Sancroft back to England, he was appointed chaplain to Bishop Cosin, and preached his consecration sermon. Preferments now flowed rapidly upon4iim. In 1662 he was elected master of Emanuel college, and at the close of the year 1664, the king conferred on him the deanery of St Paul's, at the request of Sheldon, archbishop of Canter bury, and Henchman, bishop of London. While dean of St Paul's, he eagerly promoted the design for building a new church suitable to the dignity of the see ; and it was mainly through his exertions and bounty that the magnificent plan of Sir Christopher Wren was at last adopted. The first stone of the new cathedral was laid under the superintendence of Dr Sancroft as dean, but it was not completed till long after his death. On the death of Sheldon, in 1677, Dr Sancroft, much to his own surprise, as well as that of all who were acquainted with his habits, was elevated at once to the primacy. Bishop Burnet hints that San croft may have been indebted for this piece of good fortune to an opi nion which the court may have entertained of him, that he was a man more likely to be gained over to their secret wishes than any member of the existing prelacy. But of any thing like the slightest disposition on the part of Sancroft ever to temporize with popery, we most unhe sitatingly acquit him. In fact, in a sermon which he preached before the peers, soon after his elevation to the archiepiscopal chair, he attacked the Jesuitical party with a zeal and bitterness at that time peculiarly his own ; and one of the very steps which he took after his promotion, 190 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth was to solicit tlie king's permission to attempt the conversion of the duke of York from the errors of the church of Rome. The solicited permission was granted, and the prelate's address to the duke, which has been preserved, evinces how truly in earnest he was in his wish to win James over to the reformed faith and practice of the church of England. The suspension of Dr Wood, the infamous bishop of Lich field and Coventry, is also highly creditable to his integrity and zeal. When Charles was laid on his deathbed, the archbishop was summoned to attend him in his dying moments. He addressed the king in a weighty exhortation, and with much freedom of speech, but his faith fulness was lost on the wretched monarch, who preferred to have the last offices of religion administered to him by Romish priests. In 1685, on the accession of James II., Sancrbft's difficulties began. Deceived by the assurances which the king gave that he would sup= port the church as established by law, the archbishop presented to him an address in his own name, and that of the other bishops. He like wise placed the crown on his majesty's head. But it has been dis proved by Dr D'Oyly that he officiated on this occasion, without in sisting on the administration of the sacrament,- as Burnet insinuates. His refusal to act under the ecclesiastical commission whieh James issued, and his petitioning with the six bishops against reading the king's declaration for liberty 6f conscience, were acts which gave great offence at court. We have elsewhere noted the issue of this contest. When the infatuated monarch became aware of the danger of his si tuation, he sent for the archbishop in haste and earnestly besought his advice how to regain the ground which he had lost in the affections ofhis people. Sancroft complied with the request of his sovereign, and drew up ten articles for his consideration, in the last of which he firmly but respectfully stipulates for permission to attempt the conversion of the king himself from the errors of popery. James promised to listen to his advice, and commanded him to compose public prayers suited to the state of the kingdom at this critical period. On the king's first departure from his capital, Sancroft was foremost to sign the address to the prince of Orange, praying him to summon a parliament. But he had already wavered greatly as to the line of con duct which it was his duty to pursue with respect to the prince. There is extant a paper in his own handwriting, in which he discusses three ' different modes of settling the government. The first was to deelare the prince of Orange — who, at the instance of the nobility and some commoners, was administering the public affairs both civil and military — king, and solemnly to crown him. A second plan was to set up the next heir to the crown after the king's death, and to crown her. The third was, " To declare the king, by reason of his unhappy principles, and his resolution to act accordingly, incapable of the government, with which such principles are inconsistent and incompatible, and to declare the prince of Orange custos regni, who shall carry on the government in the king's right and name." To the last of these modes he gave a decided preference, reasoning on what must be done in hereditary mo narchies when the king is rendered incapable of directing the govern ment through ' delicacy,' or otherwise. Yet, though he thus seems to have made up his mind as to what should be done, he obstinately re fused to introduce the subject to the peers; and when all public tunc- Period] WILLIAM BATES. 191 tionaries were required to take an oath of allegiance to King William, he, with nine other prelates, refused to comply, pleading their previous oath to King James, his heirs, and successors. He was still, however, allowed to continue in the exercise of his metropolitical powers until the 1st of August, 1689, when he was suspended from office. On the 1st of February following, he was, with five other bishops, deprived by act of parliament, without any previous trial or censure. On the 3d of August, he finally left the metropolis, and retired to Fresing field, the place of his nativity, which he never afterwards quitted. He spent the remainder of his life in great privacy, and died on the 24th of November, 1693. We have already expressed our opinion of the integrity of this pre late's character. We think that he "gave repeated evidence ofhis readi ness to sacrifice all worldly advantage to what he believed to be his duty at the time. Yet he was not without many foibles, and even some ofthe darker traits of character. He was austere in his own life, and intolerant towards otliers. In some things too he was inconsistent. He maintained tbe doctrine of passive obedience, yet on James's first departure from his capital, the archbishop himself went from Guildhall, and having demanded and obtained the keys of the Tower, delivered them over as by order from the lords, to Lord Lucas, which, as has been1 observed in a tract attributed to Lord Somers, " would have been as real acts of lassae majestatis, if King James had not forfeited the duty and obedience of his subjects as if he had stabbed him to the heart." His literary character presents nothing very remarkable ; his style par took largely of all the common defects in the taste of the age, but is often highly terse and piquant. The archbishop's life has been recently written by Dr D'Oyly, in two volumes, octavo. iTOtam Bates, m. m. BORN A. D. 1625. DIED A. D. 1699. Dr William Bates, a distinguished puritan divine, was born Nov. 1625, in the very year that Charles I. succeeded to the throne. Nei ther his ancestry nor bis birth-place has been left on record.1 In fact, no regular account of him at all has been transmitted from his contem poraries ; a circumstance rather singular, considering the esteem which he commanded, and the eminence he reached among the men of his generation. Howe, who seems to have been longest and best acquaint ed with him, having known him, as he tells us himself, above forty years, has left us no other memorial of his friend than the funeral ser mon preached upon his death, and which, though marked with much of its author's usual power and grandeur, and sketching the character of Bates with great felicity and fulness, has scarcely even furnished us with the outlines of his life. More fortunate than some ofhis nonconforming brethren of that age, he enjoyed the advantages of a university education, and commenced his studies at Cambridge", being early admitted' to Emanuel college ; 1 See Palmer's Nonconformists' Memorial. 192 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth and, in 1644, removed to King's college, where, in 1647, he obtained his degree as Bachelor of Arts. He attached himself to the presby terian party, and early commenced the public duties of his office, in which he very speedily obtained that high popularity which attended him to the last. His first charge was that of St Dunstan's, London, where he was appointed vicar, and where he remained till ejected by the act of uniformity in 1662. While there, he united himself with several other ministers in carrying on the morning lectures in Cripple gate church. In the restoration of Charles II. he took an active part, and was soon after appointed one ofhis majesty's chaplains. In the follow ing November he received from the university of Cambridge the de gree of Doctor in divinity, by an express royal mandate. About this time too he was offered the deanery of Litchfield and Coventry, but, along with several of his brethren, who were presented with similar bribes by the court, he, from conscientious scruples, declined the offer.4 It is said, that from the high and general estimation in which he was held, he might, by conformity to the dominant church, have secured any bishopric in the kingdom. At the same time it is evident that high as he stood, he was not reckoned the first of his party ; for whilst he and Manton were offered deaneries, Baxter and Calamy had the credit of refusing bishoprics.3 In 1660 he was appointed one of the commissioners at the celebrated Savoy conference. This conference was summoned by a royal commission, and met at Savoy, the bishop of London's lodgings. Its object was " to advise upon and revise the book of common prayer.''4 It consisted of a great many commis sioners, episcopalian and presbyterian, and was carried on ^t consider-^ able length, and with great keenness of discussion ; though it termina ted altogether unsuccessfully. Baxter, in the second part of his ' Life and Times,' has left us a very clear and copious narrative of the whole ; proceedings, into which, however, it is unnecessary to enter, farther than to select a slight anecdote of Dr Bates, of whom Baxter says " he spoke very solidly, judiciously, and pertinently." Baxter had said something in the course of debate, which Bishop Morley, the most vehement and unreasonable of his party, interpreted to mean, " that a man might be for some time without sin;" " upon which," says Baxter, " he sounded out his aggravation of this doctrine, and then cried tu Dr Bates, What say you, Dr Bates, is this your opinion ? saith Ur Bates, I believe we are all sinners, but I pray, my lord, give him leave to speak." s In 1662 he was deprived of his charge in London by the celebrated;; 1 ' act of uniformity ;' and though never, like many of his brethren, cast into prison, nor subjected to such severe privations as most of them endured, yet he had much to undergo and to endure. Once when called to a deathbed along with Baxter, he was most providentially prevented from attending, though ignorant ofthe real danger he would have been exposed to from his enemies, -who had stationed officers at the sick woman's house to seize him. In 1 665 he took the oath im posed by the Oxford parliament, " that they would not, at any time, " Baxters Life and Times, part ii. p. 283. " Burnet's Hist, ofhis own Times, vol. i. p. 303. Baxter's Life and Times, partii. p. 304. — Burnet's own Times vol. i. p. E94s 0 Baxter, part ii. p. 337. r Period.] WILLIAM BATES. 193 endeavour an alteration in the government of church or state.'' In this he was joined by about twenty of his brethren, who, acting upon the interpretation given of it by the Lord Keeper Bridgeman, whom Bates consulted upon the point, ' came in at the sessions,' as Baxter tells us, and took the oath. Among the chief of those who followed him upon this occasion were Howe and Poole ; and among those who stood out was Baxter, who could by no means be persuaded of the soundness of the Lord Keeper's explanation, " that by endeavours was meant unlawful endeavour," and who, therefore, notwithstanding a long letter from Dr Bates upon the subject, steadily persisted in his refusal, thinking the reasons contained in that letter by no means sufficient " to enervate the force of the objections to the oath, or to solve the dif ficulties."6 In the beginning ofthe year 1668, some ofthe more mo derate prelatists endeavoured to effect some sort of ' comprehension,' as it was called, by which, upon certain terms, the Dissenters might be admitted into the church. In this Dr Bates was actively concerned along with Manton and Baxter, on the presbyterian side. But the scheme met with such violent opposition from the leading prelates of the day, that it fell to "the ground.7 A little after this, we find him presenting, along with some of his brethren, an address to the king for the relief of the nonconformists ; but though they were received most graciously, nothing was done, and as Baxter says, ' after all, they were as before.' Again, in 1674, we find him engaged in another fruitless attempt to secure some privileges to his brethren. Tillotson and Stil lingfleet sought an interview with him, and some other nonconforming ministers ; the scheme was proposed, and the terms drawn up ; but through the inveterate opposition of some of the more violent of the bishops, the attempt ended as the others had done. The accession of James II. to the throne by no means diminished the sufferings ofthe pu ritans. Upon several of them this event brought fresh hardships and trials. Among these was Baxter, and one ofthe most interesting scenes in tbe whole of that interesting and eventful period, is the narrative of his trial before Jefferies, when, attended by Dr- Bates, he faced un moved the brutal threats and profane ribaldry of that perverter of jus tice and persecutor of the saints. The whole scene is far too long for transcription here : the few sentences that refer to the subject of this memoir is all that is required. " Richard, Richard," exclaimed Jef feries, interrupting Baxter in his defence, " dost thou tliink we'll hear thee poison the court ? Richard, thou art an old fellow, an old knave ; thou hast written books enough to load a cart, every one as full of se dition as an egg is full of meat. . . .* I know thou hast a mighty party, and I see a great many of the brotherhood incomers waiting to see what will become of their mighty don ; and a Doctor of the party, (looking to Dr Bates,) at your elbow; but by the grace of Almighty God, I'll crush you all '" s At the accession of William, he presented the address of the Dissenters to their majesties ; and ever after, till the day of his death, enjoyed the esteem and confidence of both king and queen. During the latter part of his life he was minister of a congre gation at Hackney. He died there in 1699, aged 74. While residing there we meet with the following incident, narrated by Calamy, whicli 6 Baxter, Life and Times, part iii. p. J3, 15.— Buvnet, vol. i. p. 373. ' Baxter, ibid., p. 36. 8 Orme's Life of Baxter, p. 368. iv. 2 u 194 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXTl* is introduced here as being interesting in a literary way. A French minister, a refugee from the persecutions of the duke of Savoy, came over to England. Dr Bates being desirous to see him, asked Calamy to bring him to Hackney. When he was introduced, " he made a very handsome speech to the Doctor in Latin;" not one word of which the Doctor could understand, till Calamy interpreted. The Doctor then replied in Latin also, but not one word of his answer could Monsieur Amald comprehend till Calamy explained. The reason of this may be seen in our own day ; when the English and foreign pronunciation of Latin are still as much at variance as ever ; and this, as Calamy re marks, " shows the inconvenience of our using a different pronuncia tion of the Latin tongue from what is common among foreigners." 9 He did not outlive his usefulness; but in spite ofthe growing infirm ities of which he himself tells us in his funeral sermon for Dr Jaconib, preached and laboured to the last, a circumstance too common to be remarked in these days, but most unaccountably uncommon in ours. He seems to have been the intimate friend of Tillotson and Stilling fleet, who were men like himself, moderate and pacific in their church principles. He was in all respects a superior man, and entitled to stand high in the ranks of nonconformity. In person he is said to have been handsome, or as Howe terms, it in his funeral sermon for him, — '.' of a self-recommending aspect, composed of gravity and pleasant ness, with a graceful mien, and calmness of person." His character was amiable, his talents high, his learning extensive, his judgment clear and sound, and his memory remarkably; strong. His works are by no means numerous or large, being originally comprised in one fo lio volume, and of late years modernized into four octavos. His lar gest work is his ' Harmony of the Divine Attributes,' which seems to have been intended for a system of divinity, and which, along with his discourses upon the existence of God, immortality of the soul, truth of the Christian religion, forms one of the compactest and com- pletest systems of theology of which that period can boast. It is the production of a man of shrewd judgment and acute thought. Like Leighton among the Scotch divines, he seems to have risen su perior to most of his contemporaries, in the adoption of a sounder philosophy, and the rejection of that abstruse and futile metaphysics which disfigured the writings of that age. His style is clear and po lished, more of a modern air than any of his brethren, excepting Char- nock. It is light and full of imagery ; tasteful, but by no means powerful ; attractive rather than impressive. He is said to have studied poetry and light literature ; and a number of romances were found in his library at his death. He was an admirer of Cowley ; and from some passages we would be tempted to believe he had studied Jeremy Taylor. There is far more compression and terseness in Bates than in Taylor ; but by no means a dissimilarity in their general tone of style. But the divine whom he most resembles is Leighton. Like him his style is short and elegant rather than fluent and nervous. Like him he had abandoned the scholastic divisions and subdivisions in his disr courses ; and like him, almost nothing that wears the air of controversy is to be met with in his works. In this he most strikingly differed from f Calamy's Life, vol i. p. gig. Period.] BISHOP STILLINGFLEET. 195 Baxter, who, though as eager and unremitting in his endeavours after peace and agreement, yet more than any other man mingled in the controversies of the day, and threw the colour of his public life over every practical treatise that he penned. Perhaps the most elegant of Bates' works, is his treatise entitled, ' The Four Last Things — Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell, practically considered and applied, in several discourses.' The discourses are admirable specimens of sound and practical theology, conveyed in an elegant and most attractive style. Any one, however, who reads it carefully, will find, that some of his best passages are just the expansion of ideas picked up in the course of an extensive study of the fathers. The same remark, in deed, applies to all his works. His treatises on ' Divine Meditation,' and on ' The Fear of God ;' ' Spiritual Perfection ;' and a few minor ones upon practical subjects, are excellent — but by no means to be classed among his best performances. His piece upon the ' Saints everlasting Rest in Heaven,' though a superior work, and well worthy of a perusal, will never bear comparison either with Baxter's ' Saints' Rest,' or Howe's ' Blessedness of the Righteous.' Besides all these practical works, he was the editor of a collection of lives of distinguish ed individuals, amounting to thirty-two, in Latin ; a volume of great value, and now rather scarce. In Howe's sermon upon his death, his character is drawn with a fulness which it is impossible to transcribe, and with an exactness and felicity which it is impossible to abridge or imitate. Mizljop MMtnstlttti BORN A. D. 1633. DIED A. D. 1699. Edward Stillingfleet was descended from the ancient family of the Stillingfleets of Stillingfleet, about four miles from York. He was the seventh son of Samuel Stillingfleet and Susannah, daughter of Ed ward Norris, Esq., after whom he was named. He was born, April 17th, 1635, at Cranbourne, Dorsetshire, where he first enjoyed the in structions of Mr Thomas Garden, and from whence he was removed to Ringwood, Hampshire, to be placed under the tuition of Mr Baulch, whose school having been founded by W. Lynne, Esq., enjoyed the privilege of having some of its scholars elected to exhibitions at the universities. This honour young Stillingfleet attained soon after he had entered his 14th year, and was admitted into St John's college, Cambridge, under the tuition of Mr Pickering, one of the Fellows. At the age of eighteen, he took the degree of B. A. and soon after obtained a fellow ship, being already distinguished for his diligent application and emir nent attainments. Soon after this period, he withdrew for a time from the university, and resided in the family of Sir Roger Burgoyne, at Wroxall, in Warwickshire, who subsequently became his patron, and introduced him to a considerable living. As soon as he was of suf ficient standing, he took his degree of M. A., and became tutor in the family of Francis Pierpoint, Esq. brother of the marquess of Dorchester. It was at this period that he wrote and published his ' Irenicum, or Weapon-Salve for the church's wounds,' 1659. It was designed to 196 ecclesiastical series. [Sixth reconcile dissenters, but it had the effect of offending many of the author's friends in the church, and of supplying the dissenters with a weapon against himself, on a subsequent occasion. He had, previously to this publication, obtained the rectory of Sutton, Bedfordshire. It is certain that he greatly differed in future years from himself when he wrote this work ; and the best proof of it is given in the dedication of the ordination sermon at St Peter's, Cornhill, 1685 ; and, also at p. 148, of Several Conferences between a Popish Priest, a Fanatic Chaplain,' &c. where, in the person of P. D., he speaks freely of it, and says, " I be lieve there are many things in it, which, if Dr Stillingfleet were. to. write now, he would not have said : for there are some which show his youth and want of due consideration ; others which he yielded too far, in hopes of gaining the dissenting parties to the church of England." His treatise, however, he republished in 1662, with an Appendix, con cerning the power of excommunication. The same year he published his ' Origines Sacrse, or a rational account of Natural and Revealed Religion.' This was a work of great merit from so young a man, and induced Bishop Sanderson to say, when Stillingfleet was first introduced to him, that " he expected to have seen one as considerable for his age, as he had already shown himself for learning." Soon after this period, he was selected, as a proper person, to reply to ' Labyrinthus Cantauri- ensis,' a work written by T. C. against Laud's answer to Fisher the Jesuit. This work, together with the work on ' The Origin and Na ture of Protestantism,' appeared before the end of the 1664, and greatly , . increased the reputation of Stillingfleet, and recommended him to the notice of Sir Harbottle Grimstone, master of the Rolls, who appointed! him to the office of preacher at the Roll's chapel. This he held with his living at Sutton, but was soon after presented by the earl of South ampton, lord-treasurer, to the vacant rectory of St Andrew's, Holborn. After this, he was made preacher at the Temple. These offices intro duced him to «the acquaintance of Sir Matthew Hale and Judge Vaughan, and afterwards to the honourable station of chaplain to King Charles II. Hence he was still farther elevated to be a canon-resi dentiary, both of St Paul's and Canterbury. His fame still increasing with his promotion, he rose to be dean of St Paul's, and archdeacon of London. While rector of Sutton, he had married Andrea, the eldest daughter of W. Debyns, Esq. of Wormington, Gloucestershire, by whom he had two daughters, who died in infancy ; and one son, Edward, who Decame D. D., and incumbent of Wood- Norton, Norfolk. His first wife dying, he married, some years after, Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Nicolas Pedley ; by whom he had seven children, of whom only two survived him, viz. the Rev. James Stillingfleet, who became prebendary of Worcester, and Anne who married Humphrey Tyshe, Esq. of Gray's Inn. In the year 1 663, he became B. D., and in 1668, he kept a public act at Cambridge with great ability, and then proceeded D. D. In the year 1669, he published some sermons, one of wliich ' Concerning the sufferings of Christ,' made a considerable noise, and excited much controversy. The volume containing his sermons was subsequently enriched by an able ' Discourse on the true reasons of the sufferings of Christ.' After his death, there was also printed a continuation of this controversy, occasioned by some letters from dissenting ministers. Period.] BISHOP STILLINGFLEET. 197 This was entitled, a ' Second Part.' After this, he published his work on the ' Idolatry, &c. of the Church of Rome ;' and followed that up by replies to many opponents, and particularly to the author of ' The Guide in Controversies,' and Dr Godden. For some time he was sharply en gaged with many popish adversaries, and produced various controver sial tracts against them, of great learning and ability. But, in 1680, he was appointed to preach at Guildhall chapel before the judges and lord mayor, &c. ; and this sermon, entitled ' The Mischief of Separation,' drew forth, a new host of antagonists of a different sort. Owen, Baxter, and several others, attacked him, but the most witty of his opponents was Vincent Alsop. They all considered that his late sermon was a grievous departure from the comparatively liberal principles of his ' Irenicum.' To these several authors he subsequently replied in a goodly quarto, entitled ' The Unreasonableness of Separation.' This appeared in 1683 ; and in 1685 appeared the greatest of all his works, the ' Origines Britannicse, or Antiquities of the Churches in Britain.' About this period, the protestant cause seemed to be environed with perils, and the church in great danger of again lapsing into popery. Stillingfleet, however, stood forward on many occasions with his pen, and rendered eminent service to the cause of truth by his various publications, of which it is not easy to give a full account. The Re volution, however, happily rescued the church and the nation from the dangers to which both had been exposed, and upon the accession of King William, Dean Stillingfleet was made bishop of Worcester. Soon after this event, he again entered the lists with the Socinians, in a ser mon preached at St Lawrence, Jewry. Upon this sermon an attack was made three years after in a work entitled, ' Considerations and Expli cations of the Doctrine of the Trinity,' &c. To this he replied by re publishing his former discourse against Crellius, with the obnoxious ser mon, preceded by a long preface, concerning ' the true state of the controversy ;' and the same year he followed this up by a discourse in vindication of the doctrine of the Trinity, with an answer to the Socinian objections. In this vindication, he had made some observations on Mr Locke's ' Essay on the Human Understanding,' to which Locke replied. Several letters passed between them, and Locke is generally allowed to have had the better of the argument. After he became bishop of- Worcester, he wrote and published various charges and discourses to the clergy, all of which display great talents and much learning in ca non law, &c. In his bishopric he was involved in much trouble, by his attempts to enforce the discipline of the church upon the clergy. The celebrated Dr Bentley became his chaplain, and was much indebted to the bishop's patronage, and greatly resembled him in being a leader of controversies, though of a very different order from those ofthe bishop. Two years before his own death, Dr Stillingfleet lost his second wife. He had continued in his bishopric about ten years, when his health rapidly declined, and he died in London of the common complaint of sedentary men, — a disease of the stomach. His death took place at his own house in Park-street, Westminster, March 27th, 1699. He was interred in his own cathedral church ; where a handsome monument was erected to his memory, which is graced by an elegant Latin in scription from the pen of the celebrated Dr Bentley. Bishop Stillingfleet may be justly considered pne of the ablest pole- 198 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth mics of his age. In some things he is thought to have diverged iii later life from the more tolerant aud liberal opinions of his earlier days. But, as a scholar and divine, he may be said to have risen gradually, even in times of great excitement, to a measure of influence and fame which few ofhis contemporaries ever reached. His antiquarian researches are of the highest value, and will maintain for him a lasting niche in the temple of fame, whatever should be the fate of his theological treatises. . Unhappily for the reputation of his controversial writings, many of their subjects are now become obsolete ; and those which relate to topics of more general interest to the christian church, are superseded by modern works more adapted to the taste of the times, and undoubtedly- more logical, though less erudite. In his private character he is des cribed as amiable and liberal ; but in his official station he is charged with sufficient loftiness and severity. There can be no doubt that he justly deserves the distinction assigned him, of being one of the most learned and able divines ofthe church of England, and one ofthe most successful defenders of the reformed doctrines. His works are collected into six folio volumes. Alitor ^egtooofc. BORN A. D. 1629. — DIED A. D. 1702. Oliver Heywood, the sixth child of Richard and Alice Heywood, the representatives of an ancient family in the north of England, was born at Little Lever, in the county of Lancaster, in 1629. in his eighteenth year he was admitted to Trinity college, Cambridge, where he had a pious though somewhat eccentric tutor in Mr Akhurst, and en joyed the pastoral ministrations of Dr Hammond, at that time preachi*1- in St Giles's. He does not appear to have pursued his literary studies,! at Cambridge with much ardour. He says of himself at that period;;' " All the time I was in the university, my heart was much deadened in philosophical studies ; nor could t, as I desired, apply my mind so closely to human literature, though I prize learning above all sublunary excellencies. I might have been more useful had I improved my time better therein. My time and thoughts," he adds, " were most employed on practical divinity, and experimental truths were most vivifying to my soul : I preferred Perkins, Bolton, Preston, and Sibbs, far above Aristotle or Plato." In 1650, he accepted an invitation from a presbyterian congregation at Coley, near Halifax, to become their pastor. After he had laboured for several years in this obscure situation, the vicarage of Preston was offered to him by Sir Richard Houghton ; but, with that singleness of heart which ever marked the whole conduct of this amiable man, he ; ¦' respectfully declined the preferment, believing that Coley presented a : field of greater usefulness to him. The political agitations of the times occasionally reached even to Heywood's retreat. He adhered to the king's party, and was conse- j quently viewed with suspicion by the adverse side. On one occasion , he was even imprisoned by a party of Colonel Lilburn's men, but no , charge against him could be substantiated. Period.] OLIVER HEYWOOD. 199 The Restoration was of course regarded as a most auspicious event by the pastor of Coley; but the proceedings of Charles and his minions soon convinced him that whatever political blessings might flow to the country from the re-establishment ofthe monarchy, the spiritual interests of the people were not to be benefited by the change. Heywood him self was one of the first to suffer from the virulence of the high church party. He was repeatedly threatened with suspension on account of his refusal to read the book of common-prayer in his church services ; but his prudence and well-known loyalty protected him for a while against extreme measures. At last an order for his suspension was issued by the archbishop's chancellor ; and this measure, harsh as it was, was fol lowed by a still severer and more unjustifiable one. On the 22d of November, 1662, excommunication was published against him at Hali fax, and he was solemnly forbidden to enter within the walls of any ehurch within the diocese, on any occasion whatever. For some time he quietly submitted to the tyrannous edict, and refrained from preach ing either in public or private. At last he awoke to a better sense of duty, and saw it to be incumbent on him to obey God rather than man. He now preached as he had opportunity, and many gladly availed themselves of his ministrations. The ' Conventiele Act,' as it was called, was ultimately much evaded by the partial connivance of the authorities with whom its enforcement rested. Under this relaxation of severity, Heywood was enabled occa sionally to preach to his old people at Coley. But information having been laid against him, his goods were distrained, and he avoided im prisonment with difficulty. It was at length confessed by the court that " there was very little fruit of all these forcible methods which had been used for reducing erring and dissenting persons." On the 15th of March, 1672, a declaration of liberty to all persons dissenting from the established church was issued by royal authority. The laws affecting dissenters, however, were not repealed, but only suspended, and the declaration itself was a stretch of tbe royal prerogative. Heywood now removed to North Owram, where he organized a christian society on the general principles of Presbyterianism, but so modified as to admit ofthe communion of Christians of other denom inations. The recall of the royal license, in the following year, again drove Heywood from his public ministrations. He continued, how ever, to preach privately until apprehended and committed to York castle in 1685. On the appearance of King James's declaration for general liberty of conscience, Heywood walked out of prison and resumed his pastoral labours, which he prosecuted with great fervour of spirit and signal success, till within a short time of his death. He died on the 4th of May, 1702. The Rev. J. Fawcett, and the Rev. R. Slate, have each written memoirs of this most amiable and exemplary iron-conformist divine. 200 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth* $0$tt $?ofoe, fSLQL BORN A.D- 1680. — DIED A.D. 1705. John Howe, the son of the Rev. Mr Howe, minister of the town of Loughborough in Leicestershire, was born May 17th, 1630, The living of this parish was given to Mr Howe by Archbishop Laud, and afterwards taken from him by the same person on account of the leaning he manifested to the principles of the puri tans. After 'his ejectment from this parish, Mr Howe removed with his family to Ireland, but was shortly after obliged to return to his native country by the war which was raised against the pro testants, and which raged for several years. On the return of the family to England they settled in Lancashire, and there Mr John Howe received his early education, but no memorial has been preserved either of the place in which, nor the persons by whom, he was instructed. He was sent at an early age to Christ college, Cambridge, where he pursued his studies with great diligence, and acquired the friendship of Dr Henry More, and Dr Ralph Cudw'orth, of whose characters and talents he became a warm admirer. The intimacy which Mr Howe contracted with these distinguished philosophers is thought to have been the source of that tincture of Platonic philosophy which is ob servable in his writings. At Cambridge Mr Howe continued till he took the degree of B. A., when he removed to Brazen-nose, Oxford. There he became Bible clerk in 1648, and took his bachelor's degree in 1649. He distinguished himself by great diligence and high attain ments, and was at length elected fellow of Magdalene college. Here he enjoyed the friendship and constant society of some ofthe most dis tinguished men of the university and of the age. In 1652 he took the degree of M. A., and soon after was ordained by Mr Charles Herle1 at Warwick in Lancashire, assisted by several ministers employed in chapelries in Mr Herle's parish. Mr Howe used to refer to his ordi nation with great satisfaction, saying, that he thought few in modern times had enjoyed so primitive an ordination. Mr Howe was first settled at Great Torrington in the county of Devon, where his ministry was much esteemed and extensively success ful. In March, 1654, he married the daughter of Mr George Hughes of Plymouth, a minister of great influence and reputation in that part of the country. With him Mr Howe kept up a weekly correspondence in Latin. A singular anecdote is related of this correspondence. A fire broke out in Mr Howe's habitation at Torrington, which at one time threatened the destruction of the house and of all the property it contained. But a violent rain came on which mainly contributed to extinguish the fire before it had done much injury. On that very day Mr Howe received one ofthe Latin letters from his father-in-law, which concluded with this singular prayer : Sit ros catli super habitaculum vestrum — " may the dew of heaven be upon your dwelling." This singu- j 1 This Mi- Charles Herle was a very distinguished man in. his day, and after the death of Dr Twisse, was chosen prolocutor to the Westminster Assembly of divines Period.] JOHN HOWE. 201 lar coincidence so wholly beyond the foresight of human minds, made a deep impression upon all the parties interested, and was especially marked with devout gratitude by Mr Howe. The circumstances connected with his introduction to Cromwell when protector are especially worthy of the reader's notice. Mr Howe had some business which called him to London. Being there, he was detained longer than he expected, and having one, and only one Sun day to remain in town, his curiosity led him to the chapel at Whitehall: The protector, who was present, and who was generally observant of all persons about him, perceived the stranger, and suspecting that he was a country minister, watched him narrowly. Being much struck with his appearance, and persuaded that he was no ordinary man, he sent a messenger to say that he desired, after the conclusion of the ser vice, to speak with him. Mr Howe, not a little surprised at being thus unexpectedly summoned to appear before the protector, nevertheless obeyed. After some inquiries as to who he was, and whence he came, Cromwell desired that he would preach before him the next Sunday. Mr Howe endeavoured to excuse himself, modestly declining the honour. But Cromwell told him it was a vain thing to attempt to excuse him self, for that he would take no denial. Mr Howe pleaded that having despatched his business in town, he was tending homewards, and could not be absent any longer without inconvenience. Cromwell inquired what damage he. was liable to sustain, by tarrying a little longer. Mr Howe replied, that his people, who were very kind to him, would be uneasy, and think he neglected them, and slighted their respect. Crom well promised to write to them himself, and send down one to supply his place ; and actually did so ; and Mr Howe stayed and preached as he was desired : and when he had given him one sermon, Cromwell still pressed for a second and a third ; and at last after a great deal of free conversation in private, nothing would serve him (who could not bear to be contradicted, after he had once got the power into his hands,) but he must have him to be his household chaplain, and he would take care his place should be supplied at Torrington to the full satisfaction of his people. Mr .Howe did all that lay in his power to excuse him self and get off; but no denial would be admitted. And at length (though not without great reluctance) he was prevailed with to comply, and remove with his family to Whitehall, where several of his children were born : and in this difficult station he endeavoured to be faithful, and to keep a good conscience. Dtiring Mr Howe's residence at White hall we find him lecturer at St Margaret's, Westminster, where he was greatly esteemed as a preacher, and highly respected for the urbanity, moderation, and uniform consistency of his conduct. While he held the situation of chaplain he employed his influence with the protector on behalf of .good men of all parties, and- was especially serviceable to Dr Seth Ward, afterwards bishop of Exeter and Salisbury. Indeed Mr Howe lost no opportunity of promoting the interests of religion and learning. Cromwell once said to him, in allusion to his frequent appli cations, — " You have obtained many favours for others, but I wonder when the time is to come that you will move for any thing for your self and family." " A plain argument," says Calamy, " that he took him for a very disinterested person, and as free from selfishness as he was from partiality." iv. 2 c 202 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth Although Mr Howe enjoyed a considerable share qf the protector^ favour, yet he was not afraid to risk it. in the cause of itruth. He ob served, what he considered to be a fanatical opinion respeqting faith in the efficacy of prayer, and an enthusiastical notion of the impression made on the minds of such as prayed tha.t their prayers would he answered, whatever they, might ask, and that this notion was a favourite one with the protector, and had been publicly taught by one preacher of note at Whitehall. He, therefore, determined publicly to .oppose it, when it came to his turn to preach again before the protector. He accordingly did so, and observed that Cromwell listened with great at tention, and would sometimes knit his brows and discover great uneasi ness. Mr Calamy says, " Mr Howe told me, that when the sermon was over, a person of distinction came to him, and asked him if he knew what he had done — that Cromwell would be so incensed upon that dis? course, that he (Mr H.) would find it difficult ever to m^kehis peace with him, or secure his favour for the future." Mr Howe replied, " that he had but done his duty, and could leave the event with God." It appears, however, that though Cromwell became, or Mr Howe ; thought he became, cooler to him than formerly, yet he no. other wise,'; expressed his dissatisfaction, and Mr Howe himself never had cause to regret what he had done. It is no little credit to the protector, that he continued his favours to Mr Howe, and never appeared further to withdraw that confidence he had reposed in him, although he had so boldly attacked a favourite opinion. This is what few persons iu his exalted station would have done, and evinces a high respect for the sacredness of die ministerial office. In pur opinion this anecdote is al most equally honourable to the magnanimity of both parties. Mr Howe continued in his situation of chaplain at Whitehall till the death of Cromwell. After that event he was continued in the same situation by Richard Cromwell, and was present at the assembly of congregational ministers held at the Savoy, when they discussed the confession of their faith. He took no conspicuous part in the politics ' of that period, any more than in those of former times, but endeavoured to preserve his mind steadily fixed on his professional engagements. It is recorded of him, however, that he was decidedly opposed to Richard's dissolving his parliament at the instigation of the council of officers,— -foreseeing, as he said he clearly did, that it would prove his ruin. After the deposition of Richard Cromwell, Mr Howe returned to his former charge at Great Torrington, where he continued quietly and zealously discharging his pastoral duties until the restoration.. After tlmt event he soon began tp feel the hand of oppression and per secution. But on the passing of the act of uniformity, he was ejected from hjs living and exposed to much hardship. Some time after, falling aqcidentally into the company of the learned Dr Wilkins, bishop oj Chester, who held Mr Howe in great esteem, tbe doctor told him the act of uniformity had produced consequences at which he was a little surprised : some, he observed, whom he should have thought too stiff and rigid ever to have fallen in with the establishment, had conformed, while others, whom he thought possessed sufficient latitude to conform, had stood put and continued non-conformists ; and he intimated to Mr Howe, that he took him to be of the latter description. Among other observations Mr Howe replied, that his latitude of which the doctor Period.] JOHN HOWE. 203 had been pleased to take notice, was so far from inclining him to con formity, that it was the very thing that made him and kept him a non conformist. After his ejectment Mr' Howe continued' for some time to reside in the neighbourhood ofhis late charge, preaching vvheii opportunity offered in the private houses of his friends. On one of these occasions, upon his return home from a visit to a gentleman's house where he had been spending some days, he was informed that an officer from the bishop's court had been to inquire after him, and had left word that there was a citation out, both against himself and the gentleman at whose house he had been preaching. Upon this, the next morning he rode to Exeter, and soon after alighting from his horse, a dignified clergyman, who was acquainted with him, saw him in the street, and expressed much sur prise at seeing him there, telling him that a process was out against him, and that as he was so well known he did not doubt but he would soon be apprehended. He then asked bim whether he would not him self wait upon the bishop. J3ut Mr Howe thought it best not to do so unless the bishop should hear that he was there and send for him. Up on this the clergyman said he would wait upon the bishop, and soon re turn with an intimation of what would be acceptable to his lordship. Accordingly he soon returned with an intimation that the bishop would be glad to see him. When he arrived at the palace, the bishop received hiin as an old acquaintance with great civility, and after expostulating with him on his non-conformity, which Mr Howe defended, he urged him to enter the church, assuring him that be might have considerable! preferments, and at length he dismissed him in a very friendly manner. As the bishop took no notice of the process which had been issued, so neither, did Mr Howe, but taking his horse, rode home, and heard no more of the matter, either in reference to himself, or the gentleman at whose house he had officiated. Several years now passed away, during which Mr Howe, and many ofhis brethren, were much harassed, and occasionally imprisoned. At length, in 1671, he accepted the office of' chaplain to Lord Massarehe, who lived at Antrim in Ireland. He, therefore, removed thither with his family and was treated with great respect. His great learning, talents, and piety, soon procured him the friendship of the bishop of that diocese, together with the favour of the metropolitan, both of whom gave him liberty to preach in the church at Antrim as often as he pleased, without conforming to the peculiarities of the Church of Eng land. He continued about four years in this situation, when he' re ceived an invitation to succeed Dr Lazarus Seaman in the charge of his congregation at Silver-streat, London. This invitation he embraced,' and in 1675 removed to London. Here he made a peaceable use of King Charles's indulgence, preaching to a considerable and judicibhs auditory; by whom he was most fondly esteemed. During' this' period he had the happiness not only of being beloved by his'own brethren, but of being highly respected by such men as Doctors Tillotson, Whichcot, Kidder, Fowler, and Lucas, with many others. In 1680, a bill was brought into parliament for " uniting his majesty's protestant subjects," which seemed to promise a liberal comprehension. With this view Bishop Lloyd sent Mr Howe an invitation to dine with him ; but, being engaged, he next invited him to meet him at the house of 204 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth Dean Tillotson. They accordingly all met, had a conversation, and agreed to meet again the next evening at the house of Dean Stilling fleet. But the bill of exclusion being that evening thrown out of the house of peers, the bishop absented himself, and there was no further talk of comprehension. Dr Tillotson that year was called to preach before the king, and in the course of his sermon maintained " that no man is obliged to preach against the religion of a country, though a false one, unless he has a power of working miracles." The king slept during the greater part of the discourse. As soon as it was over, a dis tinguished nobleman stepped up to the king, and said, " 'Tis a pity your majesty slept, for we have had the rarest piece of Hobbism that ever you heard in your life." — " Odds fish, he shall print it then P' said the king, and immediately directed the Lord Chamberlain to communicate his will to the dean. When it came from the press, Dr Tillotson, as was usual with him, presented a copy to Mr Howe, who, on the perusal was not a little concerned to find that Dr Tillotson entertained so per nicious a sentiment. He therefore drew un a long letter, in which he freely expostulated with the dean, for givmg such a wound to the Re formation, and went himself to present his letter. Upon the sight of him, and an understanding of the purport of the visit, the dean pro posed a short journey into the country, that they might talk the matter over without interruption. They accordingly agreed to dine that day"; with Lady Falconbridge, at Sutton Court ; and Mr Howe, in their way thither, read over his letter to the dean. At length the good doctor fell to weeping freely, saying, "This was the most unhappy; thing that had of a long time befallen him." He owned that what he had asserted was not to be maintained ; and urged in his excuse, that he had but a short notice to preach, and none to print the sermon. This anecdote places the character of both these good men in a very amiable light. The dissenters were exposed to very severe and general persecution some few years before the revolution. In consequence of these troubles' Mr Howe relinquished his public labours, and accepted an invitation from Lord Wharton to accompany him on his travels through several foreign countries. In the. course of these journeys he visited the prin cipal continental nations, and enjoyed the advantage of intercourse with many learned foreigners, both catholic and protestant. In 1686 he gave up the prospect of returning to his native country, considering that its prospects were in all respects growing darker. He therefore-'-' settled at Utrecht, and took his turn in preaching at the English*. church in that city. Here also he engaged in assisting some, of the ' English students to prosecute their sti»dies at that university. His residence at Utrecht is said to have brought him into acquaintance with > many eminent English men who had withdrawn from the troubles which agitated, or which threatened their native country. Here he became acquainted with Dr Burnet, afterwards bishop of Salisbury. Once conversing with the doctor freely upon various subjects, Burnet called his attention to non-conformity, observing, that in his opinion it could not last long ; but that when Mr Baxter, Dr Bates, himself, and a few more, were laid in their graves, it would sink and come to no thing. In reply, Mr Howe observed, that he was led to entertain just the contrary opinion, in consequence of its depending not upon persons; , PE1"on] JOHN HOWE. 205 but principles, which, when approved of after serious and sincere in quiry, could not be laid aside by men of conscience. While Mr Howe continued in Holland he was admitted to frequent audiences with the prince of Orange, afterwards William III. who con versed familiarly with him, and ever after retained for him a peculiar degree of respect. Upon the declaration issued by King James in favour of liberty of conscience, in 1687, Mr Howe returned to England and resumed his ministerial labours, although he openly declared against the king's dispensing power. In the discharge of his pastoral duties he continued to enjoy the liberty illegally conceded, till the revolution placed the rights of dissenters upon a firmer basis than royal will. After the revolution he enjoyed some considerable influence at court, and was frequently admitted to familiar intercourse by King William. He appears, however, never to have intermeddled needlessly with public affairs. His studies, his various publications, and the duties of his pastoral office fully occupied his time, and demanded all the energies he could devote to them. He lived to enjoy the repose and liberty which the revolution brought with it, seventeen years, and part of these was consumed in a succession of painful disorders. He died in 1705, at the age of seventy-five. Mr Howe was tall and grace ful in his person. " He had- a piercing but pleasant eye ; and there was something in his aspect that indicated uncommon greatness, and excited veneration. His intellectual accomplishments were of the first order. Those who are acquainted with his writings will discover great abstractedness of thought, strong reasoning, and a penetrating judg ment. Even Wood, the Oxonian, who seldom had a good word for a non-conformist, passes a high encomium upon Mr Howe." There are indeed few of the divines of any school who displayed so many excel lencies and so few defects. His works may be classed among the very first, both for eloquence and depth of judgment. " His ministerial qualifications were very extraordinary. He could preach extempore with as great exactness as many others upon the closest study. His sermons, which were always delivered without notes, were often of un common depth, especially at the beginning, but were plain in the sequel, and towards the close generally came home with great force to the consciences of his hearers." His works, which are numerous, have been all published in 6 vols. 8vo, with a life. The several treatises, letters, sermons, &c. are too numerous to be here detailed. They have been the admiration of learned men of all parties, and are to the present day perhaps among the most choice writings of the old divines. His reputation will suffer in comparison with no theologian of his own age, nor indeed of any other. Mr Granger speaks of him as one of the most learned and polite writers among the dissenters, and says there is an uncommon depth of thought in several ofhis works. Dr Doddridge observes, " he seems to have understood the gospel as well as any uninspired writer ; and to have imbibed as much of its spirit. The truest sublime is to be found in his writings, and some of the strongest pathos. He has a great variety of uncommon thoughts ; and on the whole, is one of the most valuable writers in our language, and, I believe, in the world." L 1 Life by Calamy. Wilson's Dissenting Church, vol. III. p. 29. 206 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXTH ©fjomas #ale, &. 9; BORN A.D. 1634.— DIED A.D. 1702; This learned divine was born in the year 1634, at Scruton in York- shire. He was educated at Westminster school, from which he removed to Cambridge- where he continued several years, became a fellow of Trinity-college, and afterwards Greek professor in that- university; :' How long he continued in this situation is uncertain ; but in the1 year' 1672 he was chosen head-master of St Paul's school, and soon after had the honour to be named by the city to compose those inscriptions''en- graved upon the Monument, which have been so much censured and celebrated, for which he was, by the corporation of London, rewarded' with a piece of plate. In the year 1676 he received a more ample re muneration, for he was made a prebendary of St Paul's, being one of those termed consumpt. per mare. Dr Gale hadj as soon as he was qualified, taken the degree of doctor of divinity ; he was also chosen a fellow of the royal' society. About the year 1697 he made a donation to the new library of Trinity-college of a great number of Arabic manuscripts. Having continued head-mas ter of St Paul's school twenty-five years, he, in the same year, 16<97, was' preferred 'to the deanery of the metropolitan church of York, in which situation his piety, hospitality, and benevolence, we're equally; conspicuous ; as was also his care for, and gpod government ofthe chap-tjj ter, and his assiduity in repairing and beautifying that venerable ca thedral. Dr Gale did not long enjoy the elevated station to which his merits had raised 'him; He died at his deanery, April 8th, 1702, leaving-be- < hind him the character of a learned divine, a great historian and and-" ' quary, and one ofthe best Grecians of his'time. The several works which he published are equal evidences of his in defatigable industry and erudition, as the following catalogue of them1 will evince : — ' Herodoti Halliearnassei Historiarum, lib. .9 ;' ' Iambli-' chus de Mysteriis .ZEgyptiorum ;' ' RhetoresSelecti ¦;' ' Historiaa Poeticse-' Scriptores Antiqui;' ' Opuscula Mythologies, Physica, et' Ethica;' ' Grsecum Psalterium juxta Exemplar Alexandrinum ;' ' Rerum Angli- carum Scriptorum Veterum. Tom. I. quorum Ingulphus nunc primuni integer caeteri primum prodeunt ;' ' Historise Britannicae et Anglicanse1 Scriptores. XXV. Vol. 2d ;' besides which, among his papers, the fol'- lowing manuscripts were found nearly ready for the press ; some of which have since been published, though, perhaps, not exactly' in the1 form in which he left them. ' Iamblicus de Vita Pythagoras ;' ' Ofigenis Philocalia variis MSS. collectat, emendata nova VersiOne donata ;' 'A'n- tonini Imperatoris Itinerarium Inscription ibus et Scholiis Illustraftim' • per Ti G.' Dr Gale left also a noble library of curious and valuable books and manuscripts, together with a considerable estate to his son and heir, Roger Gale, Esq. Conversant with the literati1 of our own nationi' his literary talents were equally esteemed by foreigners, among whom he had a particular correspondence with the learned 'Huetius, Mabillon, Period.] BISHOP BEVERIDGE. 207 Allix, and many others, who have in their works paid the greatest re spect to his character aud abilities. BORN A.D. 1636 DIED A.D. 1707. William, second son of the Rev. William Beveridge, B. D., was born early in the year 1636-7, at Barrow, in the county of Leicester; of which place his grandfather, father, and elder brother were suceesively vicars. After receiving the first rudiments of education under the tuition of a learned father, he was sent to the free-school at Oakham, in the county of Rutland, where he continued two years under the care of Mr Freer, the then master. On the 24th of May, 1653, he was ad mitted as a sizar, or poor scholar, in St John's college, Cambridge. Dur ing his residence at college he acquired general esteem, not only for his early piety, seriousness of mind, and his exemplary sobriety and in tegrity of life, but also for his ddigent application to tbe course of studies prescribed by the university. The learned languages he cultivated with particular attention, and by his assiduous study of the oriental languages, he in no long time attained such a proficiency as enabled him, at the early age of eighteen, to compose a Latin treatise on the ' Excellency and Use of the Oriental Tongues, especially the Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, and Samaritan ;' together with a grammar of the Syriac language, in three books. This was given to the public in 1658. Two years before, in 1656, he had taken his degree of bachelor of arts, and in 1660 he proceeded to that of master. On the 3d January, 1660-1, he was ordained deacon in the church of St Botolph, Aldersgate, by Dr Robert Saunderson, bishop of Lin coln ; and priest, in the same church, on the 31st of the same month : about which time, Dr Gilbert Sheldon, who then presided over the see of London, collated him to the vicarage of Yealing, or Ealing, in the county of Middlesex. How deeply. he felt the responsibility of the pastoral office, we may easily perceive from his ' Private Thoughts,' (a work known to have been written in his earlier years, on his first en trance into holy orders, though it was not given to the public till after his decease) ; in one of which he expresses his resolution, " by tho grace of God, to feed the flock over which God shall set him, with wholesome food, neither starving them by idleness, poisoning them with error, nor puffing them up with impertinencies." Mr Beveridge continued at Ealing nearly twelve years, assiduously occupied in the duties of his sacred office ; amidst which, however, he found leisure to continue his learned studies. The result of these ap peared in his ' Institutiones Chronologicse,' an elementary work on chronology, published in 1669; of which succeeding writers have not failed to avail themselves. This treatise is dedicated to Dr Humphrey- Henchman, who had succeeded Bishop Sheldon in the see of London, and by whom he was subsequently promoted. Three years afterwards, namely, in 1672, Mr Beveridge printed at Oxford his great Collection of the Apostolic Canons, and of the Decrees of the Councils received by the Greek Churph, together with the Canonical Epistles of the . 208 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth Fathers, in two large folio volumes, in Greek and Latin ; and illustrated these venerable remains of ecclesiastical antiquity with copious prole-1 gomena and annotations. On the 22d of November, in the "same year, he was chosen rector of St Peter's, Cornhill, by the lord-mayor and aldermen, of the city of London. On this occasion he resigned the vicarage of Ealing. The multiplicity and variety of Mr Beveridge's pastoral labours, at this period of his active and useful life, appear to have left him but little leisure for preparing any thing for the press, excepting a vindica tion of his Collection of the Canons of the Primitive Church, in reply * to the Observations of an anonymous author, which appeared in Latin, in 1679 ; in which year he proceeded to the degree of D. D. He was not, however, long unrewarded. His singular merit having recommend ed him to the favour of his diocesan, Bishop Henchman, he was col- v; lated by him on the 22d of December, 1674, to the prebend of Chis- wick, in the cathedral of St Paul's, London ; and on the 3d of Novem ber, 1681, he was also collated by his successor, Bishop Compton, to the archdeaconry of Colchester. In discharging the duties of this responsible office, he evinced the same vigilant, regular, and exemplary conduct, which he had previously shown in every station of life. For, not satisfied with the false, or at least imperfect, reports, which at that period were delivered by churchwardens at visitations, he visited in person tevery parish within the limits of his archdeaconry ; and took a | very minute and exact account of the state of every church he visited, -J as well as ofthe residences of the clergy. These particulars were, carefully registered in a book, for the benefit of his successors in that J dignity. On the 5th of November, 1684, he was installed prebendary of i Canterbury, in the room of Dr Peter Du Moulin, deceased ; and some ; time between the following year and 1688 he became the associate of j the learned and pious Dr Horneck,- in directing the religious societies J which began to be formed in London in the reign of James IL, and which greatly contributed to the revival of religious feeling in the me- • tropolis, whence it extended into different parts of the country. , The object ofthe religious societies, in the direction of which Dr Beveridge held so conspicuous a place, was first and principally, to promote edifi cation and personal piety in their several members ; to effect which pur- j pose their rules appear to have been well-calculated. They did Dot, however, confine themselves to this single design, but endeavoured to promote piety in others, in various ways. With this view they procur ed sermons to be preached every Sunday evening in many of the largest churches in the city, either by way of preparation for the Lord's Supper, or to engage communicants to a suitable holiness of life after partaking of that sacrament, which they procured to be administered in many churches every Sunday. They farther extended their charity to deserving objects in all parts of London, and its suburbs ; and by the pecuniary collections which were made by their influence, many clergy men were maintained to read prayers in so many places, and at so many different hours, that devout persons might have that comfort at every hour of the day. Among other benefits which resulted from these religious associations, was the institution of societies for reforma tion of manners, and the establishment of the two societies for propa- j Period.] BISHOP BEVERIDGE. 209 gating the gospel in foieign parts, and for promoting Christian know ledge at home and abroad ; both of which subsist to this day, with in creasing activity and usefulness. In the year 1689, Dr Beveridge was president of Sion college ; in which capacity he preached the anniversary Latin sermon to the clergy. of the city of London ; and on the 20th of November, in the same year, he preached the ' Concio ad Clerum' in Westminster abbey, before the convocation held by the bishops and clergy of the province of Canter bury, on occasion of the Bill of Comprehension which was then in agita tion. The " Scheme of Comprehension," as it is commonly termed, had been projected in 1668, by the lord-keeper of the great seal, Sir Orlan do Bridgman, Bishop Wilkins, Lord-chief-justice Hale, and several other distinguished persons, for relaxing the terms of conformity to the established church in behalf of moderate dissenters, and admitting them into communion with the church. The bill, which was drawn up by Lord-chief-justice Hale, was disallowed. The attempt was renewed in 1674, by Dr Tillotson and Dr Stillingfleet ; and, though the terms were settled to the satisfaction of the nonconformists, the bishops re fused their assent. After the ever-memorable Revolution in 1688, the question was again agitated ; and King William III., by the advice of Dr Tillotson and Bishop Burnet, submitted the business of comprehen sion to a synod of divines, as being the method at once the most ac ceptable to the clergy, and the best calculated to silence the popish ob jectors, who sneered at a religion established by acts of parliament. Accordingly a commission was issued to thirty of the most eminent divines, (ten of whom were bishops,) among whom we find the names of Tillotson, Burnet, Tenison, Patrick, Beveridge, Stillingfleet, and Kid der, directing them to prepare such alterations as they should judge expe dient in the liturgy and canons, together with proposals for reformation in ecclesiastical courts, and in other matters relative to the church. All these changes were first to be submitted to convocation, and afterwards re considered in parliament. After four members of this committee had withdrawn in dissatisfaction, the remainder proceeded in the business referred to them ; and, among many alterations too tedious to be men tioned here, proposed that lessons from the canonical books of Scrip ture should be substituted for those taken from the apocryphal books ; that the Athanasian Creed, the damnatory clause of which was pro nounced to be applicable only to those who denied the substance ol the Christian faith, should be left to the option ofthe officiating minis ter ; that new collects more glowing in devotion, should be drawn up, and a new version of the Psalms prepared ; that the chanting of divine service in cathedral churches should be discontinued, and legendary saints be expunged from the calendar ; that the cross in baptism, the surplfce, and the posture of kneeling at tbe sacrament, should not in future be insisted on ; that the absolution in the morning and evening service should be read by a deacon, the word " priest" being changed into " minister ;" that the intention of the lent-fasts should be declared tp consist not in abstinence from meats, but only in extraordinary acts of devotion ; tbat sponsors in baptism should not be held essential ; and that re-ordination, where presbyters had imposed hands, should be only conditional. These with many other alterations in the litany, communipn-service, and canons, were designed to be submitted to the iv, 2 p 210 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXTH approbation of the convocation before which Dr Beveridge was appointed to preach his ' Concio ad Clerum,' which was published in the same year by command ofthe bishops. From the text, (1 Cor. xi. 16.) " If any man seem to be contentious, we have no such custom, neither the churches of God," it will readily be inferred that his opinion was against any concessions or alterations. The various changes, however, above noticed, were never adopted : the tories so far succeeded in alarming the public mind, that little could be expected from the convocation by the projectors of the conciliatory scheme of comprehension. As no disposition was manifested by that body to innovate upon the forms of the church, or to meet the conformists with concessions, they were pre vented by the king from sitting for ten successive years, by repeated prorogations. Some time in the year 1690, Dr Beveridge was nominated chaplain to King William and Queen Mary ; and on the 12th of October, in the same year, he preached before her majesty his sermon ' On the Happi ness of the Saints in Heaven,' which is deservedly accounted one of his best discourses. It was afterwards published by her majesty's command. Dr Beveridge was one of those eminent divines whose iearning, wis dom, piety, and moderation, caused them to be selected to fill the sees vacated by the deprivation of Archbishop Sancroft and seven bishops of his province, for refusing to take the oaths of allegiance to King William and Queen Mary. Dr Beveridge was nominated to the see of Bath and Wells. He took three weeks to consider of the subject, dur ing which time Bishop Kenn, though deprived, continued to exercise all the episcopal functions, preaching and confirming in all parts of the diocese. Scrupulous, however, of filling an office, from which a con scientious, though, perhaps, mistaken principle of obedience, had ex cluded its former possessor, he at length declined the honour designed for him, and continued for thirteen years to discharge his more private and laborious duties, with an assiduity best evinced by the general suc cess which attended his ministry. Nor, until within three years of his death, and when he had attained a very advanced age, did he accept the episcopal chair, being consecrated bishop of St Asaph on the 1 6th of July, 1704 ; which see was vacated by the translation of Dr George Hooper to the bishopric of Bath and Wells. Being placed in this exalted station, his care and diligence increased in proportion as his power in the church was enlarged : and as he had before faithfully discharged the duty of a pastor over a single parish, so when his authority was extended to larger districts, he still pursued the same pious and laborious methods of advancing the honour and interest of religion, by watching over both clergy and laity, and giving them all necessary direction and assistance for the effectual performance of their respective duties. Accordingly, he was no sooner advanced to the episcopal chair, than he addressed a pathetic letter to the clergy of his diocese ; in which he recommended to them the duty of catechising and instructing the people of their charge in the principles of the Christian religion ; and in order to enable them to do this the more effectually, he, in the course of the same year, sent them a plain and easy exposi tion of the catechism of the church of England. Ou the 5th of November, 1704, Bishop Beveridge preached before the house of lords the anniversary sermon on the deliverance from the Period.] BISHOP BULL. 211 gunpowder treason ; and on the 30th of January, In the following year, another on the martyrdom of King Charles I. In that august assembly he attended as often as the duties of his bishopric would permit him. On every occasion he evinced himself a steady defender of the rights and privileges of the church of England ; and in the debates on the union of England and Scotland, he opposed that measure on account of the danger which he apprehended the church might sustain if it were. carried into effect. The last time he was able to appear in the house of lords was on the 20th of January, 1707-8. Bishop Beveridge held the see of St Asaph only three years, seven months, and twenty days ; , dying at his apartments in the cloisters in Westminster-abbey, on the 5th of March, 1707-8, in the seventy-first year of his age. Bishop -Bull. BOBN A. D. 1634.— DIED A. D. 1709. George Bull, bishop of St David's, was born at Wells, in Somer setshire, on the 25th of March, 1634. He was dedicated by his fa ther to fhe church from his infancy ; the parent having declared at the baptismal font, that if it pleased God to spare his son's life, he would educate him witb a view to his entering into holy orders. The fathe. died while his son was a mere child ; but the wish which had been so near his heart, with regard to him, was ultimately gratified, young Bull having pursued his studies at Oxford with a steady view towards the ministerial profession. Previous to his being sent to the university, he had laid the foundations ofhis classical learning at the free school of Tiverton, the master of which, Samuel Butler, was an excellent classi cal scholar, and a successful teacher of youth. It was Butler's usual method, when he gave his boys themes for verses, to press them, to exert themselves and do their best, because he judged how far each boy's capacity would carry him : but he always told George Bull that he expected from him verses like those of Ovid, " because," said he, " I know you can do it ;" intimating that his scholar had a capacity and genius that enabled him to excel in such exercises. While at Oxford, Bull attracted the notice ofhis tutors and superiors by his skill in dialectics, and his readiness and success as a disputant. He continued at Oxford till 1649, when he retired with the other man ners of the university who declined to take the new oath imposed by the parliament. Bull, acqompanied by his tutor, Mr Ackland, with drew to North Cadbury in Somerset, where he devoted his retirement to the further prosecution of those studies which he had begun at the university. About the age of twenty, he began to study the fathers of the English church, such as. Hooker, Hammond, Taylor, and others, and shortly afterwards was ordained deacon and priest on the same day by Dr Skinner, the ejected bishop of Oxford. Bull was at this time short of the age required by the canons of his church in candidates for the priesthood ; but the bishop thought that the pressure and difficulty of the times, and the need that the church was in of ministers with qualifications, for the sacred office, of a stamp similar to those of Bull's, 212 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXrH authorised him to depart from the strict letter of the canon in his or dination. His first benefice was that of St George's near Bristol, where he soon acquired great popularity by his assiduous attention to his parochial duties. As a preacher, too, he was highly popular. An incident which occurred soon after his coining to this living, contributed very much to the establishing of his reputation as a preacher. One Sunday when he had begun his sermon, as he was turning over bis Bible to explain some texts of Scripture which he had quoted, it happened that his notes, contained in several small pieces of paper, flew out of his Bible into the middle of the church, upon which many of the congregation fell into laughter, concluding that the young preacher would be nonplussed for want ofhis materials ; but some of the more sober and better-natured sort gathered up the scattered notes, and carried tbem to him in the puipit. Bul! took them, and perceiving that most of the audience — consisting chiefly of sea-faring persons — were rather inclined to triumph over him under that surprise, he clapped them into his book again and shut it, and then, without referring any more to them, went on with the subject he had begun. It happened once, while he was preaching, that a quaker came into the church, and in the middle of the sermon, cried out, " George, come down, thou art a false prophet and an hire ling I" whereupon the parishioners, who loved their minister exceed ing^*, foil upon the poor quaker with such fury, that Mr Bull was obliged to come down out of the pulpit to quiet them, and to save him from the effectsiof their resentment. After they were somewhat paci fied, Mr Bull began to expostulate with the quaker concerning his misbehaviour ; but the people perceiving the silly enthusiast to be per fectly confounded, and not able to speak a word of sense in his own defence, fell upon bim a second time with such violence, that had not Bull, by great entreaties, prevailed upon them to spare him, and to be satisfied with turning him out of the church, he would hardly have escaped with his life : Bull then went up again into the pulpit, and fin ished his sermon. These incidents, which we give nearly jn the words of his biographer, Nelson, are sufficiently characteristic of the temper and spirit of the times in which Bull commenced his pulpit-ministra tions. Im 1658 he was presented to the rectory of Suddington-St- Mary, near Cirencester in Gloucestershire. The Restoration opened the way for Bull's preferment in the church. In 1662, the lord-high-chancellor, Clarendon, presented him to the vicarage of Suddington-St-Peter's, at the special request of the dio cesan, Bishop Nicholson. It was during the twenty-seven years that Bull held this vicarage and the adjoining rectory, that he wrote most of those works which have given him a high place among English epis copalian divines. His study, says Nelson, was at this period the scene of his most exquisite pleasure, and he would often declare that he tasted the most refined satisfaction in the pursuit of knowledge, and that, when his thoughts were lively and lucky in his compositions, he found no reason to envy the enjoyment ofthe most voluptuous epicure. His course of stud\*, indeed, proved prejudicial to his health, because, for many years together, he dedicated the greatest part ofthe night to tbat purpose, and contented himself with little sleep. In 1669 he published his ' Harmonia Apostolica,' in which he chiefly Period.] BISHOP BULL. 213 laboured to reconcile the apostles Paul and James on the doctrine of justification, by this theory, that good works which proceed from faith, and are conjoined with faith, are a necessary condition required from us by God, in order to our justification. We heed scarcely say that this proposition met with many opponents. It was particularly opposed by Morley, bishop of Winchester ; by Dr Barlbw, Margaret professor of divinity at Oxford; by Charles Gataker; by Joseph Trueman, whom Nelson aptly describes as " a person of a deep and searching genius { by Dr Tully, principal of St Edmund's hall ; John Tombes, Louis Du Moulin, and by De Marets, a French writer. Bull replied to some of these opponents in his ' Examen Censurae,' and his ' Apologia pro Harmonia.' In 1680 he finished his next celebrated work, entitled ' Defensio Fidei Nicense ex Scriptis quse extant Catholicorum Doctorum, qui intra tria prima Ecclesise Christianse ssecula floruerunt,' i. e. " A De fence of the Nicene Faith, from the writings, which are extant, of the Catholic Doctors who flourished within the three first centuries of the Christian Church." After Bull had finished this work, he offered the copy to three or four booksellers successively, who all refused it, being unwilling to venture the expenses of the impression; so that he brought it home, and entirely laid aside all thoughts of printing it, being in low circumstances himself, and having a large family to support. Thus - this learned book might have been buried for ever, had not a worthy friend of the author's, some few years after, advised him to put his . neglected copy into the hands of Dr Jane, then regius professor of di vinity in the university of Oxford. Accordingly Mr Bull committed his papers to the professor, who, highly approving them, recommend ed this work to the pious and learned Bishop Fell. That prelate wanted no solicitation to undertake the whole expense of printing it, which was accordingly done at the theatre in Oxford in the year 1685. This book is written against the Arians and Socinians on the one hand, and the Tritheists and Sabellians, on the other. The author of Bishop Bull's life has given us a. history of the controversy, which occasioned the writing this book, together with a plan of the work, and an account of the uses made of it by some later writers, particularly Dr Samuel Clarke in his ' Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity,' and Dr Edwards of Cambridge in his ' Animadversions' on Dr Clarke's book. The De fence is an able, acute, and learned work. But the critique of Father Simon in his ' Nouvelle Bibliotheque choisie,' upon this piece of Eng lish divinity, is well-founded : — " Perhaps," says that learned writer, " it would have been better if the author had proved the mystery of the Trinity against the Socinians, by clear and formal passages of the New Testament, rather than have opposed against them a tradition, which does not appear altogether constant." And again, " if the learn ed Bishop Bull had been well skilled in the critique ofthe Greek copies of the New Testament, and of the ancient Latin copies, he would not have affirmed so positively, that Tertullian and Cyprian have quoted the 7th verse of the fifth chapter of the first epistle of St John, nor would he have alleged that passage against those who believe, that it is not genuine." In 1686 Bull was presented by Archbishop Sancroft to the arch deaconry of Landaff; soon after, the university of Oxford conferred on 214 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth him the degree of D. D., " as an acknowledgment of the singular hon our done that university, and of the lasting service done to the whole church, by his excellent ' Defence of the Nicene creed.' " All Dr Bull's Latin works were collected and edited by Dr John Ernest Grabe, in 1703. In 1705 Bull was elevated to the see of St David's ; but he enjoyed the honour of the prelacy only two years. He died on the 27th of September, 1709. The following sketch of this prelate's character is given by the writer of his life, in the ' Biographia Britannica :' — " He was tall of stature, and in his younger years thin and pale, but fuller and more sanguine in the middle and latter part of his age ; his sight quick and strong, and his constitution firm and vigorous, till indefati gable reading and nocturnal studies, to which he was very much ad dicted, had first impaired, and at length quite extinguished the one, and subjected the other to many infirmities ; for his sight failed him entirely, and his strength to a great degree, some years before he died. But whatever other bodily indispositions he contracted, by intense thinking, and a sedentary life, his head was always free, and remained unaffected to the last. As to the temperature and complexion of his body, that of melancholy seemed to prevail, but never so far as to in dispose his mind for study and conversation. The vivacity of his nat ural temper exposed him to sharp and sudden fits of anger, which were but of short continuance, and sufficiently atoned for by the goodness and tenderness of his nature towards all his domestics. He had a firmness and constancy of mind, which made him not easily moved when he had once fixed his purposes and resolutions. He had early a true sense of religion ; and though he made a short excursion into the paths of vanity, yet he was entirely recovered considerable time before he entered, into holy orders. His great learning was tempered with that modest and humble opinion of it, that it thereby shone with greater lustre.- His actions were no less instructive than bis conversa tion ; for his exact knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, and of the writ ings of the primitive fathers of the church, had so effectual an influ ence upon his practice, that it was indeed a fair, entire, and beautiful image of the prudence and probity, simplicity and benignity, humility and charity, purity and piety, ofthe primitive Christians. During his sickness, his admirable patience under exquisite pains, and his con tinual prayers, made it evident that his mind was much fuller of God than of his illness ; and he entertained those that attended him with such beautiful and lively descriptions of religion and another world, as if he had a much clearer view than ordinary of what he believed." PlRIOD.] 215 B0B.N A. D. 1644. DIED A. D. 1713. John Sharpe was born at Bradford, on the 16th of February, 1644. His father was inclined to puritanism, and a staunch supporter of the parliament party ; his mother was an equally zealous royalist. In 1660 young Sharpe was sent to Cambridge, where he pursued know ledge of every description with avidity and proportionate success. The Newtonian philosophy, especially, engaged his attention ; but he continued to indulge himself, at the same time, with the lighter branch es of literature and science. Burnet says, " he was a great reader of Shakspeare ;" and adds, " Dr Mangey, who had married his daugh ter, told me, that he used to recommend to young divines, the reading of the Scriptures and Shakspeare."1 In 1667, he took the degree of master of arts ; soon afterwards he was ordained deacon and priest on the same day, and became chaplain and tutor in the family of Sir Heneage Finch, then solicitor-general. Through Finch's interest he was appointed to the archdeaconry of Berks, and, in 1675, to the rec tory of St Giles in the fields. In 1681, he was presented with the deanery of Norwich. About this period he published some works upon the subject of schism. In 1685, on the death of Charles II., he drew up an address for the grand jury of London, upon James's accession, in which he indulged in the strain of affected and servile loyalty of the day. Next year, hap pening to treat upon some points of the Romish controversy in a man ner which gave offence to the king, he was threatened with suspension, and only escaped by petitioning his majesty in a very abject style of submission and flattery. Soon after the accession of the prince of Orange, Sharpe was appointed to the deanery of Canterbury, on the removal of Dr Tillotson to that of St Paul's, and within a short period thereafter' he was selected by the king to supply one of the sees vacat ed by the deprivations of the bishops. The latter preferment, however, met with a peremptory refusal ; but Tillotson interposed his influence on behalf of his refractory friend so effectually, that a still more unex pected dignity was soon after conferred upon him ; for, on the death of Archbishop Lampleugh, Sharpe was, in May, 1691, appointed to the see of York, which he held for twenty-two years. At his entrance upon this charge, he laid down to himself certain rules. One was for the encouragement of the clergy, namely, to be stow the prebends in his gift upon such only as were either beneficed in his diocese, or retained in his family Another more properly re spected the laity, namely, never to meddle, or anywise concern him self, in the election of members of parliament. It would scarcely be fair to the memory of the archbishop, to say that he was a thorough going tory in his political principles ; for, although he generally voted with the high-church party, and was recognised by them as one of their leaders, yet; in a few instances, he did exert his interest in opposition 1 History, vol. iii p. 100. 216 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlJCTH to the tories, and seemed to follow the leadings of his own judgment. Churchmen acknowledge themselves under great obligations to this prelate, for his influence with Queen Anne, in procuring and arranging the 'Bounty act.' The idea had indeed originated with Dr Burnet, in the late reign, 3 but it was Dr Sharpe who got it carried into effect. His influence at court was likewise successfully exerted on behalf of the espiscopal clergy of Scotland, whose political partialities had expos* ed them to much severity of treatment at the hands of government. The Vaudois protestants also shared his sympathies, and obtained, through his intercession, the renewal of a pension, granted by King William and Queen Mary, which had been suspended for some years, i Ia private life the archbishop was courteous, hospitable, and con descending. His charity was extensive, and of his personal piety there seems no reason to doubt. He died on the 2d of February, 1713. His life and some of his papers have been recently given to the public, by the Rev. T. Newcome, rector of Shenly, in two volumes, octavo. asuvntt, Mtfyop ot J^altsourg, BORN A.D. 1643. DIED A. D. 1715 This celebrated prelate, the son of a Scotch civilian, was born in Edinburgh on the 18th of September, 1643. His father, the younger brother of an ancient Aberdeen family, was a respectable lawyer and moderate episcopalian, and became a lord of session after the restora tion, by the title of Lord Crimond. His mother was the sister of Sir Archibald Johnston, commonly called Lord Wariston. Gilbert was the youngest son of the family. After having been instructed by his father in the Latin tongue, he was sent at the age of ten to the univer- • sity of Aberdeen, where he obtained the degree of M. A. before he was fourteen years of age. He studied civil and feudal law for about a year, and then, to the great satisfaction of his father, abandoned it en tirely for theological pursuits. He received ordination in his eighteenth year ; and Sir Alexander Burnet, his cousin-german, offered him a good living, but he thought proper to decline it, modestly deeming himself " too young for the charge. On the death of his father, in 1661, his friends advised him to resume his legal pursuits, with a view of practis ing at the Scotch bar ; but he refused to abandon the study of divinity. In 1663 he visited Oxford and Cambridge, where he became acquaint ed with More, Fell, Pocock, Wallis, Tillotson, and most of the learned men of the day. On his return to Scotland, Sir Robert Fletcher offered him the liv ing of Saltoun in East Lothian ; but Burnet, wishing to visit Holland, begged to decline it. Sir Robert, however, determined to keep the. living vacant until Burnet's return from Holland, whither the latter pro ceeded in 1664. While residing at Amsterdam, he studied Hebrew' under a learned Jewish rabbi, and made a very extensive acquaintance among- the leading theologians in that ^country. He subsequently re- 2 History, vol. v. p. 119. Period.] BISHOP BURNET. 217 moved to Paris, and thence to London, where, he was made a fellow of the royal society. Returning to Scotland, he found the living of Sal toun still vacant, but could not be prevailed upon to take it, until, by preaching to the parishioners for some months, he had ascertained that his ministry was acceptable. In 1665 he was ordained priest, and, for five years, he performed the duties of bis sacred office at Saltoun in a most exemplary manner. One of his parishioners having fallen into difficulties, Burnet asked him how much would be sufficient to set him up again in business ; the man named a certain sum, which Burnet im mediately ordered his servant to fetch. " Sir," said the servant, " it is all we have in the house." " Well, well," -replied Burnet, " pay it to this poor man ; you do not know the pleasure there is in making a man ^lad." About this time he drew up a memorial of the abuses practised by the Scotch bishops, to each of whom he sent a copy of it, signed with his own hand. This bold proceeding, in so young a man, exposed him to the deep resentment of Archbishop Sharpe. In 1668, he was ap pointed professor of divinity at Glasgow, where he continued four years and a half, hated by the presbyterians, lest his moderation should lead to the establishment of episcopacy, and by the episcopalians, because he was for exempting the dissenters from their persecutions. Soon after his election to the professorship, he published ' A Modest and Free Conference between a Conformist and a Nonconformist,' which procured him an increase of esteem among the friends of moderation. He next occupied himself in compiling his ' Memoirs of the Duke of Hamilton,' relative to which he visited London, and while there he was offered, but refused, a Scotch bishopric. On his return to Glasgow, he married Lady Margaret Kennedy, daughter of the earl of Cassilis, " Reputed," says*Sir George Mackenzie, " a wit, and the great patron of the pres byterians, in which persuasion she was very bigotted." This lady was much admired by the duke of Lauderdale, and suspected — though Mac kenzie thinks unjustly — of too great intimacy with that nobleman. A collection of her letters to the duke was published in 1828. In 1672 he published ' A Vindication of the Authority, Constitution, and Laws, of the Church and State of Scotland,' a work somewhat at variance with his previous opinions. It met with great approbation at court, and procured for him the offer of the next vacant Scotch arch bishopric, which, however, he would not accept. In 1673 appeared his ' Mystery of Iniquity Unveiled.' While in London, he was made chap lain to the king. There is a sermon of Burnet's extant, entitled ' The Royal Martyr lamented,' which he preached at the Savoy on the 30th of January, 1674, in which he enacts the part of a royal chaplain to lerably well: speaking of the " endless virtues" ofthe "murdered prince," and offering " divers passages drawn out of papers under his own royal pen, that will give some characters of his great soul." But his court favour was of brief duration ; his name being struck out of the list of royal chaplains, soon after his return to Scotland, for opposing the measures of the unprincipled Lauderdale. He shortly afterwards found it necessary, as it is stated, for his personal security, to resign the professorship of divinity at Glasgow and remove to London. He now printed his ' Truth of Religion Examined ;' and, having re fused the living of St Giles's, Cripplegate, which had previously been iv. 2 E 218 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXTH^ intended for his friend, Dr Fowler, he was appointed, in 1675, preacher = at the Rolls, and soon afterwards lecturer at St Clement's. In 1676, he published his ' Memoirs of the Duke of Hamilton,' and ' An account of a Conference,' between himself, Coleman, and Dr Stillingfleet. The vapid progress of popery at this time induced him to undertake a ' His tory of the Reformation,' the first volume of which, after having re mained a year in manuscript, to receive the corrections of his friends, was produced in 1679. It not only met with great approbation from the public, but procured for the author the thanks of both houses of parliament. In 1681, appeared a second volume ofthe work; and during the same year he printed ' An account of the Life and Death of the Earl of Rochester.' He had been sent for, it appears, by an un happy woman who had been engaged in an amour with that profligate. nobleman. The humanity with which the worthy clergyman treated the unfortunate female excited the esteem and gratitude of the earl, who solicited an interview with him, and afterwards spent one evening of the week, during a whole winter, in discussing the evidences of Christianity with the divine. The result of these conferences was the conversion of Rochester. In 1682, when the administration was changed in favour of the duke of York, Burnet, in order to avoid as much as possible being drawn into public life, built a laboratory, and for above a year sedu lously pursued the experimental study of chemistry. He soon afterwards published his ' Life of Sir Matthew Hale,' ' The History of the Regale,' ' The Method of Conversion by the Clergy of France Examined,' and ' An Abridgment of the History ofthe Refor mation.' It was about this time, tbat, having attended Mrs Roberts, one of Charles the Second's mistresses, in her dying moments, he ad dressed a letter to that monarch, in which he boldly censured his licen tiousness. " I told the king," he says, " I hoped the reflection on what had befallen his father on the 30th of January, might move him to con sider these things more carefully. The king read it twice over, and . then threw it in the fire." In 1683, appeared his ' Translation of Sir ; Thomas More's Utopia.' He had now become so intimately connected with the party opposed to government, that, after having attended Lord Russell to the scaffold, he deemed it prudent to go to Paris ; and while there, he was deprived of his lectureship by the king's mandate, and forbidden to preach again at the Rolls. In 1685 he published an ad mirable life of Bishop Bedell ; and about the same period returned to England ; but, on the accession of James IL, he again fled to Paris, in order to avoid being inculpated with the conspirators in favour of Mon mouth. From Paris he proceeded to Rome, where Pope Innocent XI. offered to give him a private audience in bed, to avoid the ceremony of kissing his holiness's slipper ; Burnet,. however, declined the proposal. He was treated with great consideration by the Cardinals Howard and D'Estrees, but became involved in some religious disputes, on account of which Prince Borghese recommended him to quit Rome. He then made a tour through Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and France, of which he afterwards published an account, in a series of letters addres sed to Mr Bayle. • At the conclusion of his tour he repaired to the. Hague, on the invi tation of the prince and princess of Orange, in whose councils, with respect to England, he took so prominent a share, that James II. or- Period.] BISHOP BURNET. 219 dered a prosecution for high treason to be commenced against him, and demanded his person from the states-general, but without effect, as he had previously acquired the rights of naturalization, by forming a union — his first wife being dead — with a Dutch lady of large fortune named Scott. He took a particularly active part in the revolution of 1688, and accompanied the new monarch to England as chaplain. The king, soon afterwards, offered him the bishopric of Salisbury, which, however, he begged his majesty to bestow on his old friend, Dr Lloyd. " I have another person in view," replied the king, who, on the next day, nominated Burnet himself to the see,' and subsequently conferred on him the chancellorship of the order of the garter. On taking his seat in the house of lords, he declared himself an ad vocate for moderate measures towards nonjuring divines, and for the toleration of protestant dissenters. He acted as chairman of the com mittee to whom the bill for settling the succession was referred, and dis played so much zeal in favour of the house of Hanover, that the prin cess Sophia corresponded with him until within a very short period of her death. An ' Account of the Constitution of England,' intended for the private use of the electress, has been ascribed to Burnet, but with out sufficient evidence. In 1692, he published a pastoral letter to the clergy of his diocese, which, on account of its containing a statement that the title of William and Mary to the crown might be grounded on the right of conquest, was, three years afterwards, during the ascend ancy of Burnet's political enemies, ordered to be burned by the common hangman. He published 'Four Discourses to the Clergy,' in 1694; ' An Essay on the Character of Queen Mary,' in 1695 ; and ' A Vindication of Archbishop Tillotson,' in 1696. In 1698, he became tutor to the young duke of Gloucester ; and, during the same year — having lost his second wife — married Mrs Berkeley, the authoress of a pious work en titled, 'A Method of Devotion.' In 1699, he produced his 'Exposi tion ofthe Thirty-nine Articles;' in 1710, his ' Church Catechism Ex plained;' and, in 1715, the third and supplementary volume of his ' History of the Reformation.' He died of a pleuritic fever on the 17th of March, in the last-mentioned year, leaving three sons, one of whom published the first volume of the deceased prelate's celebrated ' History ofhis Own Time,' with an account of his life, in'1723-4.1 This work has " long maintained its place among the most important works which relate to the affairs of this country. It includes a survey of the events which preceded the author's entrance upon public life, commencing with the accession of the Stuarts to the crown of England ; and is carried down to the year preceding the death of Queen Anne. Copious both in narration and remark, it is one of the original sources from which subsequent writers of history must derive their knowledge of the facts which they record, and ofthe persons whose characters they delineate. The credit, therefore, to which it is entitled, is a point which every reader who values correct information must be anxious to have deter- ¦ The editor of the first edition of this valuable work suppressed several passages in the original manuscript, probably more from respect to the feelings of others, than, as has been insinuated, fiom any conviction of dishonest or unfair representations on the part of the author. The suppressed passages were restored in the recent Oxford edition, in G vot.s. 8vo. 220 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth mined. What then is the authority which the work may justly chal lenge ? Is Burnet to be trusted as an historian on whose veracity we may depend? No writer has been opposed with more pertinacity of zeal, nor have any memoirs been more frequently charged- with being unfair and erroneous than his. His work has been criticised with un sparing severity, and the wish to detect in his accounts such misrepre sentations as might support the charge of wilful deviation from truth, has not always been successfully attempted to be concealed. They who remember the manner in which the ' Observations' of Mr Rose were examined and exposed by Serjeant Heywood, in his ' Vindication of Fox's Historical Work,' cannot have forgotten how effectually the authority of Burnet was supported against a host of presumptive ar guments, the materials for which had been hunted out with the utmost industry of research, and put together with so much art as apparently to force the conclusion which the writer wished to establish. Other instances have occurred, in which the truth of Burnet's narration has been confirmed by the production of evidence which was inac cessible to his earliest examiners ; and facts which rested on his sole authority, have been established by other and independent testimony. We see, then, no reason for withholding from Burnet the credit due to a writer of memoirs and annals, whose design was more extensive than to describe only the transactions in which he was personally con cerned. In some cases, his errors have been successfully detected; but a supposed refutation of his opinions has often, with little pro priety, been held out as a demonstration of his forgetfulness of truth. He appears to have been inquisitive, and not always discreet in his in quiries, nor always judicious in the selection of the information which his inquiries procured him. But his penetration, if not so profound as always to conduct him to the knowledge which would have enabled him to reach the excellence of a philosophical historian, was not so super ficial as some of his adversaries have represented. To what extent he had charged his memory with the information which he had obtained, and what were the precautions which he used to secure the fidelity of his recollections, we are unable to ascertain ; but, with the greatest at tention to such varied and extensive materials as were requisite in the composition of his history, and which had been accumulating for many years, the avoidance of error was not in every instance practicable. His prejudices might sometimes mislead him, if not in the substantial parts of his relation, yet in respect to the minuter details which his accounts comprise. But, whatever might have been the strength and influence of his party-bias, there is unquestionable evidence, that he was uncontrolled by such a principle in some of the most important of his satements. No reader of his work can go through the accounts which he has given of the discoveries of Oates and the popish plot, without the conviction of his probity, nor finish his perusal of them without admiring the dignified character of his reflections. He could both censure his friends, where censure, was incurred by them ; and be stow commendation where it was deserved, upon his opponents and others, for whom he could not be supposed to entertain affection. In times more critical and perilous to public men than any other in our national history, and when so many in the service of the sovereigns whom the Revolution had placed upon the throne, were in correspond- Period.] BISHOP B.URNET. 221 ence with the dethroned monarch, Burnet never compromised his alle giance. He was evidently sincere in his attachment to the new order of things, and his conviction of the truth and value of the great princi ples of public liberty was, we believe, not only honest, but carried him forward, with more activity, perhaps, than quite accorded with his clerical character and station, in the political agitations of the time." 2 He is described by Macky, his contemporary, as " a large, strong- made, bold-looking man, and one of the greatest orators of his age." To his powers as a preacher, Speaker Onslow bears testimony. Bur net had preached a sermon against popery at the end of Charles's reign : " Sir John Jekyl," says the speaker, " told me that he was present at the sermon, (I think it was this,) and that when the author had preach ed out the hour-glass, he took it up and held it aloft in his hand, and then turned it up for another hour, upon which the audience — a very large one for the place — set up almost a shout for joy. I once heard him preach," Onslow continues, " at the Temple-church, on the subject of popery. It was on the fast day for the negotiations of peace at Utrecht. He set forth all the horrors of that religion with such force of speech and action, (for he had much of that in his preaching and ac tion at all times,) that I have never seen an audience anywhere so much affected as we all were who were present at this discourse. He preached then, as he generally did, without notes. He was in his exterior, too, the finest figure I ever saw in a pulpit." Some tory scribe, soon after his decease, proposed the following in scription for his monument: — ¦ " Here Sarum lies, of late so wise, And learned as Tom Aquinas ; Lawn sleeves he wore, but was no more A Christian than Socinus. " Oaths, pro and con, he swallowed down ; Lov'd gold like any layman ; Wrote, preach'd, and pray'd ; and yet betray'd God's holy word for Mammon. " Of every vice he had a spice, Although a rev'rend prelate ; And liv'd and died, if not belied, A true dissenting zealot. " If such a soul to Heav'n should stroll, And 'scape old Satan's clutches ; We then presume there may be room, For Marlb'rough and his ducheBS ! " In the ' Jacobite Relics' there are several other songs directed against Burnet, and all as destitute of either poetry, truth, or wit, as the above. That he was betrayed, by the ardour ofhis temperament, into frequent improprieties, it would be rash to deny ; neither does it appear that he was always so indisposed towards arbitrary principles of government as he became after he had accepted of place from a revolutionary sovereign ; but his motives appear to have been always conscientious, and the general tenour of his conduct was certainly more worthy of " Eclectic Review, vol. xxii. pp. '186 — 488. 222 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth applause than deserving of censure. With him in part originated the measure for augmenting poor livings out of the first fruits pay able to the crown ; during the progress of which, he either institu ted to stalls, or bestowed small annuities upon those ministers in his diocese, whose incomes were too slender for their comfortable maintenance. He also allowed pensions to several clergymen's wi dows, who had been left destitute ; contributed largely to the repair ing and building of churches and parsonage-houses ; and supported four students at the university, and fifty boys at a school at Salis bury. Equally opposed to political, as to religious persecution, he in terfered effectually, although in opposition to the wishes of the whig lords, in behalf ofthe earl of Clarendon, when that nobleman, in 1690, became involved in some of the plots of the day. He also interested himself in favour of Sir John Fenwick ; and procured Queen Anne's pardon for Dr Beach, a nonjuring divine, who had preached a trea sonable sermon. During the reign of William and Mary, although he never lost the royal favour, he frequently disgusted their majesties by the bold candour with which he delivered his sentiments. To him, pluralists, whom he designated as sacrilegious robbers of the revenues of the church, were so odious, that his chaplains were invariably dis missed on their obtaining promotion. A clergyman in his diocese once asked him, if, on the authority of St Bernard, he might not hold two livings. " How will you be able to serve them both ?" inquired Burnet. "I intend to officiate by deputy in one,'' was the reply. " Will your deputy," said the bishop, " be damned for you too ? Be lieve me, you may serve your cure by proxy, but you must be damned in person!" "I knew Burnet," says Dr King. " He was a furious party -man, and easily imposed on by any lying spirit of his own fac- 1 tion ; but he was a better parson than any man who is now seated on the bishop's bench. Although he left a large family when he died, (three sons and two daughters, if I rightly remember,) yet he left them nothing more than their mother's fortune. He always declared that he should think himself guilty of the greatest crime, if he were to raise fortunes for his children out of the revenues of his bishopric." So much for the " spice of every vice" with which the bishop was tainted, and particularly his alleged greediness of gold. In conversation, he is described as having been often unintentional ly disagreeable, through a singular want of consideration. One day, during Marlborough's disgrace and voluntary exile, Burnet, while dining with the duchess, who was a reputed termagant, compared the duke to Belisarius. " How do you account," inquired her grace, " for so great a man as that celebrated Roman, having been so miserable and deserted ?" " Oh I madam," replied the bishop, " he had, as you know, such a brimstone of a wife !'' Although hasty and careless in his composition, he has, deservedly, by his vigour, the variety of his knowledge, and the liberality of his sentiments, acquired considerable reputation as an author. Horace Walpole, after stating that his very credulity is a proof of his honesty, declares his style and manner to be very interesting. " It seems," he adds, " as if he had just come from the king's closet, or from the apart ment of the man whom he describes, and was telling his reader, in plain terms, what he had seen and heard." Lord Dartmouth thought Period.] ARCHBISHOP TENISON. 223 Burnet a man of the most extensive knowledge he had ever met with. " He had read and seen a great deal," he says, " with a prodigious memory and a very indifferent judgment. He was extremely partial, and readily took every thing for granted that he heard to the prejudice of those that he did not like, which made him pass for a man of less truth than he really was. I do not think," continues his lordship, " he designedly published any thing he believed to be false." This opinion, however, was entirely changed on perusing the second portion of the work, which was not published till eleven years after the first. " I wrote," says Dartmouth, " in the first volume of this work, that I did not believe the bishop designedly published any thing he believed to be false ; therefore think myself obliged to write in this, that I am fully satisfied that he published many things that he knew to be so."4 The humorous piece, entitled, ' Memoirs of P. P. the Parish Clerk,' was composed in ridicule of the ' History of his own Time,' a work which excited considerable clamour among the tories, and exposed his memo ry to much animadversion and ridicule from Swift, Pope, Arbuthnot, and others. The foul-mouthed dean calls him a Scotch dog I rogue 1 vain silly puppy 1 canting puppy 1 treacherous villain ! His ' Exposi tion of the Thirty-nine Articles,' originally undertaken at the request of Queen Mary and Archbishop Tillotson, although it incurred the censure of the lower house of convocation, was honoured with the ap plause of Tenison, Sharpe, Stillingfleet, Patrick, Lloyd, Hall, and otliers, and is still esteemed a standard work on the subject of which it treats. His ' Account o£the Life and Death ofthe Earl of Rochester,' Dr Johnson says, " is a book the critic ought to read for its elegance, the philosopher for its arguments, and the saint for its piety." Yet Cunningham — who is seldom chargeable with want of candour — founds a heavy charge against the bishop on his publication of this excellent little book, as a betrayal of the secrets of confession.5 %Ltt$U&t)op C*mson* BORN A. D. 1636. DIED A. D. 1715. Thomas, son of the Rev. John Tenison, was born at Cottenham in Cambridgeshire, on the 29th of September, 1636. His father was rector of Mundesley in Norfolk, whence he had been ejected for his adherence, to Charles I. At the Restoration he became rector of Bra- con-Ash, or, according to Masters, of Topcroft in Norfolk. Young Tenison acquired the rudiments of education at the grammar-school of * The Oxford editors of Burnet's History offer a very satisfactory reply.to the noble annotator and other detractors from the bishop's well-earned fame. "Lord Dart mouth,'' say they, " uses strong, and Swift much ill language, on Burnet's supposed want of veracity ; and the excellent Latin verses of Dean Moss on the same subject are now, we understand, in print. Yet, the bishop's friends need not be apprehensive of a ver dict of wilful falsehood against him -in consequence of the corrections ofhis narrative in the subsequent annotations. Lord Dartmouth, indeed, a man of honour, asserts, that this author has published many things which he knew to be untrue. See his note at the beginning of vol. iv. His lordship, it must be allowed, had better opportunities than we have for determining what Burnet knew; but, as he has adduced little or nothing in support of this charge, we may be permitted to think that strong prejudice, not wilful falsehood, occasioned the bishop's erroneous statements." 5 Memoir of Burnet, in ' Georgian Era,' vol i. 224 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth Norwich, — a seminary at that time in high repute under the able mas tership of Mr Lovering. From this school he proceeded, about the year 1653, to Cambridge, where he was admitted a scholar of Bene dict college, upon Parker's foundation. Here he took his degree of A. B. in 1656-7; and at- first applied his attention to medicine; but, on the eve of the Restoration, he procured private ordination from Dr Duppa. In 1662 he became tutor, and, in 1665, was chosen one of the university-preachers, and presented to the cure of St Andrew the Great, in Cambridge. When the plague broke out in Cambridge, and all who could fled from the infected city, it is recorded of Tenison that he remained behind, with only two scholars and a few servants, during the whole of the calamity, conscientiously and regularly performing the duties of his cure. In token of their esteem and gratitude, his parish ioners presented him with a valuable piece of plate, when he left them in 1 667, on being presented to the rectory of Holywell in Hunting donshire. About this period he entered into the matrimonial state, with Anne, daughter of Dr Love, some time master of Benedict. In 1670 he appeared as an author, in a work entitled ' The Creed of Mr Hobbes examined.' It had been alleged of Tenison that he leaned to some of Hobbes's objectionable opinions ; but the suspicion was fully refuted in this work. In 1674 he became first minister of St Peter's Manscroft, Norwich. In 1678 he published a ' Discourse of Idolatry,' and, the year following, some remains of Lord Bacon. In 1680 he took the degree of D. D., and towards the close of that year was presented by Charles IL, who had already nominated him one ofhis chaplains, with the vicarage of St Martin's-in-the-Fields. In this living he exerted himself indefatigably for the spiritual and moral improvement of his parishioners, and in watching and checking the proceedings- of the po pish party. In 1681 he published ' A Sermon of Discretion in giving- Alms,' which led him into a controversy with Pulton the Jesuit ; and, in 1684 he published ' The difference between the Protestant and the Socinian Methodists,' in answer to a book written, by one of his Jesuit antagonists, entitled ' The Protestant's plea for a Socinian.' Dr Tenison attended the duke of Monmouth while in prison and on - the scaffold ; and we have Burnet's testimony that he acquitted himself conscientiously in his solemn duty to that unfortunate nobleman, yet with all mildness and becoming respect. In 1687 he held a conference with Pulton, in which the grounds and authorities of the protestant faith were largely debated. A report of this conference was soon afterwards published, and Dr Tenison followed up the debate with a number of controversial tracts written with ability and moderation,, in so much so that even James II. acknowledged the amiable spirit of the Doctor, and made advances to him. In the succeeding reign he laboured hard to effect a revision of the liturgy,3 and to conciliate the dissenters, to whom he exhibited a very tolerant spirit. The queen was so highly satisfied with his conduct, that she solicited for him, and obtained the bishopric of Lincoln, to which he was consecrated in January, 1692. It is said that Jersey, then master of the horse, strenuously opposed Tenison's elevation to 3 See Memoir of Beveridge. Period.] ARCHBISHOP TENISON. 225 the mitre, and represented to the queen that the Doctor had preached a funeral sermon for Eleanor Gwynn, Charles's mistress, in which he had spoken more than charitably of that poor woman : — " I have heard as much," her majesty calmly replied, " and it is to me a proof that the poor creature died a penitent at last ; for if I can read a man's heart through his looks, I feel persuaded that had Nell Gwyne not made a good end, the Doctor never could have been induced to speak of her as he did." In 1693, upon the death of Dr Marsh, Tenison was offered the archbishopric of Dublin ; but he declined it on account of some difficulties which stood in the way of the restitution of certain church impropriations which had been forfeited to the crown, but which he thought ought to be restored to the respective churches. In the fol lowing year, however, upon the death of Dr Tillotson, the bishop of Lincoln was elevated to the primacy. Dr Kennet observes of this elevation, that it was " the solicitous care of the court to fill up the see of Canterbury. The first person that seemed to be offered to the eye of the world was Dr Stillingfleet, bishop of Worcester ; but his great abilities had raised some envy and some jealousy of him ; and indeed his body would not have borne the fa tigues of such a station. Even the bishop of Bristol, Dr John Hall, master of Pembroke college, Oxford, was recommended by a great party of men who had an opinion of his great piety and moderation. But the person most esteemed by their majesties, and most universally approved by the ministry, and the clergy, and the people, was Dr Tenison, bishop of Lincoln, who had been exemplary in every station of his life, — had restored a neglected large diocese to some discipline and good order, — and had before, in the office of a parochial minister, done as much good as perhaps was possible for any one man to do." Soon after his elevation to the archiepiscopal see, the queen being seized with the disease which proved fatal to her, at her particular desire was attended on her death-bed by Dr Tenison. He also preached her majesty's funeral sermon. Soon after, Dr Ken, the deprived bishop of Bath and Wells, addressed a letter to his grace, in which he charged him with gross neglect of duty, in not representing to her majesty " the great guilt she lay under by her conduct at the Revolution," and en deavouring to awake her to a proper sense of penitence. The arch bishop took no notice of Ken's letter ; but he did what Ken himself — had he been in his situation — would probably have shrunk from, — he charged the king with gross misconduct in the matter of Lady Villiers, with whom, it was well-known, he had been long too familiar ; and so boldly and warmly did he follow up his remonstrances, that the king took them in good part, and solemnly pledged himself never again to visit Lady Villiers. He continued in favour at court notwithstanding of his integrity, and was in constant attendance on King William dur ing his last illness. As primate, Dr Tenison officiated at the coronation of Queen Anne ; his steady opposition, however, to several of her worst measures, and particularly the bill against occasional conformity, lost him her majesty's favour. The following sentiments which occur in a speech made by his grace against this bill in 1704, deserve to be quoted: — " I think the practice of occasional conformity, as used by the dissenters, is so far from deserving the title of a vile hypocrisy, that it is the duty of all 226 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXTH moderate dissenters, upon their own principles, to do it. The employ ing persons of a different religion from the established has been prac tised in all countries where liberty of conscience has been allowed. We have gone further already in excluding dissenters than any other country has done. Whatever reasons there were to apprehend our religion in danger from the papists, when the test-act was made, yet there does not seem the least danger to it from the dissenters now. On the other hand, I can see very plain inconveniences from this bill at present. As it is brought in, this last time, indeed, they have added a preamble, which, though it was in the first edition of the bill, was left out in the second ; namely, that the act of toleration should be always kept invi olable ; but the toleration act being to take away all the penalties that a man might incur by going to a separate congregation, and the occa sional bill being to lay new penalties upon those that do it, how they can say that this is not in itself a violation of the other, I cannot easily comprehend. I doubt it will put people in mind of what passed in France, where every edict against the protestants began with a pro testation, that the edict of Nantes ought always to be preserved invio lable, till that very edict was in express words repealed. At a time that all Europe is engaged in a bloody and expensive war ; that this nation has not only such considerable foreign enemies to deal withal, but has a party in her own bowels ready upon all occasions to bring in a popish pretender, and involve us all in the same or rather worse ca lamities than those from which, with so much blood and treasure, we have been freed ; — at a time that the protestant dissenters, (however • they may be in the wrong by separating from us, yet,) are heartily united with us against the common foes to our religion and government; what advantage those who are in earnest for defending these things can have, by lessening the number of such as are firmly united in this com mon cause, I cannot, for my life, imagine; therefore, I am for throwing out the bill without giving it another reading." * The good archbishop further rendered himself obnoxious to her majesty by the zeal he mani fested for securing a protestant succession. He even ventured to enter into a correspondence with the electress Sophia,, on the subject of the Hanoverian succession. In April, 1706, he was nominated first com missioner for effecting the union with Scotland. In this same year he warmly supported the resolution of the majority of the peers, that " the church of England, as by law established, is in a most safe and flour ishing condition, and whosoever goes about to suggest and insinuate * In Lord Dartmouth's notes on Burnet's ' History of his own Time,' we find the following curious passage regarding the archbishop : " I was ordered by the queen to go to Lambeth and acquaint the archbishop that she thought it necessary that some censure should pass upon Whiston and his book, which gave great offence. He said it was a bad book, and there were a great many, but the worst of all came from abroad, and wished there might be some stop put to that. I told him there were bad books every where, but whicli did his grace mean ? He said there was one Bayle had wrote a naughty book about a comet that did a great deal of harm. I told him I had read it. and did not think there was much in it ; the chief design being to prove that idolatry was worse than atheism, and that false worship was more offensive to God than none. He said, indeed, he had not read it, and I found by his discpurse that he had not read Winston's ; which, I told him, struck at the essentials of the Christ ian religion. He said there were some difficulties and disputes about prosecuting men for their opinions, and I never could prevail with him to tell me plainly, whether he would do what the Sueen desired of him, or no. But he afterwards sent me a very unintelligible letter, lat concluded with excusing his not having wrote with his own hand, because he hai! the gout in both his feoL" Period.] MATTHEW HENRY. 227 that the church is in danger, is an enemy to the queen, the church, and the kingdom." This resolution was come to in consequence ofthe pub lication of a malicious pamphlet, entitled, ' The Memorial ofthe Church of England,' said to have been written by Counsellor Pooley and Dr Drake, and the strenuous efforts of Rochester and others to get up the well-known high church tocsin against the whigs. . The archbishop did not long survive the coronation of George I., — his death occurring on the 14th of December, 1715. Calamy says of the archbishop : — " He was a very steady man : had he died in the reign of Queen Anne, (as many expected,) it was generally thought that Dr Atterbury, bishop of Rochester, would have succeeded him : but this was what God in mercy prevented." Baxter too regarded him with warm admiration. After the praise of such men it is hardly worth while to notice the flippant calumnies of Swift, who calls Tenison " the most good-for-nothing prelate, and the dullest man he ever knew."3 iWattfjeto Henrg, BORN A.D. 1662. DIED A.D. 1714. Matthew, the second son of Philip Henry, was born on the 18th of October, 1662, at Broad Oak, a farm-house in the township of Iscoyd in Flintshire, about three miles from Whitchurch in Salop, whither his father had retired on the passing of the act of uniformity. During infancy and childhood Matthew's health was delicate, but he gave early indications of much mental activity and a studious disposi tion. It is affirmed, that at the infantile age of three, he not only read the Bible distinctly, but even with a knowledge and observation which few children of twice his years display. His early proficiency in the rudiments of education, and his great and rapid advancement in his subsequent studies, were doubtless in a great measure due to the ex traordinary attention which his father's seclusion from the duties of a public station enabled him to give to the studies and mental discipline of his family. Our young nonconformist was also greatly indebted to the affectionate and skilful tutoring of a young gentleman, who hap pened to reside for a time at Broad Oak, previous to his going to the university, and who took Matthew under his special charge. The ef forts and advancement of the scholar kept pace with his privileges, and some little attention was necessary on the part of his parents to prevent him injuring his health by too close application to the studies prescribed him. When about ten years of age, the expectations which his fond parents had begun to form of him were nearly fatally blasted. He was reduced by a slow fever to the very brink of the grave ; but a kind providence again restored him to their arms, and under circumstances which made a deep impression, not only upon the hearts of the parents, but on that of the young sufferer himself. From this time his deportment, which had always been grave and orderly, became marked by an uncommon * Memoirs of Dr Tenison. — Calamy. — Baxter. 228 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. > [81XTK seriousness of disposition in one so young, and he now began to spend much of his time in retirement within his Own closet. It is believed, that, from his childhood, Matthew Henry had a strong and decided inclination to the ministry. It was evinced in many of those little innocent practices by which children often give indication of a predilection for some particular profession or employment. But it was not till his eighteenth year that, with an ultimate view towards de voting his life to the ministry of the gospel, he was placed under the tuition of ' that faithful minister,' Mr Thomas Doolittle, who kept a private academy at Islington. On the breaking up of Mr Doolittle's establishment, young Henry was sent for a short time to Gray's Inn, where he bestowed a good deal of attention upon " the noble science of the law ;" but without once flinching in heart and purpose from the nobler science and office which he had early coveted — the science of the gospel, and, " office of a bishop." It must be noticed, that at this early period in their history, the nonconformists of England had no regular seminaries for the education of their youth for the ministerial office. It was doubtless, therefore, more with a view to the advantages to be derived from conversation with men of education, and to avail himself of the facilities of learning which the metropolis afforded, than with any serious wish or intention to explore the profundities of juris prudence, that young Henry entered of Gray's Inn. Accordingly, we find him paying considerable attention to the modern languages while in London, and availing himself of all the opportunities which he pos sessed of extending his acquaintance amongst divines, and other learned men. He frequently heard sermon from Dr Stillingfleet, or Dr Tillot son, and he attended a weekly divinity disputation kept up by some young men under the presidency of Mr Glascock, a very worthy and ingenious young minister. In the month of June, 1686, Mr Henry returned to Broad Oak, and soon after commenced preaching. In 1687, he accepted the invitation of a church at Chester, to undertake the pastoral office amongst them The same year he married, but lost his wife soon after by small-pox. His next lady was a member of the family of the Warburtons of Grange, in Chester, with whom he lived more than twenty years, and by whom God gave him a numerous progeny. After Mr Henry had been settled about seven years at Chester, he lost his father, an event which he deep ly felt. To the memory of this beloved parent he has dedicated one of the most beautiful and interesting, because most simple and unaffected, pieces of biography in the English language. In Mr Henry's zealous ministrations, the villages and towns around Chester also largely participated. At some of them, particularly Moldsworth, Grange, Bromborough, Elton, and Saighton, he preachr ed a monthly lecture. At Beesdon, Mickledale, Peckferton, Wrexham, Stockbridge, Burton, and Darnal, he preached still more frequently. His labour every Sabbath-day, in his own congregation, consisted of two double services, as they are called, comprising first a lecture or exposition, and then a sermon. On Saturdays he catechised the young people ; and besides this, he had one week-day lecture, with other re ligious meetings, in addition to visiting the sick, preaching to the prisoners in the castle, and the various other occasional services which \yill impose themselves, whether solicited or. not, upon a faithful and Period.] MATTHEW HENRY. 229 ardent minister in a populous locality. For several years, the care of all the neighbouring churches may be said, " daily to have come upon'' Mr Henry, especially such as he could visit beween the Sabbaths. The engagements to wbich he was thus frequently called, included a circuit of about thirty miles, and embraced frequent public addresses, ordinations, and funeral sermons. And yet Mr Henry was by no means one of those restless spirits who delight in publicity and bustle. He was naturally fond of retirement, and courted privacy and quiet as far as it was possible for him to do so in consistency with his obliga tions to God and his neighbour. Hence the delight he felt in those calm and unostentatious hours of private study and meditation, which produced his ever-memorable commentary on the Scriptures ; and the gratitude he was known to express that that part of his work, at least, was " cut out in retirement, and not in noise and hurry." It is mar vellous, how, with so much work upon his hands, he contrived to dedi cate such a large proportion of his time to the devotions of the closet, and the preparations of the study. His sermons were elaborated with more than ordinary care, and often written out at full length ; his ex positions were also the fruit of very considerable research and mental exertion. In the year 1699, Mr Henry was thought of as a suitable person to succeed Dr Bates, then lately deceased at Hackney. To the first and the second invitation sent him from the church assembling at that place, he gave a decided negative, believing that Chester presented to him a sphere of greater usefulness, and therefore, that it was his duty to remain there. Ten years after this, however, when the con gregation at Hackney, by the death of Mr Billio, were again left destitute, and had renewed their application to Mr Henry, he saw it his duty to comply, and, accordingly, he removed from Chester to London in May, 1712. One motive which greatly influenced Mr Hen ry in at last acceding to the wishes of the church at Hackney, might be traced to the wish which he must have felt to superintend the publi cation of his great work, the Commentary, then in the press, — a duty which it was hardly possible for him to perform with any efficiency while resident in Chester. Our author's pastoral engagements at Hackney commenced on the 18th of May, 1712. In the new sphere of labour which now lay around him, he found ample opportunity for constant and laborious exertion ; and, though -his strength was somewhat impaired, and disease began to make its inroads upon his frame, he entered upon his new duties with undiminished alacrity and zeal. His biographer has remarked of him, that sometimes while at Hackney he preached his early lecture at Lit- tle-St-Helen's ; then returned to Hackney to fulfil his regular morning and after-noon services, consisting, as at Chester, of two expositions and two sermons ; then he has gone to Wapping to preach at Mr Lloyd's meeting- house, or to Shakspeare's Walk charity school, or sometimes to the evening lecture at Redriff ; and finally, having returned home, has gone through all the parts of family worship without giving evidence of either mental or bodily fatigue. By such labours Mr Henry's health soon became visibly impaired. His friends would have persuaded him to suspend, or at least abate, some portion of his incessant circle of engagements ; but he would not 230 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth listen to such a proposal. In the month of May, 1714, he paid a visit to his old friends in Cheshire, and was returning home in the month of June, when he was suddenly taken ill at Nantwich. The struggle was short. The next day, after his first illness, he was seized with apo plexy. He lay speechless three hours, and then - fell asleep.' His remains were buried in Trinity church, Chester. Mr Henry was, in private life, an amiable and highly domestic man. Though necessarily much and frequently from home, he still preferred the comforts of his own household to those of any other. Recording a journey to a distance to preach, he says, " In the evening I came to Chester late, and through much rain, but it was home." As a hus band, his whole deportment was marked by prudence, fidelity, and affection ; as a parent, his conduct was marked by kindness, firmness, and the most earnest anxiety for the spiritual interests of his chil dren. Into the circle of his friends he admitted none who did not pro fess themselves the friends of his Divine Master. Yet he knew how to honour all men, as well as to love " the brotherhood." A gentleman by birth, education, and habits, he conducted himself to all with cour tesy. " The very churchmen," says the famous John Dunton, " the very churchmen love him ; and even malice is angry she can find no cause to be angry with him." Of his diligence and improvement of time we have already spoken. He was commonly in his study at five, and sometimes at four o'clock ; there he remained till seven or eight. After family worship, and some slight refreshment, he returned to his study till noon ; and oftentimes again after dinner till four in the afternoon. He then visited the sick," J or his friends, and attended to any piece of business which he might have to manage. His rule, without defining proportions either of time or exertion, was the following :•— " Be diligent in your particular call ings. Bestow the bulk of your time upon them. Understand your employment ; and mind it with all seriousness." Mr Henry had a respectable acquaintance with the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages. His reading in early life had been extensive, and he was particularly well-acquainted with the writings ofthe puritan and nonconformist divines, amongst whom his favourite author seems to have been Baxter. He commenced author in the year 1689, or rather 1690, with an anonymous duodecimo of 34 pages, entitled, ' A Brief Inquiry into the true nature of Schism.' It called forth an an- '¦ swer of rather an illiberal character from a writer who styled himself ' A Citizen of Chester.' Mr Henry left the task of reply to his friend Mr Tong. His great work, the Exposition of the Old and New Tes tament, was commenced in November, 1704. Mr Henry lived to fin ish only the Acts of the Apostles. The rest was completed by various ministers, whose names are announced in some of the editions. ftooirt J&outf), 39* & BORN A. D. 1633. — DIED A. D. 1716. Robert South, D. D., was an eminent divine of the 17th century. He was the son of a London merchant, and was born at Hackney in Period.] ROBERT SOUTH. 231 1633. In 1647 he was admitted a king's scholar at Westminster. In 1649, while reading the Latin prayers on the day of Charles's death, he made himself remarkable by praying for the king by name. Being chosen a student of Christ-church college, Oxford, he applied himself vigorously to his studies : of the proficiency he made, his sermons are a noble and lasting memorial. While he was at the university he wrote a copy of Latin verses congratulating Cromwell on the peace he had made with the Dutch. Probably the subject was not his own choice, certainly it was the last compliment he paid either to the protector or his party. In 1657 he took the degree of A. M., and in 1658 he was ordained by one of the deprived bishops, and immediately commenced his ministry by a furious attack on the Independents, to the great joy of the Presbyterians. But the restoration of Charles in 1660 made it no longer necessary for him to temporise, and from that moment the Presbyterians themselves, as well as the Independents, were the con stant butt of his inexhaustible wit and satire. " When his majesty's restoration," says Wood, " could not be withstood, then did he from the pulpit exercise his gifts against the Presbyterians, as a little before he had done against the Independents, telling his auditory of their wry face, ill looks, puniug tones, &c, all which was to obtain the applause (and its consequences) of the prelatical and loyal party ; but as it fell out he missed his ends ; for by his too much concernment and eager ness to trample upon them, the graver sort of the said party would put their hats before their eyes, or turn aside, as being much ashamed at what the young man did utter." He was made, in rapid succession, public orator of the university, chaplain to the chancellor Clarendon, and prebendary of Westminster. After Clarendon's banishment in 1667, he was appointed chaplain to the duke of York. The Doctor's sermons, if James ever heard them, might perhaps confirm that weak prince's political creed ; they certainly never taught him popery. In 1676 he went to Poland as chaplain to the English ambassador, Lau rence Hyde. In 1693 he published ' Animadversions on Sherlock's Vindication of the Trinity.' London, 4to. ; and in 1695, a ' Reply to Sherlock's Defence.' London, 4to. During the reign of James he spent most of his time in privacy : he could not tolerate the encroachments that were made on the rights of the national church, and yet his creed taught him " to abide by his allegiance, and use no other weapons but prayers and tears for the re covery ofhis sovereign from the wicked and unadvised counsels where with he was entangled." Agreeably to these principles, he could not be induced to put his name to the invitation to the prince of Orange, which was signed by the archbishop of Canterbury and other bishops. He refused to subscribe the Oxford association paper to stand by that prince. He took, however, the oaths to the new government, declar ing " he saw nothing contrary to the laws of God and the common practice of all nations to submit to princes in possession ofthe throne." During the reign of William and his successor, he firmly rejected all offers of preferment ; sincere and immoveable in his principles, he op posed all union with the dissenting protestants, as a measure likely to prove fatal to the mother church; One of his last public exertions, we are not surprised to find, was in favour of SacheverelJ, who found in him an able and willing advocate. He closed a long and laborious life on 232 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sjxth the 8th of July, 1716, and was buried in Westminster abbey, near the tomb of Busby. " The character of this singular man," says a Retrospective Re viewer, " will be best known from his sermons. His disposition, ap- parently open and ingenuous, stimulated by an ardent temper not al ways under the control of prudence, prompted him to express his opinions without reserve or caution. He has laid himself completely open : his thoughts, his feelings, his animosities, and his predilections, are all exposed to the severest scrutiny."1 His sermons are printed in 6 and 11 vols. 8vo. His ' Opera Posthuma Latina,' appeared in 1717. <£f otgt M&ts, 39, 29, BORN A. D. 1642 DIED A. D. 1715. This celebrated philologist and antiquarian was born in the parish of Kirby- Wiske, north-riding of Yorkshire, in June, 1642. He was ed ucated at the free grammar-school of North Allerton, then taught by Thomas Smelt, a pedagogue of considerable learning, who had the honour of instructing several pupils, who afterwards rose to distinguish ed eminence, such as Thomas Burnet, the author of the ' Theory of the Earth,' Thomas Rymer, Ratcliffe, and Kettlewell. In 1659, young Hickes was admitted a servitor in St John's college; Oxford. In 1644 he was elected fellow of Lincoln college. After having spent some time on the continent, he became chaplain to John, duke of Lauderdale. While in Scotland, he imprudently published a book, entitled, ' Ravaillac Redivivus,' on the occasion of the trial of James Mitchell, one of the murderers of the archbishop of St An drews, which strongly excited the public feeling against him, and com pelled him to look to his own safety. These highrchurch principles were, however, rewarded with the degree of D. D. from the universi ties of St Andrews and Oxford ; and he was presented to the vicarage of Allhallows, Barking, in London. In 1682 he was made chaplain in ordinary to the king; and the next year, upon the elevation of Dr Thomas, dean of Worcester, to the bishopric of that see, Dr Hickes was appointed to succeed him. In 1683 he published a book, entitled, ' Jovian, in answer to Julian the apostate,' written by the Rev. Mr Samuel Johnson, chaplain to Lord Russell. Both treatises were extremely popular, and highly esteemed by their respective parties. From his character and connections, it is more than probable that Hickes would have risen to the episcopal bench; had not the Revolution laid an insuperable bar in his way. The dean was a firm protestant, yet he was also as inflexible a loyalist, and could not reconcile it to his conscience to renounce the oath of allegiance which he had already taken to one sovereign. He did not, however, yield up his station in the church without protesting against his deprfe vation ; which protestation, directed to the subdean and prebendaries;' dated May 2d, 1691, and formally signed and witnessed, was publicly fixed up in the cathedral of Worcester. Being thus embarked in the 1 Retrospective Review, vol. ix. — Gen. Biog. Diet. Period.] GEORGE HICKES. 233 cause of the nonjurors, the dean, by his writings, added considerable strength to that party, and very powerfully annoyed their opponents. Among these Dr Tillotson, now raised from the deanery to the archi- episcopal chair of Canterbury, by the deprivation of Archbishop San croft, came in for a pretty large share. In 1692-3, King James sent over to the deprived bishops for a list of those clergymen who had suf fered for not taking the new oaths ; and, accordingly, as perfect- a list as could be formed was drawn up, and Dean Hickes was deputed to carry it over to his majesty, with a request from the bishops, that the king would appoint two out of the number to be consecrated by them as their suffragans, one of which to be at the nomination of Archbishop Sancroft, and the other of Dr Lloyd, bishop of Norwich. Dr Hickes and Thomas Wagstaffe, the deprived chancellor of Litchfield, were accordingly named by James. Archbishop Sancroft then nominated the former as his suffragan bishop of Thetford, and Bishop Lloyd, the latter as his suffragan bishop of Ipswich. The archbishop died in No vember, 1693, and the ceremony of consecration was performed — agree ably to his desire- — by Bishop Lloyd, but whether with the assistance of any of the other nonjuring prelates does not appear. Dr Hickes being thus spiritually a bishop, exercised the duties of that character by ordaining deacons and priests ; but he became there by so obnoxious to the government, both in church and state, that his personal safety was greatly endangered. He was often under the ne cessity of keeping himself closely concealed, and of going in disguise ; and it is related by the continuator of the life of Mr Kettlewell, that once visiting fhe Doctor, that good man was " surprised and concern ed at observing Mr Dean in a military dress, and passing for a captain or a major." In 1705 the Doctor published at Oxford one of the most extraordi nary, and certainly one of the most Herculean labours ever attempted and executed by one man ; it was entitled, - A Grammatico-Critical and Archaeological Treasure of the Ancient Northern Languages,' in two volumes folio. It is dedicated to Prince George of Denmark ; and in this dedication the author goes quite out of the usual course of such compositions, by discoursing not panegyrically, but upon the mutual agreement among the northern languages, on their close relation to the English tongue, and on the origin of the nations from whom ours is derived. This is followed by a long preface, containing an account of the work, and a grateful remembrance of those learned persons from whom he had received assistance, particularly Bishop Nicholson, Wil liam Elstob, Dr Hopkins, prebendary of Worcester, and Edmund Gib son, the editor of Camden. The work itself is divided into two parts ; the first containing three grammars and two dissertations ; the other, Humphrey Wanley's catalogue of Anglo-Saxon books. The first grammar is an Anglo-Saxon and Mseso-Gothic one. In this are con tained all the helps necessary to attain a knowledge of these languages; after which the 'Doctor considers historically the changes which have happened in this language, dwells fully upon the Saxon poetry, and il lustrates every part by copious and curious specimens. The next grammar is ofthe Franco-Teutonic language; added to which is a small dictionary of such Italian and French words as are manifestly derived from the northern languages. The last grammar is that called the iv. 2 G 234 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES'. [Sixth Islandic, by Runolphus Jonas ; but the Doctor has subjoined many curious observations of his own upon the ancient Runic monuments of the Danes, &c. The Doctor's ' Dissertation concerning the Excellence of the North ern Languages,' was written at the request of Sir Bartholomew Shower, and is a work of astonishing labour and erudition. This is followed by Sir Andrew Fountaine's ' Dissertation upon the Anglo-Saxon Coins,' with ten plates of these coins. In the second book we have an accu rate list of all the books and charters in any of the public libraries, either in Anglo-Saxon, or relating-to Anglo-Saxon antiquities. This catalogue takes up 310 pages, and is a mass of critical, historical, and biographical knowledge. This is followed by a catalogue of northern books, sent by the learned Perinskiold from Stockholm to the Doctor; and the whole is closed by six large and useful indexes. Besides this and the other works above-mentioned, the dean published a variety of pieces in controversial and practical divinity ;. and, in 1726, his friend Spinckes published a volume containing thirteen practical sermons of the Doctor's, prefaced with a short vindication of his character on the; score of political sincerity. C^omas Mutntt BORN A. D. 1635. — DIED A. D. 1715. Thomas Burnet was bom at Croft, in Yorkshire, about the yeai 1635. He was educated at Christ's-college, Cambridge, where he ob tained a fellowship. He made three tours on the continent in the capacity i of tutor: the first with the earl of Wiltshire, the second with the duke of Bolton, and the third with Lord Ossory, through whose interest he obtained, in 1685, the mastership of the Charter-house. During the. same year he took the degree of LL.D., and, shortly afterwards, ren dered himself conspicuous by resisting the king's attempt to fix a Ro man catholic as a pensioner on the Charter-house. By William Ill- he was made a royal chaplain, and clerk ofthe closet; buthe lost these appointments, in 1692, by the publication of his « Archsieologia Philoso-. phica, sive Doctrina Antiqua de Rerum Originibus,' in which he dis played such latitude of opinion as gave offence to many influential divines. He had previously produced his celebrated work, entitled, ' Telluris sacra Theoria,' wbich he afterwards translated into English. He was also the author of two treatises, posthumously published, ' De Fide et Officiis Christianorum,.' and ' De Statu Mortuorum et Resur- gentium.' Dr Keill attacked him with considerable severity ; Flam- utead, the astronomer-royal, declared that he could overthrow the ' Tel luris Sacra Theoria* in a few sentences ; and a satirical song-writer, in a ballad on tbe controversy between South and Sherlock, stigmatised him as an absolute infidel. He died in September, 1715. Period.] 235 manitl TOlltams. BOKN A.D. 1644.— DIED A. D. 1716. Daniel Williams was born at Wrexham, in Denbighshire, about the year 1644. When only nineteen years of age, he became a pres byterian preacher ; and, after having officiated in various parts of Eng land, he was nominated chaplain to the countess of Westmeath. He subsequently obtained the appointment of pastor to a congregation in Wood-street, Dublin, which he retained for upwards of twenty years. Being exposed to much inconvenience, on account of his zeal for pro testantism, he quitted Ireland towards the close of the reign of James IL, and took up his residence in London. On the accession of William III., Mr Williams, being the most influ ential presbyterian minister of his day, was admitted to an interview with that monarch ; whom, it is said, he persuaded to ameliorate the condition of the Irish dissenters. In 1688, he was chosen pastor to a large congregation in Hand-alley, Bighopsgate-street ; and, in 1691, he succeeded Baxter, as lecturer at Pinner's-hall. He now became in volved in a controversy on the doctrine of the Trinity, which led to his establishing a separate lecture at Salter's-hall. In 1692, he published a tract against the Antinomian doctrines of Crisp, entitled, ' Gospel Truth Stated and Vindicated,' &c. ; and soon afterwards another, en titled, ' A Defence of Gospel Truth,' &c. These productions exposed him to a charge of Socinianism, which, after a strict investigation by a committee of ministers, was declared to be without the least foundation. In 1709 he received a diploma of D.D. from the university of Edin burgh. Towards the close of Queen Anne's reign he gave great offence to the tory ministers by his bold invectives against the intolerant prin ciples of their party, and his zeal for a protestant succession. Soon after the arrival of George I. in this country, he presented the new monarch, at the head of a deputation of metropolitan pastors, with a congratulatory address from the dissenters. His death took place on the 26th of January, 1716. Dr Williams was twice married, and both his wives are said to have been in opulent circumstances. He bequeathed the bulk of his fortune for the alleviation of distress, and the advancement of learning and reli gion. Among other noble benefactions, he gave large sums for the education of youth in Dublin, — for the support of a preacher to the native Irish, — and for the relief of the widows of -poor ministers. He also devised estates for the support of six students at the university of Glasgow ; and left his books, including the collection of Dr Bates, (for which he had given £15,000,) together with a considerable sum of money, to found a public library in London. The last mentioned be quest led to the establishment of Red Cross-street institution, one of the most valuable dissenting foundations in the country. 236 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth Bishop Cumbrian*. B0KNA. D. 1632. — DIED A.D. 1718. This learned prelate was born in London in 1632. He received his education at the school of St Paul's, and at Magdalene-college, Ox ford. His first clerical preferment was to the rectory of Brampton, in Northamptonshire. In 1691 he was elevated to the bishopric of Peter borough. He died in 1718. Bishop Cumberland bore an unblemished reputation throughout a long life. As a prelate, he was unostentatious ; assiduous in the dis charge of his functions ; charitable, and pious. As a scholar, his repu tation stood high among his contemporaries. His principal works are, * De Legibus Naturae Disquisitio Philosophical — a treatise, directed against the philosophy of Hobbes, which was translated into several European languages ; ' An Essay on Jewish Weights and Measures ;' * Origines Gentium Antiquissima; ;' and ' The Phoenician History of Sanchoniathos, translated from Eusebius.' BORN A. D. 1678.— DIED A. D. 1720. Simon Ockley, an eminent Orientalist, was born at Exeter in 1678. After a proper foundation in school-learning he was sent, in 1693, to Queen's college, Cambridge, where he soon distinguished himself by great quickness of parts, as well as by intense application to literature, and to the Oriental languages more particularly. He took at the usual times the degrees in arts, and that of B. D. Having taken holy orders, he was, in 1705, through the interest of Simon Patrick, bishop of Ely, presented by Jesus college, in Cam bridge, to the vicarage of Swavesey in that county ; and, in 1711, he was chosen Arabic professor of the university. These preferments he held to the day of his death, which happened at Swavesey, the 9th of August, 1720. Ockley had the culture of Oriental learning very much at heart; and his several publications were all intended solely to promote it. In 1706, he printed at Cambridge a useful little book, entitled, 'Intro- ductio ad Linguas Orientales,' 12mo. Prefixed is a dedication to his friend the bishop of Ely, and a preface addressed to young collegians, whom he labours to excite by various arguments to the pursuit of Oriental learning ; assuring them in general, that no man ever was, or ever will be truly great in divinity without at least some portion of skill in it : " Orientalia studia, sine quorum aliquali saltern peritia nemo unquam in Theologia vere magnus evasit, imo unquam evasurus est. There is a chapter in this work relating to the famous controversy be tween Buxtorf and Capellus, upon the antiquity of the Hebrew points, where Ockley professes to think with Buxtorf, who contended for it: Period.] SIMON OCKLEY. 237 but he afterwards changed his opinion and went over to Capellus, al though he had not any opportunity of publicly declaring it. In 1707, he published from the Italian of Leo Modena, a Venetian rabbi, ' The history of the present Jews throughout the World ; being an ample, though succinct, account of their customs, ceremonies, and manner of living at this time : to which is subjoined a supplement, con cerning the Carraites and Samaritans, from the French of Father Simon,' 12mo. In 1708, he published a curious little book, called, ' The Improvement of Human Reason, exhibited in the life of Hai Ebn Yokdham, written above 500 years ago by Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail,' from the Arabic, and illustrated with figures, 8vo. The design of the author, who was a Mahometan philosopher, is to show, how human reason may, by observation and experience, arrive at the knowledge of natural things, from thence to supernatural, particularly the knowledge of God, and a future state ; the design of the translator, to give those who might be unacquainted with it, a specimen of the genius of the Arabian philosophers, and to excite young scholars to the reading of Eastern authors. This was the point our rabbi had constantly in view ; and therefore in his ' Oratio Inauguralis' for the professorship, we find him insisting upon the beauty, copiousness, and antiquity of the Arabic tongue in particular, and upon the use of Oriental learning in general, and dwelling upon the praises of Erpennius, Golius, Pocock, Herbelot, and all who had any ways contributed to promote the study of it. In 1713, his name appeared to a little book with this title, 'An Ac count of South West Barbary, containing what is most remarkable in the territories of the King of Fez and Morocco. Written by a person who had been a slave there a considerable time, and published from his authentic manuscript. To which are added, Two Letters ; one from the present King of Morocco to Colonel Kirk ; the other to Sir Cloudesley Shovel; with Sir Cloudesley's answer,' 8vo. While we are enumerating these small publications of the professor, it will be but proper to mention two sermons ; one, ' Upon the dignity and authority of the Christian Priesthood,' at Ormond chapel, London, in 1710 ; another, ' Upon the necessity of instructing Children in the Scriptures,' at St Ives, in Huntingdonshire, 1713. To these we must add a new translation of the second Apocryphal book of Esdras, from the Arabic version. Mr Whiston, we are told, ' was the person who employed him in this translation, upon a strong suspicion that it must needs make for the Arian cause he was then reviving ; and he ac cordingly published it in one of his volumes of 'Primitive Christ ianity Revived.' Ockley, however, was firmly of opinion, that it could serve nothing at all to his purpose, as appears from a printed letter of his to Mr (afterwards Dr) Thirlby, in which are the following words : " You shall have my Esdras in a little time, two hundred of which I preserved when Mr Whiston reprinted his, purely upon this account, because I was loath that any thing with my name to it should be extant only in his heretical volumes. I only stay till the learned ' See the preface to ' An Epistolary Discourse concerning the Books of Ezra genuine and spurious, but more particularly the Second Apocryphal Book under that name, and the variations of the Arabic Copy from the Latin,' By Francis Lee, M. D. author of tlie 'History of Montanism.' 238 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [SlXTH author of the history of Montanism has finished a dissertation which he has promised me to prefix to that book." . But tbe most considerable by far of all the professor's performances, is, ' The History of the Saracens,' begun from the death of Mahomet, the founder of the Saracenical empire, which happened in 632, and carried through a succession of Caliphs,' to 705. This history, which illustrates the religion, rites, customs, and manner of living of that war like people, is curious and entertaining ; and the public were much obliged to Mr Ockley for it ; for he was at vast pains in collecting materials from the most authentic Arabic authors, especially manu scripts, not hitherto published in any European language; and for that purpose resided some time at Oxford, to be near the Bodleian library, where those manuscripts were reposited. It is in two volumes, 8vo. ; the first of which was published in 1708 ; the second, in 1718 ; and both were soon after republished. A third edition was printed in the same size at Cambridge, in 1757, to which is prefixed, ' An Ac count of the Arabians or Saracens, of the Life of Mahomet, and the Mahometan Religion, by a Learned Hand ;' that is, by the learned Dr Long, master of Pembroke hall. In the mean time Ockley was one of those unfortunate persons whom Pierius Valerianus would have recorded in his book ' De Infelicitate Literatorum.' In his 'Inaugural Oration,' printed in 1711, he calls fortune " venefica et noverca," and speaks of the " mordaces curse" as things long familiar to him ; and, in December 1717, we find him ac tually under confinement ; for, in the introduction to the second volume of his Saracenical history, he not only tells us so, but stoically dates from Cambridge castle. BORN A.D. 1633 DIED A.D. 1721. Nathaniel, Lord Crewe of Stene, and bishop of Durham, was bom in January, 1633. He was educated at Lincoln-college, Oxford. In 1669 he was made precentor and dean of Winchester, and also ap pointed clerk of the closet to Charles II. His sycophancy soothed the royal ear, and in 1671 he was promoted to the bishopric of Oxford. Two years afterwards he was translated to the see of Durham, at the request of the duke of York. On the accession of James II. he was introduced into the privy council, where he became a strong promoter of all those successive acts of despotism by which his royal master's fall was precipitated. As a member of the new ecclesiastical commission, he countenanced all those infatuated measures by which that body con tinued to alienate the loyalty even of the universities themselves. It will not be matter of surprise that this hireling bishop should have been among the first to desert a falling cause, and betray his royal pa tron. It is said that he was among the first to vote that James had performed an act of abdication. He was, however, expressly excepted.. from the pardon granted by William and Mary to the adherents ofthe late sovereign ; he consequently absconded, and offered to resign his Period.] BISHOP FLEETWOOD. 239 bishopric to Burnet, on condition of receiving £1000 per annum out of its revenues for life. Burnet declined the proposal ; and Crewe, in consequence of Tillotson's intercession, was allowed to retain his see. Having ventured to return to England, he made his peace at court, by voting for the new settlement. On the death of his two elder brothers, in 1691, he became Baron Crewe of Stene. Almost the last act ofhis public life was his opposition to the proceedings instituted against Sacheverell. He died without issue, although thrice married, on the 1 8th of September, 1721, aged eighty-eight. This versatile prelate was not eminent either for piety or erudition. Speaking of his employment as an ecclesiastical commissioner, Burnet says, " He was lifted up with it, and said, now his name would be re corded in history; and when some of his friends represented to him the danger of acting in a court so illegally constituted, he said, he could not live if he should lose the king's gracious smiles." 3&t0l)OjJ dFtottooofc* BORN A. D. 1656. — DIED A. D. 1723. This prelate was of the family of the Fleetwoods of Lancashire. He was educated at Eton, whence he was elected to King's college, Cam bridge. Soon after the Revolution he was appointed one of the royal chaplains. He also obtained the rectory of St Austin's, and the lecture ship of St Dunstan's in the west. In 1691 he appeared as an author in his ' Inscriptionum Antiquarum Sylloge,' being a collection of ancient Pagan and Christian monumen tal inscriptions. In 1692 he published a translation of ' Jurieu's Plain Method of Christian Devotion.' This proved a highly popular work ; the 27th edition of it was published in 1750. In 1701 he published ' An Essay upon Miracles,' which called forth some animadversions from Hoadly. Two or three years after this, he withdrew for a time from the city, giving up all his preferments, and retiring to a small rectory which he held in Buckinghamshire. His love of study and re tirement rendered this change agreeable at least to him ; but it is proba ble that the measure was dictated by other considerations than these alone. While thus withdrawn from public notice, he pursued the study of antiquities, drew up his ' Chron icon Preciosum,' containing an ac count of English money, and the price of corn and other commodities for the preceding six hundred years. On the death of Beveridge, in 1706, Fleetwood was elevated to the see of St Asaph, but he was not consecrated until June, 1708. Upon the death of Bishop Moore, in 1714, he was translated to the see of Ely, in which he continued till his death in 1723. Fleetwood was a good scholar, an accomplished antiquarian, and an eloquent preacher. His publications are numerous, and both Hickes and Hearne acknowledge their obligations to him in their particular department of literature. One of his best publications is his ' Vindication of the Thirteenth Chap ter to the Romans.' Upon the pretended authority of this chapter much offensive doctrine had been reared with regard to the political institutions ofthe country. Bv a course of false reasoning upon it, some 240 ecclesiastical series. [Sixth churchmen had contrived to represent even despotism itself as an ordinance of God, and the most abject slavery as submission to religi ous principles. Against such doctrines the bishop — though himself a high churchman — entered his protest in this work, and proved that the apostle Paul requires no more submission to the higher powers of a state, on the part ofthe governed, than that which is enjoined by the laws of the country. BOBN A.D. 1671. DIED A. D. 1724. This prelate was the son of Sir John Dawes, Baronet, and was bom near Braintree in Essex, on the 12th of September, 1671. He receiv ed his early education at Merchant-tailors' school in London ; and had made very great proficiency in the classics, and in Hebrew, before go ing to the university. In 1687 he became a scholar of St John's col lege, Oxford, of which he was afterwards chosen a fellow; but on the family estate and title devolving upon him, by the death of his father and two elder brothers, he went to Cambridge, and entered himself as a nobleman at Catherine hall, where he took his degree of M. A. On arriving at competent age, he was ordained deacon and priest, by Compton, bishop of London ; and shortly after was created D. D. by royal mandate, in order to qualify for the mastership of Catherine hall, vacant by the death of Dr Eachard. In 1696 he was made one of his majesty's chaplains in ordinary, and soon after was presented to a prebendal stall in Worcester cathedral. |||"'' He stood high in favour with Queen Anne, and would have earlier arrived at a bishopric, but for his having given utterance to some rather unpalatable truths from the pulpit in his majesty's hearing. When told of what he had done, and the opportunity he had lost of advancing himself, he replied that he was not at all concerned about the matter; it had never been his intention to gain a bishopric by falsifying his preach ing. To the see of Chester, however, he was elevated in 1707, on the death of Dr Stratford ; and in 17 13, by the special recommendation ofhis predecessor, Dr Sharp, he was translated to the archiepiscopal see of York. He filled this high station about ten years. His death took place in April, 1724. His works were collected and published after his death, in three vols. 8vo. Archbishop Dawes was a sincerely good and pious man. He identified himself with no party in the state ; but appears to have confined himself as much as his station would allow him to his proper ecclesiastical duties. His talents were not of a high order, but his character and conduct were in all respects unimpeachable. -Militant amotion, 23. B- BORN A. D. 1666. — DIED A. D. 1726. William Wotton, son of the Rev. Henry Wotton, rector of Wren- tham in Suffolk, was born in August, 1666. It is said that at the age Period.] DANIEL WHITBY. 241 ot five years he had made considerable progress in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. His memory was prodigious, and to it he was mainly in debted for his singular acquirements. Before he had completed his tenth year he was admitted of Catharine-hall, Cambridge, on which occasion, Dr Eachard, the master, entered his name on the rolls in the following terms : " Gulielmus Wottonus, infra decern annos, nee Ham- mondo nee Grotio secundus." At twelve years of age he had added a knowledge of the Arabic, Syriac, and Chaldee languages to his pre vious acquisitions. He took the degree of B. A. in 1679 ; and, in 1691, became B. D. The same year he was presented by Bishop Lloyd to the sinecure of Llandrillo ; and, in 1693, the earl of Notting ham preferred him to the rectory of Middleton-Keynes. In 1705, Bishop Burnet gave him a prebendal stall in Salisbury cathedral ; and in 1707 he had the degree of D. D. conferred upon him by Archbishop Tenison. In 1694 Wotton published his ' Reflections upon Ancient and Mo dern Learning,' in refutation of Temple's celebrated essay upon the same subject. His next publication of any importance was ' The History of Rome, from the death of Antoninus Pius to the death of Severus.' This appeared in 1701. It was undertaken at the request of Bishop Burnet, for the use of his pupil, the duke of Gloucester. In 1718 he published a valuable work, entitled, ' Miscellaneous Discourses relating to the Traditions and Usages of the Scribes and Pharisees.' In 1730 was published his posthumous work, of immense labour and erudition, entitled, ' Leges Wallicae Ecclesiasticae et Civiles Hceli Boni et aliorum Walliae Principum.' He died in 1726, leaving behind him no competitor, perhaps, in va riety of acquisitions as a linguist. mmritl @Mf)itU£, 23-®. BORN A. D. 163S. DIED A. D. 1727. Although Whitby's life was lengthened to nearly a centuiy, yet very few facts concerning him are found recorded, except such as may be gleaned from his own writings, and these exhibit little more, so far as he is personally concerned, than a history ofhis opinions. Thirty years before his death, Anthony Wood, in the ' Athenae Oxonienses,' wrote a brief account of his life and writings up to that period ; and this has served as the basis, and sometimes has furnished the materials of the entire structure, for succeeding biographers. To the second edition of Whitby's ' Last Thoughts,' printed after his death, Dr Sykes prefixed a short notice of the author, which contained little else than a repetition of Wood's account, and the titles and dates of all Whitby's works. The same was again repeated without any essential addition, in the ' Biographia Britannica.' The supplement to Moreri's Dic tionary comprises a few other particulars, collected from notices of some of Whitby's publications, as inserted from time to time in Le Clerc's ' Bibliotheque.' In Chauffepie's ' Continuation of Bayle,' the article on Whitby in the ' Biographia Britannica,' is translated, but without any thing new, except a few remarks on his writings. From iv. 2 H 242 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sink all these sources, and from some others of minor consequence, it is not possible to collect materials, which can be put together in the shape of a memoir, or connected narrative. A short analysis of some of the author's principal works is all that will be attempted. Daniel Whitby was born at Rushden, Northamptonshire, 1638. His father was a clergyman of that place, and a man of some eminence as a scholar and divine. Under his guidance the son made rapid progress in his early studies, and at the age of fifteen was admitted a com moner of Trinity college, Oxford. He took the degree of M. A. in 1660, and four years after was elected fellow of the same college. He was appointed chaplain to Dr Ward, bishop of Salisbury, and in 1688, was made prebendary of Yatesbnry. In 1672 he took the degree of Doctor of Divinity, was admitted chanter of the Cathedral church, in his bishop's diocese, and raised to the rectorship of St Edmund's church, Salisbury. He was appointed prebendary of Taunton-Regis' in 1696, and to the duties of some or all of these stations, he seems to have been devoted during the remainder of his life. While Whitby was at the university, the popish controversy ran high in England, and his early publications were on that subject. As an author he first came -before the public about the time that he was advanced to his fellowship ; and during the fifteen years following, he published six different treatises, chiefly in confutation of some of the peculiarities of the Romish church, or in reply to opponents. He also found leisure to write concerning the laws, both ecclesiastical and civil, which ignorance, or power, or prejudice, or bigotry, had made in dif ferent ages of the church against heretics ; and he exposed in their true colours the wickedness and folly of persecution. One ofhis most celebrated works, 'The Protestant Reconciler,' was published in 1683. The title is a significant indication ofthe author's design. His project was to bring all protestants together, and espe cially the protestants of England, in the bonds of Christian union and love. He first pleads for condescension on the part of the established church towards dissenters, in things indifferent and unnecessary ; and among those he reckons some ofthe ceremonies ofthe church, to which dissenters had always been strenuously, and no doubt conscientiously, opposed. He took the ground, that whatever is indifferent, or what ever may be changed without violating the laws of God, ought not to be imposed by superiors as absolute terms of communion. By relax ing the rigour of established forms on these points, and admitting all persons to church-fellowship whose faith and conduct rendered them worthy, he flattered himself that the barriers of separation might be demolished, and a method provided for reconciliation and peace. But the sequel proved, that he little knew in what dreams he was indulg ing. His work was condemned by a formal decree of the university of Oxford, as containing doctrines false, impious, and seditious ; and, as Wood affirms, it was forthwith burned by the hands of the university- marshal in the quadrangle of the schools. This was no doubt an ex cellent thing for the bookseller, as nobody would fail to buy and read a book which had been judged worthy of such a distinction by the grave convocation of a university. The offending author was arraigned before Bishop W'ard, in whose diocese he held his offices in the church, and was compelled to make a formal retraction. This is so curious a PBMOD.j DANIEL WHITBY. 243 specimen of hierarchical despotism, practised in a Protestant country in the boasted days of Protestant liberty, that it is believed the readers of this article will be glad to see it entire. It not only relates to a re markable incident in the life of Whitby, but is a prominent feature in the history of the age. The instrument is dated October 9th, 1683, about three months after the burning at Oxford, and is clothed in the following language : " I, Daniel Whitby, doctor of divinity, chaunter in the church of Sarum, and rector of the parish church of St Edmunds in the city, and diocese of Sarum, having been the author of a book called the Protestant Reconciler, which, through want of pru dence, and deference to authority, I have caused to be printed and published, am truly and heartily sorry for the same, and for any evil influence it hath had upon the dissenters from the church of England established by law, or others. And, whereas it containeth several passages, which I am convinced in my conscience are obnoxious to the canons, and do reflect upon the governors of the said church, I do hereby openly revoke and renounce all irreverent and unmeet expres sions contained therein, by which I have justly incurred the censure and displeasure of my superiors. And, furthermore, whereas these two pro positions have been deduced and concluded from the same book, name ly, — first, that it is not lawful for superiors to impose any thing in the worship of God, that is not antecedently necessary ; and, secondly, that the duty of not offending a weak brother is inconsistent with all human authority of making laws concerning indifferent things, — I do hereby openly renounce both the said propositions, being false, erroneous, and schismatical, and do revoke and disclaim all tenets, positions, and as sertions contained in the said book, from whence these positions can be inferred, and, whereinsoever I have offended therein, I do heartily beg pardon of.God, and the church, for the same." We ought not, however, to judge of the temper of the whole English church at that time by the conduct of Bishop Ward. If report speaks truly, as we have reason to think it does, from this example, his charac ter was not one which the enlightened would praise, or the virtuous envy. As a professor of astronomy at Oxford, and for his mathemati cal attainments, he wasjustly eminent; but Anthony Wood — who speaks from personal knowledge — tells us of his shuffling for popular favour, and of his, " cowardly wavering for lucre and honour's sake, his putting in and out, and occupying other men's places for several years." That such a man should be a tyrant, is not so strange as that a whole church should have looked on without indignation. If the conduct of Ward was reprehensible in the highest degree, the humiliating submission of Whitby is by no means to be commended. He had written what he believed to be the truth, and with the best motives ; he had yielded to the impulse of his conscience, and ventured to say what he thought His independence should not have forsaken him at the moment when it was most needed to maintain the honesty of his intentions, and the stability of his character, and thereby to give weight to his writings The cause in which he had engaged, either did not deserve the labour which he had bestowed, or it was worthy of the noble sacrifice which he was called to make, of all worldly considerations, when brought in competition with truth and right. It was some apology, perhaps, that he had then published only half of his work, and that what remain- '244 ecclesiastical series. [Sum ed was calculated to wear off the rough aspect of his remarks on church authority. Had his enemies been patient, they would have had less occasion for violence. It was his object to bring churchmen and dis senters together by mutual concessions, and his plea was, that each party should yield to the other in things indifferent. As yet he had alluded chiefly to the concessions which it became the church to make. The affronted dignity and eager malice of his adversaries found it not convenient to wait till the whole subject should be fairly presented be fore them. Shortly after Whitby's mortifying retraction, the author published the second part of the ' Protestant Reconciler.' This was especially designed for the dissenters, showing reasons why tbey might join con scientiously with the church of England, and answering the objection of non-conformists against the lawfulness of submission to that church. It has been insinuated, that he wrote this part under the influence of authority, with the purpose of counteracting the tendency ofthe first. This is an illiberal surmise ; for the work must have been far advan ced in printing before his retraction, and is evidently in unison with his original scheme. Dr William Sherlock undertook to confute the whole work, two years after the second part was published. In his ' Dedicatory Epistle to the Archbishop of Canterbury,' he affects to consider the ' Protestant Reconciler's' arguments as very weak and inconclusive ; but he con descends to allow, " that he had managed the cause to as much advan tage as a popular and insinuating rhetoric could give it." Whitby made no reply to Sherlock, nor to any other person who wrote against him in this controversy. On the whole, it may be doubted whether this method of reconciling protestants was likely to be of much practi cal utility. Very important preliminaries must first be settled. What shall be called things indifferent? This must be debated by both parties, before they can start in the work of reconciliation. And next, which party shall yield first, and in the greatest number of particulars'? Till these preliminaries are adjusted, nothing Can be done; and it is idle to suppose that they ever can be adjusted by a mutual compact. Time and reflection, the dominion of reason, and the progress of moral improvement, guided by the light and precepts of the gospel, are the only effectual reconcilers of Christians. Whitby continued to write occasionally against the church of Rome, and employed much learning in discussing the authority of general councils, the claims of the pope to infallibility, and various other mat ters then subjects of high debate between the English and Catholic churches. Among his best writings in this controversy is a ' Treatise , on Traditions.' His inquiries are first made to bear on the scriptures ; and he satisfies himself, that we have sufficient evidence from tradition that they are what they profess to be, the word of God ; and that genuine and authentic copies have been perserved. In prosecuting these inquiries further, he maintains, that the church of Rome places too much confidence in traditions ; that many things which have pas sed for traditions are novelties ; and that the heathens used the same argument of traditionary authority in favour of their rites, which has been used by many Christians in support of ceremonies and customs not prescribed in the scriptures. PuttioD.] bishop kennett. 245 The work which, more than any other, has raised Whitby's fame, is his ' Paraphrase and Commentary on the New Testament,' first pub lished in 1703, in two volumes, folio. The tenth edition appeared in 1807, in quarto. The author informs us in the preface that this work cost him the labour of fifteen years' study, and it is truly a noble monu ment of his learning and industry. Another of Whitby's most popular works is that on the ' Five Points' of Calvinism, in which he labours to confute those doctrines. In the year 1718, Whitby published his 1 Disquisitiones Modestse,' being a reply to Bull's defence of the Nicene Creed. Bull had argued that the Antenicene fathers entertained the orthodox faith respecting the person of Christ and his equality with the Father. Whitby combated this theory, and aimed to establish the fact, that it was the prevailing faith of the three first centuries, that Christ was derived from the Father, and subordinate to him. Waterland wrote against the ' Disquisitiones Modestae' on the side of Bull, and Whitby replied at considerable length in two separate answers. Religious liberty was never without a zealous advocate in Whitby when occasion demanded one, and it was natural that he should be in- listed as an able supporter of Hoadly in the ' Bangorian Controversy.' He wrote an answer to ' Dr Snape's Second Letter to the Bishop of Bangor,' and defended in a separate treatise the principles contained in Hoadly 's famous sermon on the church or kingdom of Christ. The work which closed the long and distinguished labours of Whitby as an author, was his ' Last Thoughts.' It was first published in 1727, the year after his death ; and, although it was a posthumous work, it was by his own hand entirely prepared for publication. It was design ed to correct several mistakes — as he regarded them — in his Commen tary. A second edition of the ' Last Thoughts' was published the next year after the first, and to this was prefixed a short account of the author, by Dr Sykes. Five Discourses were appended to the original edition. Besides the publications already mentioned, Whitby was the author of many others, especially on practical and polemical divinity. He published two volumes of Sermons on the attributes of God, and three or four volumes more on various subjects ; a work on ' The Necessity and Usefulness of the Christian Revelation,' ' A Dissertation in Latin on the Interpretation of the Scriptures,' 'A Confutation of Sabellianism,' and ' Reflections on Dodwell's Whimsical Notions of the Natural Mor tality of the Soul.' He, moreover, wrote tracts on politics, was a warm friend of the Revolution, and approved and defended the oath of alle giance required on the accession of William III. 33is|)0p Ittttttttt. « BORN A.D. 1660. DIED A.D. 1728. This learned prelate was born at Dover on the 10th of August, 1660. After having acquired the rudiments of education at Eleham and Wye, he was removed to Westminster school, and, in 1678, was entered of St Edmund's-hall, Oxford. In 1680 he gave offence to the whigs by publishing, ' A Letter from a Student at Oxford to a Friend in the 246 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth Country,' and, in the following year, aggravated them farther, by pro ducing a tory ballad on the dissolution of parliament. He took his de gree of B. A. in 1682, and soon afterwards published a translation of Erasmus's ' Moriee Encomium,' or Panegyric upon Folly. In 1684 he printed a - Life of Chabrias,' and became curate of Burrester. In 1685 he proceeded M. A., and was presented to the vicarage of Amersden by Sir William Glynne, to whom, in 1686, he dedicated a translation of ' Pliny's Panegyric upon Trajan,' which was by some considered as an indirect eulogium on James II. To the reflections made against this performance, we find the follow ing answer by the author, in a postscript to the translation of his convo cation sermon in 1710: "The remarker says, the doctor dedicated ' Pliny's Panegyric' to the late King James : And what if he did ? Only it appears he did not. This is an idle tale among the party, who, per haps, have told it till they believe it : when the truth is there was no such dedication, and the translation itself of Pliny was not designed for any court-address. The young translator's tutor, Mr Allam, directed his pupil, by way of exercise, to turn some Latin tracts into English. The first was a little book of Erasmus, entitled, ' Moriae Encomium,' which the tutor was pleased to give to a bookseller in Oxford, who put it in the press while the translator was an under-graduate. Another sort of task required by his tutor was this ' Panegyric of Pliny upon Trajan,' which he likewise gave to a bookseller in Oxford, before the translator was M. A., designing to have it published in the reign of King Charles ; and a small cut of that prince, at full length, was pre pared, and afterwards put before several of the books, though the im pression happened to be retarded till the death of King Charles, and then the same tutor, not long before his own death, advised a new pre face adapted to the then received opinion of King James's being a just and good prince. However, there was no dedication to King James, but to a private person, a worthy baronet, who came in heartily to the beginning of the ' late happy Revolution.' " In 1689 he received a severe injury from the bursting of a gun, which rendered the operation of trepanning necessary, and occasioned him constantly to wear a black velvet patch over the injured part. In 1691, having previously become tutor and vice-principal ofhis college, he was chosen lecturer of St Martin's, Oxford ; and, in 1693, he ob tained the rectory of Shottesbrook in Berkshire, but still continued to reside at the university, devoting a great portion of his time to anti quarian researches, and the study of Saxon and the northern tongues.,-. About this time he wrote a life of Somers, and subsequently published^ ' Parochial Antiquities,' and ' Sir Henry Spelman's History and Fate of Sacrilege,' with additional authorities. Having been admitted B. D. in 1694, he proceeded to the degree of D. D. in 1699. In 1700 he was appointed, without any solicitation on his part, minister of St Botolph, Aldgate. In the following year he became archdeacon of Huntingdon, and acquired great reputation among the low-churchmen, by engaging in a dispute with Atterbury on the rights of convocation. In 1703 he created much clamour by a discourse on clerical privileges ; and, two years after, preached Dr Wake's consecration sermon, which chief-jus tice Holt said, " had more in it, to the purpose, of the legal and chris tian constitution of the church, than any volume of discourses." In P-dUOD.! BISHOP KENNETT. 247 1706, some booksellers having undertaken to print a collection of Eng lish history as far as to the reign of Charles I., Dr Kennett was em ployed to carry the history down to the reign of Queen Anne, which he did ; and the whole was published, in 1706, in three folio volumes, binder the title of ' A Complete History of England.' In the following year he was appointed a royal chaplain, and preached a funeral sermon on the first duke of Devonshire, of which it was said, that he had " built a bridge to heaven for men of wit and parts, but had excluded the duller part of mankind from any chance of passing it." This sin gular charge was grounded on the following passage : — speaking of a late repentance, he says, " This rarely happens but in men of distin guished sense and judgment. Ordinary abilities may be altogether sunk by a long vicious course of life : the duller flame is easily extin guished. The meaner sinful wretches are commonly given up to a re probate mind, and die as stupidly as they lived ; while the nobler and brighter parts have an advantage of understanding the worth of their souls before they resign them. If they are allowed the benefit of sick ness, they commonly awake out of their dream of sin, and reflect, and look upward. They acknowledge an infinite Being ; they feel their own immortal part ; they recollect and relish the holy scriptures ; they call for the elders ofthe church ; they think what to answer at a judg ment-seat. Not that God is a respecter of persons, but the difference is in men ; and the more intelligent nature is, the more susceptible of the Divine grace." • Such a passage as this is well calculated to do infinite injury to those whom it may have been originally intended to compli ment and soothe. The new duke of Devonshire now procured for Kennett the deanery of Peterborough. He declined to join in the London clergy's address to the queen in 1710; and surprised and mortified his old tory friends by the part which he took against Sacheverell. Among other offensive expedients adopted by the high-churchmen to render him odious, he was depicted as Judas Iscariot, in an altar-piece, representing the last supper, at Whitechapel church, to which vast crowds were consequent ly attracted, until the bishop of London properly directed that the painting should be removed. In 1713, he made a large collection of books and maps, for the pur pose of preparing a ' History of the Propagation of Christianity in Eng lish America ;' and, about the same time, founded an antiquarias and historical library at Peterborough. In 1715, he published a discourse ' On the Witchcraft of the Rebellion ;' and, although his conduct and doctrines were in some respects offensive to the new government, he was promoted, in 1718, to the bishopric of Peterborough, which he held during the remainder of his life. He died on the 19th of Decem ber, 1728. The marquess of Lansdowne purchased the whole of his valuable manuscripts, which were, eventually, deposited in the British Museum. 240 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. Sam Samuel Clarfet. BORN A. D. 1675.— DIED A. D. 1729. This learned divine of the episoopal church of England, was born at Norwich, October 11th, 1675. His father, Edward Clarke, was an alderman at Norwich, and represented that city in several successive parliaments. The mother of Dr Clarke was the daughter of Mr Samuel Parmenter, merchant in the same city. The subject of this memoir received his early education at the grammar-school of Norwich, a seminary which has sent forth some of our ablest scholars. He is said to have given early promise of his subsequent intellectual greatness ; and, in particular, to have been_distinguished by his youthful proficiency in the study of the classics. At the age of sixteen he was sent to the university of Cambridge, and became a member of Caius college. Here he was plaeed under the tuition of Mr, afterwards Sir, John Ellis. At the age of twenty, he engaged in a great and somewhat hazardous un dertaking ; in which, however, his ingenious audacity was crowned with complete success. The physics of Des Cartes were then the orthodox philosophy of Cambridge ; although they had been powerfully assailed by Barrow in one of his college-exercises, and had received a still ruder shock by the publication of the 'Principia' of Newton, in 1687. The university was slow to adopt the demonstrated discoveries of the great est of her sons ; and, some years after, we find Whiston complaining that when Gregory had already introduced the Newtonian physics at Oxford, " we at Cambridge, poor wretches, were ignominiously study ing the fictitious hypotheses of the Cartesians." The Cambridge text book in natural philosophy was at that time the physics of Rohault, " a work," says Professor Playfair, "entirely Cartesian." "A new and more elegant translation of the same book," continues the Professor, " was published by Dr (Mr) Samuel Clarke, with the addition of notes, in which that profound and ingenious writer explained the views of Newton on the principal subjects of discussion, so that the notes con tained virtually a refutation of the text : they did so, however, only Virtually, all appearance of argument and controversy being carefully avoided. Whether this escaped the notice of the learned Doctors or not is uncertain ; but the new translation, from its better Latinity, and the name of the editor,1 was readily admitted to all the academical honours which the old one had enjoyed. Thus the stratagem of Dr Clarke completely succeeded ; the tutor might prelect from the text, but the pupil would sometimes look into the notes ; and error is never so sure of being exposed, as when the truth is placed close to it, side by side, without any thing to alarm prejudice, or awaken from its leth argy the dread of innovation." Having fixed upon divinity as his pros fession, Mr Clarke applied very closely to the study of the scriptures 1 The learned Professor here commits an error. " The name of the editor" could have been no recommendation to the book when first published; for Clarke was then a young and undistinguished man. This error probably arose out of Mr F)ayfair"s mistake respect ing the date of this publication. It was not 1718, as he states, but 1697, See Hoadly » Life of Clarke. Brewster's Life of Sir Isaac Newton. P«mod.] SAMUEL CLARKE. 249 in the original tongues, and of the early Christian fathers. Soon after his ordination, he was appointed domestic chaplain to Dr John Moore, bishop of Norwioh. This situation he retained, twelve years ; during which period, and, indeed up to the death of Dr Moore, the warmest friendship subsisted between the bishop and his clerical subaltern. At his death, Dr Moore left all the affairs of his family to be arranged and settled by Mr Clarke, — a striking mark of respect and affection. In 1699 appeared the first theological works of Mr Clarke ; one of df fifty pounds. He published many occasional sermons during the pe riod of his forty years' ministry in London. Dr Calamy was twice married, and had six children. One of his sons, who bore the name of Edmund, was educated for the ministry among the dissenters, and officiated many years at Crosby-square as an assistant to Dr Grosvenor. Another son, Mr Adam Calamy, was bred to the law, and was one of the earliest writers in the Gentleman's Magazine, under the signature of " A Consistent Protestant." Dr Calamy died June 3d, 1732, at the age of sixty-two. BORN A.D. 1657. — DIED A.D. 1737. This eminent prelate was born in 1657 at Blandford in Dorsetshire. He received his university education at Christ-church, Oxford, where he took the degree of B. A. in 1676, and that of M. A. in 1679. His father wished him to enter into business as a clothier ; but, preferring the ministry, he was allowed to obtain ordination. In 1682 he visited Paris, as chaplain to Viscount Preston, envoy- extraordinary. Soon after his return to England, he was elected preacher to the society of Gray's-inn ; contrary, as it appears, to the express desire of James II., to whom he had given offence by his spir ited ' Exposition of the Doctrine of the Church of England ;' in which he had closely imitated the style, and exposed the sophisms of Bossuet, bishop of Meaux. After having published several other pieces against the Roman catholic faith, he proceeded to the degree of B. D. and D.D.; became one of the royal chaplains, and deputy-clerk of the closet to William and Mary ; and obtained a canonry of Christ-church in room of Dr Aldrich. In 1693 he produced ' An English version of the genuine Epistles of the Apostolical Fathers ;' which exposed him to an attack from Dr Middleton. In 1694 he was presented to the rectory of St James's, Westminster; and, three years afterwards, appeared his ' Authority of Christian Princes over their Ecclesiastical Synods, asserted with particular respect to the convocations of the clergy of the Church of England.1 This work was speedily followed by his ' Vindi cation of the King's Supremacy against both Popish and Fanatical op posers ;' as a reward for which, perhaps, he was promoted by the crown in -1701, to the deanery of Exeter. His doctrines had already been vehemently attacked by Atterbury and others ; in opposition to whom, he published a work in 1703, entitled, ' The State of the Church, and the Clergy of England considered ;' which, it is said, decided the con test in his favour. In 1705 he was promoted to the bishopric of Lincoln ; and, being a strenuous opponent to high-church principles, warmly concurred in the prosecution and punishment of Sacheverell, and advocated the propo sal for a comprehension with the dissenters. A few months after the accession of George I. he was raised to the primacy on the death of Tenison. He now wrote and spoke against the proposed repeal of the schism act, which, previously, during its progress through the house of Period.] HENRY GROVE. 271 lords, he had warmly opposed. His first speech from the episcopal bench had been in favour of a compromise with the dissenters ; but he now resisted the repeal of the conformity bill ; insisted on the necessity of continuing the test and corporation acts ; and, in conjunction with Lord Nottingham, brought in a bill for imposing a new test against Arian opinions, although in the cases of Whiston and Clarke, in 1711 and 1712, he had spoken with moderation of their peculiar views. In 1717 he formed a scheme for uniting the English and Gallican churches, and entered into a secret correspondence on the subject with Dupin, De Noailles, and others, through the medium of Beauvoir, chaplain to the British ambassador at Paris. The negotiation had pro ceeded so far, that a plan for the proposed union had been read and approved of in the Sorbonne : when the affair being made public, a clamour was raised against De Noailles and his friends, for attempting, as it was said, to bring about a coalition with heretics ; and the French government, which, from temporary political motives, had appeared to encourage the design, sent the whole of Archbishop Wake's letters to the pope, who is stated to have greatly admired the catholic spirit and ability displayed by the writer. The reader will find a detailed account of this scheme of the archbishop in the appendix to ' Mosheim's Ec clesiastical History.' Soon after the failure of this, his favourite pro ject, which exposed him to great vituperation, the primate corresponded relatively to a proposed union between the Roman catholics and the Lutherans, with Jablonski, the Pole, whom he earnestly exhorted not to enter into any arrangement with the church of Rome, except on a footing of perfect equality, and not to sacrifice truth for a temporal advantage, or even to a desire of peace. On account of his infirmities during the latter years of his life, the duties of the primacy were, for the most part, performed by Gibson, bishop of London. He lingered in a most enfeebled state, until the 24th of January, 1737, when he expired at Lambeth palace. He be queathed his valuable collection of books, manuscripts, and ancient coins, to the society of Christ-church, Oxford. Besides the works al ready mentioned, he was the author of several tracts against the doc trines of the Romish church, and two or three volumes of sermons. BORN A.D. 1683. DIED A.D. 1737. This learned nonconforming divine was born at Taunton in Somer setshire, in January, 1683. He was descended from the Groves of Wiltshire, and the Rowes of Devonshire, — two families well-known in the annals of their country for their bold and uncompromising attach ment to the great principles of religious and civil liberty. His tutors were Warren of Taunton, and Thomas Rowe of London. At the age of twenty-two Mr Grove began to preach, and soon be came very popular. In 1706 he succeeded Mr Warren in the tutor ship of the academy at Taunton. Here he resided eighteen years, during which period he preached to two small congregations in the neighbourhood upon a salary of only £20 per annum. His first publics- 272 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth tion was an essay, which he had drawn up as an academical lecture, on ' The Regulation of Diversions,' and which he gave to the public in 1708. Soon after this he engaged in a correspondence with Dr Clarke on some points of the discourse by the latter, ' On the Being and At tributes of God.' In 1718 he published ' An Essay towards a De monstration of the Soul's Immateriality.' In 1723 he published ' A Discourse on Secret Prayer, in several sermons,' which has been va lued for its argumentative and rhetorical style. In ] 730 he gave to the public two works, one on ' The Evidence of our Saviour's Resurreo tion,' and the other entitled, ' Some Thoughts concerning the proof of a Future State.' These were followed by several other volumes on re ligious subjects, the most important of which is one under the title of ' Wisdom the first spring of action in the Deity.' Mr Grove died in his fifty-fifth year. His nephew, Mr Amory, published his 'Posthumous Works,' in 1740, in four volumes, and his 'System of Moral Philosophy,' as delivered in the Taunton academy; in two volumes, in 1749. His entire works form ten volumes, 8vo< Mr Grove contributed a few papers to Addison's ' Spectator,' and we find the following anecdote with respect to one of them in Boswell's ' Life of Johnson.' The Doctor mentioned, relates the biographer, " with an air of satisfaction, what Baretti had told him, tbat, meeting in the course of his studying English, with an excellent paper in the Spec tator, one of four that were written by the respectable dissenting min ister, Mr Grove of Taunton, and observing the genius and energy of mind that it exhibits, it greatly quickened his curiosity to visit our country ; as he thought, if such were the lighter periodical essays of our authors, their productions, on more weighty occasions, must be wonderful indeed." Dr Johnson himself has pronounced Mr Grove's paper, No. 626, ' On Novelty,' to be " one of the finest pieces in the English language.'' The concluding number of the Spectator is the composition of Mr Grove. Msbop man. died a. d. 1740. No particulars can now be collected respecting the early life of Francies Hare. The time and place of his birth. are equally unknown. We first hear of him at Eton school, where he received the rudiments of education preparatory to the university. In due time he was enter ed at King's college, Cambridge, and became a fellow of that founda tion. While in this capacity, he was entrusted with the tuition of the marquis of Blandford, the only son of the duke of Marlborough, aud, by the duke was appointed chaplain-general to the army. In regular course he took the degree of doctor of divinity. By reason of his connexion with the army, his thoughts were turn ed into the channel of politics ; and he first appeared, as an author, in defending the war and the measures of the whig administration. His writings on these subjects were chiefly published before the year 1712. He wrote ' The Barrier Treaty vindicated,' and also a treatise in four parts, entitled ' The Allies and the late Ministry, defended against PeiUOD.] BISHOP HARE. 273 France and the present Friends of France.' These tracts are said to have been much altered and amended by Maynwaring, and printed under the eye of Oldmixon. They were serviceable to the war interest, in opposition to the strictures of Swift, and the efforts of the tory party. Tindal often refers to them, in his continuation of Rapin, as valuable historical documents respecting that period. In the discharge of his official duties, Hare followed the army to Flanders ; but how long he remained there, or when he resigned his station as chaplain-general, does not appear. Soon after the publica tion of his political pieces, we find him advanced to the deanery of Worcester, and engaging with great warmth as the coadjutor of Sherlock, Potter, Snape, and others, in the famous Bangorian controversy. About four years after Hoadly preached his sermon on the kingdom of Christ, when the controversy to which it gave rise had already raged to an ex traordinary height, Hare published an elaborate discourse, in the form of a sermon on ' Church Authority.' In this discourse, Hoadly saw, or fancied he saw, many artful though indirect attacks on his sermon, and its whole tenor was opposite to the principles wbich he had avow ed and defended. Nothing more was wanting to rouse the spirit of Hoadly. He replied to the discourse on church authority, with his usual ability, and perhaps with more than his usual acrimony. Hare contented himself at first with a few strictures on Hoadly's reply, in a postscript to the succeeding edition of his discourse, in which argument abounds less than wit, and dignity less than satire. This was intended only as a feint to draw the public attention away from the arguments of Hoadly, till he should have time to prepare a more formal answer. This was published about a year afterwards, under the title of ' Scrip ture vindicated from the Mi -interpretations of the Lord Bishop of Ban gor.' Formidable for its learning and its length, this answer was not wanting in candour and soberness, excepting perhaps some parts of the preface, in which the reader is too often reminded of the postscript. In the Bangorian controversy our author sent out another piece, called ' A New Defence of the Lord Bishop of Bangor's Sermon.' The title is ironical, and such is the general tenor of the production itself. The writer feigns a deep concern for the fate of Hoadly's sermon, and is sur prised that neither he nor his friends have hit on a mode of defending it, which he kindly suggests, and which is no other than to prove from its numerous defects, that it was composed in great haste, and given to the public without revision. In the year 1727, Dr Hare was advanced to the bishopric of St Asaph, having been previously removed from the deanery of Worces ter to that of St Paul's. He was translated to the see of Chichester in 1731, wliich, together with the deanery of St Paul's, he retained till his death. During his residence at the university, and for some time afterwards, a warm friendship subsisted between him and Dr Bentley. When he went into Holland as chaplain-general of the army,. Bentley put into his hands a copy of his notes and emendations to Menander and Philemon, to be delivered to Burman, the celebrated professor at Leyden. Bent ley also dedicated to Hare his ' Remarks on the Essay of Free-think ing,' which essay was supposed to have been written by Collins, formerly Hare's pupil. With this dedication he was much gratified, and return- IV. 2 M 274 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES, [SlXTH ed a flattering letter of thanks to the author. Unluckily this friendship was not destined to be of long continuance. It was interrupted and finally broken off, for reasons not well-known, but, as Dr Salter insinu ates, not very creditable to either party. As their evil stars would have it, they fell on the design of writing notes to the same authors. Hare had published an edition of Terence, and was preparing his fav ourite Phsedrus for the press, when he was surprised by the intelligence, that his friend Bentley was engaged with both of these authors, and would shortly bring them out together. What real grounds of dissatisfac tion existed on either side, or where the greatest blame belongs, cannot now be ascertained. No more can be said, than that an irreconcileable enmity followed. Bentley left out the dedication in the second edition of his remarks, and mentions not Hare's name in his Terence. Hare did not fall behind his antagonist in the violence of his dislike, nor in his pains to make it public. His ' Epistola Critica,' addressed to Dr Blind, is a professed attack on Bentley 's ' Phsedrus,' although, in addition to some trifling, and much profound criticism on that work, it is made a vehicle of spleen and personal censure. He boasts of convicting Bent ley of ignorance, plagiarism, and all the sins to which an author can be tempted ; and, not satisfied with achievements like these, he proceeds to assert, and prove, that the world had been egregiously mistaken in its estimate of the editor's scholarship and critical sagacity. He is sur prised beyond measure, that any thing so imperfect as Bentley's ' Phse drus,' should come from a man of such reputed erudition. The only branch of knowledge in which he allows Bentley to excel, is that ofthe Greek metres, and the mysteries of Greek verse. Here he permits him to sit in the chair of pre-eminence. He takes care, however, to deduct as much as he can from. the value of this concession, first, by charging Bentley with the folly of holding the learning of all other men in con tempt who do not consider this kind of knowledge as the greatest hu man attainment ; and, secondly, by going to the other extreme, and pretending that it is comparatively worth nothing. A work on which Bishop Hare bestowed more pains than any other, perhaps, was his system of metres in Hebrew poetry, first published in connexion with the Hebrew psalms, divided ia conformity with his notion of their measures. Josephus and Philo maintained that the poetry of the He brews had metres similar to those of the classical poetry of other na tions, and in this opinion they were followed by others among the ancients, particularly Origen and Jerome. The opinion made its way silently among the learned till the time of Joseph Scaliger, who set himself in earnest to confute it, alleging at the same time, that it had never been proved, that it rested on assertion, and only held its ground because it had never been opposed. His discussion awakened curiosity, and opened a new theatre on which were to be displayed the skill and talents of the orientalists. Many theories were started, and as many exploded ; some critics found every imaginable perfection of art and taste in the poetical numbers of the Hebrews ; others met with no success in the search, and zealously maintained, that the poets of Israel did not model their compositions after any principles like those of the classic metres, but were guided by such rules only as the judg ment and taste of each writer might suggest. Gomar was one of the most successful metrical adventurers. He discovered both metre and I'riilOD.] BISHOP HARE. 275 rhyme ; Buxtorff and Heinsius approved his work. Cappel and Pfeiffer wrote against it, and gave equal satisfaction to the opposite party. Le Clerc was for rhyme without metre ; a scheme more untenable in the opinion of Bishop Lowth than any other. He had some followers, but was op posed by Calmet and Dacier. In England, Bishop Hare was the first who entered deeply into this subject ; and, after having examined it to the bottom, he proposed a new theory of Hebrew metres, which he fondly imagined would reconcile all differences, and restore the poetry of the Bible to its pristine dignity and perfection. When he published his Psalter, however, with a full exposition of his scheme, he had the mortification to find that it was coldly received by the public. Not withstanding the little attention which Hare's hypothesis attracted at first, it was regarded with great respect by the learned, as is manifest from the testimony of Bishop Lowth, who deemed it worthy of a la boured confutation. " The arguments advanced in its favour," says Lowth, " appeared so conclusive to some persons of great erudition, as to persuade them, that the learned prelate had fortunately revived the knowledge ofthe true Hebrew versification, after an oblivion of more than two thousand years ; and that he had established his opinion by such irresistible proofs, as to place it beyond the utmost efforts of con troversy." Lowth undertook to prove this a delusion and to over throw the scheme itself. Public sentiment has for the most part ac quiesced in his arguments and decisions. Hare's hypothesis found a strenuous advocate in Dr Edwards, who wrote a Latin treatise in its defence, to which Lowth replied in what he called his ' Larger Confu tation.' Dr Hare's most celebrated performance is a treatise entitled ' The Difficulties and Discouragements which attend the Study of the Scrip tures, in the Way of Private Judgment.' This was published without his name, soon after his return from Holland, and took so well with the public, that it speedily ran through several editions. It was ac counted the finest specimen of irony in the language ; and, if we ex cept Hoadly's ' Dedication to the Pope,' which came out shortly after, no piece in its way has probably since appeared, which would not suf fer by comparison. Some persons affected not to understand him ; they were disposed to take his irony in earnest, and forward to whisper suspicions and discontent in the ears of the convocation. It is not known that any evils ensued to the author ; he had clearly stated it to be his object, by showing the discouragements attending the study of the scriptures, to impress on individuals and religious societies the im portant duty of removing these discouragements. His concluding re marks abundantly evince his sincerity, and are uttered in a tone of seriousness, and with a concern for the interests of religious knowledge, which it would seem impossible to misapprehend. Bishop Hare died in 1740, his works were collected and published in 1746, in four vol umes octavo. He that shall judge Bishop Hare by his writings, will heartily res pond to the eulogy of Blackwall, who calls him a " sound critic, con summate scholar, and a bright ornament of the church and nation." It is presumed that there have been few better classical scholars, although he may not have towered to the height of his gigantic rival, Dr Bentley. His Latinity claims the praise of elegance and purity. His political 276 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth tracts bear marks of a vigorous intellect, and an acuteness in some of the deeper principles of government. In controversy we have seen that he is less successful ; we are oftener fatigued than convinced, — ver bal disquisitions come upon us in the guise of arguments, — learning is expended 'to show the extent of learning, — materials abound, knowledge, mental energy, force of language, but they are awkwardly applied. Mt Micfyatti Mmtltp. BORN A. D. 1661-62 DIED A.D. 1742. Richard Bentley, a celebrated critic and theologian, was born January 27th, 1661-62, at Oulton, not far from Wakefield, in the West riding of Yorkshire. His father, Thomas Bentley, possessed ah estate at Woodlesford, a township in the same parish with Oulton. His mother's maiden-name was Willie. She is recorded to have been a woman of an excellent understanding, and by her it is said that Bentley was taught the rudiments of the Latin grammar. He was afterwards sent to the grammar-school at Wakefield. On the death of his father, Bentley, then thirteen years of age, was committed to the care of his maternal grandfather, by whom he was sent, in the following year, (1676,) to St John's college, Cambridge. After the regular period of residence and study, Bentley commenced Bachelor of Arts, and obtained in the list of honours a position corresponding with that of third wrangler, according to the present method of designation. He was precluded from a fellowship by a statute, then and long after in force at St John's college, which restricted the number of fellows from each county to two. At the age of twenty, however, he was appoint ed by his college to the head-mastership of the grammar-school of Spalding, in Lincolnshire. This situation he retained for a twelve month, at the end of which he accepted the office of domestic tutor to the son of Dr Edward Stillingfleet, then dean of St Paul's, and after wards bishop of Worcester. In 1663, Bentley proceeded Master of Arts. During his residence with Dr Stillingfleet, he seems to have prosecuted his studies with extraordinary vigour and success. He in forms us that " before he was twenty-four years of age, he wrote a sort of' Hexapla;' a thick volume in quarto, in the first column of which he inserted every word of the Hebrew bible alphabetically ; and in five other columns, all the various interpretations of- those words in the Chaldee, Syriac, Vulgate, Latin, Septuagint, and Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion, that occur in the whole bible. This he made for his own use, to know the Hebrew, not from the late Rabbins, but from the ancient versions ; when, bating Arabic, Persic; and Ethiopic, he read over the whole Polyglot." In 1689, Dr Stillingfleet — now become bishop of Worcester — sent his son to the university of Oxford, accom panied by Bentley as his private tutor. Both tutor and pupil enter ed Wadham college, where shortly after Bentley was incorporated Master of Arts, as holding the same degree in the university of Cam bridge. At Oxford, he became acquainted with many scholars of dis tinguished abilities and erudition ; and enjoyed the privilege of unre stricted access to the Bodleian library, the principal manuscripts of Period.] DR RICHARD BENTLEY. 277 which he seems to have examined with indefatigable industry. Amo.ig the literary projects which at this early age his gigantic ambition prompted him to form, we find mention of new editions of Greek grammarians and Latin poets; a complete collection ofthe Fragments ofthe Greek .poets; and a republication ofthe Greek lexicographers, in four volumes, folio. In 1690, he took deacon's orders, and was soon after appointed chaplain to his patron the bishop of Worcester. In the following year appeared the earliest publication of Bentley ; — his cele brated ' Epistola ad clarum virum Joannem Millium,' appended to the Oxford edition of the ' Chronicle of Joannes Malelas Antiochenus.' This tractate, though of limited extent, established his reputation throughout Europe, as a critic of the very highest order of excellence. When we consider the number of topics discussed — of which many were among the most obscure and intricate within the whole range of philolo gical criticism, — the reach and originality of his speculations on questions supposed to have been exhausted by the learning and sagacity ofhis pre decessors, — the prodigious display of erudition, apparently not less exten sive and incomparably more accurate than that of Salmasius, Scaliger, or Casaubon,^-the close, irresistible logic with which he supports all his discoveries and conclusions, — and the animation ofhis style,which throws a charm and liveliness over subjects naturally the most devoid of in terest, we may safely pronounce the * Epistle to Dr Mill,' to be one of the most extraordinary performances in the entire compass of classical literature. Indeed; but for one of the subsequent productions of the same author, it would have remained to this day unrivalled. It was greeted immediately with the loudest commendations by Grcevius, and Ezekiel Spanheim ; and has ever since been spoken of by the first critics with reverence and wonder. (See in particular, Ruhnken's preface to ' Alberti's Hesychius.') In 1692, Bentley was nominated by the trustees of the honourable Robert Boyle, to preach the first series of lectures in conformity with the testamentary instructions of that eminent philosopher ; an honour to which he frequently adverts with evident exultation. His sermons were professedly in confutation of atheism, with a more direct and specific aim at the metaphysical im pieties of Hobbes and Spinosa. They display the peculiar talents of Bentley to the greatest advantage. His universal reading had sup plied him with exact and copious information on all the numerous to pics connected with his " great argument," and the native vigour of his understanding enabled him to reason down his adversaries with a force and clearness which have never been surpassed. In the seventh and eighth sermons he applies the doctrines of the Newtonian physics — which at that time were scarcely heard of beyond the circle of the learned — to the support and illustration of natural theology ; and in no part of the work does his acute and powerful intellect appear in a more commanding attitude than in this. Before the publication of these discourses, he entered into a correspondence with Newton, on some of the points adverted to in these two sermons ; and the letters which on this occasion passed between the first critic, and the first philosopher of the age, are eminently interesting and" instructive. In the same year Bentley received a prebend in Worcester cathedral. Shortly after he was made keeper of the royal library at St James's, and re-appointed Boylean lecturer. In 1695, he was made chaplaiH 278 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth in ordinary to the king. In the following year he fulfilled a promise of some standing by transmitting to Grcevius his notes and emenda tions on Callimachus, together with a complete collection of the frag. ments of that poet. The erudition and critical acumen displayed in these contributions to his friend's edition, were such as fully to sustain his reputation as the first scholar of modern times. We now proceed to give a succinct account Of the memorable con troversy respecting the ' Epistles of Phalaris.' The relative merits of ancient and modern writers had furnished a topic of dispute among the French literati. Sir William Temple — an English statesman of high reputation, whose essays, though not remarkable for intellectual vigour and profundity, are written in an agreeable, degage style — interposed on the side of the ancients, and cited the ' Epistles of Phalaris,' and the ' Fables of ^Esop,' as conspicuous instances of the superiority of the old literature to the new. He was answered by Wotton, an early friend of Bentley's, whose youthful attainments, prodigious, and almost incredible, had excited expectations which his subsequent performances failed to satisfy. His reply to Sir William Temple, though deficient in vivacity and elegance, is written with ability ; and in all the more solid qualities of critical and argumentative disquisition, is immeasur ably superior to the more brilliant essay of the statesman. While en gaged upon this treatise, he was assured by Bentley that the two in stances alleged by Sir William Temple were peculiarly infelicitous; since the pretended 'iEsopian Fables' were not iEsop's, and the ' Epistles of Phalaris' were the forgery of an ignorant sophist of a later age. Upon this, Wotton extracted from his friend a promise to maintain this position in an appendix to the forthcoming dissertation,!; From a variety of circumstances, however, the first edition of Wotton's book was published without Bentley's promised contribution. About this time, a new edition -of the ' Letters of Phalaris' was pre paring at Christ-church college, Oxford, and the honourable Charles Boyle, brother to the earl of Orrery, and one of the most promising students in the college, was selected as the editor. As the library at St James's contained a manuscript of the ' Epistles,' Mr Boyle wrote to one Bennett, a London bookseller, " to get this manuscript collated." The bookseller, after much negligence, and many delays on his part, procured the manuscript ; but, though admonished by Bentley to lose no time in making the collation, he conducted the business with such inexcusable carelessness, that forty only out of the 148 epistles were finished when the manuscript was returned. To shelter himself, he inJ' formed the Oxford editor that he had obtained the use of the manu script with the utmost difficulty, and that he was not permitted to re tain it long enough to make the required collation. As Bentley, in answer to a question from the bookseller, had expressed his opinion of the spuriousness and worthlessness of the ' Epistles,' Bennett took care to represent this to Mr Boyle as a studied disparagement both of the work and the editor. Hence, when the new edition appeared, the pre face was found to contain the following stroke at Bentley : " collatas etiam curavi usque ad Epist. XL cum MSto. in Bibliotheca Regia, cujus mihi copiam ulteriorem Bibliothecarius, pro singulars sua humanitale, negavit." When apprised of this aspersion upon his character, Bentley wrote immediately to Mr Boyle ; and explained Period.] DR RICHARD BENTLEY. 279 the true merits of the whole transaction. To this, Mr Boyle replied, " that what Mr Bentley had said, might be true, but that the book seller had represented the matter quite otherwise," and that " Mr Bentley might seek his redress in any method be pleased." 1 In 1697, a new edition of ' Wotton's Reply to Sir William Temple' was demand ed. For this the author required Dr Bentley to furnish his promised dissertation on the spuriousness of the 'Fables of ^Esop,' and the ' Epistles of Phalaris ;' and when the critic would have declined on the ground of his unwillingness to engage in a quarrel with the Oxford editors, Wotton refused to admit the excuse. Accordingly, the second edition of the 'Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learning,' was accompanied by a dissertation from the pen of Dr Bentley, in demon stration of the spuriousness of the - Epistles of Phalaris,' the ' Fables of j-Esop,' and the ' Letters of Themistocles, of Socrates, and of Euri pides.' After noticing in a somewhat contemptuous style the judg ment which Sir William Temple had pronounced in favour of two of these pretended originals, and giving an account of the manner in which literary forgeries were anciently practised, he proceeds to the ' Epistles of Phalaris.' The four leading arguments from which he con cludes against their genuineness are drawn from the chronology, the language, the matter, and the late appearance of the epistles. After assigning the age of Phalaris to the lowest period which authentic history will admit, he collects from the epistles a number of refer ences to events and expressions, all of them considerably posterior to the death of the tyrant. He next attacks the Attic style and dialect of the pretended Phalaris, as manifestly out of character in a Dorian prince, and, besides, inconsistent with the very Atticism of the age of Phalaris. In particular, he insists on the ludicrous confusion of the Attic and Sicilian money. In objecting to the matter of the epistles, he directly impugns the decision of Sir William Temple, — adduces several instances in which all taste, sense, and probability are set at defiance, — and affirms, in conclusion, that when reading this pseudo-Phalaris, " you feel, by the emptiness and deadness of his production, that you converse with some dreaming pedant, with his elbow on his desk ; not with an active, ambitious tyrant, with his hand on his sword, command ing a million of subjects." Finally, he argues against the authenticity of the letters from their late appearance in the world ; it being impos sible for them to have remained concealed for upwards of a thousand years, during which every species of learning was cultivated with the greatest diligence and success, and the highest rewards were bestowed on those who brought to light any of the hidden treasures of literature. He then proceeds to vindicate himself against the calumny contained in the Oxford preface, and gives a short statement of the transaction with the bookseller. He concludes the dissertation on ' Phalaris' with a severe and contemptuous animadversion upon the mistakes committed 1 Not to interrupt the continuity of our account of this memorable controversy, -we may mention in a note, that in July, 1696, Bentley took his degree of O. D. at Cam bridge. The three subjects defended by Bentley in his theological disputation on this occasion were: 1. The Mosaic account ofthe creation and the deluge. 2. The proof of divine authority, by the scripture miracles. 3. The identity of the Christian and Pla tonic Trinity. Being appointed to preach before the university, he delivered a sermon in defence of the divine revelation, which bears, throughout, the stamp of his mascu line understanding. 280 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth in the Oxford edition. He then proceeds to show that the reputed ' Letters of Themistocles, Socrates, and Euripides,' were all of them forgeries, in a strain of argument and raillery similar to that which he had employed against the pseudo-Phalaris. His last attack is made upon the 'iEsopian Fables.' In this section — confessedly the least valuable in the whole dissertation — he has added little to the observations of some of his predecessors ; and though his arguments are perfectly conclusive against the genuineness of the fables, yet, contrary to his usual custom, he left the subject far from exhausted. Considered as a whole, the dissertation must be pronounced a mas ter-piece of learning and ability, to the production of which no other writer of the age was equal. The men of Christ-church were exasper ated almost to frenzy by this bold attack upon a work which had issued from their body ; and " war to the knife," was declared against the offender. The task of replying to the Bentleian dissertation was com mitted to a junto of the ablest wits and scholars in the college, consist ing of Atterbury, Smalridge, two brothers of the name of Friend, and Anthony Alsop. The principal share of the labour is known to have devolved upon Atterbury. The performance of this doughty confe deracy appeared in March, 1698. It was entitled ' Dr Bentley's Dis sertations on the Epistles of Phalaris, and the Fables of Msop, examin ed by the honourable Charles Boyle, Esq.' It is impossible to deny the praise of wit, ingenuity, and adroitness to this production. It ex hibits innumerable specimens of every kind of ingenious and power ful satire, from the lightest vein of sportive pleasantry, up to the most unsparing and merciless invective. But it is disfigured throughout with the grossest blunders on every point of philological learning; and lies open to the still heavier charge of resorting to all the artifices of mis representation, in order to blacken the character of an honourable anta gonist. It was received, however, by the literary world, with a *' tempest of applause." a Wits and witlings, poets, mathematicians, and antiquaries, concurred in celebrating the imaginary triumph ofthe Oxonians, and persecuting the great critic who was soon to crush them at a blow. The only one of all these virulent attacks which continues to be read, is the ' Battle of the Books,' by Swift ; an exquisite speci men of raillery and satire, conceived and executed in the dean's hap piest manner. The Boylean corps, however, had reckoned without their host. In the beginning ofthe year 1699, appeared the unrivalled and immortal ' Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris, with an Answer to the Objections of the honourable Charles Boyle. Byi Richard Bentley, D. D.' To those who never critically, examined this truly stupendous production, it is impossible to convey an adequate conception of its merits. To affirm that it vindicates the character of Bentley in every particular on which it had been assailed, and, with one inconsiderable exception, sustains every position that he had ad vanced in the original dissertation upon Phalaris, is saying little. It is replete throughout with learning of the finest and rarest quality. The same unequalled force and subtlety of intellect which had distinguished the appendix to the ' Chronicle of Malelas,' is here exhibited to even greater advantage. The style, though wanting in harmony and ele- ¦ Burke. Pekiod.] DR RICHARD BENTLEY. 281 gance, is full of energy; and the wit and sarcasm with which the whole piece abounds, if inferior to that of his adversaries in the qualities of ease and grace, is equal, perhaps superior, in pungency. This incom parable work was, after an interval of nearly eighty years, translated into Latin by Lennep, a scholar of eminence, and one of the pupils of the illustrious Valckenaer. In February, 1700, Bentley was installed master of Trinity college, Cambridge ; an appointment which sufficiently indicates the height of re putation which he had attained. It is to be regretted, however, that. his own subsequent misconduct rendered this preferment the source of incalculable disquietude to others as well as to himself. The following year he married Joanna, daughter of Sir John Bernard of Brampton, in Huntingdonshire. A few months after, he was collated to the arch deaconry of Ely, vacant by the death of Dr Saywell. About the same time he commenced his edition of Horace. We now approach the most unpleasing part of our memoir ; — the record of those interminable quarrels and litigations between Dr Bentley and his college, which reflect so much discredit upon his character. To enter into a minute detail of circumstances almost wholly destitute of interest, and swelling into an incalculable multi tude, would extend this memoir greatly too far ; we shall, therefore, briefly notice the leading particulars, referring those who wish for ampler information to the quarto volume of Dr Monk. Against many , of the alleged instances of oppressive conduct on the part of the mas ter, nothing more can be reasonably objected than the autocratical man ner in which he behaved: the acts and regulations being just and salu tary in themselves, and wanting nothing to render them perfectly legal, but the concurrence of the seniors. But there were other proceedings for which no colourable pretext or apology can be devised. Such, on his very entrance into his mastership," was his exaction of the arrears which were unquestionably due to his predecessor ; such, his obstinacy in compelling the seniors to consent to the erection of a new and splen did staircase, after having previously involved them much against their will in heavy expenses ; his electing a profligate young man as a super numerary fellow to succeed upon a " presumed vacancy," in contra riety to the spirit of the statutes, and for the mere purpose of gratifying one of his own partizans ; his arbitrary discommuning of some of the fellows who opposed his proceedings, &c. &c. When any remonstrance- was made against these illegal and oppressive steps, he was accustomed to answer in an insolent and careless tone, as one who was resolved to tolerate no opposition to his will. Amidst all these turmoils, he found time to attend to the studies in which he was so peculiarly form ed to excel. In the summer of 1708, he addressed to his friend Ludolph Kuster who was then engaged upon an edition of AristOi phanes — ' Three Critical Epistles,' containing annotations upon the Plutus and the Nubes. Of these letters two only have reached us ; they are such, however, as to make us regret that Bentley did not him self undertake an edition of the Athenian comedian. About the same period he corresponded with Hemsterhuis, who, at the early age o« eighteen, was then engaged in the superintendence and completion of a new edition of the ' Onomasticon' of Julius Pollux. When Hemsterr huis examined the emendations of Bentley on the tenth book of the iv. 2 N 282 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth - Onomasticon,' he was struck with despair at the transcendent sagacity which they displayed ; and for a time he abandoned the study of the Greek language altogether. It is unnecessary to say with what success he afterwards resumed it. In 1709, Bentley communicated a series of valuable notes to Davies s edition of the ' Tusculan Questions of Cicero.' At the close of the year 1709, the master came into direct collision with the seniors of his col lege. He had arranged and digested a new method of dividing the college-revenues, by which his own income would have been materially raised in value. This innovation was met by the most determined op position ofthe seniors, who were headed by a lay-fellow of the name of Miller. After an illegal and ineffectual effort on the part of Dr Bent ley to eject Mr Miller from his fellowship, the question was solemnly referred by the seniors to the decision of the bishop of Ely, the ex offi cio visitor of Trinity-college. This measure drew from the master his ' Letter to the Bishop of Ely,' a pamphlet replete with the most inde cent scurrility. In the midst of these hostilities Dr Bentley found time to write his celebrated ' Emendations of Menander and Philemon.' Le Clerc, a man of very vigorous and versatile powers, but totally deficient in classical learning, had, with unparalleled temerity, undertaken a new edition ofthe 'Fragments of Menander and Philemon.' Immediately upon its publication, Dr Bentley composed his 'Emendations' of up wards of three hundred passages ofthe 'Fragments,' in which he ani madverts with sarcastic severity upon the portentous blunders of Le Clerc, and exhibits corrections of his own, evincing the most exquisite sagacity. The work was transmitted, with injunctions to secrecy, to Dr Hare, then resident in Holland, by whom it was forwarded, accord ing to the author's directions, to Peter Burman, a continental scholar of eminence. By him it was published, accompanied with a preface of his own, in which the severest chastisement is inflicted upon Le Clerc. A controversy ensued, in which many of the foreign scholars engaged, and, in general, with great virulence. The result of the whole, how ever, was to confirm and even exalt the critical reputation of Bentley. Meanwhile, articles of accusation against the master, to the number of fifty-four, having been presented to the bishop of Ely, Dr Bentley, after a few characteristic, but unsuccessful manoeuvres, boldly petitioned the queen against the bishop's jurisdiction, and affirmed that the right of visitation belonged to the crown. The decision of this question was ultimately referred to the crown-lawyers, the bishop of Ely having. been ordered to suspend, for the interim, all proceedings. After a consider able interval, the arbiters passed sentence, that the crown was the ge neral visitor of the college, but that the bishop of Ely had the right of hearing and deciding upon charges against the master. Meanwhile had been published the long-expected edition of ' Horace,' with a flaming dedication to Harley, earl of Oxford. As to the excellencies and de merits of this celebrated work, the best critics have been long agreed. It abounds with the finest specimens of inexhaustible learning, inven tive sagacity, and logical acuteness. It is miserably disfigured, how ever, by an incessant and inordinate arrogance ; it is full of violent and unsupported alterations of the text ; while its Latinity is vulnerable in a great number of instances. The errors of this latter description were collected and exposed, with much severity, in two separate publications, PehiOD.] DR RICHARD BENTLEY. 283 the one by Ker, a teacher in a dissenting academy, the other, entitled, ' Aristarchus Anti-Bentleianus,' a nom de guerre assumed by Richard Johnson, a schoolmaster at Nottingham. Bentley's violent innovations upon the text of his author, were, after a long interval, animadverted upon with great learning and bitterness in a rival edition of ' Horace,' by Alexander Cunningham. In 1713 appeared Dr Bentley's reply, under the signature of Phileleutheros Lipsiensis, to Anthony Collins'a * Discourse of Freethinking.' This, though overrated at the time, is a masterly performance. The argument, with one or two exceptions, is conducted with great force ; while his immeasurable superiority in point of learning, enables him to expose the gross and frequent blunders of Collins with the happiest success. It is worthy of remark, that in' this work he exposes with great severity an error on the part of Collins, into a repetition and obstinate, though ineffectual, defence of which, Bishop Horsley was betrayed in his controversy with Dr Priestly. Collins had translated " ab idiotis evangelistis," " by idiot evangelists," by which, says Bentley, " if he is sincere in this version, he proves him self a very idiot in the Greek and Latin acceptation of that word. iSiums, Idiota, illiteratus, indoctus, rudis. See Du Fresne in his ' Glos saries,' who takes notice, that Idiota, for an idiot, or natural fool, is pe culiar to your English law. What then must we think of our author for his scandalous translation here ?" Yet more than fifty years after the publication of this criticism, we find Bishop Horsley translating ibivm, an idiot, and vindicating this unfortunate blunder with untaine- able pertinacity. For this reply to Collins, Dr Bentley received the thanks of the university of Cambridge. In 1714, the cause between Bentley and his college was brought to trial before the bishop of Ely, and the master's discomfiture appeared inevitable, but the sudden death of the bishop placed the matter once more sub judice. Fresh articles were prepared against the master, but the new bishop disclaimed all jurisdiction in the cause. -In 1715, Dr Bentley preached and pub lished his great sermon on popery, of which the logic is scarcely inferior to that of Chillingworth, while for spirit and eloquence it may bear a comparison with the best productions of South ; of its learning it is enough to say, that it is worthy of Bentley. When the regius professorship of divinity fell vacant, in 1717, by the death of Dr James, the master of Trinity, by a series of the most dex terous manoauvres, obtained it in spite of obstacles apparently insur mountable. On this occasion he delivered a prelection on the disputed text respecting the heavenly witnesses. It is proved beyond a doubt that he decided against its genuineness. In the same year, the master incurred additional odium, by demanding an extra fee of four guineas from each of the " incepting" doctors of divinity. This demand was undoubtedly illegal, though some specious arguments were alleged in its support. It was resisted by most of the candidates for the degree, and more particularly by Conyers Middleton, a man of great scholar ship and powerful talents. They were most of them, however, prevail ed upon to pay the sum, on receiving a written promise from the mas ter that he would refund it, should his claim be found untenable. As Bentley refused to listen to expostulation, Dr Middleton commenced against him a process in the vice-chancellor's court, for the recovery of .the exacted fee, and a decree for arresting the master was issued. This 284 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth decree he contemptuously disobeyed ; on which the vice-chancellor, with the concurrence of his assessors, pronounced him " suspended ab omni gradu suscepto." On his refusal to make proper reparation, the senate, by a large majority, deprived him of all his degrees. A paper war en sued, in which Mr Middleton distinguished himself as a controversialist of consummate ability. By a scandalous misappropriation of the col lege-funds, the master of Trinity succeeded in buying off one of his most formidable opponents, Serjeant Miller. He was guilty, at the same time, of a series of unjust and tyrannical measures, the only object of which was to reward his own partizans, and gratify his resentment against his opponents. In 1720, we find him busily employed upon a great undertaking which he had projected some years before. This was the preparation of an edition of the New Testament, the text of which should be restored to almost primitive correctness. With this view, he *iad engaged in laborious collations of manuscripts at home, while he despatched one of the fellows of Trinity abroad for a similar purpose. In October, 1720, he published his proposals for printing this new edition. These were attacked with great virulence by Middleton, in a" pamphlet in which he accumulates every epithet and topic of reproach against Bentley. The master — who suspected that Middleton had been assisted by Dr Colbatch, a senior fellow of Trinity, and one of Bentley's most resolute opponents — replied in a strain of incredible scurrility ; heaping upon the object of his suspicion abuse of every kind. To this, Dr Mid dleton rejoined in a short piece of very powerful writing. In the course of the following four years we find Dr Bentley engaged in no fewer than six different lawsuits with his enemies, into the details of which we for bear to enter. It is worthy of remark, however, that in every one of these he was successful. On the 26th of March, 1724, he was restored to all his degrees and privileges, by virtue of a " peremptory manda mus" to that effect from the court of king's bench. The following year produced Dr Bentley's edition of Terence. This author had been recently edited by Dr Hare, who, though formerly a warm friend and admirer of Bentley, had been gradually alienated from him by a suc cession of petty misunderstandings and suspicions. To mortify Dr Hare, and to show his own superior knowledge of the Terentian metres, appear to have been the motives which prompted Bentley to this undertaking. The ' Bentleian Terence,' though not free from the peculiar and beset ting sins of his usual style of criticism, is a noble performance. Many of his emendations display a " curiosa felicitas'' almost unrivalled in the history of criticism; while his ' Schediasma' ofthe metres of Terence is a derfect miracle of genius. It is to be regretted that, with character istic bitterness, he persecutes Dr Hare through the entire series of his notes, which are one continued strain of cutting and contemptuous irony. The " superbas vices," however, were waiting for the great critic him self. With the melevolent intention of forestalling Hare's projected edition of ' Pheedrus,' Dr Bentley edited the Roman fabulist himself; with such haste and carelessness, however, as to lay himself open by a thousand incuria, to say nothing of the numerous unwarrantable altera tions of the text, for many of which he did not even attempt to assign any authority or reason. This crude performance, " praecipitatum magis quam editum," to borrow an expression from Erasmus, was re viewed by Dr Hare in his ' Epistola Critica,' the unmeasured acrimony Period.] DR RICHARD BENTLEY. 285 of which is in some degree extenuated by the provocation he had re ceived. On the death of Fleetwood, bishop of Ely, who had all along refused to interfere between Bentley and his college, the fellows of Trinity re solved to renew their complaints against the master. After long and vexatious litigation, in which enormous expenses were incurred, the ca use was finally referred to the decision of the house of lords. Mean- w hile, Dr Bentley had sent forth that immortal chef-d'oeuvre of absur- ili ty and arrogance, his edition of the ' Paradise Lost :' in which he has extirpated or altered many hundreds of lines, alleging, on the ground of their supposed inferiority, that they had been interpolated or corrupted by the person to whom Milton, by reason of his blindness, had commit ted the transcription of the poem. As it is impossible to suppose that Bentley himself believes this absurd hypothesis, we can only wonder by what judicial infatuation he should ever have been led to propound it seriously to his readers. To have excepted openly against the passages which he fancied he could improve, would have been infinitely more rational and manly than thinly veiling the audacity of his tasteless cri ticisms under so jejune and extravagant a fiction. , As a specimen of his offered emendations, the following may, perhaps, suffice. In place of the celebrated line, " No light, but rather darkness visible," he proposes to substitute this exquisite improvement : " No light but rather a TRANSPICUOUS GLOOM." We willingly acknowledge, however, that there are some acute re marks, and not infelicitous conjectures to be found in this extraordinary volume ; the occasional " flash and outbreak," of that " fiery spirit" which, in its native regions, always blazed out with an effulgence " oto$ OUTS tfay.Qxns ov& tiXioo TTiXocuy.s ecxriva/v ttlXaf toiovtov zfyXa/f^/M/.1' After a minute and protracted examination of the articles exhibited by the fellows of Trinity against the master, the lords commissioned Dr Greene, the bishop of Ely, to try Dr Bentley upon twenty out of the sixty-four. After a few more delays interposed by the untameable mas ter, the bishop finally sentenced him to be deprived of his mastership. Even this was insufficient to subdue the adamantine resolution of Bent ley. Having discovered that the sentence of the visitor could, accord ing to the letter of the statute, be put into execution by none but the vice-master, he introduced into that office his devoted follower, Walker, who was prepared to sacrifice every thing in the master's cause. This "fidus Achates," in spite of rescript, commination, mandamus, &c. &c. obstinately refused to stir a step against his patron. The death of Bishop Greene in 1738, put an end to all the proceedings against the master, and left him in undisputed possession of the victory. Immedi ately after the termination of this protracted struggle, Dr Bentley sued his old adversary, Colbatch, for arrears due to the former in his capacity of archdeacon of Ely, and gained his cause. During these unhappy and disgraceful altercations, Dr Bentley had been engaged with great ardour upon his proposed edition ofthe New Testament; 286 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth which, however, never saw the light. The Homeric poems seem to have occupied mnch of his attention, from the year 1726, to the close of his life. By the splendid discovery of the Digamma a letter which had been lost out of the Greek alphabet for more than two thou sand years — he had been guided to many inestimable emendations of the Homeric verses ; and in the true Bentleian spirit of enterprise, at the age of seventy, he pledged himself to Lord Carteret to prepare a new edition of the Iliad and the Odyssey. This pledge, however, he did not live to redeem. The great critic was ridiculed with unsparing ran cour by Pope and Arbnthnot, to whom, however, he seems to have given no provocation beyond a not uncharitable judgment upon the Homer of the bard of Twickenham. He did not, however, vouchsafe any thing in the shape of a reply. In 1739, Dr Bentley published his long promised ' Manillas :' a performance, the merits and blemishes of which closely resemble those of all his editions of the Roman poets. A short time before the death of Bentley, appeared the famous satire against him contained in the fourth book of the Dunciad ; of which, how ever, we can scarcely hesitate to say that the wit is less pungent than the malignity is odious. For the last few years of his life, Bentley is said to have been disabled by paralysis. In July, 1742, he was seized with a pleurisy, and expired on the 14th, having exceeded the age of fourscore by nearly seven months. It is unnecessary to enter upon any extended analysis of the intellec tual and moral character of Dr Bentley. He stands undoubtedly the very first among all the philological critics of every age and nation, " in shape and gesture proudly eminent." No single individual ever contributed so much to the actual stores of the learned world, or gave so strong an impulse to the study of the ancient classics. With little either of sensibility or imagination, he possessed an understanding which1 for compass, strength, and subtlety, has rarely been matched. He was by no means destitute of generosity ; but all his better qualities were strangled by an arrogant and haughty spirit, which frequently carried him to the most indecent excesses of temper and acts of violence. His theological creed appears to have embraced all the leading doctrines of t,he gospel. It is melancholy to add, that of that sanctification of the Spirit through the belief of the truth which lifts the soul above the world, forms it to the image of God, and fixes its regards on eternity, no traces are found in the records of his life and conversation. He left behind him a son, and two daughters, one of whom was the mother ofthe dramatist Cumberland. BORN A. D. 1651 DIED A.D. 1743. John Hough,1 an eminent and spirited prelate of the church of England, was born in London on the 12th of April, 1651, and received his education at the free school of Birmingham. He entered at Magdalene college, Oxford, on the 12th of November 1669, and ' Pronounced Huff. Period.] JOHN HOUGH. 287 was subsequently elected a fellow of the same foundation. He was or dained deacon in 1675; and, in 1678, became domestic chaplain to the duke of Ormond, whom he accompanied to Ireland, where the duke was then lord-lieutenant. Mr Hough lived four or five years in this noble family. In 1682 he returned to England, and was collated, in 1685, to a prebend-stall in the cathedral of Worcester, and soon after wards presented to the living of Tempsford in Bedfordshire. In March, 1687, the presidentship of Magdalen college became va cant, and notice was given conformably to the statutes of the college, that the fellows would proceed to the election of a new president on the 13th of the ensuing April. But before the appointed day arrived, a mandamus was sent to the fellows, through a Roman catholic, Robert Charnock, recommending them to elect one Anthony Farmer. The fellows addressed a humble representation to the king, in which they urged that Farmer had never been a fellow of the college, and had not any of the qualifications for the offiee which the statutes required. No answer was returned to their petition ; and having waited till the 15th of April — which was the farthest delay allowed by the statutes — they elected the Rev. John Hough to the vacant office, observing all the forms contained in the statutes. On the 17th of the same month the new president was solemnly installed in the chapel of his college. But on the 22d of June following, notwithstanding the intercession of the duke of Ormond, Mr Hough's election was declared void by King James's commissioners for ecclesiastical causes, — a body of men appointed by royal authority only. The court finding, however, that Mr Farmer, whom they bad before designed for the office, was a man of bad char acter, had not the effrontery to persist in their prior declaration in his favour ; but, on the 27th of August, issued a mandamus to the fellows to elect Dr Samuel Parker, bishop of Oxford, who was a papist. This the fellows refused to comply with. The king, being in Oxford in Sep tember, endeavoured to intimidate the refractory collegians, and, ad dressing them in no very courteous terms, threatened them with the utmost severity of his displeasure if they did not immediately choose the bisbop of Oxford for their president. But they still persisted in their disobedience, with a constancy which did honour to the whole body, and especially to their president Hough. William Penn, the quaker, amongst other persons, attended King James to Oxford on this occasion, and seems to have made an effort to soften the incensed sovereign, and obtain for the fellows that liberty of conscience which he so highly valued. On the 9th of October a deputation from the college, of whom Dr Hough was one, had a conference with Mr Penn at Windsor, and submitted for his perusal the several papers necessary to elucidate the case. " These," says Dr Hough, " he seemed to read very attentively, and after many objections, (to which he owned I gave him satisfactory an swers,) he promised faithfully to read every word to the king, unless peremptorily commanded to forbear." But whatever influence he might have had with the king, it was on this occasion, if exerted at all, exerted without effect, for Dr Hough and the fellows of Magdalen college were cited to appear on the 21st of November before certain lords commissioners appointed specially to visit the college. Dr Hough behaved with great temper and firmness in his examination. No solici tation, no menace, no hope nor fear, could induce him to violate his oath 238 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth and betray his trust. Notwithstanding the repeated demands of the commissioners, he refused to deliver up the keys of his lodgings to the person whom the king had selected for president ; and, finally, before they withdrew, he came again to court, and boldly appealed against all their proceedings as illegal, unjust, and null, exclaiming, " I appeal to my sovereign lord the king, in his courts of justice !" The commis. sioners proceeded to deprive the refractory fellows of their fellowships, and only two of them were found willing to make any submission to the king. To such a height did the spirit of resistance rise, that the very demies refused the vacant fellowships, and the university, in full convocation, refused degrees to three persons who were recommended by his majesty. This noble resistance on the part of Dr Hough and the fellows of Magdalen to the arbitrary mandates of James, had a powerful effect in modifying the slavish obedience which prevailed among the clergy of that day, and in kindling a general spirit of op position to the tyrannical measures of a bigot king ; and, consequently, in preparing the way for a better settlement of the government under King WiUiam. When the declaration of the prince of Orange reached England the following year, the court perceived it necessary to yield to the spirit of the times ; and on the 11th of October, 1688, the bishop of Winchester, as visitor of Magdalen college, received orders "to settle that society regularly and statuteably," and to strike out the names of all the popish intruders, both fellows and demies. : In April, 1690, soon after the Revolution, Dr Hough was rewarded for the firmness with which he had resisted the arbitrary measures of King James, by the bishopric of Oxford, which he was allowed to hold in conjunction with his presidentship of Magdalen,, which he did not resign till he was translated to the diocese of Lichfield and Coventry, in. 1689. In 1702 the bishop married the relict of Sir Charles Lee of Billesly, in the county of Warwick, and daughter of Thomas Fisher, Esq. of Walsh Hale near Meriden, in the same county. This lady died in November, 1722. The bishop appears to have regarded her with uncommon affeetion. " He kept the day of her decease with a religious veneration as long as he lived, and made it his rule to fast on that day ; so that his friends, in the latter years of his life, remonstra ted against this practice as injurious to his health." Bishop Hougb though he lived to complete his 92d year, and entered upon his 93 d, appears to have preserved his intellectual faculties entire to the last He expired at Worcester on the 8th of May, 1743, and was buried ir> the cathedral, where there is a very fine monument to his memory by Roubilliac. He does not appear ever to have devoted himself with anv degree of assiduity to literary pursuits ; he published, during his life time, eight sermons only, and left strict injunctions that nothing should be printed from his MSS. after his decease. In his charitable dona tions and bequests, he was exceedingly munificent.8 " Seward's Biographiana, vol. ii. Lifo by Wilmot. Period.] ISAAC WATTS. 289 SJoTjn aSalgug. BORN A. D. 1668. — DIED A. D. 1748. John Balguy was born at Sheffield, August 12th, 1686, and educated in the grammar-school in that town, of which his father was master. After his father's death he became a pupil ofthe Rev. Charles Daubrez, the author of a • Commentary on the Revelation,' who had succeeded to the school. In 1702 he was admitted of St John's col lege, Cambridge, where he took the degree of M. A., in 1726. In 1708 he was taken into the family of Mr Banks, and became tutor to Joseph Banks, Esq. of Raresby, Lincolnshire, grandfather of the cele brated voyager and philosopher. In 1711 he obtained a small church donative at Lamesly and Temfield in the county of Durham. In 1718 he engaged in what was called the Bangorian controversy, in which he defended Dr Hoadly against several assailants. In the three pam phlets which he wrote in this controversy, he assumed the name of Sil- vius. Dr Stebbing and Dr Sherlock were the persons against whom he wrote. In 1727 he was presented by Bishop Hoadly with a pre bend in Salisbury cathedral. Soon after, he preached an assize-ser mon at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, — the subject was party-spirit, and the judges ordered its publication. In 1729 he was preferred to the vicar age of North Allerton, Yorkshire. He died September 21st, 1748, at the age of 63. Besides his tracts in the Bangorian controversy, his chief publications were ' A Letter to a Deist ;' ' The Foundation of Moral Goodness,' in two parts ; ' Divine Rectitude,' a second letter to a deist; ' The Law of Truth ;' ' Essay on Redemption ;' ' Six Ser mons ;' — these, with fifteen others, were published in a posthumous volume. Mr Balguy was distinguished as an author by great perspi cuity, simplicity of style, and force of argument. He inclined to the ethical, rather than to the scriptural school of theology ; and, from the side which he took in the Bangorian controversy, it will be seen that he belonged to what was then called the liberal party. Throughout his writings he places the grounds of virtue and religion, rather in reason, than in the authority of revelation. The prevailing vice of the divines of his age, was the love of ethical, and what was termed rational theology : Balguy is, however, one of the ablest of this class of divines. 3£saac Wlatte, ©¦ 29. BORN A. D. 1674. DIED A. D. 1748. Isaac Watts was born at Southampton on the 17th of July, 1674. He was the eldest of nine children, and named after his father, a decided nonconformist, who had suffered not a little persecution for conscience sake at the hands, — not of " the nation," as Dr Southey, in a memoir prefixed to a recent edition of the ' Horas Lyricae, gently insinuates, — but of the high-church clergy. It is affirmed of young iv. 2 o 290 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth Watts that, almost before he could speak, his greatest delight was in turning over the leaves of books, and that his first pocket-money was devoted to the extension of his little library. So remarkable was his precocity, that while only in his fourth year he began to acquire the Latin language, and was entered as a pupil, of the Rev. John Pinhorne, at the free grammar-school of his native town. The rapid progress which the child made in all the various branches of school-learning, and the amiableness of disposition he ever displayed, drew upon him ' the attention of some of the wealthier classes of the town, who offered to enter him at one of the English universities, and support him while there ; but he could not be induced to abandon the principles in which he had been educated, and preferred to sacrifice his worldly interests to his convictions of truth and duty. In his sixteenth year, therefore, he was sent to an academy in London, over which the Rev. Thomas Rowe, at that time pastor . of the independent church meeting in Haberdashers' hall, presided. Rowe was a man of considerable learn ing and great worth. Among- the fellow-pupils of Watts were Hort, afterwards archbishop, of Tuam ; Say, whose poems and miscellaneous pieces were published after his death ; and Hughes, the author of 'The Siege of Damascus,' and other dramatic poems. Watts was at once the gentlest and the most studious of all Rowe's pupils. He indeed injured his health by the intensity of his application, and laid the foundation of deseases which were never afterwards eradicated from his constitution, while at this academy. About this period he filled a large volume with dissertations in Latin upon various philosophical and theological topics. He also frequently amused himself with poetical composition. On the completion of his academical studies, he ' returned, at the age of twenty, to his father's house, where he appears to have devoted other two years to further preparations for assuming the sacred office, after which he accepted the office of tutor to Sir John Hartopp's . son, and resided in family with Sir John, at Stoke-Newington, for -five years longer. One of his biographers says, " The long silence of this excellent and accomplished youth, as to the primary object of all his studies, the preaching of the gospel, affords considerable scope for con jecture. It is true he was but still a youth, diffident of himself, and deeply affected witb the importance of the ministry, under a sense ofhis insufficiency, and trembling lest he should go to the altar of God uncalled.' But after sixteen years spent in classical studies,— after un common proficiency in other parts of learning connected with the work of the ministry,— "with every qualification for the sacred office, — living at a time when his public services were peculiarly needed, and when he was known and spoken of as promising celebrity in whatever profes sion he might choose, — that with all these advantages he should con tinue in retirement, is a fact difficult to account for, and for which only his extreme diffidence can afford any apology." Mr Southey's re marks are here quite satisfactory : " When it is remembered," says he, " that Mr Watts left the academy in his twentieth year, or soon after its completion, the diffidence which withheld him from hurrying into the pulpit should rathej be held forth as an example, than represented as a weakness or a fault. Nor can there be any difficulty in account ing for it, even to those to whom such diffidence might appear ex- Period.] , ISAAC WATTS. 291 traordinary. He preached his first sermon on the very day whereon he completed his twenty-fourth year ; ' probably considering that as the day of a second nativity, by which he entered into a new period of existence ;' and in the meantime it is recorded of him, that he 'applied himself to the study of the scriptures, and to the reading of the best commentators, both critical and practical, preparatory to his undertak ing the pastoral office, to wliich he was determined to devote his life, and of the importance of which he had a deep sense upon his mind.' " In 1698, the year of his first appearance in the pulpit, Watts was chosen assistant to Dr Isaac Chauncey, pastor of the church assem bling in Mark-lane ; and in January, 1701-2, on the death of Mr Chauncey, he received a call to be his successor, with which he saw it to be his duty to comply. Scarcely, however, had he entered upon the discharge of his pastoral duties before he was seized with a danger ous illness, which impaired his constitution so much that it became necessary to obtain an assistant for him in the person of Mr Samuel Price. While recovering from the effects of this illness, Watts was in vited by Sir Thomas Abney, to his house at Theobalds, for change of air, and thither he went, intending to stay but a single week. Provi dence so ordered it, however, that he spent his whole remaining life under the hospitable roof of this family. " Here,'' says his biographer, Dr Gibbons, " he enjoyed the uninterrupted demonstrations of the truest friendship. Here, without any cares of his own, he had every thing which could contribute to the enjoyment of life, and favour the unwearied pursuits of his studies, Here he dwelt in a family which, for piety, order, harmony, and every virtue, was an house of God. Here he had the privilege of a country recess, the fragrant bower, the spreading lawn, the flowery garden, and other advantages to soothe his mind, and aid his restoration to health; to yield him, whenever he chose them, most grateful intervals from his laborious studies, and ena ble him to return to them with Tedoubled vigour and delight. Had it not been for this happy event, he might, as to outward view, have feebly, it may be painfully, dragged on through many more years of languor and inability for public service, and even for profitable study ; or per haps might have sunk into his grave, under the overwhelming load of infirmities, in the midst of his days : and thus the church and the world would have been deprived of those many excellent sermons and works which he drew up and published during his long residence in this family. In a few years after his coming hither, Sir Thomas Abney died ; but his amiable consort servives, who shows the doctor the same respect and friendship as before : and most happily for him, and great numbers besides, (for as her riches were great, her generosity and munificence were in full proportion,) her thread of life was drawn out to a great age, even beyond that of the doctor's. And thus this excel lent man,, through her kindness, and that of her daughter, Mrs Elizabeth Abney, who in a like degree esteemed and honoured him, enjoyed all the benefits and felicities he experienced at his first entrance into this family, till his days were numbered and finished, and, like a shock ot corn in its season, he ascended into the regions of perfect and immortal life and joy." Watts' situation in this family was exactly suited to his temper and circumstances. It relieved him from the ordinary cares 292 ECCLESIASTICAL SERIES. [Sixth of life, and all anxiety as to temporal matters, while the footing on which he stood with his friends at Theobalds was such, as left no place for any feeling of patronising superiority on the one side, or of depend- ance upon the other. Until the infirmities of old age overtook him, Watts continued to benefit the public by his ministrations in the pulpit, and still more by his labours in the study. In 1728 his services as an author were acknowledged by the universities of Edinburgh and Aberdeen, who conferred upon him the degree of D. D. in a very handsome manner. He died on the 25th of November, 1 748, in the 75th year of his age. • Dr Watts was a man of eminent, saint-like piety. In his literary character he falls to be regarded as a poet, a philosopher, and a theolo gian. "Few men," says Dr Johnson, speaking of Dr Watts, "have left such purity of character, or such monuments of laborious piety. He has provided instruction for all ages, — from those who are lisping their first lessons, to the enlightened readers of Malebranche and Locke ; he has left neither corporeal nor spiritual nature unexamined ; he has taught the art of reasoning, and the science of the stars. His character, therefore, must be formed from the multiplicity and diversity of his attainments, rather than from any single performance ; for, though it would not be safe to claim for him the highest rank in any single deno mination of literary dignity ; yet, perhaps, there was nothing in which he would not have excelled, if he had not divided his powers to different pursuits." Watts' ' Psalms and Hymns' are well-known, and need not be here made the subject of criticism. Few, we suppose, would rank them among the finest efforts of poetry, yet their's is a merit above all human eulogy in the fact that they have now supplied for above a century, and still supply, the devotional exercises of many thousand dis senting congregations throughout England and America. His 'Hymns and Songs for Children' are still the most popular manual in use for storing the infantile mind with scriptural truths, in that form which most easily recommends itself to their attention and impresses itself upon their memory. As a metaphysician he is entitled, if not to the praise of originality and profundity, at least to that of great clearness and precision. His ' Logic' is still used as a text-book in the English universities ; and his work, ' On the Improvement of the Mind,' has received the highest eulogy from a no less competent judge than Dr Samuel Johnson. " In the pulpit," says Dr Johnson, " though his low stature, which very little exceeded five feet, graced him with no advan tages of appearance, yet the gravity and propriety of his utterance made his discourses very efficacious. Such was his flow of thoughts, and such his promptitude of language, that, in the latter part of his life, he did not pre-compose his cursory sermons, but, having adjusted the heads, and sketched out some particulars, trusted for success to his extemporary powers." If his practice came at all up to his precepts on pulpit-style and oratory, he must have been a most fascinating preacher. "Suppose two preachers," he says, "were desired to minister to the same auditory, on a day of fasting or praise, and on the same subject too. One of them has all the beauty, force, and skill of clear and calm reasoning ; the other not only instructs well, but powerfully moves the affections with sacred oratory. Which of these two will best secure the attention of the people, and guard them from drowsiness or wan Period.] CHARLES COTTON. 293 dering ? Surely, he that touches the heart, will fix the eyes and the ears and all the powers ; while he that merely endeavours to inform the head, will find many wandering eyes, and some sleepers." In another sermon upon the same subject, ' The Use of the Passions in Religion,' he exclaims, " Does divine love send dreaming preachers to call dead sinners to life, — preachers that are content to leave their hearers asleep on the precipice of eternal destruction ? Have they no such thing as passion belonging to them ? Have they no piety ? Have they no fear ? Have they no sense of the worth of souls ? Have they no springs of affection within them ? — Or do they think their hearers have none ? — Or is passion so vile a power that it must be all devoted to things of flesh and sense, and must never be applied to things divine and heavenly ? Who taught any of us this lazy and drowsy practice ? Does God or his prophets, or Christ or his apostles, instruct us in this modish art of still life, this ' lethargy of preaching ?' Did the great God ever appoint statues for his ambassadors, to invite sinners to his mercy ? Words of grace written upon brass or marble, would do the work almost as well 1 — How cold and dull and unaffected with divine things is mankind by nature ! How careless and indolent is a whole assembly, when the preacher appears like a lifeless engine, pronounc ing words of law or grace, when he speaks of divine things in such a dry, in such a cold and formal manner, as though they had no influence on his own heart ! When the words freeze upon his lips, the hearts of hearers are freezing also." III.— LITERARY SERIES. CtjarUs Cotton. BORN A.D. 1630. — DIED A.D. 1687. Charles Cotton, the well-known author of ' Virgil Travestie,' was born in 1630. He was the son of Charles Cotton of Beresford in Staffordshire, of whom Clarendon speaks in terms of high commenda tion, declaring that " no man in the court, or out of it, appeared a more accomplished person." The subject of the present memoir was educat ed at Cambridge ; and Granger says that " he was esteemed one of the ornaments of that university." He appears to have directed his atten tion, while at Cambridge, chiefly to the classics ; but he also cultivated the literature of France and Italy with considerable assiduity, and subse quently perfected his knowledge of the leading continental languages by foreign travel. His first publication was a translation of the president De Vaix's account of the Stoic philosophy, which he is said to have undertaken at the request of his father. In 1671, he published a version of Cor- neille's tragedy founded on the story of the Horatii and Curiatii. This 294 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth translation had been executed some years before, for the amusement of his sister. His ' History of the Life of the Duke D'Espernon,' had appeared the preceding year. Between the date of the appearance of the latter work and his celebrated mock-heroic, Cotton seems to have spent some time in Ireland. The latter performance first appeared in 1678, under the title of ' Scarronides, or Virgil Travestie, a mock poem on the first and fourth books of Virgil's JEneis in English burlesque.' This effort of his comic muse was, as the title intimates, an imitation of Scarron's version ofthe Mantuan bard, and it is certainly entitled to as much praise as is due to its French model, or to any other parody. It is highly humorous, but its wit too frequently degenerates into sheer licentiousness. The same may be said of his ' Burlesque upon Bur- lesque,' or travestied version of Lucian's dialogues ; only;the reader who is acquainted with the original work feels less regret at the trans formation wrought upon it by the miming translator. Next to the ' Virgil Travestie,' Cotton's best work is his translation of Montaigne's Essays, in which he has fully entered into the style and spirit of the original. After his death, in 1689, a supplementary volume of his poem was published in one volume, octavo. There is also a duodecimo volume, which has been several times reprinted, entitled ' The Genuine Poetical Works of Charles Cotton, Esq.' which, however, contains only his three principal pieces, namely, his travesties of Virgil and of Lu cian, and a poem entitled 'The Wonders ofthe Peak.' Cotton was a man of considerable genius ; but he appears to have wasted his talents upon efforts unworthy of them. ^tr mmiam $*ttg. BORN A. D. 1623. DIED A. D. 1687. This ingenious gentleman was the eldest son of Anthony Petty, a clothier at Rumsey, in Hampshire, where he was born in 1623. Almost from his infancy he discovered a genius for the mechanic arts. According to his own account, he made rapid progress in polite litera ture, having attained a competent knowledge of the Greek, Latin, and French languages, by the time he was fifteen years of age. Thus ac complished, he went in search of further improvement to the university of Caen, in Normandy. Upon his return to England, he obtained a situation in the navy-office ; and having saved about threescore pounds, he deemed this small sum a sufficient fund to defray the expenses of tra velling to foreign parts. With this pittance, therefore, he embarked for the Netherlands, about the year 1643, taking with him his younger brother Anthony, whose education he likewise undertook. At this time he had resolved to study physic ; and with this design he successively visited Leyden, Utrecht, Amsterdam, and Paris. The latter univer sity being then in great repute, he spent a considerable time at it, and applied himself diligently to the study of anatomy, reading the works of Vesalius, the famous Flemish anatomist, in company with the cele brated Hobbes, who took great pleasure in associating with the youth and forwarding his pregnant genius. It may be easily conceived, that sixty pounds could do little more than set him out in his journey, and Period.] SIR WILLIAM PETTY. 295 defray the most ordinary expense of travelling ; it has therefore been surmised that he carried on some advantageous branch of traffic with his own country during the three years he resided on the continent, by which he was enabled to support himself genteelly, and to return to England in 1646, bringing home with him ten pounds more than he carried out. In the year 1647, he obtained a patent for an instrument resembling the modern pantograph, whereby two copies of the same thing might be written at once. Some time after this he fixed his abode at Oxford, where he practised chemistry and physic with great success, and assist ed Dr Clayton, the professor of anatomy, in his dissections. In 1649, a parliamentary recommendation was sent to Brazen-nose college, to elect him to a fellowship made void by ejectment, which was complied with; and, at the same time, the university conferred upon him an honorary degree of doctor of physic. In 1650, he was admitted to the college of physicians in London. In the beginning of the year 1651, Dr Petty was elected anatomy-professor upon the resignation of Dr Clayton ; he likewise succeeded Dr Knight in the professorship of music in Gresham college. The following year he was appointed phy sician to the army in Ireland ; he was likewise physician to three suc cessive lord-lieutenants, Lambert, Fleetwood, and Henry Cromwell. His fertile genius, however, could not be confined to the science of medicine alone. Being an excellent mathematician, he observed that, after the rebellion in Ireland of 1641, the forfeited lands, which had been allotted to the soldiers for suppressing it, were very defectively measured, and made such representations upon the subject to Oliver Cromwell, that he granted him a contract in 1654, to make new ad measurements, which he executed with great accuracy. By this con tract he gained upwards of ten thousand pounds. And it appears, by authentic records, that in 1655 he had surveyed 2,800,000 acres of forfeited improveable land, part of which he had divided amongst the disbanded soldiers. Henry Cromwell being appointed lord-lieutenant of Ireland in the course of that year, he chose Dr Petty to be his secre tary ; and, in 1657, made him clerk of the council, and procured him a seat in the English parliament, in which he served for the borough of Westlow in Cornwall. He met with a severe mortification, however, in being impeached in March, 1658, by Sir Hierom Sankey, for high- crimes and misdemeanors in the execution of his office of surveying, and distributing the Irish lands. The matter came not to a final issue, the parliament being suddenly dissolved by Richard Cromwell. But Sir Hierom Sankey commenced a more vigorous prosecution against him in Ireland, upon his return thither soon after the dissolution of the parliament; and though he published a justification of himself, yet neither this performance, nOr a letter written in his favour by Henry Cromwell, to his brother the protector, could prevent his being dis missed frqm all public employment as soon as Richard Cromwell had resigned, and the remnant of the long parliament had re-assumed the reins of government. On the Restoration, Dr Petty came to England,, and was very graci ously received by his majesty ; soon after, he resigned his professorship of Gresham college, the king having appointed him to be one ofthe com missioners ofthe court of claims, established in Ireland in 1662, to set 296 LITERARY SERIES. [Son tie the claims relating to forfeited estates in that kingdom. His majesty likewise conferred on him the honour of knighthood, granted him a new patent constituting him surveyor-general of Ireland, and, in his instruc tions to the court of claims, ordered that all the forfeited lands whicli had been assigned to him, and of which he had been possessed in May 1659, before his dismission from his former employments, should be confirmed to him for ever. Sir William Petty's estate amounted now, according to his own account, to six thousand pounds per annum. Upon the institution of the Royal society of London, in 1662, Sir William Petty was elected one of the council ; and though he no longer practised as a physician, his name was inserted in the list of the fellows, upon the renewal of the charter of the college of physicians, in 1663; Sir William about this time invented a double-bottomed ship, to sail against wind and tide, which performed one successful voyage very ex peditiously, from Dublin to Horyhead, in July, 1664. He gave a model of this vessel to the Royal society, which is still preserved in their repository ; he likewise communicated to that learned body, in 1665, a discourse on ship-building. Sir William employed great part of his time for many years in attempts to improve upon his ship ; and after having made upwards of twenty models at great expense, he at length had a vessel completed according to his own instructions, which was publicly, tried in the harbour of Dublin, in December, 1684. Sir William had asserted, " that he would construct passage-boats between Dublin and Chester, which should be a kind of stage-boats ; for they should be as regular in going out and returning on set days, in all weathers, as the stage-coaches between London and any country town :" but this experiment completely failed. Yet the vexation occa sioned by the disappointment did not deter Sir William from continu ing his studies for the improvement of shipping during the remainder of his life, and though he made no more public experiments, he wrote several ingenious essays on the subject. In the year 1666, Sir William published a book entitled ' Verbum Sapienti, containing an account of the Wealth and Expenses of Eng land, and the method of raising Taxes in the most equal Manners shewing likewise, that England can bear the charge of Four Million: annually, when the occasions of the Government require it.' Though this was the first tract on the public revenues published by our author, yet it appears that his famous treatise on political arithmetic — of which further mention will be made in the account of his posthumous works was presented by him to Charles II. in manuscript, upon his restora tion. He had likewise published a small piece on a more limited plaw in 1662, entitled 'A Treatise on Taxes and Contributions: shewing the Nature and Measures of Crown Lands, Assessments, Customs, Poll-money, Lotteries, Benevolence, &c.' but his ' Verbum Sapienti' was a better display of his abilities as a political calculator, and was well-received from its novelty, there being at that time scarcely any thing extant upon the finances or the property and resources ofthe kingdom. In 1667, he married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Hardresse Walbe, and relict of Sir Maurice Fenton, baronet ; and from this time he en gaged in various pursuits, — he opened lead-mines, and began a trade in timber ; he likewise set up iron-works, and established a pilchard fishery, Period.] THOMAS SHADWELL. 297 all in Ireland, by which he greatly benefited that country and enriched himself. Though he now resided chiefly in England, yet he made fre quent visits to Ireland, and promoted the establishment of a philosophical society at Dublin — in imitation of the Royal society of London — of which he was president in 1684. In 1685, he made his will, which is as remarkable as any other transaction of his life ; amongst other things he takes notice, that from thenceforward, " he should confine his studies to the anatomy of the people, to political arithmetic, and to the improvement of ships, land-carriages, and pumps, as of most use to mankind, not blaming the study of other men." But death put a period to his useful labours in the year 1687, when he was carried off by a gangrene in his foot, occasioned by the gout. Sir William Petty was the first able financier of this country, who reduced the art of rais ing and applying the public revenues of the kingdom to a scientific system. • His ' Political Arithmetic' is a master-piece of its kind, con sidering the time at which it appeared, and long served as a grammar to the students of political economy. It was published in London, by his son, in 1690, in 8vo., and has been frequently reprinted. Sir William Petty's eldest son was created Baron Shelburne, in the county of Waterford, by William III., but dying without issue, he was succeed ed in that honour by his younger brother, Henry, who was created Viscount Dunkeron, in the county of Kerry, and earl of Shelburne, in 1718. From this nobleman is descended the present marquess of Lans downe. Sir William Petty's. history affords a remarkable instance of the establishment of a noble family, from the united efforts of ingen uity and industry in one man, who, from so small a beginning as six ty pounds, and after being reduced to such penury in France, as to be obliged " to live for a week on two or three penny worth of walnuts," hewed out a fortune to himself, and left his family at his death, £6,500 per annum in land, above £45,000 in personal effects, and a plan of demonstrable improvement on his estate, to produce £4000 per annum more. Stomas £?3jaDiutlI. BORN A. D. 1640. DIED A. D. 1692. This dramatic poet was descended of a good family of Staffordshire, but was born at Staunton-hall in Norfolk, a seat ofhis father's. He was educated at Caius college, Cambridge, and afterwards entered the Middle Temple. The study of the law, however, had no charms for him. He went abroad, and amused himself for a time with travelling. On his return he applied himself to writing for the stage, and with so much vigour, that in a short time he had produced no fewer than seventeen pieces, on the strength of which he succeeded Dryden in the laureate- ship at the Revolution. Dryden resented the affront thus put upon him through Shadwell by introducing him into his ' Mac Flecknoe' in these lines : — " Others to some faint meaning make pretence, But Shadwell never deviates into sense." IV. 2p 298 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth This is severe enough ; but Rochester has affirmed that " if Shadwell had burnt all he wrote, and printed all he spoke, he would have had more wit and humour than any other poet." Shadwell was a great fa vourite too with Otway. The plays of this dramatist are sufficiently imbued with the wretched taste and morals of Charles's profligate court. There is a thorough profligacy in his comedies, yet he is said to have been an amiable pri vate character : nay, he actually takes no small credit to himself for the morality of his writings I With equal complacency, and with equal reason, he looked upon himself as the restorer and improver of Moliere and of Shakspeare himself I He says, in the preface to his ' Psyche,' " I will be bold to affirm, that this is as much a play as could be made upon this subject," whereas nothing more utterly contemptible was ever conceived than his treatment of that most beautiful fiction of antiquity. Altering a play from Moliere, he says, that he is bold to assert, " with out vanity, that Moliere's part has not suffered in his hands," whereas he has mangled the witty Frenchman wherever he has touched him. But it is in his improvements of Shakspeare that the consummate va nity and besotted tastelessness of the man shine forth most conspicu ously. " Shakspeare," he says, " never made more masterly strokes than in ' Timon of Athens;' yet," he adds, " I can truly say I have made it into a play." This he has done by introducing two female charac ters, — the one a mistress, whom Timon is about to cast off in order to take a wife, — the other his intended bride ; the latter jilts him in his misfortunes, — the former follows him in private at his death, and kills herself for grief. The following is Mr Shadwell's improved version 01 the concluding speech of Alcibiades : — " Poor Timon ! I once knew thee the most flourishing man Of all th' Athenians ; and thou still hadst been so, Had not these smiling flattering knaves devoured thee, And murdered thee with base ingratitude 1 His death pull'd on the poor Evandra's too,— That miracle of constancy and love 1 Now all repair to their respective homes, Their several trades, their business and diversions ; And whilst I guard you from your active foes, And light your battles, be you secure at home. May Athens flourish with a lasting peace, And may its wealth and power e'er increase !" Shadwell is not to be too severely thought of for these absurdities. He lived in an age when men of infinitely higher genius, and who ought to have known better what they were about, and felt more keenly the atrocities they were perpetrating, were guilty of equal, and, in some in stances, still more daring profanation. Davenant and Dryden, be it remembered, improved Shakspeare's ' Tempest;' and Dryden extended the benefit ofhis powers to the ' Paradise Lost,' which he kindly turned into rhyme for its future credit with the world ! Period.] JOHN EACHARD. 299 l&mtg tyutctll BORN A.D. 1658. — DIED A.D. 1695. This eminent musician was the pupil of Dr Blow, but his earliest published compositions were formed, according to his own account, after the style of the Italian masters. They consist of twelve sonatas for two violins and a bass, and resemble those of Bassani in their structure. " The unlimited powers of Purcell's genius," says Dr Burney, " em braced every species of musical composition known in his time, and with equal felicity. In writing for the church, whether he adhered to the elaborate style of his predecessors, in which no instrument is employed but the organ, and the several parts are constantly moving in fugue and counterpoint, — or, giving way to feeling and imagination, adopted the new and more expressive style of which he was himself one of the prin cipal inventors, accompanying the voice-parts with instruments to en rich the harmony, — he manifested equal abilities and resources. In compositions for the theatre, though the colouring and effects of an or chestra were then but little known, yet he employed them more than any of his predecessors had done, and gave to the voice a melody more interesting and impassioned than had yet been heard out of Italy." Many of our popular songs are the composition of Purcell. Among these may be mentioned ' Mad Tom,' the first part of which was the work of this composer, and the second, added at a much later period, of Hayden. Another splendid piece of composition is entitled, ' The Croaking of the Toad ;' it is a song in three strains, containing some most exquisite passages, such as would do honour to any composer. Much of his most excellent church music still remains in manuscript in our cathedrals, and it is to be feared that some of it was irrecoverably lost in the late burning of York-minster. Purcell died at the early age of 37 ; having been born in 1658, and dying of consumption in 1695. Had he lived longer he would probably have exercised a deeper influence over our music, and laid the founda tion of something like a national school in his art. Soiw <£at|jarlj. BORN A. D. 1636. — DIED A. D. 1697. John Eachard, master of Catharine-hall, Cambridge, and author of several highly erudite and ingenious works, was born about the year 1636. He was educated at Cambridge, where he took the degree of M. A. jn 1660. In 1670, he appeared, for the first time, as an author in a piece en titled, ' The Grounds and Occasions of the Contempt of the Clergy and Religion inquired into.' Eachard was a thorough churchman, but he plainly affirms that " the ignorance of some, and the poverty of others, of the clergy" are daily bringing the church into contempt, and endangering its very existence, as well as impeding its usefulness. He 300 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth points out several errors, as he regards them, in the system of educa tion which the candidates for holy orders pass through, and in particu lar, objects to the undue proportion of time and attention required to be bestowed on what is called classical literature. " You shall have lads," says he, " that are arch knaves at the nominative case, and that have a notable quick eye at spying out the verb, who, for want of reading common and familiar books, shall understand no more of what is plain and easy, than a well-educated dog or horse. Or suppose they were taught — as they might much easier be than what is common ly offered to them — the principles of arithmetic, geometry, and such alluring parts of learning, as these things undoubtedly would be much more useful, so much more delightful to them, than to be tormented with a tedious story, how Phaeton broke his neck, or how many nuts and apples Tityrus had for his supper." In this lively manner Eachard exposes the absurdity of making a purely classical educa tion, as it is called, the object ofthe student's exclusive attention, and of supposing that a knowledge of two dead languages is sufficient to equip a man for the due discharge of the practical and active duties of life. Eachard's book made a considerable noise at the time of its appear ance, and called forth.a number of answerers, " whose memory," says Swift, " if he had not kept alive by replies, it would now be utterly unknown that he was ever answered at all." In 1671, Eachard published a work entitled ' Mr Hobbes' State of Nature considered,' in which the philosopher is handled with a mixture of rudeness and pleasantry which singularly contrasts with his own " starched mathematical method.'* In 1675, Eachard succeeded Dr John Lightfoot in the mastership of Catharine-hall, and in the year following was created D. D. by royal mandate. He died in July, 1697. His collected works were published by Davies, in 1774, in three volumes, 12mo. $o?m Wallis. BORN A.D. 1616.— DIED A.D. 1703. Dr Wallis, Savillian professor of Geometry in the university of Oxford, was the son of the Rev. John Wallis, rector of Ashford in Kent. In 1632 he was sent to Emanuel college, Cambridge, after having gone through the ordinary routine of school discipline at Tenterden, in • his native county, and afterwards at Felsted, in Essex. His tutor at Cambridge was Anthony Burgess. In 1637, he proceeded B. A. ; and in 1640, he took the degree of M. A. Having taken orders, he lived about a year as chaplain in the house of Sir Richard Darby ; but we find him soon afterwards holding a fel lowship of Queen's college, Cambridge, which he must have renounced on his marriage in 1644. He was appointed one of the secretaries to the Westminster assembly ; and at this period he supplied a church in Ironmonger-lane, London. Shortly after the breaking out of the civil war, Wallis obtained a high reputation for his skill in interpreting secret cyphers. " About the beginning," says he, " of our civil wars, a chap- Iain of Sir William Waller showed me, as a curiosity, an intercepted Period.] JOHN WALLIS. 301 letter written in cypher, (and it was indeed the first thing I had ever seen of the kind ;) and asked me, between jest and earnest, if I could make any thing of it ? and was surprised, when I told him, perhaps I might. It was about ten o'clock when we rose from supper; and I withdrew to my chamber to consider of it. By the number of different characters in it, I judged it could be no more than a new alphabet ; and before I went to bed I found it out ;_ which was my first attempt upon decyphering : and I was soon pressed to attempt one of a different character, consisting of numerical figures, extending to four or five hundred numbers, with other characters intermixed, which was a letter from secretary Windebank, (then in France,) to his son in England j and was a cypher hard enough, not unbecoming a secretary of state. And when, upon importunity, I had taken a great deal of pains with it without success, I threw it by ; but after some time I resumed it again, and had the good hap to master it. Being encouraged by this success beyond expectation, I have ventured upon many others, and seldom failed of any that I have attempted for many years ; though of late the French methods of cyphers are grown so extremely intricate, that I have been obliged to quit many of them, without having patience to go through with them." Wallis's fame as a decypherer promised him ample employment from the government, even after the Revolution ; but he laboured for thankless and forgetful masters. In a letter to the earl of Nottingham, who was at that time secretary to William III. dated August 4th, 1689, he says : " From the time your lordship's servant brought me the letter yesterday morning, I spent the whole day upon it, (scarce giving myself time to eat,) and most part of the night ; and was at it again early this morning, that I might not make your messenger wait too long.'' In another : " I wrote to his lordship the next day, on account of the difficulty I at first apprehended, the papers being written in a hard cypher, and in a language of which I am not thoroughly master ; but sitting close to it in good earnest, I have (notwithstanding that disadvantage) met with better success, and with more speed, than I expected. I have therefore returned to his lordship the papers which were sent me, with an intelligible account of what was there in cypher." Being hard pressed by the earl of Nottingham, to decipher some documents, he thus writes at the conclusion of one of his letters : " But, my lord, it is hard service, and I am quite weary. If your honour were sensible how much pains and study it cost me, you would pity me ; and there is a proverb of not riding a free horse too hard." The doctor's hint was thrown away for this time : he was a little more plain in his next, wherein he says, " However I am neglect ed, I am not willing to neglect their majesties' service ; and have there fore re-assumed the letters which I had laid by, and which I here send decyphered : perhaps it may be thought worth little, after I have be stowed a great deal of pains upon them, and be valued accordingly ; but itjs not the first time that the like pains have been taken to as little purpose, by my lord," &c. — In another appears the following postscript, dated August 15, 1691 : " But, my lord, I do a little wonder to receive so many fresh letters from your lordship without taking any notice of what I wrote in my last, which I thought would have been too plain to need a decypherer ; certainly your other clerks are better paid, or else they would not serve you." King William, however, became at last 302 LITERARY SERIES. [BlXTH so sensible ofhis services as to grant him a pension of f 100 per annum, with survivorship to his grandson whom he had instructed in the art of decyphering. About the year 1653, Wallis published his ' Tractus de Loquela Grammatica-physicus ;' wherein he gives a particular account of the physical or mechanical formation of sounds used in speech. In the year 1699, he published at Oxford three large folios upon mathematics, with the title, ' Mathesis Universalis.' Part of the third volume of his ' Opera Mathematical is employed in preserving and restoring divers ancient Greek authors, which were in danger of being lost. In the year 1642, he published a book, entitled ' Truth Tried,' in answer to a treatise written by Lord Brook, entitled ' The Nature of Truth.' In the year 1653, he published, in Latin, his 'Grammar of the English Tongue, for the use of foreigners.' In his ' Praxis Grammatical he gives us the following jeu-d' esprit : " A certain learned French gentle man," he says, " proposed to me the underwritten four chosen French verses, composed on purpose ; boasting from it wonderfully of the felicity of his French language, which expressed kindred senses by kindred words ; complaining, in the mean while, of our English one, as very often expressing kindred senses by words conjoined by no rela tion : Quand un cordier, cordant, veult corder une corde ; Pour sa corde corder, trois cordons il accorde : Mais, si un des cordons de la corde descorde, Le cordon discordant fait descorder la corde. But, that I might show that this felicity of language was not wanting to our own, immediately, without making choice of fresh matter, I trans lated verbally the same four verses into the English tongue, retaining the same turn of words which he had observed in his, only substituting the word twist, purely English, for the exotic word cord, which he ex pected me to use : When a twister, a-twisting, will twist him a twist, For the twisting his twist, he three twines doth entwist ; But, if one of the twines of the twist does untwist, The twine that untwisteth, untwisteth the twist. And to them these four others : Untwirling the twine that untwisted between, He twirls with his twister the two in a twine : Then, twice having twisted the twines of the twine, He twisteth the twine he had twined io twain. And these : The twain that, in twining before in the twine, As twins were entwisted, he now doth untwine : 'Twixt the twain intertwisting a twine more between, He, twirling his twister, makes a twist of the twine." In the year 1658, came out his * Commercium Epistolicum,' being an epistolary correspondence between Brouncker and Dr Wallis, on one part, and Messrs Fermate and Frenicle, (two French gentlemen,) on the other ; occasioned by a challenge given by Mr Fermate, to the English, Dutch, and French mathematicians. In reference to this Period.] John wallis. 303 work Sir Kenelm Digby thus writes to the doctor from Paris : " I beseech you to accept of the profession I here make you, with all truth •and sincerity ; which is, that I honour most highly your great parts and worth, and the noble productions of your large and knowing mind, which maketh you the honour of our nation, and envy of all others ; certainly you have had the satisfaction to have had the two greatest men in France, (Messrs Fermate and Frenicle,) to cope with ; and I doubt not but your letter will make them, and all the world, give as large and as full a deference to you. This excellent production of your single brain hath convinced our mathematicians here, that, like Samson, you can easily break and sn?p asunder all the Philistines' cords and snares, when the assault cometh warmly upon you." Mr Frenicle writes thus to Sir Kenelm Digby : — " I have read over the last letter of the great Dr Wallis, from which it appears plain to me, how much he excels in mathematical knowledge. I had given my opinion of him dreaming, but now I willingly give my judgment of him waking. Before, I saw Hercules, but it was playing with children ; now I behold him destroy ing monsters at last, going forth in gigantic strength. Now must Hol land yield to England, and Paris to Oxford." Thus ended this learn ed dispute ; during which many other ingenious problems were started, and solved, equally to the honour of the doctor. In 1655, Mr Thomas Hobbes published ' Six Lessons to the Profes sors of Mathematics in Oxford.' Upon this the doctor wrote an answer, entitled, * Due Correction for Mr Hobbes, or School Discipline for not saying his Lesson right.' In 1661, he was appointed one ofthe divines who were empowered to review the book of Common prayer. Upon the Restoration he met with great respect ; and was not only admitted one of the king's chaplains in ordinary, but likewise confirmed in his two places of Savilian professor, and keeper of the archives, at Oxford. It does not however appear that Dr Wallis held any considerable church-preferment, or that he was desirous of it ; for, writing to a friend upon that subject, he says, " I have not been fond of being a great man ; studying more to be serviceable, than to be great ; and therefore have not sought after it." However, in the year 1692, the queen made him the proffer of the deanery of Hereford, which, being not quite agreeable to his mind, he declined ; probably not thinking it worth his accepting ; for, he observes to a friend upon this occasion, that " It was a proverb, when I was a boy, Better sit still, than rise to fall. If I have deserved no better, I shall doubt whether I have deserved this ; it being but equivalent to what I have, and with which 1 am contented ; I am an old man, and am not like to enjoy any place long." The doctor lived to a good old age, being upwards of eighty-seven when he died. He was interred in the choir of St Mary's church, Oxford, where a handsome monument is erected to his memory. 304 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth BORN A. D. 1631. — DIED A. D. 1700. John Dryden was born at the parsonage house of Aldwinkle, All Saints, in the county of Northampton, on or near the 9th of August, 1631. His family originally came from Cumberland, in which county, and in the adjoining districts, the name is frequently to be met with at the present day. His great-grandfather, we are told by Anthony Wood, was honoured with the friendship of Erasmus, and conferred the name of that illustrious scholar on his son, Erasmus Driden, (so the name was then spelt,) who was afterwards created a knight-baronet by James I. Of the poet's father, Erasmus Driden, the third son of this Sir Erasmus, little more is known than that he was a man of great probity, and acted as a justice-of-the-peace during the reign of Cromwell. It is worthy of note, that the religious creed of Dryden's family was puri tanic. Even in the reign of Elizabeth, one of his ancestors had been noted for his puritanic notions, and from him they had descended una dulterated to the poet's father, while his mother was daughter to that zealous puritan, Sir Gilbert Pickering, whose name will be remembered by readers of history in conjunction with the gunpowder plot. We have thus to add another eminent name to the long catalogue of illus trious men, including Cudworth, Milton, Bolingbroke, and Locke, who received their education among the despised fanatics whose enmity to literature has formed so copious a theme for declamation with the bigots and sciolists of another party. John Dryden was the oldest of a large family. He received the rudiments of his education at Tich- marsh, near his father's residence, whence he was subsequently admit ted a king's scholar at Westminster, then governed by the celebrated Dr Busby. The skill with which he executed the poetical translations prescribed at Westminster, gave some promise of future excellence, but on the whole it can scarcely be said that his youth afforded any strong indications of future greatness. Having obtained a Westminster scho larship, he removed to Trinity-college, Cambridge, in 1 650. His tutor was the Rev. John Templer, an author of some learning and ability, though now forgotten. At college he earned little or no distinction, and although he took the degree of B. A., he neither proceeded M. A. nor obtained a fellowship. Whether he was a frequent votary of the muse during his academic career cannot now be known. Very little of what he wrote while at college has descended to our times, and that little is too outrageous an imitation of the metaphysical poetry then in vogue, to make us regret its scantiness. He left the university in 1657, and went up to London, where he be came secretary to his cousin, Sir Gilbert Pickering. His father was already dead, and had left him in possession of an estate which yielded him £60 a year, but small as this income was, his prospects in life were excellent. His kinsman and patron, Pickering, had been one of the judges of King Charles, and was at that time a member of Cromwell's privy council and lord-chamberlain of the protector's household. His uncle, Sir John Dryden, was also a zealous puritan, and in good odour Period.] John dryden. 305 at Whitehall. In such circumstances it would have been easier to pre dict Dryden's rapid progress through the gradations of office, and his gradual rise to importance as a strenuous commonwealth's man and a zealous supporter of the covenant, than to foresee his becoming, under a different dynasty, the poet of princes and the prince of poets — the most subtle apologist of arbitrary power, and the most profligate wit of a licentious age. His first appearance as an author was in an elegy on the death of Oliver Cromwell, a production long afterwards remember ed to his extreme mortification, though in point of sentiment and style- \ it afforded a promise of regeneration from the false taste which had hitherto governed him, and was inferior to none of the publications in which that memorable event was lamented, save Waller's well known i lines. The restoration overturned all his political prospects, but it was probably hailed by him with sincere joy as affording a release from the trammels of a party whose rigid morality must have been galling to one of his temperament. Be that as it may, he produced a gratulatory ode on the occasion, under the title of ' Astoea Redux,' and the coronation which followed again called forth the tribute of his incense. The best"-) excuse that can be given for Dryden's sudden change of principle is, that he now found himself compelled to live by his wits, and such ad venturers, like pirates, deem every thing fair game. He has not been . the last instance of a poet starting in life as a rank republican, and end- J ing by becoming the laurelled panegyrist of tyranny. His circum stances at this time must have been narrow, but his talents were rapidly introducing him to the notice of the court, and his election as a mem ber of the Royal Society soon after its formation, is a proof of the repu tation he had already acquired. Not to break the chain of our narra- ! tive, we may here mention, that the ' Victory over the Dutch,' and the ' Annus Mirabilis,' together with one or two short pieces, were the only purely poetical productions of Dryden's muse for a considerable time after the restoration. The ' Annus Mirabilis,' published in 1667, was the longest poem he had written, and in many respects the best, though exhibiting some of that fondness for metaphysical turns of thought and expression which characterised his earlier effusions. It is in the elegiac stanza, which his admiration of Davenant's Gondibert had made a fa vourite with him ; and though sometimes ludicrous from the marriage of lofty epithets and extravagant similes to technical phraseology and ordi nary events, it displays a command of language, and a magnificent profu- , sion of illustration not altogether unworthy of its author's future fame. J Mere poetry, however excellent, was little better than a drag at this period. The drama was the only species of literature to which a fos tering hand was given. We had indeed already in our language dra matic compositions to which the best writers of Greece and Rome had produced 90 equal, but our great masters in the art were distasteful to Charles and his dissolute courtiers, whose judgment led them to reject the exquisite poetry of the Elizabethan age, tainted as it no doubt was by an inexcusable coarseness, for the more polite, though in reality the more licentious, productions of the foreign stage. To them ribaldry was humour, — rant, sublimity, — and indelicacy, wit. In compliance with this prevailing taste, every writer who aimed at popular favour was compelled to lay aside all respect for our elder dramatists, and to imi tate, to the best of his ability, French tragedy and Spanish comedy. iv. 2 Q 306 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTH Among the rest, Dryden, who, as a necessary consequence of his reso lution to live by literature, betook himself to the stage, went with the stream. His first play, ' The Wild Gallant,' was acted in 1663, but with little success. In the same year was acted his next production, ' The Rival Ladies,' a tragi-comedy, of which the tragic parts were written in rhyme and the comic in blank verse. In a dedication to the eari of Orrery prefixed to ' The Rival Ladies' on its publication, Dryden strenuously defends this employment of rhyme, and, if we may judge from the success which attended his subsequent efforts in this style, the public assented to his arguments. It would be overstepping our province to define or describe the heroic play, of which ' The Rival Ladies' is a specimen, and to the cultivation of which Dryden now de voted himself. Let it suffice to say, that its essence consisted in the portraying of overstrained and unnatural passion, and that it re sembled in many respects the old romances of chivalry. However contemptible the prize, a man of commanding talents must generally succeed in distancing his competitors, and we find accordingly, that of all the writers. of heroic plays, Dryden was the most successful. His tyrants outranted all others, and his lovers were consumed by a flame ten times more devouring than any on record, even in fiction. In con junction with his friend, Sir Robert Howard, he wrote at this time ' The Indian Queen,' a drama in the pure unsophisticated heroic style, the success of which was so remarkable, as to induce him to follow it up by another on a similar plan, entitled, ' The Indian Emperor,' in which were introduced the ghosts of several ofthe characters who had figured in ' The Indian Queen.' Though this play is deformed by many ex travagances, it had an amazing run, and established its author in a superiority to his competitors which he maintained to his dying day. Up to this period Dryden's dress and style of living had been such as suited the cast-off retainer ¦ of a defeated party, but with increasing fame he abandoned the " plain uniform suit of Norwich drugget," in r which he is described as dressed, for more fashionable apparel, and, as his person and manners were engaging, he met with marked success in the intrigues which were reckoned essential to the character of a man ^ of wit and fashion in those times. To these, however, an end was put i by his marriage, in 1665, to the Lady Elizabeth Howard, the sister of ' his friend Sir Robert Howard, and daughter of the earl of Berkshire. His wife's family, though afterwards reconciled to the match, were at first strongly opposed to it, and it would have been well for Dryden's happiness if their opposition had been successful. He acquired no fame or fortune by the alliance, and found in his consort a woman whose weak mind and uncurbed passions embittered his future life. In 1668 he published his essay on Dramatic Poesy, in which the use of rhyme and the superiority of the contemporary drama to that of all past times are stoutly defended. In point of ingenuity, apt illus tration, and, occasionally, just criticism, this is one of his happiest ef forts ; and though it involved him in a disagreeable controversy with Sir Robert Howard, who took up arms in defence of blank verse, it had the effect of increasing his reputation with the public. It was at this time that he entered into his well-known engagement with the king's company of players, for whom he undertook to write three plays every year, on consideration of receiving one share and a quarter of the pro- Period.] JOHN DRYDEN. 307 fits of the theatre, amounting to between £300, and £400 annually. Though he received the stipulated sum, he never produced so many as three in one year, nor will it be readily thought that his fame would have suffered had he still farther abridged the number of his dramatic compositions. In pursuance, however, of his engagement, he wrote ' The Maiden Queen,' which Charles honoured by his especial patronage, though for what reason it would be difficult to tell ; revived ' The Wild Gallant ;' and, in conjunction with Sir W. D'Avenant, remodelled Shakspeare's 'Tempest.' As might have been expected, this bold attempt signally failed ; nor is it the least striking proof of the excellence of our great dramatist, that two of the chief wits of their time were so ludi crously unsuccessful in their attempt to improve him. In place of the natural grace and simplicity of Shakspeare, Dryden and his associate introduce the finesse and affectation of a court, and the fairy solitude of Miranda is polluted by an atrocious indelicacy, which would have dis gusted any age but that of Charles the Second. Caliban is furnished with a sister-monster, and Miranda, who had never seen a man, is matched with a man who had never seen a woman. Yet the character of the age was such that this play met with a favourable reception. We need do no more then mention the names of several plays which fol lowed this, such as ' Sir Martin Marall,' a revision of a translation ol Moliere's ' L'Etourdi' — ' The Mock Astrologer' — and ' The Royal Mar tyr ;' but we must not pass over without comment the two parts of the ' Conquest of Granada,' which was acted in 1670. In this play Dryden seems resolved to carry the heroic drama to the highest pitch of absur dity. His hero has all the valour and fierceness of Achilles, without even his small share of vulnerability. Towered cities are not safe from his prowess, and armies fall before him. His love is as incredible and boundless as his valour. A single word from his mistress changes his most fixed purposes, and the eye which glances terror through an ar mament is bedewed with tears on the slightest token of her displeasure. Not all the romances which were committed to the flames by the cu rate and the barber, could afford a greater extravagance. " Yet," to use Johnson's language, " the scenes are for the most part delightful : "they exhibit a kind of illustrious depravity aud majestic madness, such as, if it is sometimes despised, is often reverenced, and in which the .ridiculous is mingled with the astonishing." In 1670, Dryden was appointed to the offices of royal historiographer and poet-laureate, vacant by the death of D'Avenant. He was now at the summit of his fame. Among his intimate friends he could count all who were distinguished for rank or talent in the court of his sovereign, and the unanimous voice of the public assigned to him the highest place in the literature of the day. But he was destined to find that if elevation had its charms, it was not without corresponding evils. The clever farce of ' The Rehearsal,' which appeared in 1671, had been planned some time previously, and was intended as an attack on rhyming plays in general, but circumstances had delayed its appearance until Dryden had made himself the most conspicuous writer in this style, and he consequently was selected as the chief victim of its satire. Villiers, duke of Buckingham, was the ostensible author: but it is probable that the real writers were Butler, the author of Hudibras ;' Sprat, bishop of Rochester, and Martin Clifford, the man to whom Cowley's life is 308 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTH dedicated. Bayes, the principal character in the farce, was a good cari cature of Dryden ; and that the satire might hit the right mark, Lacy, who acted Bayes, was instructed to imitate Dryden's gait, voice, man ner, and usual style of dress. The play, after a stormy reception, completely triumphed and had an amazing run. Though Dryden must have been chagrined to behold his person and writings thus successfully | ridiculed, he had the wisdom to say nothing at the time ; but long af terwards he revenged himself on Buckingham, by holding him up to ^the public laughter as Zimri in ' Absalom and Achitophel.' Besides this attack, he had to sustain a number of thrusts from writers of small note and smaller powers, many of whom were actuated by paltry feel ings of envy. On these waspish assailants he bestowed very little notice, and that little was couched in a spirit of supreme contempt which well became .him. Though heroic plays continued to haunt the stage for some time, they never recovered from the blow inflicted by ' The Rehearsal,' and Dryden was in a great measure deterred from meddling with them again. The dramas which next flowed from his pen were, a tragic-comedy entitled ' Marriage-a-la-mode,' containing much bad tragedy with some good comedy, — ' Assignation, or Love in a Nunnery,' of which the success, though small, was equal to the merits, — and ' The Massacre of Amboyna,' a wretched piece of stupidity, written to excite popular odium against the Dutch. In 1673 he had the presumption to undertake the task of refining and remodelling ' The Paradise Lost,' by putting it into rhyme 1 an exhibition of folly unequalled even by his preceding attack on Shakspeare. ' The State of Innocence,' for so this precious production was styled, is an opera in which Adam and Eve are introduced out rageously in love with one another, and coquetting as expertly as the most dashing cavalier and most prudish belle in Charles' court. It is but fair to add that Dryden subsequently recanted his errors. In addition to the success of 'The Rehearsal,' Dryden's love ofthe heroic drama had been much lessened by finding that every ranting de- claimer could successfully imitate this style of writing. By the patron age of Rochester — now Dryden's enemy — Elkanah Little, a man of small parts but ambitious temper, was advanced to a short-lived rivalry with our author. To posterity it is amusing enough to contemplate the dexterity with which Rochester played off his puppet, and the ludicrous air of triumph assumed by this diminutive of nature ; but to ' glorious John' himself it must have been extremely galling, especially as the nation and the universities, by some strange obliquity of judgment, were divided into tolerably equal parties on the merits of these ill- matched rivals. It was in truth, ' Hyperion to a Satyr.' Rochester soon tired of Little, and set up Crowne in his stead, of whom in turn be coming weary, he patronized Otway, and not content with this mode of annoyance, he shortly afterwards made a gross attack on Dryden in his ' Allusion to the tenth Satire of Horace,' bestowing on him the nickname of Poet Squob, which clung to him for many years. To finish this quarrel we may add, that in 1679 on the publication of Lord Mulgrave's Essay on Satire, which contained a bitter attack on Ro chester, this profligate nobleman, affirming Dryden to have been con cerned in the attack, had the brutal cowardice to hire ruffians to way lay and abuse him. Phriod] JOHN DRYDEN. 3°9 The causes we have mentioned, together with a minuter study of Shakspeare and our elder poets, had now opened Dryden's eyes to the faults of the heroic drama ; and ' Aurungzebe,' his next play, differs greatly from its predecessors, and is the last in which he submits to the trammels of rhyme. ' All for Love,' which followed it, was avowedly written in imitation of Shakspeare's ' Antony and Cleopatra.' The fine ness bf the story induced him, he tells us, " to try his strength on the bow of Ulysses," and the result has been a more correct, but much less interesting and poetic drama. To this succeeded ' Limberham' — a wretched piece of obscenity, endured for three nights only, — < Troilus and Cressida,' another copy from Shakspeare, the great defects of which are redeemed by the excellence of a prose essay prefixed, ' On the Grounds of Criticism in Tragedy,'— and 'The Spanish Friar,' by far the best of his comedies. At this time the nation was so distracted by the violent feuds of the protestant and popish parties, that even the drama was for a time forgotten. Dryden, who was in disgrace at court, seems to have | had at first some leanings to the protestant side ; but his discontent vanished along with that of his patron, the earl of Mulgrave, and he now took an active part in behalf of the court. To this he was thej§) more readily induced, by finding that Buckingham, Shadwell, Little, and others of his personal and literary enemies were of the opposite party. Having power on his side he was not the man to let slip an opportunity of at once distinguishing and revenging himself. In November, 1681, ap peared the first part of * Absalom and Achitophel ;' perhaps the most =.-¦ extraordinary political poem in this or any other language. Under the slight disguise of Hebrew names, he paints the characters of the chief men of the two parties : of course magnifying those attached to the court, while he overwhelms their opponents with the most fearful in vective, or lacerates them with poignant ridicule. Whatever we may think of his justice, we cannot refuse our admiration of the talent he displays. There may be many better likenesses, but there never was a gallery of such finely executed portraits. If there be any fault it is in the conclusion,— to which, however, the nature ofthe poem and the cir^_ cumstances of the times inevitably drove him. Its success was so -, great, that Dryden — to whom, in spite of his affected contempt for the opinion of the world, the incense of applause was the breath of life — followed it up by ' The Medal,' in which the character of Shaftesbury j was a second time portrayed with a happy malice, that must have_, been gall and wormwood to the unfortunate original. To both these poems answers were written by the Whig poets, though with more zeal than wit. Among the foremost of these opponents were Shadwell and I Little; and in his ' M'Flecknoe,' which appeared shortly afterwards — for he was not willing to let the new and terrible weapon he had begun to wield sleep inactive — Dryden concentrated on their unlucky heads the wrath which would have been scorching even if diffused among the whole 'crowd of confederates. Shadwell especially was 'filliped with a three-mann beetle,' in a style that would have driven most men to suicide. Not content with this, the lash was again applied to him, in a passage contributed by Dryden to the second part of Absalom and I Achitophel, the body of which was written with considerable spirit by_] Nahum Tate. Having thus signalized himself as a satirist, Dryden next took up the weapon of argument, in a long poem entitled ' Religio 310 LITERARY SERIES. [Sum Laici,' containing many passages of conspicuous ability, and intended as a confession of his own religious creed and an orthodox defence of the church of England. The death of Charles in 1 685, seems, on the whole, to have been fa vourable to Dryden's circumstances, since in Charles's dissolute reign his pension was ill-paid, and no substantial return was made to him for the large services he had rendered with his pen. Among the crowd of sycophants who hastened to sacrifice to the ' rising sun,' Dryden distinguished himself by his ' Threnodia Augustalis,' a gratulatoiy poem of considerable merit, and by ' Albion and Albanius,' an indifferent fopera, which terminates with the ascent of James to the throne. But to gain the favour of a stern bigot like James, something more was ne cessary than empty praise, and Dryden, who had never shown so much attachment to any religion as to make him ashamed of embracing a new creed, entered the Romish communion. Much has been said to justify this change of profession, but the best excuse that can be given is, that he who doubts the truth of all religions, and is indifferent to re ligion itself, can be guilty of no great crime in assuming the most con venient. His conversion was rewarded by the addition of £100 a-year to his salary, in return for which he immortalized his own apostasy, by giving to the world the ' Hind and the Panther,' a long poem, in which the Roman Catholic church is typified as a ' milk-white hind,' the Church of England as a panther, and the various other sects as [ wolves, bears, boars, foxes, &c. It is written with his usual ability, and met with considerable success. After the revolution, Dryden was under the necessity of resigning all his pensions and places, and had the additional mortification of being compelled to endure the pelting of a pitiful mob of poets and critics, whom his prudence alone prevented him from impaling. Not daring to enter the field as a political writer, he again resorted to the stage for subsistence, and in the four following years he produced ' Don Sebastian,' — ' Amphitryon,' — ' King Arthur,' — ' Cleomenes,' — and ' Love Triumphant,' his last play, which was acted in 1692, with very bad success. ' Don Sebastian,' the first play which he wrote after the revolution, is decidedly the best of his dramatic performances. It seems as if conscious of the downfall of himself and of his party, he had collected all his energies to show that in literature at least he was still triumphant. The others are not very remarkable, except as proofs of the decided change which had taken place in his notions of dramatic beauty and propriety. His circumstances in the decline of his life were probably more com fortable than might have been anticipated. He was patronized by many, who, equally with himself, were opposed to the court ; his kins^ men were reconciled to him, and from several of the nobility he was in the habit of receiving liberal proofs of their esteem. The best proof of this is to be found in the fact, that with the exception of a few pre faces, some detached translations, and an occasional copy of verses,1 he gave to the world nothing from 1692, until the publication of his great work, the translation of Virgil. This famous ¦¦ translation, " the 1 His translation of Du Fresnoy's Art of Painting, to which was prefixed a Preface, drawing a parallel between Poetry and Painting, was however written in the intervals of translating Virgil. It is a work of some magnitude. Period.] John dryden. 311 most noble and spirited," says Pope, " that I know in any language," was published in July 1697. It is probable, we think, that DrydenA' however much admired by literary men, would have been deprived of half the popularity he now enjoys, had it not been for the connection of his name with the iEneid, and its consequent familiarity in oury school-boy days. Virgil was scarcely finished, when the world was* astonished, if any thing from Dryden's pen could astonish it, by his poem of ' Alexander's Feast.' There has been a good deal of contro- \ versy as to the time occupied in the composition of this magnificent ode. The evidence seems pretty decisive that it was struck off in a single night ; and to this conclusion the unity of the piece, the close connection of the trains of thought, and the fervency of the spirit which] animates it, also leads. His next, and indeed his last publication of any consequence, was the Fables, modernizations of Chaucer, most beautifully executed, to which he added a version of the first book of Homer, whom he had some thoughts of translating. Towards the close of his life, he was bitterly attacked by Sir R. Blackmore, and Jeremy Collier, for the indecencies of many of his dramatic produc tions ; and it is pleasing to find, that having outlived the debauched age, for which most of his plays were written, he never attempted to answer the vehement and somewhat blustering accusations of Collier, but admitted their truth, and expressed his sorrow. The city knight, however, he chastised in a manner which his folly well deserved. He had now been for sometime labouring under a complication of chronic diseases. The gout and the gravel had long embittered his existence, and more lately the erysipelas had seized one of his legs. In consequence of neglect, a slight inflammation on one of his toes became a gangrene. His medical attendant proposed amputation, but Dryden refused, and mortification taking place, he expired on Wed- day morning, May 1st, 1700, at 3 o'clock. He was sensible almost to the last, and died professing his faith in the Roman Catholic church. His body was embalmed and lay in state at Physician's Hall, where a funeral oration was pronounced over his remains by Dr Garth on the 13th of May, after which they were conveyed to Westminster Abbey, preceded by a band of music, and attended by a numerous cavalcade of carriages. They were deposited between the graves of Chaucer and Cowley, — a worthy sepulture for such honoured clay. _._. It is a difficult matter to form a fair estimate of the talents and taste ] of a man whose style and habits of thought varied so frequently as those of Dryden. We have already seen, that after making his debut as an imitator of Cowley, he became the leader of a widely different school ; and that after many years and many triumphs had established his reputation, and given him the sway of a despot in the world of let ters, he ventured upon another change, by adopting a simple and na tural style of writing. Hence it. happens, that unless strict regard be paid to; the time at which his compositions were written, and to the fluctuations of his own and of the public taste, the attempt to form a clear and consistent estimate of his powgrs will be as fruitless as an attempt to fix the principles of a trading politician, or a poet-lau reate. Nor is this the only source of difficulty : Dryden's necessities were constantly urgent, and compelled him to give to the world, for the sake of bread, many compositions which should have slept in oblivion, 312 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixil) for the sake of fame. What Gibbon said of Bayle, will apply, witl> , equal force to Dryden : " The inequality of his voluminous works, is explained and excused, by his alternately writing for himself, for the i booksellers, and for posterity ; and if a severe critic reduce him to a single folio, the relic, like the books of the Sibyls, would become still I more valuable." j- The race of poets who preceded Dryden, and whom he supplanted, 'are too well-known to require any elaborate description of their cha racter. Sir W. Scott appears to think that Donne, Cowley, and others of what has been termed the metaphysical school of poets, were his , predecessors in public favour ; and it is, no doubt, true, that they were in high fashion among the fantastic Euphuists of the court : but it is equally certain, that the nation at large clung with enthusiastic fond ness to Shakspeare, and the bright stars of the Elizabethan era, until the civil wars banished all literary taste. Nor is it wonderful that it should be so. These extraordinary men wrote in a natural inartificial style, which comes home at once to the heart of the reader. They followed no rules of art, — they cared not for canons of criticism, — but, seizing the inspiration of the moment, they allowed themselves to be carried away by it. In their page, imagination " wantons as in her prime, and plays at will Her virgin-fancies." We seldom stop in perusing them to admire the talents of the au thor, for we too are swept along by the full tide of his enthusiasm ; we - ' feel as he feels, — we rejoice when he rejoices, — we weep when he weeps. It is not until we have laid aside the book, and set ourselves calmly to examine into the causes of the emotion we have experienced, that we ~ discover the excellence ofthe writer. It was this school which Dryden was destined to supplant. Had he only imbibed in his youth the taste for their beauties which characterized his maturest manhood, we firmly believe that his fine talents, even with all the opposition of the court, would have restored them to the favour in which they had been held before the civil war, and that our literature would never have known the long night wliich has overshadowed it, ever since the decline ofthe style which Dryden founded, and Pope carried to its highest point of perfection. We do not mean, that he would ever have rivalled his models ; all that we intend is, that he would have produced works more honourable to himself than he has done. We should have had more fables and lyrics, and fewer Indian Emperors and Conquests of Granada. ,• Unfortunately, however, it happened, that Charles, during his conti nental wanderings, had imbibed a taste for continental literature ; and the nation, in the fit of drunken joy which followed the king's return, imitated him but too closely. Even had Dryden's judgment at that time led him to prefer a purer style, he was too much a man of the world to worship at a deserted altar. His wants and his love of popu larity drove him into compliance with the ruling fashion ; and although. he acquired excellencies of which the earlier writers knew nothing, he lost more than he gained. He is indeed an abler versifier, — a more correct writer, — a more finished play-wright, and a more brilliant rhe torician, — but he wants their unstudied grace — their exquisite touches of PbRIOD.] JOHN DRYDEN. 313 nature ; he wants the rich traditions of a spirit that knows " no re lish of an earthly thought," — the soul that kindles into splendour as some lofty thought or high imagining darts into its solemn sanc tuaries.8 It would be impossible within our limits to give any thing like an adequate criticism on the merits of Dryden in each of the different departments of literature which engaged his attention. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves to sketching, more clearly than we have yet done, the revolutions which took place in his taste, and to pointing out that general character of mind which is discernible in all his writings. There are three stages in the history of Dryden's mind which it is im portant to mark. The first of these embraces the brief period during which he abandoned himself to the style introduced by the precepts and examples of Donne and Cowley. It has always struck us that this was a style of writing in which Dryden would have especially excelled. Possessed of ample stores of knowledge, — able to recall these stores at a moment's warning, and to embody his conceptions in harmonious verse, — he would have united the attractions of Waller and Cowley, and,, with a little practice, would have as easily surpassed the one in the multiplicity of his allusions, and the extravagance of his analogies, as he did the other in command of diction and exquisite flow of rhythm. Fortunately for his fame he was preserved from making the attempt by a change of fashion, and the style he now adopted was diametrically opposite. In this — the second of the three stages — he became a disciple in the school of heroic poetry, — one not less artificial than that which he had just abandoned. Banishing the cold conceits, frigid analogies and icy similes, which form the glory of the ' Astrea Redux,' and ' An nus Mirabilis,' he crossed over at one stride to the contrary extreme, and overdid Termagaunt himself in the vehemence of his passion, and the fury of his declamation. His poetry had hitherto been addressed to the head alone ; he now left the head altogether out of the question, and attempted to appeal at once to the heart. Instead of artificial fire works, he now launched forth real flames in an endless profusion. It is unnecessary to point out the faults of this hyperbolic school. Suf fice it to say, that Dryden was delivered from the gulf into which he had fallen by another change of fashion, and learned at last, that, after all, nature is the best and surest mistress. It is not improbable that this change of opinions was in part effected by his own reflection on the abstract propriety of things ; for the prefaces prefixed to many of his plays, and his celebrated essay on dramatic poesy, show, that even in the midsummer-madness of the heroics, his critical acumen had dis- * The difference between Dryden and these writers is so admirably illustrated by Mr Macauley, in an article in Vol. XLVII. of the Edinburgh Review, that we shall be readily excused for giving the extract entire: — " In looking over the admirable designs which accompany the Faust, we have always been much struck by one which represents the wizard and the tempter riding at full speed. The demon sits on his furious horse as heedlessly as if he were reposing in a chair. That he should keep his saddle in such a posture would seem impossible to tiny who did not know that he was secure in the pri vileges of a superhuman nature. The attitude of Faust, on the contrary, is the perfec tion of finished horsemanship. Poets of the first order might safely write as desperately as Mephistophiles rode. But Dryden, though admitted to communion with higher spirits, though armed with a portion of their power, and intrusted with some of their secrets, was of another race. What they might securely venture to do, it was madness in him to attempt. It was necessary that taste and critical science should supply his de ficiencies." IV. 2 R 314 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth covered some broken rays of truth ; and indeed he was of too large a soul to be permanently cramped and pinioned by ridiculous affecta tions. Thus, then, he arrived at the prime manhood of his taste and wit. The first indications of this change are to be found in Aurengzebe, and probably the success of his satires confirmed him in ah attachment to a manly, straight forward, English style of thinking and writing. If, then, we wish to view Dryden in his highest excellency, we must study those ofhis writings which appeared between the publication of Aureng zebe and his death. These are the true monuments of his fame. Pas sages in his preceding productions might have been admired,— the fine madness of his Almanzor might have been applauded by a few critics, -^grammarians might have celebrated his amazing command over the English language, — and the world would have heard of him as a writer of great popularity in the days of Charles the Second ; but had it not heen for the immortal works which he produced in this the third stage of his career, he would never have existed in the minds of posterity as ' glorious John Dryden,'- — the man who imparted a bias to our liter ature, of which the effects are yet visible, and the greatest poet that the country has seen since it gave birth to Milton. Having thus briefly sketched the history of Dryden's taste, we must now attempt to delineate the more prominent features ofhis mind. The great endowment which he received from the hands of nature was a remarkable power of acute, original, independent reasoning. Whatever may have been his faults, they were all his own. He grasped a sub ject for himself with the strong grasp of conscious genius ; and if ever the arguments of others entered bis head, they served no other pur pose than to elucidate his own view of the question. He seems never to have dreamed of bowing to authority, or of admitting the force of any argument he did not himself originate, but to have relied confi dently on the adequacy of his own powers, and calmly to have worked out for himself, in the depths ofhis own spirit, the conclusion at which he arrives. We give him our implicit belief when he tells us that his dislike of rhyming plays was hot occasioned by the arguments of those who impugned them. Even where he brings forward opinions which others have entertained long before, there is an impress of originality on his mode of stating them, which shows that if he did not originate them, he has at least verified them for himself. It would be difficult to peruse any part of Dryden's works without being struck with the pre ponderance of this over his other intellectual powers. The only pass ages in his heroic plays, which are read with much pleasure, are those in which he stops the progress of the action, while his characters rea son on the nature of love, or on the abstract questions of foreknowledge, free will, and fate. The ' Religio Laici,' and ' The Hind and the Panther,' would alone have been sufficient to buoy up his name on the sea of time : and their merit consists almost entirely in the clearness and vivacity of the reasoning, — in the lucid statement of the argu- ments,— and in the exquisite skill with which they are brought out and placed in the most advantageous light. He possessed also an extraor dinary measure of that which is the soul of all talent, — energetic ar dour. It was this which, in so many cases, vitiated his reasoning. He could not stay coolly to examine the grounds ofhis opinions; they struck him forcibly ; he could muster up strong arguments in their favour, and Peiuod.] JOHN DRYDEN'. 315 the impression was too vivid to allow of reflection. His mind readily supplied him with ideas, and the fire ofhis nature made him pour thein forth without due examination. The inevitable consequence was that correctness was ofttimes sacrificed to force. Tliere is, in all his writ ings, a masculine vigour which carries the reader forward so rapidly, that he scarcely notices the occasional roughness and inequality of the way. If to these endowments;, we add a tenacious memory, — a keen observation, — f from some of the persons therein mentioned ; but they, as well as he, being now dead, it is hoped that the revival of it at this juncture, will answer the same good purposes originally intended by the author." ' Dies Novissima' was printed from a manuscript under our author's own hand ; it was probably his last production, and written by him at no very distant period before his decease. Dr Johnson having favour ably noticed ' The Choice,' remarks : " In his other poems there is an easy volubility ; the pleasure of smooth metre is afforded to the ear, and the mind is not oppressed with ponderous, or entangled with intri cate, sentiment. He pleases many, and he who pleases many, must have some species of merit." Period.] 327 BORN a. D. 1620. — DIED A. D. 1706. John, the son of Richard Evelyn of Wotton, in the county of Surrey, was born at Wotton, on the 31st of October, 1620. When he was eight years old, he began to learn Latin at Lewes, and was afterwards sent to the free school at Southover. In 1637, he was placed as a fellow commoner at Baliol college, Oxford, whither he went, he says, " rather out of shame of abiding longer at school than from any fitness, as by sad experience I found, which put me to relearn all that I had neglected, or but perfunctorily gained." The young Evelyn had, in truth, been a very idle fellow at school, having been entrusted to the charge of his maternal grandmother during this period, whose over- fondness had nearly spoiled him. Yet with all his consciousness of deficiency, Evelyn continued to turn his attention to a variety of studies while at college, not neglecting those personal accomplishments which were deemed indispensable to all gentlemen in these times. Soon after having removed to the Middle Temple, his father died ; his mother had died when he was only fifteen years of age, so that he and his brothers were left alone at a very critical period of life. The ominous appearance of public affairs determined young Evelyn, now in his twenty-first year, to pass some time abroad. Genappe was at this time besieged by the French and Dutch ; thither Evelyn directed his steps, but did not reach it till four or five days after it had capitu lated. He was, however, complimented by being received a volun teer in Captain Apsley's corps ; but after trailing a pike for a week, he took his leave of foreign service, and returned to England, where he studied a little, but, to use his own words, " danced and fooled more." On the breaking out of the civil war, Evelyn offered his services to the king at Brentford, but soon afterwards retired to his brother's house at Wotton ; and finally, when the covenant was pressed, finding it " impossible to evade the doing very unhandsome things," he obtain ed the king's permission to go abroad. Evelyn was a minute and de lighted observer of every thing rare and curious in art and nature, and has inserted a journal of his continental tour in his auto-biography. The * gallant citie' of Paris, the treasures at St Denis, the gardens of the Tuilleries and Luxembourg, Cardinal Richelieu's villa and painted arch, the galleys at Marseilles, Prince Doria's aviary at Genoa, and a hundred other objects besides, are all described by him with laboured minuteness of detail. In passing through Italy, his attention seems to have been chiefly attracted by palaces and pictures, gardens and museums, and other objects of art, to the exclusion of the more glori ous charms with which nature has invested that 'sunny land.' At Naples he was seized with a fit of home-sickness ; but hearing of an English ship bound for the Holy land, he determined to visit the East before resuming the life of a country-gentleman in England, — a deter mination which was, to his great mortification, frustrated, by his vessel being pressed for the service of the state to carry provisions to Candia, 328 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth then newly attacked by the Turks. At Padua he was elected Syndicus Artistarum, but declined the honour because it was ' charge able' and would have interfered with his plans of travel. Whilst in- that city, he embraced the opportunity of hearing the celebrated anatomy lectures in the university, and purchased from Leonsenas a set of drawings of the veins and nerves of the human frame, which he presented, on his return home, to the Royal society. Previous to em barking for England, he married the daughter of Sir Richard Browne, the British resident at the court of France. This lady was only in the fourteenth year of her age at the time of her marriage, but she appears to have made a most affectionate and discreet wife, and; when in her will she desired to be buried by her husband's side, she speaks in the following terms of him : " his care of my education was such as might become a father, a lover, a friend, and husband, for instruction, ten derness, affection, and fidelity, to the last moment of his life." In the autumn of 1647, he arrived in England, and was presented at Hampton-court. After ' unkingship,' as he calls it, had been pro claimed, he applied for and obtained passports from Bradshaw for France ; but in January, 1651, he returned to England, and settled himself on his estate of Sayes-court, near Deptford, to which he had succeeded in right of his wife. From this place he appears to have kept up a correspondence with the exiled king and his ministers, but the kindness of an old school-fellow, Colonel Morley, then one of the council of state, was successfully exerted to protect him from annoyance on account of the suspicions which he incurred. Evelyn's tastes, how ever, were fortunately for himself more strongly d;rected to other objects than those of politics. Sylvan employments, particularly gar dening and ornamental planting formed his passion, and to these tran quil and delightful pursuits he devoted himself with a zeal, and industry,. and genius, which few have brought to higher tasks. But artificial gardening was in Evelyn's eyes no mean mystery. His scheme of a royal garden comprehended knots, trayle-work, parterres, comparte- ments, borders, banks and embossments, labyrinths, dedals, cabinets, cradles, close-walks, galleries, pavilions, porticos, lanterns, and other relievos of topiary and hortulan architecture, fountains, jettos, cascades, piscines, rocks, grotts, cryptae, mounts, precipices and ventiducts, gazon-theatres, artificial echoes, automata and hydraulic music. No won der then that with such an idea of what was necessary to constitute a complete garden, Evelyn should think that " it would still require the revolution of many ages, with deep and long experience, for any man to emerge a perfect and accomplished artist-gardener." Equally great was Evelyn's passion for the more practical science of horticulture. Quoting from Milton, the verses which describe " the first empress ofthe world regaling her celestial guest," he observes exultingly, -- then the hortulan provision of the golden age fitted all places, times, and per sons ; and when man is restored to that state again, it will be asit was in the beginning." The reader will smile at our ' artist-gardener's' enthusiasm, but it was in such pursuits that Evelyn attracted the esteem and admiration of some of the most eminent men of his age, who bore willing testimony to the amiableness of his character, and commended the pursuits to which he had devoted himself. Jeremy Taylor declares, in a letter which he wrote to him after his first visit to Sayes-court, that Period.] JOHN EVELYN. 329 he found all his circumstances " to be an heape and union of bless ings ;" and Cowley has the following address to Evelyn : — Happy art thou whom God does bless With the full choice of thine own happiness ! And happier yet because thou'rt blest With prudence how to choose the best. Ill books and gardens thou hast placed aright Thy noble innocent delight ; And in thy virtuous wife, where thou again dost meet Both pleasure more refined and sweet, The fairest garden in her looks, And in her mind the wisest books. Evelyn was a staunch adherent to the forms and usages of the church of England, and afforded shelter in his house to several of the silenced clergy. The incumbent ofhis parish church was, to use his own words, " somewhat of the Independent, yet he ordinarily preached sound doc trine ;" but he says, he " seldom went to church on solemn feasts, but rather went to London, where some of the orthodox sequestered divines did privately use the common prayer, administer sacraments, &c. or else I procured one to officiate in my own house." On Sunday after noons he frequently stayed at home to catechize and instruct his family. The death of Cromwell revived the hopes of the royalists, and em boldened them to act more openly for the restoration of Charles. Eve lyn caught the general impulse of his party, and, in November 1659, published an apology for his party and for the king, which he says took universally. He had already appeared as an author ; but in his former publications had studiously eschewed politics. The Restoration crowned Evelyn's earthly felicity, by bringing home his father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne. In 1664, when war was declared against the Dutch, he was appointed one of the four commissioners for taking care of the sick and wounded. While engaged in the humane but laborious duties of his office, the plague broke out in London ; but, although Evelyn saw pro per to send away his wife and family from the chance of contagion, he continued himself to look after his charge as commissioner, trusting in the providence and goodness of God. An extract from one of his let ters written at this- time, places his character in the most amiable point of view in which we have yet contemplated it : " one fortnight," he says, " has made me feel the utmost of miseries that can befall a person in my station and with my affections. To have 25,000 prisoners, and 1500 sick and wounded men, to take care of, without one penny ot money, and above £ 2000 indebted." Again he writes to an official personage, " I beseech your honour let us not be reputed barbarians ; or, if at last we must be so, let me not be the executor of so much in humanity, when the price of one good subject's life is rightly considered of more value than the wealth of the Indies." The fire of London made another call on Evelyn's patriotism, and within two days after that terri ble conflagration, we find him presenting to the king a plan for a new city, which coincided in many points with that of Wren. Evelyn enjoyed the uniform confidence of the king, who treated him with much affability and kindness ; but the vices ofthe dissolute monarch, and the general licentiousness introduced by his practices, were a source of iv. 2 T 330 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth unaffected regret to his faithful subject, and are often touchingly ad verted to in his diary. Under James, he was nominated one of the com missioners for executing the office of privy-seal during Henry Lord Clar endon's lieutenancy in Ireland. The Revolution could hardly be said to find a staunch supporter in Evelyn ; but it is certain, that from his attachment to the church of England, and dread of James's known lean ing to popery, he approved of resistance at least being offered to some of that infatuated monarch's plans. After the Revolution he was made treasurer of Greenwich hospital. The successive deaths of his two daughters and only remaining son were deeply felt by Evelyn, now bending under the weight of nearly four score years ; but he retained his health and faculties unimpaired, until the 86th year of his age, when death removed him to a better world. Evelyn's ' Sylva,'or treatise on forest trees, and his ' Diary,' are both of them very delightful productions. The former is a great repository of all that was known, in the author's time, concerning the forest-trees of Great Britain, their growth and culture, and their uses and qualities real or imaginary. It has gone through nine editions since its first pub lication in 1664. The latter is one of the most amusing pieces of auto biography in the English language. His work entitled ' Numismata, a discourse of Medals,' is still held in high estimation. He was interred at Wotton, where his tomb bears an inscription expressing, according to his own intention, that " living in an age of extraordinary events and revolutions, he had learned from thence this truth, which he deemed might be thus communicated to posterity : that all is vanity which is not honest, and that there is no so'id wisdom but in real piety." — His son, John Evelyn, was the author of several pieces in Dryden's miscel lanies. Mt CijarUs MW* S- BORN A.D. 1639. — DIED A. D. 1702. The witty and accomplished Sir Charles Sedley was the son of Sir John Sedley of Aylesford in Kent. He was born about the year 1639. His family were staunch royalists ; and, at the Restoration, young Sedley was sent up to London to push his fortunes at court. His accomplishments, his handsome person, his wit, and his poetical talents, won him universal favour at the court of " the merrie monarch," where he soon became a leader in the universal revelry and debauchery, The poetasters did homage to his superior genius and better stars; Buckingham raved about " Sedley's witchcraft ;" and the king himself declared that, in the person of Sir Charles, his court was honoured with the attendance of Apollo's deputy. Yet the man to whom all this intoxicating flattery was presented was, as to poetical talents, nothfng more than a writer of amorous verses, in which grossness of expression, and indelicacy of sentiment, were substituted for tenderness, pathos, and sensibility. The truth is, the manners of the man did more for him than his poetical talents. He was certainly one of the most accomplished gentlemen of his age, and in this respect was held up as a perfect model amongst the fashionable men of the day : wit- Period.] ROBERT HOOKE. 331 ness the verses of Lord Rochester, beginning with " Sedley has that prevailing gentle art," in which the allusion evidently is to the un rivalled grace and ease of his personal address But our courtier's reputation for wit and gallantry was purchased at a heavy expense : his means were squandered, his morals utterly perverted, and he was daily sinking deeper and deeper into hopeless profligacy, when, by one of those sudden revulsions of feeling which occasionally though rarely occur in the history of early libertines, he was snatched from impending ruin, and induced to apply his thoughts and time to occupations more worthy of his genius and rank. He entered parliament, and soon became a frequent and distinguished speaker. During the reign of James II. he vigorously withstood the inroads which the infatuated monarch attempted to make upon the con stitution ; and he took an active part in bringing about the Revolution. His political conduct, however, it has been alleged, was prompted in this instance by personal hostility to James, who had corrupted Sir Charles' daughter, and rendered her infamy more conspicuous by creating her countess of Dorchester. Sedley 's works were printed in two volumes, 8vo. in 1719. toobttt $ioaks. BORN A.D. 1635. — DIED A.D. 1702. This eminent mathematician and natural philosopher, was the son of the Rev. John Hooke of Freshwater, in the isle of Wight. He early betrayed a strong mechanical genius, to which he added more than or dinary docility in the acquisition of languages. The celebrated Dr Busby was for a time his preceptor, and under him he acquired a very respectable knowledge of Greek and Latin, to which he subsequently added some acquaintance with the Oriental languages. In 1653 he entered Christ-church college, Oxford ; and in 1655 he became a member of the philosophical society there. At this period he assisted Dr Wallis in his chemical experiments, and Dr Seth Ward in his astronomical observations. Under the guidance of these two men young Hooke made rapid advances in natural philosophy, and soon became their worthy collaborateur. He invented several astrono mical instruments, and improved others ; he was also particularly ser viceable to Mr Boyle while perfecting his invention of the air-pump. In 1664 the Royal society elected Hooke their curator of experi ments. In 1666 he was employed in surveying the city of London previous to its being rebuilt after the great fire. In 1677 he succeed ed Oldenburg as secretary to the Royal society. From this period he seems to have devoted himself exclusively to the study of natural philo sophy in all its branches, and the inventing and perfecting of philoso phical instruments. His health was considerably impaired, and his sight failed him some time previous to his death, which took place in 1702, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. He was interred in St Helen's church, London, his funeral being attended by nearly all the members of the Royal society. He was of an active and indefatigable genius, often continuing his studies all night. His temper was melan- 332 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth choly, mistrustful, and jealous, which increased with his years ; and his penuriousness was such, that, although his circumstances were aflSuent, he could scarcely suffer himself to use even the common necessaries of life. He contrived the building of the College of physicians and the monument on Fish-Street Hill, London, and was often employed in de signing other buildings. His writings consist of the Cutlerian lectures on mechanics ; several descriptions of philosophical instruments, and some philosophical coh lections. Waller, his successor in the secretaryship ofthe Royal society, published a selection of his posthumous works. Some of the fundamental doctrines of modern chemistry are hinted at in his ' Micrographia' which was first published in 1664, and in his ' Lampas,' which appeared in 1667. He appears to have given much of his attention to the improvement of telegraphic communications, of which, however, the marquess of Worcester had unquestionably given the first hint. To Hooke also we are indebted for the invention of the wheel-barometer, the universal joint, the screw-divided quadrant, telescopic sights for astronomical instruments, and sundry pieces of watch and clock machinery. Hooke does not appear to have been one of the most amiable of men ; and he has been charged with laying claim to the inventions and discoveries of others. His first employment of the conical pendulum was no less ingenious than original. He employed it to represent the mutual gravitation of the planets, — a fact which he had previously announced in his writings and lectures. He conceived that a force perfectly analogous to that of gravity on the surface of our earth operated on the surface of the moon and of Jupiter ; and he inferred that it was the same power which main tained the orbicular form of the sun and the- other planets. He infer red the law of a universal gravitation of the larger bodies of our sys tem towards the sun ; and that it was not the body of the earth, but the centre of gravity of the earth and the moon, which traced out an elliptical path around the sun. He therefore invented a conical pen dulum whose tendency to assume a vertical position represented the gravitation towards the sun, and which was projected at right angles to the vertical plane ; and then he showed experimentally how the different proportions of the projectile and centripetal tendencies pro duced various degrees of eccentricity in the orbit. He then added another pendulum, which he made to describe a cone round the first, while the first was describing a cone round the vertical line, and en deavoured to fix what point between them described the ellipse. The experiment failed, but the idea was highly ingenious. It was left for Sir Isaac Newton to determine the true law of gravitation, which would produce the description of an ellipse round the assigned focus. Period.] 333 C^omas MttUtton. BORN A.D. 1635 DIED A.D. 1710. Whatever opinions may be entertained as to the effect of theatri cal entertainments on public morals, it is certain that the stage has exercised a powerful influence over English literature, and it will be expected that a few at least of our pages shall be devoted to some brief notices of the principal histrionic artists that have appeared amongst us. We possess almost no authentic materials for the memoirs of any of the English players who flourished previous to the days of Thomas Betterton. This actor was born in Tothill-street, Westminster, in Au gust, 1635. His father was undercook to Charles I. The boy's fond ness for reading induced his father to apprentice him to one Rhodes, a bookseller, near Charing-cross. This Rhodes had been wardrobe- keeper to the theatre in Blackfriars, and about the year 1659, he obtained a license for a company of players, for whose performances he fitted up the cockpit in Drury-lane. All his actors were new hands, and the two principal of them were two apprentices of his own, Better- ton, and Kynaston. The former, having a strong sonorous voice and manly bearing, was selected for the leading male parts in the plays which Rhodes's company performed ; the latter was better adapted, in his slight handsome person and soft pronunciation, to sustain the female parts of the drama. It was not until after the Restoration that the gravity of English morals was so far relaxed as to allow of women appearing on the stage. In the spring of 1662, Rhodes's company was placed under the superintendence of Sir William Davenant, and assumed the title of the duke of York's company : his majesty had the other companies collect ed into one establishment, under the name of the king's company. These two establishm- ts greatly interested the court and nobility, and afforded abundant employment to their royal patrons by their continual disputes and wranglings. They were both liberally patronised, how ever. Cibber says, that plays having been so long prohibited, people came to them now with greater eagerness, like folks after a long fast to a great feast ; and that the introduction of women to the stage was felt to be a great improvement on the former practice of having the female parts borne by boys or young men of effeminate aspect and manners. He takes notice also of a rule which was laid down for the prevention of disputes betwixt the two companies : namely, that no play which was acted at one house should ever be attempted at the other. All the principal plays of Shakspeare, Fletcher, Jonson, and the other drama tists, were^ divided betwixt the two companies, so that while Hart had the uncontrolled range of, and grew great in, Othello, Betterton was no less fortunate in the exclusive possession of Hamlet.1 It is said that in the character of the prince of Denmark — in which, according to all contemporary evidence, Betterton was uncommonly splendid — that 1 See Apology. 334 literary series. [Sam player had the advantage of Davenant's tuition, who had himself been instructed by Shakspeare as to the proper mode of embodying his con ceptions on the stage. " You have seen," says Cibber, " a Hamlet, perhaps, who, on the first appearance of his father's spirit, has thrown himself into all the straining vociferation requisite to express rage and fury ; and the house has thundered with applause, though the misguided actor was all the while, as Shakspeare terms it, ' tearing a passion into rags.' I am the more bold to offer you this particular instance, because the late Mr Addison, while I sat by him to see this scene acted, made the same observation : asking me with some surprise if I thought Hamlet should be in so violent a passion with the ghost, which, though it might have astonished, had not provoked him. For you may observe that in his beautiful speech, the passion never rises beyond an almost breathless astonishment, or an impatience limited by filial reverence to inquire into the suspected wrongs that may have raised him from his peaceful tomb, and a desire to know what a spirit so seemingly distressed might wish or enjoin a sorrowful son to execute towards his future quiet in the grave. This was the light into which Betterton threw this scene, which he opened with a pause of mute amazement, then rising slowly to a solemn trembling voice, he made the ghost equally terrible to the spectator as to himself; and, in the descriptive part of the natural emotions which the ghastly vision gave him, the boldness of his expos tulation was still governed by decency, — manly but not braving, — his voice never rising into that seeming outrage or wild defiance of what he naturally revered. But, alas I to preserve this medium between mouthing and meaning too little, — to keep the attention more pleas ingly awake by a tempered spirit than by mere vehemence of voice, — is, of all the master-strokes of an actor, the most difficult to reach. In this, none yet have equalled Betterton. He that feels not himself the passion he would raise will talk to a sleeping audience ; but this never was the fault of Betterton." The reader may be gratified to contrast this description, as we may consider it, of Betterton's style of acting in the prime of life, with the following account of his appearance on the stage when no less than seventy-four years of age. " Had you seen him to night," says a correspondent of the Tatler, " you had seen the force of action in perfection. Your admired Mr Betterton behaved himself so well that, though now about seventy-four, he acted youth, and, by the prevalent power of proper manner, gesture, and voice, appeared through the whole drama a young man of great expectation, vivacity, and enterprise. The soliloquy, where- he began the cele brated sentence of ' To be, or not to be,' — the expostulation, where he explains with his mother in her closet, — the noble ardour, after seeing his father's ghost, — and his generous distress for the death of Ophelia, are each of them circumstances which dwell strongly upon the minds of the audience, and would certainly affect their behaviour on any parallel occasions in their own lives." These are strong attestations to the merits of this early actor ; but they are surpassed by the following paragraph from the author of ' The Lick at the Laureate.' " I have lately," says that anonymous writer, " been told by a gentleman who has frequently seen Betterton perform Hamlet, that he observed his countenance, which was naturally ruddy and sanguine, in the scene of Period j THOMAS BETTERTON. 335 the third act, where his father's ghost appears, through the violent and sudden emotion of amazement and horror, turn instantly as pale as his neckcloth, when his whole body seemed to be affected with a tremour inexpressible : so that had his father's ghost actually risen before him, he could not have been seized with more real agonies. And this was felt so strongly by the audience that the blood seemed to shudder in their veins likewise, and they in some measure partook of the astonish ment and horror with which they saw this excellent actor affected." In the course of 1663, Betterton married a lady of great talent who had joined his own company as an actress, and was one of the first, if not the first female performer, that came upon the English stage. The principal characters sustained by her were those of Ianthe in the siege of Rhodes, Ophelia, Juliet, Queen Catherine, and Lady Macbeth. The last was her best character. She is supposed to have died about 1712. On the death of Sir William Davenant, Betterton obtained the prin cipal management ofthe Duke's company ; and in 1682, when a union was formed between the two rival companies, Mr Betterton was still continued in the direction. But in 1690 a new patent was issued, the terms of which dissatisfied him. He applied to the earl of Dorset, and, through his influence, obtained an independent license for himself, and a few of the best players who adhered to him, under which they built a new theatre in Portugal-street, Lincoln's inn, which was opened in April, 1695, with Congreve's comedy of 'Love for Love.' This speculation turned out unfortunate, and Betterton sold his shares, and resigned his management to Sir John Vanbrugh, who erected a new theatre in the Haymarket, in which Betterton accepted an engagement as an actOr only. Old age, disease, and misfortune, had sadly reduced Betterton by this time ; but he continued occasionally to act with all the fire and vivacity of youth ; and such was the esteem in which he was held by the public, that on the occasion of a benefit being announced for him, in the month of April, 1710, the proceeds exceeded one thou sand pounds. The effort, however, though most successful, was fatal to Betterton. He had been labouring under a fit of gout for some time previous to his appearance in public ; and the exertion which he made on this occasion determined the disease to his head. He died within three days from the date of this performance. His remains were deposited, with much funeral pomp, in the cloisters of Westminster abbey. Sir Richard Steele attended the ceremony, and has described it -in one of his Tatlers with great beauty and force of moral reflection. Betterton's authority on all points connected with the drama, appears to have been regarded as paramount by even the most gifted of his contemporaries. In the preface to ' Don Sebastian,' Dryden says : " About 1200 lines have been cut off from this tragedy since it was first delivered to the actors. They were indeed so judi ciously lopped by Mr Betterton, to whose care and excellent action I am equally obliged, that the connection of the story was not lost." Betterton was the author of a comedy, entitled ' The Woman made a Justice.' His alterations and adaptations to the stage are more suc cessful performances than his original pieces. 8 No. 167. 836 literary series. [SiXTb Mt Wttntg &HjtuI). BORN A.D. 1647 DIED A.D. 1710. In addition to an unusual diversity of talent, Dean Aldrich exhibited' such eminence in each ofthe pursuits to which he devoted himself, that his reputation would have been great and well-merited though it had rested but upon a single basis. At the same time that he was greatly distinguishing himself as a polemical writer, a polite scholar, a theolo gian, a profound critic, an architect, and a man of sound judgment and exquisite taste in arts, science, and literature in general, he became so profound in the theory and practice of music, that bis compositions, particularly for the church, equal in number and excellence those of the greatest masters of his time. He was born at Westminster in the year 1647, and was educated under Dr Busby, then master of Westminster school. After the usual course of preparation, he entered Christ-church college, Oxford, and subsequently took orders. Distinguished for his profound knowledge and extensive learning, he soon became a tutor of his college, and in that capacity acquired much fame. In February, 1681, he was install ed canon of Christ-church, and very shortly after he accumulated the degrees of bachelor and doctor in divinity. Among those clergymen who, at this period, distinguished themselves by their zealous opposi tion to the church of Rome, Aldrich bore a considerable part ; indeed Burnet classes him with the more eminent divines, " who managed and directed this controversial war." Of the manner in which the clergy conducted their side of the argument, he thus writes : " They ex amined all the points of popery with a solidity of judgment, a clear ness of arguing, a depth of learning, and a vivacity of writing, far beyond any thing that had before that time appeared in our language. The truth is, they were very unequally yoked ; for, though they are justly to he reckoned among the best writers that have ap peared on the protestant side, those they wrote against were certainly among the weakest that had ever appeared on the popish side." He says, further, " that popery was never so well understood by the nation, as it came to be upon this occasion." Dr Aldrich, in short, made him self so conspicuous by his merits in this and other respects, that, at the Revolution, when Massey, the popish dean of Christ-church, fled beyond sea, the deanery was conferred upon him. Thus having passed through the whole series of academic honours, and acquired a high re putation for learning both as a student and a tutor, his excellence of character and pleasing deportment, as master of the college, attracted the esteem and love of all its members. His own attachment to the university induced the exercise of all his energies, the employment of all his various talents, for the promotion of its honour and fame. To support its credit for attention to classical studies, he made it his prac tice, in imitation of Dr Fell, to edit and publish annually some Greek author, as a new year's present to the students, of his house. Epictetus, Theophrastus, Plato, Xenophon, and Plutarch, were among the writers to whom he thus gave his attention. He composed a ' System of Lo- Period.] DR HENRY ALDRICH. 337 gic,' which went through several editions. He printed also a book on the ' Elements of Geometry,' in Latin, in a large thin octavo ; probably for the use of some of his friends or pupils, for it was never published. Use was made of his assistance in the preparation of Gregory's Greek Testament, printed at Oxford, 1703. To Dean Aldrich, in conjunc tion with Bishop Sprat, was committed the revisal of the manuscript of Lord Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, but it does not appear that any considerable additions or alterations were introduced. The dean was also one of the ecclesiastical commissioners appointed by William III., in 1689, to pave the way for some alterations in the church ser vice, &c. ; but he, with Mew and Sprat, the then bishops of Winches ter and Rochester, withdrew after the first meeting of the committee. They objected first to all alterations whatever, and next to the appoint ment of a special commission. The doctor's eminence in the fine arts, to which allusion has been made, was evinced in the beauty of the Peckwater-square, a part of Christ-college, the whole of which was designed by him, and which, as Chamberlayne says, " is esteemed a regular and complete piece of architecture by all who have seen it, natives and foreigners." The parish church of All-saints, in Oxford, which he is known to have de signed, is esteemed a finished specimen of his knowledge and taste in architecture. The plan of the chapel of Trinity college, erected by Dr Ralph Bathurst, was designed by him ; but with some slight modifica tion from the hand of Sir Christopher Wren. Amidst his variety of learned pursuits, and the cares to which he was subjected in the government of his college, Dr Aldrich found leisure also to study and cultivate to a great extent, the science of music, and particularly that branch of it which was more closely connected with his profession and office. Though not more than five or six of his choral productions continue to be performed, except at Oxford, yet he composed nearly forty services and anthems, which are preserved in the third volume of Dr Tudway's collection in the British museum. Beside these, Dr Aldrich enriched our cathedrals with many admirable compositions, by adapting English words, from the psalms or liturgy, to anthems or motets of Palestrina, Caressimi, Vittoria, Graziani, and other Italians, which were originally set to Latin words, for the Roman catholic service. Sir John Hawkins says, that the dean was of such skill in music, that he holds a place among the most eminent of our English church musicians. Among his lighter compositions of this kind are rounds and catches, two of which have been particularly admired. One, " Hark the Bonny Christ-church Bells," has been always remark ed for its pleasing melody and general effect. The other is a smoking catch, full of humour and musical ingenuity. His love of smoking, it seems, was so great as to serve the university for an amusing topic of conversation. The admirable choral discipline Dr Aldrich preserved in his college for upwards of twenty years, is still remembered. He bequeathed to his college, at his decease, an admirable collection of music. Dr Burney says, that having made a catalogue of these musi cal works, he can venture to assert, that, for masses, motets, madrigals, and anthems, of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the collection is the most complete of any that he had an opportunity of consulting. His love of the science, and zeal for its advancement, prompted the iv. 2 u 338 LITERARY SERIES. rj desire to write a ' History of Music ;' but though he collected all the materials he could find, opportunity did not present itself for entering upon their arrangement. They are yet extant in the library of his own college. Dr Aldrich is of some note as a Latin poet. The ' Musie Anglicans' contains some elegant verses by him. Besides his other preferments, Dr Aldrich held the rectory of Wem, in Shropshire ; and in 1702 he was chosen prolocutor ofthe convocation. On the 14th of December, 1710, to the unspeakable grief of the whole university, he died, at his college, in the 63d year of his age. He lived in a state of celibacy; and as he rose in the world he disposed of his income in works of hos pitality and benevolence, and in the encouragement of learning. Not withstanding that modesty and humility for which he was remarkable, and which he exhibited in withholding his name from his numerous publications, he maintained a firm and steady rule in the government of his college. He was bnried, according to his desire, in the cathedral of Oxford, near Bishop Fell. He is always spoken of as having been a man of wit, and as one who, to his great talents and virtues, joined those amiable qualities which rendered him the object of general affec tion, as well as of universal respect and esteem. BORN A. D. 1641. — DIED A. D. 1711. This very learned writer was a native of Ireland. He was born in that country in 1641, but he received his school-education in England. In 1656, we find him holding a fellowship in Trinity college, Dublin ; but he relinquished it in 1666, in order to avoid taking orders, and came the same year to Oxford, where he remained for some time. In 1672, he first appeared as an author, or rather as an editor, in the publication of a posthumous treatise of his tutor John Steam, with a preface from his own pen. The title of this book was ' De Obstina- tione : Opus Posthumum Pietatem Christiano-Stoicum scholastico more Suadens.' Dodwell entitled his own preface ' Prolegomena, Apologetica de usu Dogmatum Philosophicorum,' its object being to vindicate his tutor from the charge of depreciating the value ofthe scrip tures by over-estimating the value of the heathen philosophy. His second publication was ' Two Letters of Advice,' addressed to theologi cal students. To the second edition of this workyin 1681, he added ' A Discourse concerning the Phoenician History of Sanchoniathon,' in which he attempts to prove that Philo-Byblius, was the forger of this pseudo-Phoenician history. Dodwell came over again to England in 1674, and soon after enter ed into the lists of polemical controversy. In 1675, he published ' Some Considerations of present concernment : How far the Romanists may be trusted by princes nf another persuasion.' This book was chiefly levelled against Father Walsh, and the other parties concerned in ' The Irish Remonstrance,' ' and ' Controversial Letters,' two publi- 1 See Kennet'f Register and Chronicle ' Period.] HENRY DODWELL. 339 cations which occasioned a kind of schism among the Irish catholics. The year following he put out other two pieces against the papists ; in one of which he argues against the assumed infallibility of the church of Rome, and in the other discusses various controversial questions betwixt the two churches of England and Rome. Both these dis courses were published in one small 12mo. volume, but were reprinted in 1688, in 4to. with a preface, ' relating to the bishop of Meaux, and other modern complainers of misrepresentation.' In 1679, he publish ed a treatise on * Separation of Churches from Episcopal Government, as practised by the present Non-conformists,' in which he labours to prove that all such separation is schismatical and anti-scriptural ; that separation from episcopal communion renders persons unsecure of their eternal salvation ; that salvation is ordinarily to be expected from par ticipation in the sacraments of baptism and the Lord's supper, which God has appointed as the ordinary means of obtaining the gospel bene fits, not to be obtained merely by hearing the word, and prayer ; that the validity of the sacraments depends on the authority of the persons administering them, these being such whom God has commissioned to act as his ministers, whose acts he will ratify in heaven ; that God is not obliged to bestow spiritual benefits on any who receive the sacra ments from persons not thus authorised, besides their administering them being an usurpation on God's authority. In this book he also discourses on the ' Sin unto Death ;' and the ' Sin against the Holy Ghost.' Richard Baxter answered Dodwell in his ' True and only way of Concord ;' and Dodwell replied. In 1682, he published his very learned ' Dissertations on St Cyprian,' composed at the request of Bishop Fell, as an accompaniment to the bishop's edition of that father. They are chiefly explanatory of ob scure passages. Dodwell published also ' Dissertations on Irenaeus.' In 1688, he was elected Camden professor of history in the university of Oxford, but he lost this chair in 1691, by refusing to take the oath of allegiance to William and Mary. His Camden lectures were print ed at Oxford, in 1692. After his deprivation he removed to Shottes- brooke, where he chiefly spent the remainder of his days in devotion to study and incessant publication. It would swell the present article greatly beyond due limits, were we to give merely the titles of all DodweU's published treatises. The most elaborate of them is his account of the Greek and Roman cycles, printed at Oxford in 1701. All his writings are characterized by prodigious learning, and considerable logical powers ; but some of his notions were singularly absurd, and involved him in much and painful controversy with some of the best men of his age. Dodwell was, as we have seen, a strict episcopalian, and a staunch non-juror besides. In order to exalt the powers and dignity of the priesthood, in that ' One Communion,' which he fondly imagined to be the Peculium of God, and -to which he had joined himself, he endeavoured to prove, with his usual perplexity of learning, that the doctrine of the soul's natural mortality was the true and original scripture doctrine ; and that immortality was only at baptism conferred upon the soul, by the gift of God, through the hands of one set of regularly-ordained clergy. In support of this opinion, he wrote ' An Epistolary Discourse, proving, from the Scriptures and the first Fathers, that the Soul is a Principle '40 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth naturally mortal, but immortalized actually by the pleasure of God, to Punishment, or to Reward, by its Union with the Divine Baptismal Spirit. Wherein is proved, that none have the Power of giving this Divine Immortalizing Spirit, since the Apostles, but only the Bishops' London, 1706, 8vo. At the end of the preface to the reader is a dis'- sertation, to prove ' That Sacerdotal Absolution is necessary for the Remission of Sins, even of those who are truly penitent.' This dis- course being attacked by Chishull, Clarke, Norris, and other persons, our author endeavoured to vindicate himself in the three following pieces: namely, L 'A Preliminary Defence of the Epistolary Dist course, concerning the Distinction between Soul and Spirit: in two parts. 1st, Against the Charge of favouring Impiety. 2d, Against the Charge Of favouring Heresy.' In the former is inserted a digression, proving; that the ' Collection of the Code of the Four Gospels in Trajan's time is no way derogatory to the sufficient Attestation of them.' London, 1707, 8vo. 2. ' The Scripture Account of the Eternal Re wards or Punishments of all that hear of the Gospel, without an Im mortality necessarily resulting from the Nature of the Souls themselves that are concerned in those Rewards or Punishments. Showing parti cularly, 1st, How much of this account was discovered by the best philosophers. 2d, How far the accounts of those philosophers were corrected and improved by the Hellenistical Jews, assisted by the Revelations of the Old Testament. 3d, How far the discoveries fore- mentioned were improved by the Revelations of the gospel. Wherein the testimonies also of S. Irenaeus and Tertullian, are occasionally consi dered.' London, 1 708, Svo. And, 3. ' An Explication of a famous Passage in the Dialogue of S. Justin Martyr with Tryphon, concern- ing the immortality of Human Souls. Being a letter to the learned. author of a book, intituled ' 'h x«{,s So3-s(«t, &c.' With an appendix, consisting of a letter to the Rev. Mr John Norris, of Bemerton ; and an Expostulation relating to the late Insults of Mr Clarke and Mr Chishull.' London, 1708, 8vo. It is scarcely necessary to add that in all those treatises Dodwell evinced greater ingenuity and learning than sound scriptural Views. Dr Clarke handled him very severely ; and Bishop Burnet thus addresses him in one of his letters : " You are a learned man ; and your life has been not only without blemish, but exemplary ; but you do not seem to remember, or enough to consider* the woe our Saviour has denounced against those by whom scandals come ; and, according to the true notion of scandal, I know no man, that has laid more in the way of the little ones, or weaker Christians, than you have done. I do assure you, I would rather wish that I could neither read nor write, than to have read or writ to such pur poses as you have been pursuing now above thirty years. You seem to love novelties and paradoxes, and to employ your learning to sup port them. I do assure you, I have a just value for many valuable things that I know to be in you ; and do heartily lament every thing that is otherwise." Dodwell died in June, 1711. He is buried in the chancel of the Shottesbrooke church. Period.] 341 Soijn Mlols. BORN A. D. 1648. — DIED A. D. 1708. This eminent musical composer was a Nottinghamshire man. He was trained by Hingeston and Christopher Gibbons. In 1685 he was nominated composer to the court, — which, however, was only an hon orary office. In 1687, on the death of Michael Wise, he was appoint ed master of St Paul's choristers ; and upon the death of Purcell, he became organist in Westminster-abbey. After the Revolution, Dr Tillotson, then dean of St Paul's, obtained an annual salary of £40 for both Blow and Purcell, on condition that they should alternately present their majesties with a new anthem on the first Sunday of every month. It appears that Blow had been in the practice of composing anthems while yet a chapel-boy, and that many of his pieces had been honoured with the special approbation of Charles II. Every one knows the fine song, ' Go perjured man.' The origin of this piece is said to have been as follows : Charles greatly admired Carissimi's duet, ' Dite, O cieli,' and turning to young Blow on one oc casion, while it was performing, asked him if he could imitate it. Blow modestly answered he would try, and soon after produced that song which instantly became so popular. He afterwards composed another air to the words ' Go perjured maid,' which is printed in the ' Amphion Anglicus,' but it is inferior to the former. The work we have just men tioned was an imitation of the ' Orpheus Britannicus,' published by Purcell's widow. Dr Blow died in 1708. His finest compositions, perhaps, are the Gloria Patri canon, printed in the first volume of Dr Boyce's collec tion of cathedral music, and the anthems, ' O God, wherefore art thou absent ?' and ' I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude.' 8rtimv JHagntoarins. BORN A. v. 1668. — DIED A.D. 1712. This writer was the descendant of an ancient and respectable family in Shropshire, in which county he was born in 1668. He received the rudiments of his education at the grammar-school of Shrewsbury, where he remained four or five years. At the age of seventeen he was sent to Oxford, where he was placed under the tuition of George Smalridge, afterwards bishop of Bristol. He spent several years at Christ-church college, and then went to his uncle's, Mr Cholmondeley, at Vale-Royal in Cheshire. Mr Cholmondeley was a warm adherent of James the Second's party; and young Maynwaring, imbibing his uncle's senti ments and feelings, drew his pen against the new government in a sa tire, entitled, ' Tarquin and Tullia,' ' which was mainly levelled at Wil liam and Mary. He also wrote a piece entitled, ' The King of Hearts,* 1 State Poems, vol. iii. p. 319. 342 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth in which he ridiculed Lord Delamere's entry into London, on his first coming to town after the Revolution. Tonson supposing this piece to have been written by Dryden, ascribed it to the latter in public; but Dryden immediately disclaimed the authorship. Having come up to town, he was introduced to the acquaintance of the duke of Somerset, the earl of Dorset, and some of the leading whigs, whose company soon effected a change in the young wit's political sen^ timents. It was his intention to have devoted himself to the study of law, but the death of his father put him in possession of a pretty good yearly income, and enabled him to follow pursuits more congenial to his tastes. After the peace of Ryswick, he went to Paris, and spent some time amongst the scholars of that country. He was fortunate enough to make the acquaintance of Boileau and La Fontaine during this visit. After his return from France, he was appointed a commissioner of customs, in which office he conducted himself with great integrity ; so much so, that in the beginning of Anne's reign, Godolphin conferred on him the auditorship of imposts, a situation worth £2000 per annum. In the parliament of 1705 Mr Maynwaring was returned for the town of Preston in Lancashire. He died in 1712. He was the author of numerous political pamphlets, and of several pieces in the ' Tatler.' His life and posthumous works were published in 1715 by Oldmixon, with a dedication to Sir Robert Walpole, of whose party Maynwaring had been a firm adherent in the latter years of his life. Sosjma Sarius* BORN A.D. 1654. — DIED A.D. 1712. This celebrated Grecian was born in London, and educated at Christ's hospital and Cambridge. He was chosen a fellow of Emanuel college in 1678, and in 1686 took the degree of B. D. His life was entirely that of a scholar, and marked by few incidents except the suc cessive appearance of his numerous works. His first publication con sisted of some Latin and English poems, which he gave to the world at the early age of fifteen. His edition of Euripides was published in 1694, and the next year he was chosen Greek professor at Cambridge. He died in 1712. Barnes was an enthusiastic but not an accomplished scholar. His learning was accurate and extensive, but of a vastly inferior order to that of his contemporary Bentley, who used to say that Joshua Barnes understood as much Greek as a Greek cobbler. On the publication of his edition of Homer, Dr Bentley took offence at some remarks in Barnes's preface, and in a letter to Dr Davies, wrote as follows : — " After you left me this morning, I borrowed of Dr Sike Mr Barnes's new edition of Homer, where I was told that I should find myself abused. I read over his dedications and prefaces, and there I find very opprobrious words against enemies in general, and one homo. inimicus in particular, which I cannot apply to myself, not being con cerned in the accusation. But if Mr Barnes has, or does declare in company, that he means me by those expressions, I assure him I shall Period] WILLIAM CAVE. 843 not put up such an affront, and an injury too, since I was one of his first subscribers, and an useful director to him, if he had followed good advice. He struts and swaggers like a Suffenus, and challenges that same enemy to come aperte, and show him any fault. If he mean me, I have but dipped yet into his notes, and yet I find every where just occasion of censure." The Doctor then points out some glaring mis takes of Barnes's, and of one of them says: " A piece of ignorance for which he deserves to be turned out of the chair, and for which, and many others like it, si magis me irritaverit, I, as his principal elector and governor, may call him to account." He adds, at the close of the letter : " If it be true that he gives out that he means me by those vil lainous characters, I shall teach him better manners towards his elector. For though I shall not honour him so much as to enter the lists against him myself, yet in one week's time, I can send a hundred such remarks as these to his good friend Will Baxter, (whom I have known these twenty years,) who, before the parliament sits, shall pay him home for his Anacreon. But if it be otherwise, that he did not describe me un der those general reproaches, a small satisfaction shall content me ; which I leave you to be judge of; for I would not, without the utmost provo cation, hurt the sale of his book, upon which he professes to have laid out his whole fortunes." Barnes's edition of Homer involved him in considerable difficulties ; and his circumstances, in consequence of it, appear to have been so greatly embarrassed, that he wrote a sup plicatory letter to Robert Harley, earl of Oxford, stating his distresses, and requesting that he might have a little prebend, or some sufficient anchor to lay hold on. There is subjoined to the first edition of his Anacreon (Cambridge, 1705,) a complete catalogue of Dr Barnes's works, actual or projected. 2Htlltam Cab*. BORN A. D. 1637. DIED A. D. 1713. This learned and laborious writer was son of the rector of Pickwell in Leicestershire, a man of considerable erudition. Young Cave was educated at St John's college, Cambridge, where he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1656, and proceeded M.A. in 1660. In 1662 he was presented to the vicarage of Islington in Middlesex ; and not long after he obtained the dignity of chaplain in ordinary to Charles II. In 1672 he took the degree of D. D., to which he was also ad mitted at Oxford. In September, 1679, he was collated by the arch bishop of Canterbury, to the rectory of All-Hallows the Great, in Thames-street, London ; and, in 1681, his merits as a man of letters obtained for him a canonry at Windsor. Wood says that at this time he was likewise presented with the rectorship of Haseley in Oxford shire ; but this must be a mistake, for that rectory is attached to the deanery of Windsor. On the 19th of November, 1690, we find him admitted to the vicarage of Isleworth in Middlesex, after having re signed most of his other preferments. Perhaps this latter place afforded him more leisure and retirement, and allowed him to devote himself to his fayourite studies. His death took place on the 4th of August, 1713. 344 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth He was buried in the church of Islington, where a monument is placed to his memory. Cave's works are very numerous ; he lived the Ufe of a most labori- ous student, and the greater part of his writings have been published. His first publication was entitled, ' Primitive Christianity, or the Re ligion of the Ancient Christians in the first ages of the Gospel.' This work was first published in London in 1672, and has passed through many editions since. In 1674 he published, ' Tabulae Ecclesiastics, or Tables of the Ecclesiastical writers,' which was, two years after, re printed on the continent. His ' Antiquitates Apostolicse,' followed next. This work was designed as a continuation of Jeremy Taylor's ' Antiquitates Christiana-.' This was followed by his ' Apostolici, or History of the Lives, Acts, Deaths, and Martyrdoms of those who were contemporaries with, or immediately succeeded, the Apostle&'i Of which again, the ' Ecclesiastici,' being the history of the fathers of the 4th century, may be regarded as a continuation. Of the ' Scrip- torum Ecclesiasticorum Historia Literaria,' the first part appeared in 1688, and the second ten years afterwards. This latter work is that on which Cave's fame as a contributor to ecclesiastical literature mainly rests. During the last twelve years of his life, Cave repeatedly re vised and retouched this performance. It was reprinted at Geneva in 1705 and 1720 ; but the best edition is that printed at the Clarendon press, in two folio volumes, 1740-43. It contains the author's last corrections and additions, with some matter by the editor, Dr Water- land. Cave is somewhat lightly spoken of by Jortin : but there can be no doubt that he was a laborious, accurate, and skilful scholar. €ooptt, CfjtrtJ €atl ot i&I)afl*sfeurg. BORN a. D. 1671. — DIED A. D. 1713. This nobleman was grandson to the famous statesman of the same name who first held the earldom of Shaftesbury, and was born at Exeter-house, the town-residence of his grandfather, on the 26th of February, 1671. His father was, in all probability, a person of very insignificant character; but it fortunately happened that the great founder of the family conceived an attachment for his grandson while yet in his infancy, and took upon himself the charge of superintending his education. John Locke, the philosopher, who, it will be remem bered, was a resident in the house of the earl of Shaftesbury, had also some share in directing his studies. A rather extraordinary plan was devised for introducing him to a knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages. A lady of the name of Birch, the daughter of a school master in Oxfordshire or Berkshire, was so thoroughly versed in the classic tongues of antiquity, as to be able to speak either of them with the greatest fluency and correctness. This lady — whose name it ought to be the pleasure of every biographer to record — was selected as the instructress if this young favourite of fortune ; and such was her skill in imparting knowledge, that, at the age of eleven or twelve, her pupil might fairly be called an accomplished scholar. At this age he was Period.] COOPER, THIRD EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 345 sent by his grandfather to a private school, where he remained some little time. He early, however, lost the advantage of being superin tended by the acute eye and powerful mind of the first earl, who was compelled, by the troublous nature of the times, to quit England in the latter part of 1682, and who expired at Amsterdam, in January, 1683. In this year he was removed to Winchester school. It is a curious instance of the depth and rancour of party-spirit in those days, that our young philosopher was compelled to quit this seminary by the persecution of his school-fellows on account of his descent, who had thus early imbibed from their thick-headed, fox-hunting fathers, a hatred to the name of Shaftesbury. In 1686 be set out to make the round of the continent, and, during his journey, he seems to have been! animated by a laudable desire to enrich himself with every ac complishment which could adorn a scholar or a gentleman. A con siderable part of the time was spent in Italy, where he acquired an accurate knowledge of painting and the fine arts. In 1689 he returned to England, where he might almost immediately have obtained a seat in parliament, had he not rather chosen to devote himself for five years to an earnest prosecution of studies on several important questions which had engaged his attention. At the end of this period he entered the house of commons as member for Poole in Dorsetshire. His conduct as a politician was worthy of a disciple of Locke. He joined himself firmly to the only true patriots of that pe riod, the whig supporters of King William's government ; and, on all occasions, advocated measures of liberal and enlightened policy, on grounds becoming a philosophic statesman. As a speaker, he produced little impression on the house, nor will those who have perused his writings be surprised that a style so abstract, ornate, and affected, as that in which he indulged, should fail to attract attention in an assem bly of men convened to transact business. The only occasion on which he signalized himself by oratory, was in his maiden speech, when the following most exquisite and beautiful turn of argument is ascribed to him. A bill for regulating trials, in cases of high treason, was brought into parliament, by one clause of which counsel was allowed to pris oners. This part of the bill appeared to Lord Ashley of so much im portance, that he prepared a speech in its behalf; but, on standing up to pronounce it, he was so agitated as to forget every word of what he had prepared, and was consequently unable to proceed. The house, with the kindly feeling which it usually manifests on these occasions, gave him time to recover himself, and thus encouraged him to pro ceed. Lord Ashley turned to the speaker and addressed him as fol lows: — " If I, Sir, who rise only to give my opinion on the bill now pending, without having any personal or individual interest at stake, am so confoundad, that I am unable to express the least of what I proposed to say : what must the condition of that man be, who, with out any assistance, is pleading for his life, and under apprehensions of being deprived of it ?" The readiness and felicity of this turn of thought are such as almost to create a suspicion that the whole was a premeditated scene. The labours of a senator, a century and a half since, were light compared to those of the present day ; but, such as they were, Lord Ashley found his health declining under them, and, in consequence, iv. 2 x 346 LITF.RAUY SERIES. ro (OUTH retired from public life.' His mind now reverted to the studies and lit erary pursuits; in which his early years had been spent,' and, embarkim?" for Holland in 1698, he spent twelve months in the Society of Bavle Le Clerc, and other. eminent men, to whom, however, he introduced himself, not as an English nobleman of influence and fortune > but an undistinguished student of physios.- A little before his return; ¦ he resolved to develope -his real name andrank, which gave .rise to a rather amusing scene. He contrived to have Bayle invited to dinner by a friend, for.the purpose of meeting Lord Ashley. It so chanced that onthe day appointed,^ Bayle called on his friend, the student! of phy. sics,' andi when pressed on rising to take leave to prolong his visit, re plied that he could not, as he' Was engaged to meet Lord Ashley, and musfc be punctual. Of course their interview occasioned considerable mirth. A regular correspondence was subsequently maintained be- tween them until the period of Bayle's death. . ¦ By the decease of his father in 1699, 'Lord Ashley became earM Shaftesbury, but the attainment of this hereditary right of legislating, awakened in him no desire to embark again on the stormy sea of poli tics.' ¦¦ It was not till he was summoned by his virtuous and enlighten"- ed friendi Lord Somers, to assist the whig party in the debates and divisions on the partition treaty in 1701, that he took his seat. He continued steadily to support the principles and government of the Revolution,- and upon the' election of a new house of commons, he exerted himself so actively to procure' returns- favourable to his' party, that the' king' did him the honour of saying he had turned the scale. He was offered the situation of secretary of state, but his health was siuch as to forbid his accepting it. In -the ensuing reign, finding him self slighted 'by the court, he retired once again from public life, and devoted himself, 'with the same assiduity which had distinguished his early days, to literary avocations. -In 1703, he paid another -visit to Holland. In 1708, he first appeared as an author in a tractate, entitled ' A- Letter concerning Enthusiasm,' which was addressed to Lord Somers, and was written for the purpose of showing the folly of trying to prevent* the spread of opinions by persecution,' — a plan which some persons had proposed, in order to pat a stop to the disturbances creat ed about 'that' time by some silly fanatics, who received the name of French prophets. • In 1709, appeared the most fa'moas, though not the best of Iris productions, ' The Moralists, a Philosophical Rhapsody, being'a recital of -certain conversations on natural and moral subjects? In the 'same year he married a lady of the name of Ewer, a daughter of Thomas Ewer, :EstJ.y of Lee, in Hertfordshire. Unless we are to allow to great moralists and 'philosophers, an exemption from the right dis- oharge'of social 'Obligations, we shall find something scarcely consistent with ordinary views of duty irr'the sentiments' with which Shaftesbury entered o« the state of matrimony. - In a letter to his- friend Robert, afterwards Lord- Viscount Molesworth, written shortly after his marriage, he says : " Were I to talk of marriage, and forced to speak to my mind plainly, and without the help of humour or raillery, I should doubtless offend the most part of sober married people, and the ladies chiefly. For J should, in reality, think I did wonders in extolling the happiness of my new state, and the merits of my wife in particular, by saying ' that I verily thought myself as happy a man now as ever.' And is Peiuod.] COOPER, THIRD EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 347 not that subject enough for joy? What would a man of sense wish more ? For my own part, if I find any sincere joy, it is because I pro mised myself no other than the satisfaction of my friends,, who. thought my family worth preserving, and myself worth nursing in; an indifferent crazy state, to which a wife,; (if a good .one,) is a great ihelp. Such a one I have found, and if, by her help; or care, I can regain: a tolerable share of health, you may be sure it will be employed as you desire, since my marriage was but a means to that end;,". .We give this ex tract, though rather a long one, for the sake ofthe index it gives to Lord Shaftesbury's true < character. In 171Q, he published - his ' Soliloquy, or Auvice to an Author.' His health, in spite of his. wifefs aursing, was now so fast declining, that he resolved to itry a warmer climate; as the only means of saving his life. In 1711, he reached Naples, where he took up his residence. His time was chiefly employ ed in drawing up a corrected and elegant edition of the f.Oharacteris'- tics,' which had already been printed, though not in a manner satisfac tory to him. Many. of the plates for this new edition, which did not appear however till after his death,. were invented, and their designing carefully superintended by himself; and so anxious was ihe to hand down this work, or rather this collection of his works, in a perfect states, that in spite of his shattered health,; he went through the labour of cor recting the press with his own bands. He had formed several other literary projects, but the advance of disease rendered them abortive. The air of Italy could minister no balm to his diseased frame, and after lingering about a year and a half, he expired on the fourth of February, 1713, in the forty-second year ofhis age.' After his death two collec tions ofhis letters were published, one in 1716, entitled 'Letters writ ten by a noble lord to a young, man at the university,' and another in 1721, under the name of. ' Letters from the Right Honourable the late earl of Shaftesbury, to Robert Molesworth, Esq;' -Bothi these publications were contrary to the wishes of the family, and both were edited by Toland; who seems to have had- a remarkable anxiety to spread abroad Shaftesbury's opinions ; forduring the author's lifetime, he had published a surreptitious . edition of the 'Inquiry concerning Virtue.' The earl left behind him one son, of whom little is known except that he continued the family.: It seems,i at first sight,' a rather remarkable circumstance, that, in the long list of our hereditary peers, there should be so few who have dis tinguished themselves by any 'strong grasp or vigour of intellect > En titled by their birth to cherish lofty designs, — having every field of literature open to their investigation without -any of the obstacles which obstruct the vision of ordinary students- — enabled to obtain, the instructions of the most eminent men of their age,---oftentimes animated to exertions by the examples of illustrious ancestry;'— and receiving, at their entrance upon life, and before they apply themselves to the pur suit" of any-enterprise, a thousand, encouragements and marks of dis tinction, which nameless men obtain only as the reward of arduous struggles, it might be expected that they would transcend all others in talents, not less than in rank. Yet the very reverse is the fact. Near ly all the great names which adorn the peerage are those of men who have cleared, the way to it by their own energies. .. Who does not re member how the earldom of Shaftesbury sank into insignificance on its 348 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth first transmission to that " unfeathered, two-legged thing, a son?" or how the title of Chatham has lost all its lustre in the hands of its pre sent possessor ? Such instances almost tempt a belief in Sir Thomas Brown's opinion, that Nature providently denies to men the capability of uniting many advantages ; or, in other words, that she permits, in the minds of those who are nobly born, of some inherent defect, which pre vents their attaining the force and manhood of her common creations. " I confess," says Brown, "'tis the common fate of men of singular gifts of mind to be destitute of those of fortune ; which doth not any way deject the spirit of wiser judgments, who thoroughly understand the justice of the proceeding, and, being enriched with higher dona tives, cast a more careless eye on these vulgar parts of felicity. It is. a most unjust ambition to desire to engross the mercies ofthe Almighty," But the paradox may be solved without awarding to nature any mys terious, and, indeed, unnecessary powers. The very elevation of their condition enervates their minds. Master-spirits are formed, not on the lap of ease or amid the enticements of luxury, but in storms and dangers. It is in struggles for distinction, — in the fiery onset for fame and fortune, — that souls are cast in the most heroic mould, and at tuned to the noblest temper. We are not at all disposed to make an exception from these remarks in favour of the third earl of Shaftesbury. He possessed a creditable zeal for study, and amassed no small share of learning in the long years which he devoted to its cultivation. With the writings of antiquity, and especially with the works of Plato, he had made himself conversant, — so conversant indeed that he forgot the clearer lights which had since dawned on mankind. He devoted much of his time to contem plation on abstract principles, and on the foundation of moral codes, and in circumstances the most favpurable that could be devised. Yet, after all, the result has been of trifling value compared with the toil bestowed upon it. No well-balanced system of philosophy is explain ed, nor any great truth advanced, and illustrated in all its bearings. Occasionally hints of value are thrown out, and a solitary position is aptly enforced, but he never seems to have had clearly before his mind a definite and organized scheme of truths, bearing upon one another in various relations, and harmonized to support an important principle. The estimate of his writings given by Sir James Macintosh, in the ' Dissertation' which he prefixed to the recent edition of the ' Ency clopaedia Britannica,' is valuable, though tainted by the lavishness of praise to wbich that eminent writer is unfortunately prone. Speaking of the ' Inquiry concerning Virtue,' Sir James says, " The point in which it becomes especially pertinent to the subject of this Disserta tion is, that it contains more intimations of an original and important nature on the theory of ethics, than perhaps any preceding work of modern times. 1 It is true that they are often but intimations, cursory and appearing almost to be casual ; so that many of them have 1 I am not 1* -ithout suspicion that I have overlooked the claims of Dr Henry More, who, notwithstanding some uncouthness of language, seems to have given the nrst in timations of a distinct moral faculty, which he calls " the Boniform faculty ;" a phrase against which an outcry would now be raised as German. Happiness, according to him, consists in a constant satisfaction, it ryxyaieiitu tus ¦4"'X>*, (Enchiridion H-UU- cum, lib. i. cap. iii.) Pei-.iod.] cooper, THIRD EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 349 escaped the notice of most readers, and even writers on these subjects. That the consequences of some of them are even yet not unfolded, must be owned to be a proof that they are inadequately stated ; and may -be regarded as a presumption that the author did not closely examine the bearing of his own positions. Among the most important of these suggestions is, the existence of dispositions in man by which he takes pleasure in the well-being of others, without any farther view ; a doctrine however to all the consequences of which he has not been faithful in his other writings. Another is, that goodness consists in the prevalence of love for a system, of which we are a part, over the pas sions pointing to our individual welfare ; a proposition which somewhat confounds the motives of right acts with their tendency, and seems to favour the melting of all particular affections into general benevolence, because the tendency of these affections is to general good. The next, and certainly the most orginal, as well as important, is that there are certain affections of the mind, which, being contemplated by the mind itself through what he calls a reflex sense, become the objects of love or the contrary, according to their nature. So approved and loved, they constitute virtue or merit, as distinguished from mere goodness, of which there are traces in animals who do not appear to reflect on the state of their own minds, and who seem, therefore, destitute of what he elsewhere calls a moral sense. These statements are, it is true, far too short and vague. He nowhere inquires into the origin of the reflex sense. What is a much more material defect, he makes no attempt to ascertain in what state of mind it consists. We discover only by implication, and by this use of the term sense, that he searches for the foundation of moral sentiments, not in mere reason — where Cud- worth and Clarke had vainly sought for it — but in the heart, whence the main branch of them assuredly flows. It should never be forgotten that we owe to these hints, the reception into ethical theory of a moral sense ; which, whatever may be thought of its origin, or in whatever words it may be described, must always retain its place in such theory as a main principle of our moral nature." The style of Lord Shaftesbury has been made the subject of unbound ed admiration, — far higher indeed than its merits demand. The ' En quiry concerning Virtue,' which is certainly the ablest of his perfor mances, is written with much clearness and simplicity, and there are scattered throughout the ' Characteristics,' passages of considerable beauty, but, in the main, the style of his writings is unphilosophical. With the solitary exception we have mentioned, he never pursues an argument closely, or brings the different parts of his subject into lucid order. Added to this is an affectation which sometimes leads him into an offensive pleasantry, and at others into a frigid dulness. Blair says of him — and with greater justness of criticism than he usually displays — " His lordship can express nothing with simplicity. He seems to have considered it as vulgar, and beneath the dignity of a man of quality, to speak like other men. Hence he is ever in buskins ; full of circumlo cutions and artificial elegance. In every sentence, we see the marks of labour and art ; nothing of that ease which expresses a sentiment com ing natural and warm from the heart. Of figures and ornament of every kind he is exceedingly fond, — sometimes happy in them ; but his fondness for them is too visible ; and having once laid hold of some 350 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth metaphor or allusion that pleases him, he knows not how to part with it." It may perhaps be expected that we should take some > extended notice of Shaftesbury's sentiments on the subject of religion, but we apprehend it would serve no beneficial purpose. It . is useless to con tend, as some have done, that he was not a sceptic; for numerous pas sages in the ' Characteristics,' might readily be pointed out, containing idle and discreditable reflections on Christianity, in which no one could have indulged who felt any respect for its. authority and doctrines^ Sir James Macintosh conjectures that this .sceptical" tendency may have originated in disgust at the bigotted churchmen who opposed the government of King William ; and the conjecture is strengthened by the fact, that in some ofhis latest productions, he speaks of Christianity 'in respectful terms. Perhaps we may assign, as another and a still more efficient cause, that affectation of originality and of freedom from vub. gar prejudice, which has led so many astray.. Lord Shaftesbury's works have been several times reprinted in three volumes, 8yo< . BORN a. D. 1650 DIED A. D. 1714. ' John Radcliffe,. an English physician, was born at Wake field, in Yorkshire, in the year 1650. Having received the rudiments of education in a school at. Wakefield, he was sent at the age of fifteen to. University college, Oxford. In 4669, he became bachelor in arts, and senior scholar of his college, when he removed to Lincoln college where he was presented with a fellowship. He now chose the. profession of medicine, and prosecuted his studies, with great diligence. In 1672, he became master of arts. His studies were by no means general, as he regarded with contempt most of the treatises on medicine, with, the ex ception of tliose of Willis. His, library, as he ealledit, in answer to a question of Dr Bathurst,. consisted of a few phialsy a skeleton, and an herbal. In 1675, he took his first idegree in medicine, and soon after wards commenced the practice of his profession in Oxford. His prac tice was bold and decisive, and so successful, that bis reputation in creased rapidly. He drew upon himself the abuse of apothecaries, who found, that his method of treatment put less money into their pockets, and of his brethren in medicine, who found that he made great inroads upon their practice. In replying to these, Radcliffe did not exhibit a greater degree of forbearance than he. was wont to do in after life, but abused them without mercy.!, He was a. follower of Sydenham,, espe cially in his most excellent method of treating smallpox.m.In conse quence of a quarrel with Dr Marshall,, rector of Lincoln icqllege, he was obliged to resign his fellowship in 1677, and leave the college. He still resided in. Oxford, and continued to practise; and in 1682, receiv ed the degree of M.D. He went to London in 1684,, and settled in Bow-street, Co vent-garden, where his practice increased with a most unusual rapidity. It is. said that he owed his rapid advancement not less to his agreeable conversation than to his professional skill. In 1686, he became physician to the princess £nne of Denmark. At the 1'euiod.] JOHN RADCLIFFE. 351 Revolution, when this princess retired to Nottingham, being then preg nant of the duke of Gloucester, Radcliffe was requested to attend her ; but, being aware of the uncertain1 state of affairs, he thought it prudent to refuse, which he did urider pretext of the extent of his engagements. When William came. to the throne, Radcliffe was 'consulted along with the celebrated Bidloo, whom the king brought over with him as chief physician. His success Was so universally acknowledged that the king offered to make hiin one ofhis physicians, which, however, he declined from motives of policy. His success in practice did not, however, suf fer from this circumstance, for he continued to be consulted On all -important occasions by the king and the first nobility. In 1694, he attended the queen, Who had smallpox; Her death was, by some, attributed to carelessness and unskilfulness on the part of Radcliffe. The freedoms which he used with his patients were sometimes resented. Thus we find him dismissed from the service of the Princess Anne of Denmark for refusing to visit her, swearing that " her highness's dis temper was nothing but the vapours, and that she was in as good a state of health as any woman breathing, could she but believe it." After this he continued in great favour with the'- king, which, however, he lost in 1699, by the very uncourtly reply he made to his majesty, who on his return from Holland showed him hisswollen legs; "Why, truly," said Radcliffe, "I would not have your majesty's two legs for your three kingdoms." He was no longer employed at court, notwith standing, the exertions made in his favour by the earl of Albemarle. When Queen Anne came to the throne, her dislike to Radcliffe remain ed unabated, so that he was not reinstated in his post of chief physician ; but the confidence in his abilities remained unshaken, and he was often consulted on important1 occasions. In 1703, he was in considerable danger from a pleurisy, so much so that he made his will. He recover ed; however, and continued the practice of his profession with unabated vigour. In 1713, he was elected member of parliament for Bucking ham. Jn 1714, he was called to attend the last illness of Queen Anne. Respecting his 'conduct on that occasion it is difficult to form an opin ion, the accounts of it differ so much. From aletter of his own it appears that a fit of the goht confined him at the time, and that besides; the, call, he received neither came directly from the queen, nor from any person properly entitled to take upon him to' do so without her command.- His' confidence in Dr Mead was also so great, that he con sidered, his personal attendance' Unnecessary. Be the fact as it may, nothing is more certain than that Radcliffe was much blamed- by the public,' and thought himself in danger of being assassinated. A motion was. even made in1 the 'house' of 'commons, that he should be Called to this place to answer for not attending on her majesty. On the 3d November, 1714, Radcliffe died in Carshalton ; he lay in state for some time, and was buried' in St Mary's church, Oxford. The character and talents of Dr Radcliffe have been very differently described. That he'was eccentric, sometimes ill-matured, foiid of money and of his bottle, cannot be denied. But whatever blame is cast upon him beyond this, must be regarded with some degree of suspicion, when we consider how many enemies his eccentricities, conjoined with his unparalleled success, must have made for him among his profes- 352 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth sional brethren. We find him described by some as a bold empiric, while Dr Mead says, that " he was deservedly at the head of his pro fession, on account of his great medical penetration and experience." He has left no writings, so that our proof of his talents must always re main defective. Though of a grasping disposition in acquiring wealth, he was most liberal in bestowing it. He gave many sums of money to the society for propagating the gospel, to the poor non-juring clergy, and to the episcopal clergy in Scotland. But his greatest liberality was bestowed upon the university of Oxford. From the funds left at his death, the Radcliffe library, an infirmary and observatory, besides many otlier buildings, were erected there. The hospital of St Bar tholomew receives £600 a year from his estates ; £250 are annually expended on the support of the Radcliffe library ; and an estate in Yorkshire is devoted to the support of two travelling fellows of Uni versity college. Other funds remain at the disposal of trustees, to be applied to such charitable purposes as they think fit. TOlltam WL&t\>tt\t&. BORN A.D. 1640. DIED A.D. 1715. William Wycherley, the author of several very successful dra mas, was the elder son of Daniel Wycherley of Cleve, in Shropshire. A little before the restoration of Charles IL, he became a gentleman commoner of Queen's college, Oxford ; but he left the university with out having matriculated. It appears that before entering on any course of studies in England young Wycherley had resided some years in France, where he lived in the best society, and was much noticed by Madame de Montausier. Hence, perhaps, the tone of persiflage and gallantry that runs throughout his writings. After leaving Oxford, he entered himself of the Middle Temple ; but the study of law was far too dry a pursuit for the gay young English man, who, in addition to the natural vivacity and buoyancy of his spi rits, had had his habits and tastes formed in the court of France. He soon abandoned the study of jurisprudence for dalliance with the gayer muses, and, betwixt the years 1672 and 1712, published several com edies and poems in which the dissolute tone of morals which then per vaded the upper ranks of society was but too successfully imitated. The publication of his first play, ' Love in a Wood,' introduced him at once to the special favour of the court, and particularly to the duch ess of Cleveland. Spence, in his gossipping garrulous book,1 gives an account of our poet's first introduction to the duchess, which, as suffi ciently characteristic ofthe times, we shall here insert. " Wycherley," says he, " was a very handsome man. His acquaintance with the famous duchess of Cleveland commenced oddly enough. One day as he passed that duchess's coach in the ring, she leaned out of the window, and cried out loud enough to be heard distinctly by him, ' Sir, you're a rascal ! you're a villain !' Wycherley from that instant entertained hopes. He did not fail waiting on her the next morning ; and, with a ' Anecdotes, Observations, &c. by the Rev. J. Spence. London, 18S0. Period.] WILLIAM WYCHERLEY. 353 very melancholy tone, begged to know how it was possible for him to have so much disobliged her grace. They were very good friends from that time : yet, after all," adds Spence, " what did he get by her ?" He was fortunate enough to enjoy pretty substantial patronage in still higher quarters. The duke of" Buckingham gave him two or three military commissions under him; and Charles himself occasionally pre-^ sented him with sums of money. Spence says, the king " gave him now and then a hundred pounds, — not often." But there is abundant evidence that Wycherley shared as much ofthe royal favour as he could reasonably expect, so long as the capricious monarch chose to pay him any attentions at all. His marriage with Lady Drogheda, how ever, threw him into disgrace at court for a. time, and seems to have cast a continual shade over the remainder of his fortunes. Spence, on the authority of old Dennis, says : " Just before the time of his court ship, he was designed for governor to the late duke of Richmond, and was to have been allowed £1500 a-year from the government. His absence from court, in the progress of this amour, and his being yet more absent after his marriage, (for Lady Drogheda was very jealous of him,) disgusted his friends there so much, that he lost all his inter est with them. His lady died ; he got but little by her ; and his mis fortunes were such that he was thrown into the Fleet, and lay there seven years." Wycherley died in 1715. " He died a Romanist, and has owned that religion in my hearing," says Spence. On this subject, a reviewer judiciously remarks : — " It is rather remarkable that we have three instances together of poets who were Roman Catholics at this period, — Garth, Wycherley, and Pope himself. The reason assigned for Garth's predilection for this faith, viz. ' the greater efficacy which it gives to the sacraments,' does not appear to be very obvious or sa tisfactory. Popery is, in its essence, and by its very constitution, a religion of outward form and ceremony, full of sound and show, re commending itself by the charm of music, the solemnity of pictures, the pomp of dress, the« magnificence of buildings, by the dread of power, and the allurements of pleasure. It strikes upon the senses studiously, and in every way; it appeals to the imagination; it enthrals the passions; it infects by sympathy ; has age, has authority, has num bers on its side, and exacts implicit faith in its inscrutable mysteries and its gaudy symbols : — it is, in a word, the religion of fancy, as pro testantism is the religion of philosophy, and of faith chastised by a more sober reason. It is not astonishing, therefore, that at a period when the nation and the government had been so lately distracted by the contest between the old and the new religion, poets were found to wayer between the two, or were often led away by that which flattered their love of the marvellous and the splendid. Any of these reasons, we think, is more likely than ' the greater efficacy given to the sacra ments' in that communion, to explain why so many poets, without much religion, as Garth, Wycherley, Pope, Dryden, Crashaw, should be fascinated by the glittering bait of popery, and lull their more serious feelings asleep in the torpor of its harlot embraces. A minute, but voluminous critic of our time, has laboured hard to show, that to this list should be added the name of Massinger. But the proofs adduced in support of this conjecture are extremely inconclusive. Among others, the wrjter insists on the profusion of crucifixes, glories, angelic iv. 2y 354 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth visions, garlands of roses, and clouds of incense scattered through the ' Virgin Martyr' as evidence of the theological sentiments meant to be inculcated by this play ; when the least reflection might have taught him that they proved nothing but his author's poetical conception of the character and costume of his subject. A writer might, with the same sinister shrewdness, be suspected of heathenism for talking of Flora and Ceres, in a poem on the seasons ; and what are produced as the exclusive badges of catholic bigotry, are nothing but the adventi tious ornaments and external emblems, — the gross and sensible lan guage, — in a word, the poetry of Christianity in general. What, in deed, shows the frivolousness of the whole inference is, that Decker, who is asserted by our critic to have contributed some of the most pas sionate and fantastic of these devotional scenes, is not even accused of a leaning to popery." &o$tt Cctes. BORN A D. 1682. — DIED a. D. 1716. This mathematician, whose life was too short for the fulfilment of its early promise, was the son of the Rev. Robert Cotes, rector of Bur- bage in Leicestershire. He was born on the 10th of July, 1682, and received his first education at Leicester school. When about twelve years of age he began to evince a decided predilection and capacity for mathematics and the related branches of natural philosophy, and, with the view of pursuing this line of study, was boarded for a while with his uncle, the Rev. John Smith, one of the best mathematicians of his day. He continued with him for some time, after which' he was sent to St Paul's school, where he made considerable proficiency in classical studies, but still devoted a portion of his attention to the mathematical and metaphysical sciences. In 1699 he was entered of Trinity college, Cambridge, of which he was chosen a fellow in due course of time. His scientific acquirements obtained for him the appointment of Plu- mian professor of astronomy and experimental philosophy, upon the first election to that new foundation. He filled this office with much credit to himself until his death, on the 5th of June, 1716. Cotes was a mathematician of first rate talents and high promise. He edited the second edition of Sir Isaac Newton's Principles of Nat ural Philosophy, to which he attached an admirable preface. This, with a description of the great meteor that was seen in some parts of England on the 6th of March, 1715, and which was inserted in the Philosophical transactions, are the only writings he published; but he left behind him several valuable tracts on subjects connected with his chair, which were given to the world by his successor and kinsman, Dr Robert Smith. The following anecdote evinces the high and general esteem in which this young mathematician was regarded by his contemporaries. Mr Whiston was one ofthe electors to the Plumian professorship on its first institution. Besides Mr Cotes, there was another candidate who had been a scholar of Dr Harris's. As Mr Whiston was the only professor of mathematics who was directly concerned in the choice, the rest of PmioD.] THOMAS PARNELL. 35,5 the electors naturally paid a great regard to his judgment. t At the time of election, Mr Whiston said that he thought himself to be not much inferior to the other candidate's master, Dr Harris ; but he con fessed that he was but a child to Mr Cotes. The votes were unanimous for Mr Cotes ; and it should be remembered that he was then only in the twenty-fourth year of his age. In 1707 Mr Whiston and Mr Cotes united together in giving a course of philosophical experiments at Cambridge. Among other parts of the undertaking, certain hydro static and pneumatic lectures were composed ; they were in number twenty-four, of which twelve were written by Mr Cotes, and twelve by Mr Whiston. But Mr Whiston esteemed his own lectures to be so far inferior to those of Mr Cotes, that he could never prevail upon himself to reyise and improve them for publication. ©Tjomas Darnell* BORN A.D. 1679 DIED A.D. 1718 Thomas Parnell, of whose poetical compositions, ' The Hermit' at least has been deservedly popular, was the descendant of an ancient family which had been settled for some centuries at Congleton, a mar ket-town in Cheshire, until about the year 1660, the period of the Restoration, when his father, Thomas Parnell, who had been of the commonwealth party, went to Ireland. Here he purchased another estate, which, with that in Cheshire, descended to our author, who was born in Dublin in the year 1679. In this city, too, at a late date, John, his brother, was born, who became judge of the court of king's bench in Ireland, and died in 1722, leaving John Parnell the first ba ronet ofthe family, who died in 1782. Thomas, the subject of our memoir, was educated at the grammar- school of Dr Jones of Dublin, under whose management he is said to have early distinguished himself by his surprising powers of memory. The following anecdote is related of him in after life : — Before ' The Rape of the Lock' was finished, Pope was reading some parts of it to Swift, who listened attentively, while Parnell went in and out of the room, apparently taking no notice of it : he, however, kept in mind a tolerably exact description of the toilet, which he translated into La tin verse, and on the day following, when Pope was again reading to some friends what he had written of the poem, our author insisted that part of the description was taken from an old monkish manuscript, and proceeded to support his assertion by reciting his translation. In 1692, at the age of thirteen, he was admitted into the college of Dublin, and in 1700 he took the degree of Master of Arts, and was ordained a deacon by the bishop of Derry, with a dispensation, he be ing under the canonical age. In 1703 he was ordained a priest, and, in 1705, the archdeaconry of Clogher was conferred upon him by the bishop, Dr Ashe. About this time he married Miss Anne Minchin, a lady of high intellectual endowments. Until towards the close of Queen Anne's reign, Parnell had been considered as belonging to the liberal party ; but, on their ejection from office at this period, he came round, and was, we are informed, " received by the new ministry as a 356 LITERARY series. • [Sixth valuable reinforcement. When the earl of Oxford was told that Dr Parnell waited amortg the crowd in the outer room, he went, by the persuasion of Swift, with his treasurer's staff in his hand, to inquire for him, and to bid him welcome ; and, as may be inferred from Pope's dedication, admitted him as a favourite companion to his convivial hours ; but — as it seems often to have happened in those times to the favourites of the great — without attention to his fortune, which, how ever, stood in no great need of improvement." ' Our author first came to England about the year 1706. After this, it seems he generally made an annual visit to this country ; and at subsequent periods, while in London, he displayed his pulpit eloquence to numerous congregations, being influenced, it has been affirmed, by a desire " to make himself conspicuous, and to show how worthy he was of high preferment." Dr Johnson asserts that " the queen's death putting an end to his expectations, abated his diligence." There is reason, however, to believe that his disappointment was owing to the habits of intemperance into which he had fallen. Foiled as his anticipations had been " in high places," the private friends of our author did not overlook him; for in 1713, Archbishop King, on the solicitation of Swift, gave him a prebend ; and, in May, 1716, presented him to the vicarage of Finglass, in the diocese of Dublin, the value of which is stated by Goldsmith to have been £400 per annum. Mr Mitford, however, imagines that there is some error in the value which has been placed on this living, " for Swift," he re marks in his ' Vindication of his excellency, Lord Carteret,' " speaks of him as bestowing on Mr James Stafford the vicarage of Finglass, worth about £100 a year. This was written about the year 1730> I have no doubt but that Goldsmith's valuation is erroneous ; for Swift seems to doubt whether his own deanery was worth more than £400 a year." In reference to these presentations of Archbishop King, Dr Johnson observes, " Such notice from such a man inclines me to be lieve, that the vice of which he has been accused was not gross, or not notorious." This prosperity was very transient ; for in July, 1718, a period of about fourteen months after his last clerical appointment, he died at Chester when on his way to Ireland, in the th'irty-ninth year of his age. He was interred at Trinity church in that town. Parnell was courted by the chief public characters of his time, not more for his ability as a scholar than for his fascinating conversation. Pope — in whose hands the poems of Parnell were left— dedicating a se lection from them to the earl of Oxford, thus addresses that nobleman : " Such were the notes thy once loved poet sung, Till death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue." " For him thou oft hast bid the world attend, Fond to forget the statesman in the friend ; For Swift and him, despised the farce of state, The sober follies of the wise and great, — Dext'rous the craving, fawning crowd to quit, And pleased to escape from flattery to wit I" ¦ PamcH's conversion from whig principles to toryism was probably in a great mea sure due to Swift's influence over him. Period.] THOMAS PARNELL. 357 " Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear ; (A sigh the absent claims, the dead a tear !) Recall those nights that closed thy toilsome days ; Still hear thy Parnell in his living lays." Notwithstanding his vivacity as a companion, Goldsmith informs us, that " he wanted that evenness of disposition which bears disappoint ment with phlegm, and joy with indifference ; he was ever much elated or depressed, and his whole life was spent in agony or rapture. But the turbulence of these passions only affected himself, and never those about him : he knew the ridicule of his character, and very effectually raised the mirth of his companions as well at his vexations as at his tri umphs." Parnell, according to Goldsmith, was always careful that " his friends should see him to the best advantage ; for when he found his fits of spleen and uneasiness returning, he retreated with all expedition to the remote parts of Ireland, and there made out a gloomy kind of satisfac tion, in giving hideous descriptions of the solitude to which he retired. From many of his unpublished pieces which I have seen, and from others which have appeared, it would seem that scarce a bog in his neighbourhood was left without reproach, and scarce a mountain reared his head unsung." Parnell corresponded closely with Pope. In one letter, Pope says, " You know hOw very much I want you, and that however your business may depend upon another, my business depends entirely on you. And yet I still hope you will find your man, even though I lose you the meanwhile. At this time, the more I love, the worse I can spare you ; which alone will, I dare say, be a reason to you, to let me have you back the sooner." "In short, come down forthwith, or give me good reasons for delaying, though but for a day or two, by the next post. If I find them just, I will come up to you, though you must know how precious my time is at present ; my hours were never worth so much money before ; but perhaps you are not sensible of this, who give away your own works. You are a generous author ; I, a hackney scribbler. You are a Grecian, and bred at a university ; I, a poor Englishman, of my own educating. You are a reverend parson ; I, a wag. In short, you are Doctor Parnelle, — with an e at the end of your name ; — and I, your most obliged and affectionate friend, and faithful servant." In another letter, written in 1717, probably about the month of March, Pope writes, " I have been ever since December last in a greater variety of business than any such men as you — that is, divines and philoso phers — can possibly imagine a reasonable creature capable of. Gay's play, among the rest, has cost me much time and long-suffering, to stem a tide of malice and party that authors have raised against it. The best revenge against such fellows is now in my hands : I mean, your ' Zoilus,' which really transcends the expectation I had conceived of it. I have put it into the press, beginning with the poem ' Batra- cbom,' for you seem by the first paragraph of the dedication to it, to design to prefix the name of some particular person. I beg therefore to know for whom you intend it, that the publication may not be delay ed on this account ; and this as soon as possible. Inform me also on what terms I am to deal with the bookseller ; and whether you design the copy-money for Gay, as you formerly talked of." Parnell was a member of the Scriblerus club, formed by Pope and 358 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTH his friends. Pope in a letter to Jervas, November, 1716, says, " The best amends you can make to me, is, by saying all the good you can of me, which is, that I heartily love and esteem the dean, and Dr Par- nelle. Gay is yours and theirs : his spirit is awakened very much in the cause of the dean, which has broke forth in a courageous couplet or two upon Sir Richard Blackmore. He has printed it with his name to it, and bravely assigns no other reason than that the said Sir Richard has abused Dr Swift. I have also suffered in the like cause, and shall suffer more, unless Parnelle sends me his ' Zoilus' and ' Bookworm.' " In a letter to Parnell, Pope says, " If I were to tell you the thing I wish above all things, it is, to see you again ; the next is, to see here your treatise of 'Zoilus,' with the ' Batrachomuomachia,' and the ' Per vigilium Veneris,' both which poems are master-pieces in several kinds ; and I question not the prose is as excellent in its sort, as the ' Essay on Homer.' Nothing can be more glorious to that great author, than that the same hand which raised his best statue, and decked it with its old laurels, should also hang up the scarecrow of his miserable critic, arid gibbet up the carcass of ' Zoilus,' to the terror of the writings of pos terity." Gay, in a letter to Parnell, says, " Let ' Zoilus' hasten to your friend's assistance, and envious criticism shall be no more.'' Dr Johnson observes of Parnell on the authority of earlier biogra phers, " He seems to have been one of those poets who take delight in writing. He contributed to the papers of that time, and probably published more than he owned. He left many compositions behind him, of which Pope selected those which he thought best, and dedicated them to the earl of Oxford." ' The Hermit* has been the most popular of his productions : few poems, indeed, have attracted more notice. Dr Blair says, " it is con spicuous throughout the whole of it for beautiful descriptive narration. The manner of the hermit's setting forth to visit the world ; his meeting with a companion, and the houses in which they are successively enter tained, — of the vain man, the covetous man, and the good man, — are pieces of very fine painting, touched with a light and delicate pencil, overcharged with no superfluous colouring, and conveying to us a lively idea of the objects." ' Dr Johnson says of Parnell, that " he was by no means distinguished for great extent of comprehension, or fertility of mind. Of the little that appears, still less is his own. His praise must be derived from the easy sweetness of his diction. In his verse there is more happiness than pains ; he is sprightly without effort, and always delights, though he never ravishes ; every thing is proper, yet every th ing seems casual. If there is some appearance of elaboration in ' The Hermit,' the narrative, as it is less airy, is less pleasing. Of his other compositions, it is impossible to say whether they are the productions of nature, so excellent as not to want the help of art, or of art so refined as to resemble nature." Hume in his ' Essay on Simplicity and Re finement,' says, " It is sufficient to read Cowley once ; but Parnell, after the fiftieth reading, is as fresh as the first." 1 The incidents of this tale were in circulation so early as the 14th century, and hava been employed by Sir P. Herbert in his ' Conceptions ;' by Howell, in his ' Letters:' and by Dr Henry More, in his ' Divine Dialogues.' Period] 359 Mt Samuel teattfy. DIED A. D. 1718. This celebrated poet and physician was descended from a respecta ble family in Yorkshire. He studied at Peterhouse college, Cambridge ; and received the degree of M. D., at that university, in 1691. Soon after this, he went to London, and was admitted a member of the col lege of physicians there. At this time the college was engaged in a dispute with the apothe caries of London, relative to a project which the physicians had set on foot for supplying the sick poor with medicines gratis. This the apo thecaries opposed, dreading that it might injure their retail trade, and they succeeded in turning over several of the fellows of the college to their views. Dr Garth saw and resolved to expose the selfishness of the men, which he soon afterwards did in an admirable poem, entitled ' The Dispensary,' which was most favourably received by the public, and produced a strong impression against the apothecaries. It passed through six editions in as many years ; but every successive edition presented the poem in an improved and extended form. ' The Dis pensary,' among many careless, and many languid lines, exhibits no small share of learning, with a few vigorous and many highly polished passages. The enemies of Dr Garth accused him of borrowing many hints from the Lutrin of Boileau, and from the classics ; but this is surely quite an allowable species of theft in poems of this kind. It is in fact, in the ingenious and grotesque adaptation of several Homeric passages that much of the excellence of this mock-heroic poem consists. An alarming explosion of some chymical preparation, which breaks up a meeting at Apothecaries' hall rather precipitately, produces the fol lowing simile : " So when the giants strove To invade the skies,, and wage a war with Jove, Soon as the ass of old Silenus bray'd, The trembling rebels in confusion fled." He represents the ghost of Guiacum, in the shades below, tormented by the spectres of his patients, the victims of his ill-conduct, and inju dicious treatment on earth, " Who vex'd with endless clamour his repose : This wants a palate, that demands a nose ; And here they execute stern Pluto's will, And ply him every moment with a pill." Not content with the flagellation he had bestowed upon selfish apothe caries- and ignorant pretenders to the healing art in ' The Dispensary,' Garth, having been appointed to deliver the Harveian oration, in 1697, assailed them in such vigorous and pointed Latinity, that the whole city rung with their shame, and Garth became the most admired in literary circles, and the most employed of physicians. Garth was in politics a decided whig ; and contrived to introduce a eulogy on the Revolution into his Harveian oration. His professional rival, Dr Radcliffe, was 360 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTH an equally decided tory ; but the death of the latter left Garth an open field for practice amongst both tories and whigs. On the accession of George I., Garth had the honour of being knighted. He died in 1718. Spence says, " He was rather doubtful and fearful than religious. It was usual for him to say, 'that if there was such a thing as religion, 'twas among the Roman catholics,' pro bably," adds Spence, "from the greater efficacy we give the sacra ments. He died a papist, as I was assured by Mr Blount, who carried the Father to him in his last hours." On this subject the reader will find some judicious reflections appended to our notice of Wycherley. &08t$> WHtiison. BORN A. D. 1672. — DIED A. D. 1719. This eminent writer was the eldest son of Dr Lancelot Addison, dean of Litchfield, by his first wife, a sister of Dr William Gulston, bishop of Bristol, and was born on the 1st of May, 1672, at his father's rectory of Milston in Wiltshire. He was put to school, first at the neighbouring town of Amesbury, and afterwards at Salisbury, from whence he was finally transferred to the Charter-house. It was here he formed his acquaintance with Sir Richard Steele, his well-known associate in some of the most distinguished literary undertakings of his future life. When he had attained the age of fifteen, he was entered of Queen's-college, Oxford, where his reputation soon fulfilled the most sanguine expectations of his friends. The earliest proofs which he gave of his talents and scholarship were some performances in Latin verse, which were afterwards collected and published in the second vo lume of ' The Musse Anglicanae.' The first production he offered to the world in his native tongue was a poetical tribute addressed to Dry den, which appeared when he was in his twenty-second year. It was fortunate enough to win the approbation of the great poet, and was quickly followed by a translation of the fourth book of Virgil's ' Georg ics,' which Dryden has also warmly commended. The critical disserta tion prefixed to Dryden's own version of the ' Georgics,' published soon after, which he states to be from the pen of a friend, is now known to have been likewise written by Addison. Thus honoured by the en couragement and the friendship of the highest living authority in litera ture, our young author now deemed that he might presume to intro duce his muse to the notice of the dispensers of more substantial pa tronage ; which he did by the publication of a poem on one of King William's campaigns, addressed to the lord-keeper Somers. For this his reward was a pension of £300 a year, obtained by the interest of that minister. His Latin poems, already mentioned, appeared about the same time, dedicated to another influential member of the cabinet, Mr Montagu, the chancellor of the exchequer, better known by the title of Lord Halifax, which was soon after conferred upon him. Mr Addison had been originally intended for the church ; but, according to one account, his distrust in his own qualifications for the sacred office, — according to another, the solicitations of his new friends, and the more brilliant prospects which their protection opened to him, in- Period.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 361 duced him to determine upon abandoning that destination ; and towards the end of the year 1699 he took advantage of the means which his pension afforded him, to set out on a tour to Italy. It was from this country that, in 1701, he addressed his well-known letter to his patron, Lord Halifax, then retired from the cabinet, and the object of an im peachment by the house of commons. The death of King William in the spring of 1702, and the change of ministry which ensued, deprived him not only of an expected appoint ment near the person of Prince Eugene, but also of his pension, and forced him to return home. For some time after his arrival in Eng land he remained without any employment, — nor does he appear to have written any thing for the public. During this interval his father died. The battle of Blenheim, fought in August, 1704, was accidentally the occasion of recalling him at once to authorship, and to the political career from which he had formerly been withdrawn when on the point of entering it. In a conversation which happened to take place a short time after the victory, between Godolphin, then lord-treasurer, and Ha lifax, the former expressed his wish that he knew some person who would undertake the task of celebrating so splendid a national achieve ment in verse. Halifax immediately named his friend, the author of the ' Letter from Italy,' as one more capable than any other living writer of doing justice to the theme, and who, if duly encouraged, would no doubt gladly exert his talents in such a service. The consequence was, a request from the lord-treasurer to Addison, transmitted through Mr Boyle, (afterwards Lord Carlton,) the chancellor of the exche quer, that he would invoke his muse to sing this new tale of ' Arms and the Man.' In no long time, accordingly, the poem of ' The Campaign' made its appearance, its author having been already appointed a com missioner of appeals by Godolphin, to whom the performance had been submitted when it was advanced as far as the celebrated simile of the angel. In 1705 Addison accompanied Lord Halifax to Hanover ; and in 1706 he was appointed to the place of under-secretary of state. The road of political advancement was now open before him, but fortunately for letters and for his own fame, he did not suffer either the cares or the charms of office to withdraw him wholly from his original pursuits. Soon after this he again came before the world in his character of poet, by the composition of his English opera of ' Rosamond,' which, how ever, did not meet with much success on the stage. An anonymous political pamphlet, entitled, 'The Present State ofthe War,' which ap peared in November, 1707, is believed to have also proceeded from his pen. In 1709 he went over to Ireland in the quality of secretary to the marquess of Wharton, who was then invested with the lord-lieu tenancy of that kingdom ; and he was at the same time appointed to the office of keeper of the Irish records, with an augmented salary. It was during his absence from England that the first number of ' TheTatler' appeared, on the 12th of April, 1709. It is said that Addison discovered the author to be his friend Steele, from an observa tion on Virgil which he had himself communicated to him. His assist ance was offered as a contributor to the work, in which, as is well- known, he soon took a distinguished part. The change of ministry, and his loss of office, which ere long took place, left him the more lei sure for this employment of his pen. He is also understood to have iv. 2 z 362 LITERARY SERIES. TSlKTH contributed on several occasions to a political paper, ' The Whig Exa miner,' the first number of which appeared on the 14th of September, 1710. This publication, being intended to combat the famous ' Tory Examiner,' kept no measures in its invective any more than its antago nist ; and Addison's papers, of which there are five, are marked by nearly as much asperity of style as any others in the collection. The ' Tatler' was brought to a close on the 2d of January, 1711 ; but only to be followed almost immediately by its still more celebrated succes sor, the ' Spectator,' which began to be published on the 1st of March. To the ' Spectator,' Addison was a regular and active contributor from its commencement ; and he owes his extensive popularity as an English classic, more to the felicitous productions of his genius which he con signed to its pages, than to any thing else to which his name is attach ed. The ' Spectator,' of which so many as 20,000 copies were some times sold in a day, terminated on the 6th of September, 1712, and was followed by the ' Guardian,' which continued during the years 1713 and 1714, and in which Addison also wrote largely. In 1713 appear ed his celebrated tragedy of ' Cato,' which was acted for thirty-five suc cessive nights amid the contending applauses of the two great political parties who divided the nation, and who, amusingly enough, were both equally zealous in interpreting the story of the last struggle of Roman liberty as a defence of their own principles, and a satire on those of . their opponents. The author, however — who, as Pope with some de gree of ingenious spite informs us, " sweated behind the scenes with concern to find their applause proceeding more from the hand than the head" — was indemnified by the praises and honours which his drama received, in quarters where such feelings could not be said to operate. Several translations of it were made both into the French and Italian languages ; and it is stated to have been made the subject of imitation even in Germany, between which country and our own there was in those days but little literary intercourse. A political squib, which ap peared this year, entitled, ' The Trial and Conviction of Count Tariff,' directed against the ministry and their treaty of commerce with France, is also understood to have proceeded from the pen of Addison, and has been printed by his friend and executor, Mr Tickell, among his collect ed works. The death of Queen Anne, in 1714, effected a complete revolution in political arrangements, and once more introduced our author and his friends to power. The lords-justices immediately appointed Mr Addi son their secretary ; and it is said that upon the formation of the new ministry he was invited to accept the post of secretary of state, which, however, he declined, preferring to go back to Ireland in his former ca pacity of secretary to the lord-lieutenant, now the earl of Sunderland. The earl, however, was soon recalled from his viceroyalty, and Addison was at the same time transferred from his secretaryship to be one of the lords of trade. On the breaking out of the rebellion in 1715, he again assumed his pen, and wielded it with great effect in support of the go vernment, by the publication of ' The Freeholder,' the first number of which appeared on the 23d of September in that year, and the last (the fifty-fifth,) on the 29th of June, 1716. It was about this time also, that his verses to Sir Godfrey Kneller, on the king's picture, and one or two other minor poetical pieces, were given to the world. In 1716 Period] JOSEPH ADDISON. 363 he married the dowager-countess of Warwick, with whom, however, he did not lead a happy life. In April, 1717, he was appointed one of the secretaries of state, but he did not hold this high office quite twelve months, having resigned in March the year following, under the plea of ill health, although it is now understood that his retirement would have been rendered necessary at any rate, not only by his unserviceableness in the house of commons — of which his constitutional bashfulness kept him a silent member — but even by his insufficiency for the more private business of his situation ; this great writer, it is said, frequently occa sioning the most inconvenient delays from his hesitation in inditing a common note. He failed from taking too great pains to succeed, — a fault only to be fallen into by no ordinary mind. It is probable that it was a consciousness of his unfitness which induced him to decline the secretaryship of state when it was first offered to him. Whether it was the vexation of this failure that broke his health, or a lamentable habit of over-indulgence in wine which he had allowed to grow upon him, or both causes combined, he was now in a state of great debility. Some time after he had thrown off the anxieties of business, however, a par tial recovery reanimated the hopes of his friends ; but it was soon fol lowed by a relapse, and he breathed his last at Holland-house, on the 17th of June, 1719, when just entering the forty-eighth year of his age. Before he expired, he sent for his step-son, the earl of Warwick, then in his twenty-first year, and, while the young nobleman stood at his bedside to receive his commands, grasping his hand, he said he had called him that he might see with what peace a Christian could die. He left an only daughter by the countess. Besides the titles we have enumerated, a few others require to be noticed, in order to complete the catalogue of Mr Addison's writings. Sir Richard Steele acknowledges himself indebted to him for a considerable part of his comedy of the ' Tender Husband,' which appeared in 17,04; and he is also known to be the author of the ' Drummer, or the Haunted House,' which origi nally appeared anonymously, but with a preface by Steele, stating it to be the work of a friend. Some papers in a continuation of the ' Spec tator,' which was attempted, but soon dropped, and one or two in a publication of a similar nature, entitled, the ' Lover,' were contributed by him during the years 1713 and 1714. Two pamphlets, bearing the title ofthe 'Old Whig,' which appeared in 1719, in support of the bill introduced that year to limit the prerogative of the crown in the crea tion of peers, are also known to be the productions of his pen. They were the last which he sent to the press, and were written in reply to the ' Plebeian,' a paper by his old friend Steele, whom he assails both with derision and acrimony, while Steele, on his part, answered the attack in the same spirit of virulent hostility. Such was the sequel of the literary partnership which has transmitted the two names to pos terity in such bright and intimate union, that the one can scarcely be mentioned without recalling the other. Addison's excellent ' Dialogues on Ancient Medals' were first printed in the edition of his collected works published after his death by Mr Tickell ; but the work had been begun when he was in Italy in 1702, and appears to have been ready for the press in 1715, at which time Pope addressed to the author the fifth of his ' Moral Epistles,' in reference to the forthcoming volume. The same collection likewise 364 LITERARY SERIES [Sixth contains some translations from . Ovid's ' Metamorphoses,' which then appeared for the first time ; and a portion of a ' Treatise on the Chris tian Religion,' the commencement of a work intended to be of consider able extent. A Latin tract, entitled, ' Dissertatio de insignioribus Ro- manorum Poetis,' which was found among the manuscripts of Lord Somers, and printed in 1739, has also been ascribed to Addison, though on very doubtful grounds. When he was called to office on the death of Queen Anne, he had formed, we are told, the design of com piling an English dictionary, on the model of that of the Delia Crusca academy, — a task which, he left to be probably better performed by Johnson, who, with some deficiencies for such a work, which belonged to Addison in an equal degree, certainly brought to it more reading than his predecessor would have done, to say nothing of his extraordi nary felicity in definition, in which it is not likely that any other writer would have rivalled him. The last performance which our author con templated was a paraphrase of some of the Psalms ; but this he was prevented from commencing by the relapse from which he never re covered. Addison's literary life, as we have seen, extends over the space of about a quarter of a century, and during the greater portion of this pe riod he may be considered as having occupied a place in the very first rank of the eminent writers of the time. Nor has the reputation which he enjoyed in his own day failed to receive, in great part at least, the sealing verdict of posterity. It may, perhaps, be doubted, however, whether those of his writings which still retain most of their popularity are exactly the portion of his literary labours on which either he him self would have desired, or his contemporaries expected, that his per manent fame should principally rest. He not only, like many more of the prose classics of our own and other languages, commenced his career as a poet, but he continued to pursue to the last the more ambitious road of verse. Yet even in his own day Pope had here fairly thrown him into the shade. Perhaps he never quite forgave Pope for thus plucking from his grasp the laurel crown of Dryden, to which he had aspired to succeed ; and there may be some foundation for the suspicion which has been entertained of the jealousy which rankled under his pretended friendship for the rising poet, and for the stories of the way in which it was manifested on one or two occasions, which we find in the scandalous chronicles of the time. The publication of the first book of a rival translation of the Iliad, by his dependant, Tickell, at tbe mo ment when that by Pope was in the course of delivery to his subscrib ers, was, as is well-known, keenly resented by the latter as a most un kind blow dealt at him, if not by Addison, at least by his permission, his suspicion, or conviction, in fact, being that the version was Addi son's own. Sir William Blackstone, who has discussed the whole of the imputations resting upon Addison for his conduct to Pope, in a very able paper printed by Dr Kippis in the second edition of the ' Biogra phia Britannica,' while he conclusively vindicates the subject of our present article from many of these calumnies, and repudiates the notion of bis having come forward on this occasion to attempt to do his friend an injury under the cover of Tickell's name, allows that " the publica tion was indiscreet and ill-timed." The ' Letter from Italy,' and the ' Campaign,' so much applauded on their Period.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 365 first appearance, are now nearly forgotten. They contain some sonor ous enough versification, and a few passages of considerable, rhetorical splendour, — but little or nothing of " the vision and the faculty divine." The latter production has been characterized by Warton — who was certainly not disposed unduly to depreciate the poetical genius of the author, since he classes him along with Dryden, in the second rank of our national poets — as too much of a " Gazette in rhyme ;" — and the former is certainly a very uninspired piece of composition for such a subject. In writing ' Cato,' Addison took refuge in a style of poetry, where he had not to encounter Pope's rivalry. This famous tragedy abounds in eloquent declamation ; but is neither very poetical, nor very dramatic. Even its original success, as has been already hinted, was probably as much due to the political animosities, which it was felt to gratify, as to any purer feelings of admiration which it excited ; but, had the case been otherwise, the attraction excited by such a play as ' Cato,' when it first came out, would be to be easily accounted for with out conceding to it much real poetical merit. There is much in it to tickle the ear, if not to fill the imagination or excite the passions,^ many happy turns of rhetoric, if little of an animating soul of poetry, — many strokes of art, if few of nature. These qualities take the vulgar taste, — and in the first boisterous judgment of the public, are apt to pass for all in all. But gradually time sets matters right; and the few, who are the makers of fame, prevail over the many, who may for a while succeed in bestowing a noisy popularity. The fame of Addison now is founded on his prose writings, — on those fugitive essays which perhaps he himself looked upon as the mere sportive exercises of his pen, to be forgotten as soon as they had served the purpose of the moment. Yet these charming effusions will probably be admired while our language lives. Many of them, it is curious enough, are in reality much more poetical even, although in the undress of prose, than any of the author's verse ; — we need hardly recall to the recollection of any reader the Vision of Mirza, and other imaginations nearly as exquisite ly beautiful. But it is the rich, exuberant, and original, yet at the same time refined and classic humour, of many of these papers for which the genius of AddisOn deserves its highest panegyric. This is his own domain, where he indeed has " no brother near his throne." In mere wit, and also in farcical power, many have excelled him ; but < who has ever matched the inexpressibly delicious insinuation of his f quiet, easy, yet searching raillery, or the cordiality and perfect nature I of some of his delineations of character in the same style I As the I Vision of Mirza is more poetical, Sir Roger de Coverley is more i dramatic, a thousand times, than any thing in ' Cato.' Prose seems to ! nave been the natural and destined region of Addison's genius ; in its temperate clime he moved in freedom, — while his wings flagged, or were only lifted with awkward and constraining effort in the torrid zone of poetry. Hence another, and far from the lowest of the titles, which make up the fame he now enjoys. Even as to manner, but a feeble imitator while he writes in verse, he is the inventor of a style of his 1 own in prose, — a high and rare distinction. Here, no imitator himself, ' he has been imitated less or more by almost every writer who has suc ceeded him. It is this excellence, perhaps, which more than any other has contributed to elevate him to the rank he enjoys as one of the 366 LITER A.RY SERIES. [Sixth popular classics of our language, and which will do most to retain him in that station. Without this, even his humour and his imagination would not perhaps have saved him from neglect ; for no writer, it is worthy of remark, has ever attained an enduring fame in literature. whose style was none of his chief recommendations. &o$n dFIamsto&T BORN A. D. 1646. — DIED A.D. 1719. John Flamsteed, the celebrated astronomer and mathematician; was the son of Stephen Flamsteed, a substantial yeoman of Derby, where he was born in the year 1646. He was educated at the free- school of Derby. But at fourteen years of age, and while head-scholar, he was afflicted with a severe fit of sickness, which, being followed by other distempers, prevented his going to the university, as had been originally intended. He was taken from school in the year 1662, and, within a month or two after, had John de Sacrobosco's book ' De Sphaera' lent him, which he set himself to read without any instruction. This accident, and the leisure which he now had, laid the ground-work of all that accurate mathematical and astronomical knowledge for which he became after wards so celebrated. He had already read a great deal of history, ecclesiastical as well as civil, but this subject was entirely new to him, and he was greatly delighted with it. Having translated a portion of Sacrobosco's treatise, he proceeded to make dials by the direction of such books as he could procure; and having changed a piece of astrology, found among his father's books, for Street's ' Caroline Tables,' he learned the method of computing eclipses, and set himself to calculate the places of the planets. He spent some part of his time, however, in astrological studies ; yet he never was captivated with the solemn pre tensions of that vain science. Having calculated by the ' Caroline Tables' an eclipse of the sun, which was to happen on the 22d of June, 1666, he communicated it to a relation, who showed it to Mr Hatton of Wingfield- manor in Derby shire. This gentleman — who was a good mathematician, as appears from some of his pieces published in the appendix to Foster's ' Mathe matical Miscellanies' — came to see Mr Flamsteed soon after ; and find ing he was little acquainted with the astronomical performances of others, sent him Riccioli's ' Novum Almagestum,' and Kepler's ' Rudolphine Tables,' with some other mathematical books to which he was before a stranger; and from this time he prosecuted his studies with great vigour and success. In 1669, he calculated some remarkable appulses of the moon to the fixed stars, by the - Caroline Tables ;' and directed them to Lord Brouncker, then president of the Royal society. This communica tion was so much approved, that it procured him letters of thanks from Mr Oldenburg, the secretary, and from Mr John Collins, one of the members. In June 1690, his father — who had hitherto discounte nanced his studies — taking notice of his correspondence with several ingenious men whom he had never seen, advised him to make a journey Period.] JOHN FLAMSTEED. 367 to London that he might be personally acquainted with them. Young Flamsteed gladly embraced this proposal, and visited Mr Oldenburg and Mr Collins, who introduced him to Sir Jonas Moore, one of the most eminent mathematicians of the day. Sir Jonas took Mr Flamsteed under his protection, presented him with Townley's micrometer, and undertook to procure him glasses for a telescope at a moderate rate. Flamsteed soon after went to Cambridge, where he visited Barrow, Rae, and Newton ; and at the same time entered him self a student of Jesus-college. Sir Jonas Moore contributed to his expenses. In the spring ofthe year 1672, he extracted some observations from Gascoigne's and Crabtree's ' Letters on Mathematical Subjects,' which had not been made public, and which he translated into Latin. He finished the transcript of Mr Gascoigne's papers in May; and spent the remainder of the year in making observations, and in preparing calculations of the approaches of the moon and planets to the* fixed stars for the following year. These were published by Oldenburg in the Philosophical transactions with some observations on the planets which Mr Flamsteed imparted to him. In 1673, he wrote a small tract on the true and apparent diameters of all the planets when at their greatest and least distances from the earth. In 1674, he wrote an Ephemeris, in which he exposed the falsity of astrology, and the ignorance of those that pretended to skill in this pseudo-science, and gave a table of the moon's rising and setting, together with the eclipses and approaches of the moon and planets to the fixed stars. This was communicated to Sir Jonas Moore, for whom Mr Flamsteed made a table of the moon's true southing that year. Flamsteed having taken the degree of master of arts at Cambridge, resolved to enter into holy orders, and to settle at a small living near Derby, which was in the gift of a friend of his father's. In the mean time, Sir Jonas Moore having notice of his design, wrote to him to come to London, whither he returned in February, 1675. He was en tertained in the house of that gentleman, who had other views for him ; but Mr Flamsteed persisting in his resolution to take orders, he did not dissuade him from it. On the 4th of March following, Sir Jonas brought Mr Flamsteed a warrant to be the king's astronomer, with a salary of £100 per annum. This, however, did not induce him to relin quish his design of entering into holy orders, and on Easter following he was ordained at Ely-house by Bishop Gunning. Oh the 10th of August, 1675, the foundation of the royal observatory at Greenwich was laid ; and as Mr Flamsteed was the first astronomer- royal for whose use this edifice was erected, it still bears the name of Flamsteed-house. During the building of it, he lodged at Greenwich ; and his quadrant and telescopes being kept in the queen's house there, he observed the appulses of the moon and planets to the fixed stars. In 1681 his ' Doctrine of the Sphere' was published in Sir Jonas Moore's ' System of the Mathematics.' About the year 1684 he was presented to the living of Burslow, near Bleachingly, in Surrey. Of the manner in which Mr Flamsteed obtained this living, the following account is given by Roger North. " Sir Jonas Moore once invited the lord-keeper North to dine with him at the Tower ; and after din ner presented Mr Flamsteed. His lordship received him with much 363 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTn familiarity, and encouraged him to come and see him often, that he might have the pleasure of his conversation. The star-gazer was not wanting to himself in that ; and his lordship was extremely delighted with his accounts and observations about the planets, especially those attend ant on Jupiter, showing how the echpses of them, being regular and calculable, might rectify the longitude of places upon the globe, and de monstrating that light did not pass instantaneously, but in time ; with other remarkables in the heavens. These discourses always regaled his lordship ; and a good benefice falling void, not far from the ob servatory, in the gift of the great seal, his lordship gave it to Mr Flamsteed ; which set him at ease in his fortunes, and encouraged his future labours, from which great things were expected ; as applying the Jovial observations to marine uses, for finding longitudes at sea, and to correct the globes, celestial and terrestial, which were very faulty. And in order to the first, he had composed tables of the eclipses of the satellites, which showed when they were to happen, one after another ; and of these, finely painted upon a neat board, he made a present to his lordship. And he had advanced his other design of rectifying maps, by having provided large blank globes, on which he might inscribe his places corrected. But plenty and pains seldom dwell to gether ; for as one enters the other gives way ; and, in this instance, a good living, pensions, &c. spoiled a good cosmographer and astronomer ; so very little is left of Mr Flamsteed's sedulous and judicious applica tions that way." In justice to Mr Flamsteed, it should be observed, that there appears no ground for North's reflection at the close of the above passage. His astronomical inquiries might not produce all the consequences which he sometimes expected from them ; but nothing of this kind seems to have arisen from any want of application in him ; for the Philosophi cal transactions afford ample evidence of his activity and diligence, as well as of his penetration and exactness in astronomical studies, after he had obtained the preferments that have been already men tioned, and which were all that ever were conferred upon him. In December, 1719, Mr Flamsteed was seized with strangury, which carried him off on the last day of that month. He spent a great part of his life in the pursuit of knowledge, and his uncommon merit as an astronomer was acknowledged by the ablest of his con temporaries ; particularly by Dr John Wallis, Dr Edmund Halley, and Sir Isaac Newton. Amongst his foreign correspondents was the celebrated Cassini. His ' Historia Ccelestis Britannica' was published at London, in 1725, in three volumes folio, and dedicated to the king by his widow. Great part of this work had been printed off before his death, and the rest completed, except the prolegomena prefixed to the third volum e. The clebrated mathematician, Dr John Keill, observes, " that Mr Flam - steed, with indefatigable pains, for more than forty years watched the motions of the stars, and gave us innumerable observations of the sun, moon, and planets, which he made with very large instruments exactly divided by most exquisite art, and fitted with telescopical sights. Whence we are to rely more upon the observations he hath made, than on those that went before him, who had made their observations with the naked eye, without the assistance of telescopes." Pkbiod.] NICHOLAS ROWE. 369 joijn msbts- BORN A. D. 1677. — DIED A. D. 1719. This ingenious writer was educated at the same academy with Isaac Watts and Samuel Say. On the peace of Ryswick, he presented him self to public notice by publishing a poem in celebration of that event ; he subsequently commemorated the leading public events in a series of odes, most of which owed their fame with the public to the exquisite music which was composed for them by such masters of the art as Pur cell, Pepusch, and Handel. His dramatic piece, entitled ' The Siege of Damascus,' is his best known work. He also published a very spirited translation of the tenth book of Lucan. Addison appears to have en tertained a very high idea of Hughes's poetical powers, for he at one time wished him to write the fifth act of ' Cato.' He was an extensive contributor to the Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian. Nicolas &oto*. BORN A. D. 1673. — DIED A. D. 1719. Nicholas Rowe, the son of John Rowe, Esq. sergeant at law, was born at Little Berkford, in Bedfordshire, in 1673. He obtained the prior part of his education at a private school in Highgate, and was afterwards removed to Westminster, where, under the care of the cele brated Dr Busby, he made a rapid progress in the acquisition of the learned languages, and at the age of fifteen was elected one of the king's scholars. His father, who had destined him to the study of the law, thought him qualified, when sixteen, for a student of the Middle Temple ; and for some years he prosecuted the initiatory studies of his profession with so much zeal and ability, as to promise the attainment of considerable eminence as a barrister. The death of his father, however, which took place when he had reached his nineteenth year, relaxed his efforts ; and a partiality for elegant literature, and especially for poetry, which he had early imbibed with enthusiasm during his residence at Westmin ster, began to share, and at length to occupy the whole of his time. The fruit of this change in the direction of his pursuits, was, at the age of twenty-five, the production of a tragedy, under the title of ' The Ambitious Step-Mother,' and which being received with very general applause, fixed him for ever in the service of the Muses. He relin quished, therefore, entirely any further attention to his profession ; and we are to view him, for some years, as almost exclusively occupied in writing for the stage. We shall therefore proceed to notice briefly his dramatic pieces with out interruption from intervening events ; they form the prominent fea ture of his life and character, and upon them his reputation with pos terity is, in a great measure, built. In 1702, four years after the appearance of his first play, he brought forward a second tragedy, iv. 3 a 370 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth named ' Tamerlane ;' and which, from its allusion to personages then acting an important part on the political stage, met with more applause than it intrinsically merited. When it was known that Tamerlane was drawn for King William, and Bajazet for Lewis the Fourteenth, no thing at that time was wanting to render it a favourite with the public. To this popular production succeeded, in 1703, the tragedy of the ' Fair Penitent,' which, from the beauty and melody of the versifica tion, the sweetness of the diction, and the interesting conduct of the fable, still continues to attract, with power equal to what it first pos sessed, the lovers and admirers of the drama. It has had the merit, likewise, of furnishing to Richardson the bases on which he has con structed the highly-finished character of Lovelace. The next two tragedies of Rowe ; the ' Ulysses' acted in 1706, and the 'Royal Convert' in 1708, met with a very cold reception on the ¦stage, and are now no longer remembered. The poet, however, made ample atonement for these failures by the composition of his • Jane Shore,' the best and most pathetic of bis plays, and which, together with his ' Fair Penitent,' will remain a durable monument of his genius. The last dramatic effort of our author was ' Lady Jane Grey,' greatly inferior in every respect to its immediate predecessor, and which seems to have excited little attention, either on its first appearance, or since. Rowe, as a dramatic poet, has not attained the highest excellencies of his art ; he is not distinguished for his powers of exciting either pity or terror, nor are his characters boldly or accurately discriminated ; in these respects, which form the essential virtues of the tragic bard, he is not only inferior to Shakspeare, with whom competition may be pro nounced nearly hopeless, but to Fletcher, to Massinger, and to Otway. The qualities which have enabled Rowe to maintain his station on the stage are, the dignity and melody of his verse ; the amatory softness which breathes through many of his scenes ; the beauty of his senti ments, and the interesting construction of his fables. Not content with the cypress wreath of Melpomene, our poet ven tured, in 1706, to court the Muse of Comedy, and brought forward at the theatre at Lincoln's-inn-fields a piece of this description, in three acts, called ' The Biter.' It was, however, so completely deficient in tbe vis comica, that, though it is recorded of its author that he sat laughing almost convulsively in the house at what he deemed incom parable strokes of wit, the audience unanimously, and very seriously and indignantly, condemned it to perpetual oblivion. Two works which employed much of Mr Rowe's time and attention remain to be noticed. The first is an edition of Shakspeare's plays, which he published in 1709, with a short life of Shakspeare prefixed. He appears not to have been well qualified for this task ; " Rowe," says Mr Capell, " went no further than to the edition nearest to him in time, wliich was the folio of 1685, the last and worst of these impressions : this he republished with great exactness ; correcting here and there some of its grossest mistakes, and dividing into acts and scenes the plays that were not divided before. The second is a version of Lucan's Pharsalia, in the rhymed couplet of ten syllables, which, though finish ed before, was not published until ten years after his death. This is a very successful attempt, and exhibits the spirit and genius of the Ro man bard with great energy and fidelity The versification, if not Period.] NICHOLAS HOWE. S71 equal, in point of vigour, richness, and variety, to that of Pope, or Mickle, as it appears in the Iliad and Lusiad, is rarely defective in smoothness and modulation, and sometimes displays a considerable por tion of melody and beauty. The miscellaneous poems of Rowe, pub lished in the editions of the British Poets, are, with the exception of ' The Despairing Shepherd,' of little value. The pecuniary circumstances of our author, which had been originally independent, were in the latter part of his life augmented to affluence by places under government. In the reign of Queen Anne, he had been appointed by the duke of Queensberry, secretary for public affairs ; and upon the death of his grace, it is related that, with a view to pre ferment, he frequently attended the levees of the earl of Oxford, where at length an incident of rather a ludicrous nature put an end to his assiduities. " Mr Rowe," says the writer of his life in the Biographia Britannica, " going one day to pay his court to the earl, then advanced to be lord-high-treasurer, was courteously received by his lordshp, who ask ed him if he understood Spanish well ? He answered no ; but thinking that the earl might intend to send him into Spain on some honourable commission, he presently added, that he did not doubt in a short time both to understand and speak it : and the treasurer approving of what he said, Mr Rowe took his leave, and immediately retired to a private country farm-house ; where in a few months having learnt Spanish, he waited again upon the earl, to acquaint him with his diligence ; where upon his lordship asking if he was sure he understood the language thoroughly, and our author answering in the affirmative, that fathom less minister burst out into the following exclamation : ' How happy are you, Mr Rowe, that you can enjoy the pleasure of reading and understanding Don Quixote in the original I' " For the disappointment which he thus suffered he was liberally con soled on the accession of George I. when' he was immediately made poet-laureat, and one of the land-surveyors of the customs in the port of London. To these not very congenial employments were shortly afterwards added the clerkship of the council to the prince of Wales, and the secretaryship of the presentations, to which, without any solici tation on his part, he was instantly appointed by the lord-chancellor Parker on his receival of the seals. His enjoyment of these promotions was, however, but of short dura tion ; for he died on the sixth of December, 1718, aged forty-four, and was buried on the nineteenth of the same month in Westminster-abbey. Mr Rowe twice entered into the conjugal state, and had a son by his first, and a daughter by his second, wife. He was a man elegant in his person and manners, of a lively and amiable temper, yet partial to occasional solitude; he therefore frequently retired into the country, where, according to the relation of his friend, Dr Welwood, he usually employed his time in the study of divinity and ecclesiastical history. He was not only well- acquainted with the learned languages, but familiar with French, Italian, and Spanish, the first of which he spoke with fluency.1 1 We are indebted for the above memoir to Dr Drake's elegant sketches of oui periodical essayists. 372 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth iHatt^iu Wviot. BORN A. D. 1664. — DIED A. D. 1721. Matthew Prior was the son of George Prior, citizen of London, and was born in the year 1664. His father dying when he was very young, left him to the care of an uncle, a vintner near Charing-cross, who discharged the trust that was reposed in him with a tenderness truly paternal, as Prior always acknowledged with the highest profes sions of gratitude. He received part of his education at Westminster school, where he greatly distinguished himself; but was afterwards taken home by his uncle in order to be bred up to his trade. Notwithstanding the mean employment to which Prior seemed now doomed, yet, at his leisure hours, he prosecuted the study of the class ics, and especially his favourite Horace, which led to his being taken notice of by the polite company which resorted to his uncle's house. It happened one day that the earl of Dorset being at this tavern with several gentlemen of rank, the discourse turned upon the odes of Ho race ; and the company being divided in their sentiments about a pas sage in that poet, one of the gentlemen said, " I find we are not likely to agree in our criticisms ; but, if I am not mistaken, there is a young fellow in the house who is able to set us all right ;" upon which he named Prior, who was immediately sent for, and desired to give his opinion of Horace's meaning in the ode under consideration. This he did with great modesty, and so much to the satisfaction of the com pany that_the earl of Dorset determined to remove him to some sta tion more suited to his genius ; and accordingly sent him, . at his own expense, to St John's college, Cambridge, where he took his degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1686, and afterwards became a fellow of the college. During his residence at the university, he contracted an intimate friendship with Charles Montague, Esq. afterwards earl of Halifax ; in conjunction with whom he wrote a very humorous piece, entitled, ' The Hind and the Panther transversed to the story of the Country Mouse and the City Mouse,' printed in 1687, in 4to, in answer to Dryden's ' Hind and Panther,' published the year before. Upon the Revolution, Mr Prior was brought to court by his great patron, the earl of Dorset, by whose interest he was introduced to public employment; and, in the year 1690, was made secretary to the earl of Berkley, plenipotentiary at the Hague. In this station he ac quitted himself so well, that King William, desirous at this time to keep him near his person, made him one of the gentlemen of his bed chamber. He was afterwards appointed secretary to the earls of Pem broke and Jersey, and Sir Joseph Williamson, ambassadors and pleni potentiaries at the treaty of Ryswick, in 1697 ; the same year he was nominated principal secretary to the embassy to the court of France. He continued in this station during the two embassies of the earls of Portland and Jersey. In 1699 King William sent him from England to hold a private con ference with him at his palace at Loo, in Holland ; and, upon his re- Period.] MATTHEW PRIOR. 373 turn, he was made under-secretary of state in the earl of Jersey's of fice, who was principal secretary of state for the northern provinces. He afterwards went to Paris, where he had a principal share in nego tiating the partition-treaty. In 1700 he was created Master of Arts by mandamus, and appointed one of the lords-commissioners of trade and plantations, upon the resignation of Mr Locke. He was also chosen member of parliament for East Grimsted in Sussex. Upon the success of the war with France after the accession of Queen Anne, Prior exerted his poetical talents in honour of his coun try ; first in his letter to Boileau, the celebrated French poet, on the victory at Blenheim in 1704 ; and again in an ode on the success of her majesty's arms in 1706. In 1710 he was supposed to have had a share in writing ' The Examiner,' and particularly a criticism in it upon a poem of Dr Garth's to the earl of Godolphin. About this time, when Godolphin was defeated by Oxford, and the tories began again to rally, Prior and Garth espoused opposite interests ; Prior wrote for, and Garth against, the court. While Prior was thus early initiated into public affairs, and continued in the hurry of business for many years, it must appear not a little sur prising that he should find sufficient opportunities to cultivate his po etical talents as he did. In his preface to his poems, he says, " that poetry was only the product of his leisure hours ; that he had com monly business enough upon his hands, and was only a poet by acci dent." Bolingbroke, who, notwithstanding the many exceptions to his conduct and sentiments in other instances, must be allowed to be an accomplished judge of fine talents, entertained the highest esteem for Prior's abilities. In a letter dated 10th September, 1712, addressed to Mr Prior, while he was the queen's minister and plenipotentiary at the court of France, his lordship pays him the following compliment : " For God's sake, Matt, hide the nakedness of thy country, and give the best turn thy fertile brain will furnish thee with to the blunders of thy countrymen, who are not much better politicians than the French are poets." His lordship thus concludes his epistle : " It is near three o'clock in the morning. I have been hard at work all day, and am not yet enough recovered to bear much fatigue ; excuse, therefore, the con- fusedness of this scroll, which is only from Harry to Matt, and not from the secretary to the minister. Adieu ; my pen is ready to drop out of my hand, it being now three o'clock in the morning. Believe that no man loves you better, or is more faithfully yours, &c." Prior is represented by contemporary writers as a gentleman who united the elegance and politeness of a court with the habits of a scho lar and a man of genius. This representation may be just ; yet it is generally true that they who rise from low life always retain some traces of their original. There was one particular in which Prior veri fied this remark. The same woman who could charm the waiter in a tavern, still maintained her dominion over the minister in France. The Chloe of Prior, it seems, was a woman in his own station of life ; but he never forsook her in the height of his promotions. One would ima gine, however, that this woman — who is said to have been a butcher's wife, — Spence calls her "a poor mean creature," — must either have been very handsome, or have had something about her superior to peo ple of her rank, yet it seems the ease was otherwise, and no better 374 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth reason can be given for his attachment to her but that she was to his taste. Prior was appointed minister-plenipotentiary to the court of France to negotiate the peace of Utrecht ; and, after it was concluded, he re mained at that court with the character of British ambassador till some months after the accession of George I , when he was succeeded by the earl of Stair. Upon his arrival, he underwent a very strict examina tion by a committee of the privy-council. His political friend, Boling broke, foreseeing a storm, took shelter in France. On the 10th of June, 1715, Robert Walpole moved the house against him, and, on the 17th, Prior was ordered into close custody. In the year 1717, an act of grace was passed in favour of those who had opposed the Hanoverian succession, as well as those who had been iu open rebellion ; but Prior was exempted from it. At the close of that year, however, he was dis charged from his confinement, and retired from all public employment. The severe usage which Prior met with, perhaps, was the occasion of the following lines, addressed to his Chloe : " From public noise, and factious strife, From all the busy ills of life, Take me, my Chloe, to thy breast, And lull my wearied soul to rest ; For ever, in this humble cell, Let thee and I, my fair-one dwell ; None enter else, but Love ; — and he Shall bar the door, and keep the key. To painted roofs, and shining spires, Uneasy seats of high desires, Let the unthinking many crowd, That dare be covetous and proud ; In golden bondage let them wait, And barter happiness for state ; But oh I my Chloe, when thy swain Desires to see a court again, May Heaven around his destin'd head The choicest of his curses shed 1 To sum up all the rage of Fate In these two things I dread and hate, — May'st thou be false, and I be great 1 " Prior, after a length of years passed in various services of active life, was desirous of spending the remainder of his days in rural tranquillity. He led a very retired life at Downhall in Essex ; and found, he de- clares, a more solid and innocent satisfaction among the woods and meadows, than he had ever enjoyed in the courts of princes. Having finished his ' Solomon,' a poem on the vanity of the world,. — his most admired performance, — he published by subscription, an edition of all his poems, in one volume, folio. Some time after, he formed a design of writing a history of his own time ; but he had made very little progress in it when a lingering fever proved fatal to him. He died in the year 1721, at Wimpole, then a seat of the earl of Ox ford, at a small distance from Cambridge ; his remains were interred in Westminster-abbey, where a monument was erected to his memory, at his own expense, for which purpose he had in his lifetime set apart £500. A suitable inscription was composed for it by Dr Freind, mas ter of Westminster school. After his death, several posthumous poems ascribed to him, were published ; and, in 1740, appeared the ' History Pkriod.J SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 375 of his Own Time,' said to have' been printed from his own manuscripts, but it is a performance totally unworthy of him. The best edition of our author's poems is that Of 1733, by Samuel Humphreys, Esq. in three vols., to which are prefixed memoirs of his life, — the chief authority for the concise account which we have here given of him. Prior has imi tated with some success, in his tales and apologues, the graceful ease and naivete of the French poets. He is totally destitute, however, of the highest attributes of the poetical genius. Of his personal character, we are constrained to confess, in the language of Spence, that he " was not a right good man." Mx Cijnstop&er Hwn, BOKN A. D. 1632. — DIED A. D. 1728. Christopher Wren, the greatest of British architects, was born at East Knoyle, in Wiltshire, the rectory of his father Dr Christopher Wren, dean of Windsor, on the 20th of October, 1632. His family was of Danish origin. The genius of young Wren early displayed itself. While yet a boy he invented a sort of orrery, and some other mechanical contrivances, which introduced him to the notice of Bishop Wilkins, Dr Willis, and other eminent mathematicians of the day. In 1646, he entered as a gentleman-commoner at Wadham college, Ox ford ; and in 1650 graduated as bachelor of arts. In 1653, he was elected fellow of bis college, and soon after went to London. During his residence at Oxford, he directed his attention chiefly to mathemati cal and astronomical science ; and he was one of the first in England who endeavoured to account for the variations in the height of the mer cury of the barometer — an instrument just invented by Torricelli — upon the principle of a column of atmospheric air varying in weight. He also paid considerable attention to anatomy, and was employed by Sir Charles Scarborough as a demonstrating assistant. The merit of having been the first to propose and try the physiological experiment of injecting liquids of various kinds into the veins of living animals is claimed, and apparently on good grounds, for Wren. It happened favourably for the young philosopher, that during his residence at Ox ford that city' became the head-quarters of that association of philoso phical inquirers that laid the foundation of the Royal society. Wren, though yet a mere youth, was admitted to their conferences, and doubtless profited greatly by his intercourse with such men as Dr Willis, Dr Wilkins, Sir W. Petty, Robert Boyle, and other eminent philosophers, who belonged to the association. In 1657 Wren was chosen to the professorship of astronomy in Gresham college, London. His inaugural oration on assuming this chair, is published in Ward's ' Lives of the Gresham Professors.' It was received with great applause, and the course was honoured by the attendance of many of the most distinguished men of science of the day. In 1658, he published a solution of Pascal's celebrated problem which had been given out under the assumed name of Jean de Mountfort ; and in the same year he communicated various mathematical papers to Dr Wallis, the Savilian professor at Oxford, which were published bv 376 LITERARY SERIES. "Sixth the doctor in his treatise on the cycloid. The distractions which fol lowed the death of Cromwell led to the breaking up of Gresham col lege and the dispersion of its professors, whereupon Wren prudently withdrew himself from public life until affairs became somewhat settled. On the return of Charles II. Wren was appointed Savilian professor at Oxford ; and, on the 15th of July, 1662, he enjoyed the satisfaction of witnessing the incorporation of the Royal society by a charter chiefly obtained through his exertions. To the interests of this society he continued throughout life warmly devoted, and the first volumes of its transactions bear ample testimony to the zeal, industry, and diversified attainments of this accomplished man. His contributions are chiefly in the exact sciences, and especially astronomy. Amongst his dis coveries in the arts, some biographers attribute to him — and not Prince Rupert — the invention of mezzotinto engraving. He appears also to have paid occasional court to the muses, and with some success, if we may trust his own correspondent, the bishop of Rochester, who, in a letter to Wren, alluding to some translations of Horace, says : " You have admirably well hit his genius ; your verse is harmonious, your philosophy very instructive for life, your liberty in translating enough to make it seem to be an English original, and yet not so much but that the mind of the author is still religiously observed." A higher encomium than this could hardly be passed upon a translator ; but without supposing that Wren deserved it all, we are still warranted to infer that his translations were exceedingly respectable. In 1662, his ' Prtelectiones Academicae' were published. About this time he appears to have received the suffrages of every man of talent in England, as one of the most accomplished philosophers of his age. Barrow, Wallis, Huygens, and Newton, speak of him in the very highest terms of com mendation. In 1665 Wren went to Paris for the purpose of studying specimens of its finer architecture. He had already, indeed, exercised his skill in that art which was destined to confer on him his highest and most lasting distinction. As assistant or deputy to Sir John Denham, who proved himself a better poet than architect, he had superintended some of the government works; and, in 1663, he had been employed by Sheldon to erect a new theatre or hall for the university of Oxford. This latter building — celebrated for its unrivalled roof, eighty feet in length by seventy in breadth, supported without either arch or pillar — was begun in that year, although not completed till 1668. He had also been appointed, in 1663, one of the commissioners for superintending the projected repairs on the metropolitan cathedral of St Paul's. The destruction of that building by the great fire which broke out on the 22d of September, 1666, within a few months after Wren's return from Paris, put a stop to the plans for its repair, but opened up a better oppor tunity for the display of his genius and skill as an architect. Wren beheld and seized his opportunity. While the ashes of the vast confla gration were yet alive, he had conceived and sketched a plan for the restoration of the city, which, had it been carried into effect, would have rendered London the finest city in the world. " He proposed one main street from Aldgate to Temple bar, in the middle of which was to have been a large square capable of containing the new church of St Paul, with a proper distance for the view all round. The parish-churches Pmtior.] SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 377 were to be rebuilt so as to be seen at the end of every vista of houses, and dispersed at sufficient distances from each other. Four piazzas were designed at proper distances ; and lastly, the houses were to be aniform, surrounded by arcades like those in Covent-garden ; while,' by the water side a large quay was to run, along which were to be ranged the halls belonging to the several companies, with warehouses and other appropriate mercantile buildings."' , The necessity of instantly providing shelter for the homeless population of the city, prevented the adoption of Wren's magnificent plan, which, it is obvious, could not have been carried into effect without considerable delay in adjusting the rights of the different proprietors. On the 20th of March, 1669, a few days after the death of Sir John Denham, Wren was appointed surveyor-general of the royal works. In 1672 he. presented to the king his plans for the new cathedral, having, in the meantime, executed various minor buildings connected with the re storation ofthe city. The design for the new cathedral, which had been approved by the king, and to which the architect himself gave a de cided preference, was unfortunately objected to by his brother-commis sioners, who regarded it as involving too wide a departure from the usual form of cathedrals. They insisted, therefore, on the addition of aisles at the sides as they now stand, and Wren, though he actually shed tears in remonstrating against the alteration, was compelled to adopt it. The original design, as exhibited in a beautiful model made by Wren, and kept in the present cathedral, has been pronounced by all competent judges to be greatly superior in beauty and effect to the building in its present plan. It is also to be regretted that the archi tect should have been compelled tq adopt two orders instead of one ; but this he was necessitated to do by the want of blocks sufficiently large for the columns in his original model, in which he had employed only one order. With all these drawbacks, however, on the plan as originally conceived by Wren, St Paul's still remains the noblest eccle siastical edifice in Europe after Michael Angelo's unrivalled edifice of St Peter's at. Rome. " Its scale and beauty of internal ornament, as well as material, situation, and climate, the work of Wren cannot come in competition with its great rival; but in architectural excellence it has fair claims to be placed on an equality,— surpassing it in some things, if in others it falls short. The portico in front of St Peter's, both for its beauty of proportion and vast size, is admitted to be a fea ture of high excellence, and without any match in St Paul's : yet the- whole front of St Peter's, terminating in a straight line at the top, cannot be said to afford such a pleasing variety as is bestowed by the elevation of the pediment in the middle, and the beautiful campanile towers at each end of the front of St Paul's. One of the happiest parts of the invention is in the intersection of the three vistas of the nave, the aisles, and the cross and transept, attained by the octangular arrangement of the piers, which is as beautiful as it is novel, giving, four additional views to the usual arrangement, and with an effect re markable for its boldness and lightness. ... In St Peter's the whole building is surrounded by a repetition of vast pilasters. In St Paul's, however, take the building in any point of view, it is highly 1 Life of Sir C. Wren in * Library of Useful Knowledge.' iv. 3 b 378 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth picturesque, the different returns and facades affording endless variety of views ; no patching, no incongruous additions, disfigure the unity of the composition, which, as a whole, for harmony of design and justness of proportion, has certainly never been surpassed. The first stone of this noble edifice was laid by Wren, assisted by his master- mason, Mr Thbmas Strong, on the 21st of June, 1675. The highest stone of the lantern on the cupola was laid by Christopher Wren, the son ofthe architect, as representing his venerable father, in 1710. It was thus completed in thirty-five years by one architect, and at the comparatively small cost of £736;000, which was raised by a small impost on coals brought into London, whilst St Peter's took one hun dred and forty-five years to build, and employed a succession of twelve architects in its progress. Wren had been knighted at Whitehall on the 20th of November, 1673, after having resigned the Savilian professorship. He was twice in parliament, but does not appear to have signalised himself as a speaker, or taken any active part in the politics of the day. In 1680 he was elected president of the Royal society. The rewards, however, which this distinguished genius and most estimable man received, were only honorary. As architect of St Paul's, he received only £200 a- year of salary, and even the payment of this pittance was interrupted for some time by the interference ofthe narrow-minded commissioners, who took advantage of a clause in the act under which they sat, entitl ing them to keep back a moiety of the architect's salary till the work should be finished to their satisfaction. An attempt was even made to blacken his character by charging him with peculation in his office as architect of St Paul's, — a charge which, we need scarcely add, was instantly and triumphantly refuted by Sir Christopher. The death of . Anne deprived Wren of the last of his royal patrons. German influ ence prevailed in the dispensing of all courtly favours ; and to the eter nal disgrace of the new reign, this eminent and amiable man, in the 49th year of his office as surveyor-general, and the 86th year of a life spent in promoting the best interests of his country and mankind, was deprived of his patent in favour of one Benson, a ' favourite of foreign ers.' Sir Christopher bore his reverses with fortitude and resignation. He retired to his residence at Hampton court, and spent the remaining five years of his life chiefly in the study of the Scriptures. According to his son's testimony, " the vigour of his mind continued, with a vi vacity rarely found in persons of his age, till within a short period of his death. And not till then could he quit the great aim of his whole life, to be — to use his own words — a benefactor to mankind : his great humanity appearing to the last in benevolence and complacency, free from all moroseness in behaviour or aspect. He was happily endued with such an evenness of temper, steady tranquillity, and Christian fortitude, that no injurious incidents or inquietudes of human life could ever ruffle or discompose." 3 He died calmly, and without a struggle, on the 25th of February, 1723. His remains were deposited in the crypt under the southernmost window of the cathedral of St Paul's. No monument marks his place of sepulture ; but on the side of the window of the crypt is a tablet with this inscription : — " Life of Sir C. Wren In ' Library of Useful Knowledge. » Parentalia. Period.] THOMAS d'urfey. 379 Subtus conditur Hujus ecclesiae et urbis conditor Ch. Wren. Qui vixit annos ultra nonaginta Non sibi sed bono publico. Lector, si monumentum quaesis, Circumspice. tILTjomaa WWLtttg* DIED A. D. 1723. Thomas D'Urfey was a native of Devonshire, and bred to the pro fession of the law, " which he forsook," says Hawkins, " under a per suasion, which some poets, and even players, have been very ready to entertain as an excuse for idleness, and an indisposition to sober re flection, viz. that the law is a study so dull that no man of genius can submit to it. With a full confidence in the powers of a mind thus liberally formed," continues Sir John, " D'Urfey enlisted himself in the service of the stage, and became an author of tragedies, comedies, and operas, of which he wrote near thirty. The success of his dramatic productions far exceeded their deserts ; for, whether we consider the language, the sentiments, or the morals of his plays, they are in all these respects so exceptionable as to be below criticism, and to leave him in possession of that character only which he seemed most to affect, to wit, that of a pleasant companion. The time when D'Urfey lived was very favourable to men of his factious, and, we may say, licentious turn of manners. He came into the world a few years after the Res toration, when all was joy and merriment, and when to be able to drink and to sing were reckoned estimable qualities ; D'Urfey could do both ; and, superadded to these gifts, he had a talent of poetry, which he could adapt to any occasion ; he wrote songs, and, though unskilled in music, and labouring under the impediment of stammering in his speech, having a tolerable voice, sung them himself frequently at public feasts and meetings, and not seldom in the presence of King Charles II. who, laying aside all state and reserve, would lean on his shoulder and look over the paper," The compositions of D'Urfey, such of them at least as were not liable' to exception on account of gross indelicacy, became favourites with the whole kingdom. Addison, in a paper in the Guardian, after ex hibiting a lively portrait of D'Urfey, whom he is pleased to call his old friend and contemporaiy, says, speaking to the ladies, his disciples, that he often made their grandmothers merry ; and that his sonnets had perhaps lulled asleep many a toast among the ladies then living, when she lay in her cradle. And in another number of the Guardian, is a notification to the reader that a play of D'Urfey 's, ' The Plotting Sisters,' which had been honoured with the presence of Charles lis three of its first five nights, was then shortly to be acted for his benefit, conclnding with a recommendation of it as a pleasant entertainment. Three volumes, consisting mostly of songs written by himself, were published by D'Urfey, with the singular title of ' Laugh and be Fat, or Pills to purge Melancholy.' In the year 1719, with the assist- 380 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth ance of a numerous subscription, he republished them, with the addi tion of other three volumes, including a great number of orations, po ems, prologues, and epilogues written by himself, and gave the whole collection the title of ' Wit and Mirth, or Pills to purge Melancholy ; being a Collection of the best merry Ballads and Songs, old and new, fitted to all humours ; having each their proper Tune for either Voice or Instrument.' In this collection, besides a great number of singular humorous songs, are many that bespeak the political sentiments of their author. Tom, at least in the early part of his life, was a tory by principle, and never let slip an opportunity of representing his adver saries, the whigs, as a set of sneaking rascals. Mr Addison says that the song of ' Joy to great Csesar,' gave them such a blow as they were never able to recover during the reign of Charles II. The paper in which these and other passages equally humorous, respecting D'Urfey and his compositions are contained, was written by Mr Addison with a view to fill the house at a play of his in June 1713. It concludes with the following sketch of D'Urfey. ",As my friend, after the manner of the old lyrists, accompanies his works with his own voice, he has been the delight of the most polite companies and conver sations, from the beginning of King Charles the second's; reign to our present times. Many an honest gentleman has got a reputation in his country by pretending to have been in company with Tom D'Urfey. I might here mention several other iperits in my friend, as his enrich ing our language with a multitude of rhymes, and bringing words togeth er that without his good offices would never have been acquainted with one another so long as it had been a tongue. But I must not omit that my old friend angles for a trout the best of any man in England. May-flies come in late this season, or I myself should before now have had a trout of his hooking. After what I have said, and much more that I might say on this subject, I question not but the world will think that my old friend ought not to pass the remainder of his life in a cage like a singing-bird, but enjoy all the Pindarick liberty which is suita ble to a man of his genius. He has madejdie world merry, and I hope they will make him easy so long as he stays among us. This I will take upon me to say, they cannot do a kindness to a more diverting companion, or a more cheerful, honest and good-natured man." This merry fellow died on the 26th of February, 1723. %!umpf)tt£ Vrifcaux, 9*19* BORN A.D. 1648. — DIED A.D. 1724. This very learned ecclesiastical writer was the third son of Edmund Prideaux of Padstow in Cornwall. After receiving the rudiments of education at Leskiard and Bodmin in his native county, he was sent to Westminster school, then under the charge of Dr Busby. Here he was chosen king's scholar, and elected to Christ-church, Oxford. His first literary effort was the superintendence, under Dr Fell, of an edition of Florus. Two years afterwards, on the arrival of the ¦Arundelian marbles at Oxford, Prideaux was appointed to draw up and publish an account of them, which he did very successfully, in a work Period.] HUMPHREY PRIDEAUX. 381 entitled, ' Marmora Oxoniensia,' Oxford, 1676. In 1679, Chancellor Finch presented our author with the rectory of St Clement's, Oxford The same year Prideaux published two tracts out of Maimonides in Hebrew, to which he added a Latin translation and annotations. The book bears the title of ' De jure Pauperis, et Peregrini apud Judseos.' This he did in consequence of his having been appointed Dr Busby's Hebrew lecturer in the college of Christ-church; and his principal view in printing this book was to introduce young students in the Hebrew language to the knowledge of the Rabbinical dialect, and to teach them to read it without points. In 1681 Prideaux received a prebend in the cathedral of Norwich ; and next year he was instituted to the rectory of Bladen-cum- Wood stock, which he afterwards exchanged for that of Saham in Norfolk. " From the time," says the author of a life of Prideaux, published in 1748, " that he was Master of Arts and a tutor in the college, he was always very zealous and diligent in reforming such disorders and cor ruptions as had from time to time crept into it ; and made all opportu nities in his power for suppressing them. This of course drew on him the ill will of many of his fellow-collegians, as must always happen to those who endeavour at the reformation of discipline. But at the same time he had the friendship and esteem of the best men, and such whose reputation was highest in the university ; particularly of Bishop Fell ; Dr Pocock, the learned Hebrew and Arabic professor ; Dr Mar shall, dean of Gloucester and rector of Lincoln college ; Dr Bernard, Savilian professor of astronomy ; Dr Mills, the editor of the Greek Testament ; Dr Henry Godolphin, late dean of St Paul's ; Mr Guise of All Souls college, and many other learned and valuable men." Soon after the death of Bishop Fell, Dr Prideaux left Oxford, and retired to his prebend, where he soon began to distinguish himself by his determined opposition to popery. In 1688 he was collated to the archdeaconry of Suffolk. He was also recommended to the bishopric of Norwich by the bishops of London and St Asaph ; but declined the appointment. In 1697 he published a life of Mahomet, which passed through three editions the same year. About this time also he pro jected a history of the Saracen empire, of which, however, his life of the Arabian impostor was the only portion which he completed. In 1702 he succeeded Dr Fairfax in the deanery of Norwich. In 1715 he published the first part ofhis celebrated * Connection of the History of the Old and New Testament.' The second part ap peared in 1717. Dr Prideaux died in 1724. " He was naturally," says his bio grapher, " of a very strong, robust constitution, which enabled him to pursue his studies with great assiduity ; and notwithstanding his close application and sedentary manner of life, enjoyed great vigour both of body and mind for many years together, till he was seized with the unhappy distemper of the stone. His parts were very good, rather solid than lively. His judgment excellent. As a writer he is clear, strong, and intelligent, without any pomp of language, or ostentation of eloquence. His conversation was a good deal of the same kind, learned and instructive, with a conciseness of expression on many oc casions, which to those who were not well acquainted with him, had sometimes the appearance of rusticity. In his manner of life he was 382 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTH very regular and temperate, being seldom out of his bed after ten at night, and generally rose to his studies before five in the morning. His manners were sincere and candid. He generally spoke his mind with freedom and boldness, and was not easily diverted from pursuing what he thought right. In his friendships he was constant and invariable ; to his family was an affectionate husband, a tender and careful father, and greatly esteemed by his friends and relations, as he was very ser viceable to them on all occasions. As a clergyman, he was strict and punctual in the performance of all the duties of his function himself, and carefully exacted the same from the inferior clergy and canons of his church. In party-matters, so far as he was concerned, always showed himself firmly attached to the interest of the protestant cause and principles of the Revolution, but without joining in with the vio lence of parties, or promoting those factions and divisions which pre vailed both in the church and state during the greater part of his life. His integrity and moderation, which should have recommended him to some of the higher stations in the church, were manifestly the occasion of his being neglected ; for busy party zealots and men more conver sant in the arts of a court, were easily preferred over him, whose high est and only ambition was carefully to perform what was incumbent on him in every station in life, and to acquit himself of his duty to his God, his friends and his country." Mt &o$n Fan6ruj3$. DIED A.D. 1726. The family of this ingenious architect and successful dramatic poet was originally from Ghent in Flanders, Giles Vanbrugh, or Vanburg, the grandfather of Sir John, fled from his native country when deso lated by the persecuting duke of Alva, and, coming to England, settled as a merchant in London, where he died in 1646. His son, the father of our poet, acquired an ample fortune as a sugar-baker in Chester, and married the fifth daughter of Sir Dudley Carleton of Imbercourt in Surrey, by whom he had eight sons, the second of whom was John, who was probably born about the middle of the reign of Charles II. We have no account of his education ; but it probably was liberal, and suited to the rank and circumstances of his family. At an early age he entered the army, in which he, for a short time, bore an en sign's commission. Happening to become acquainted with Sir Thomas Skipwith, who possessed a share in a theatrical patent, the young offi cer confessed to him that he occasionally paid his court to the muse of comedy, and showed him the outlines of two plays, which Sir Thomas encouraged him to finish. One of these, ' The Relapse,' was brought out in 1697, and, notwithstanding the gross indecencies with which it abounded, its success was so great that Vanbrugh abandoned the pro fession of arms for that of belles lettres. In 1698 he brought out ' The Provoked Wife,' which was equally well-received as the former, though equally immoral in its tendency, and indelicate in its expression. In the same year he produced his comedy of ' JEsop ;' but this was pretty nearly a failure. ' The False Friend' was acted in 1702. Period.] sir JOHN VANBRUGH. 383 In 1706, when the Haymarket theatre was finished, Betterton and his associates placed it under the management of Vanbrugh and Con greve, ^ who, in order to humour the prevailing taste, commenced the campaign with a translated opera, set to Italian music, called * The Triumph of Love ;' but it was coldly received, and lingered out only three nights to thin and disapproving audiences. Immediately after this failure, Vanbrugh produced his comedy called ' The Confederacy,' which was a translation with improvements from the ' Bourgeois a la Mode' of Dancour. This was a better hit than the preceding. Con greve having given up his share and interest in the theatre to his asso ciate, Vanbrugh was now under an imperious necessity to exert him self, and in one season produced three other imitated pieces from the French. These were, ' The Cuckold in Conceit,' ' Squire Treelooby,' and ' The Mistake.' Soon after this he too retired from the management of the theatre. His last comedy, ' The Journey to London,' was only left in outline. Cibber filled it up with tolerable success. Hazlitt says of Sir John : — " He is no writer at all as to mere au thorship, but he makes up for it by a prodigious fund of comic inven tion and ludicrous description, bordering somewhat on caricature. He has none of Congreve's graceful refinement, and as little of Wycher ley 's serious manner and studied insight into the springs of character ; but his exhibition of it, in dramatic contrast, and unlooked-for situa tions, — where the different parties play upon one another's feelings, and into one another's hands, keeping up the jest like a game of battledore and shuttlecock, and urging it to the utmost verge of breathless extra vagance, — is beyond that of any other writer. His fable is not so pro foundly learned, nor his characters so well designed as Wycherley 's, who in these respects bore some resemblance to Fielding. Vanbrugh does not lay the same deliberate train from the outset to the conclusion, so that the whole may hang together, and lead inevitably from the combination of different agents and circumstances, to the same decisive point ; but he works out scene after scene on the spur of the occasion, and, from the immediate hold they take of his imagination at the mo ment, without any previous bias or ultimate purpose, much more powerfully and in a wider vein of invention. His fancy warms and burnishes out as if he were engaged in the real scene of action, and felt all his faculties suddenly called forth to meet the emergency. He has more nature than art. He has a masterly eye to the advantages which certain accidental situations of character present to him on the spot ; and he executes the most difficult and rapid theatrical movements at a minute's warning." It remains for us to add a brief notice of Sir John in his architec tural capacities. At what time he began to exercise the profession of an architect does not appear. His principal buildings are Blenheim, Castle Howard in Yorkshire, and St John's church in Westminster. In his, style Sir John frequently attempts to blend the Gothic and Gre cian ; and the effect this produced is seldom happy. Pope said of Sir John's writings, ' Van wants grace ;' and Horace Walpole applies the saying to his buildings also. But Sir Joshua Reynolds contends for Vanbrugh 's originality of invention, and great skill in composition. " In the buildings of Vanbrugh," says the learned president, " there is a greater display of imagination ban we shall find perhaps in any 384 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth other ; and this is the ground of the effect which we feel in many of his works, notwithstanding the faults with which many of them are justly charged. For this purpose Vanbrugh appears to have had re course to some principles of the Gothic architecture ; which, though not so ancient as the Grecian, is more so to our imagination, with which the artist is more concerned than with absolute truth." Gilpin's remarks on the architecture of Blenheim-house are worth quot ing. " The heaviness and enormity of Blenheim castle," says he, " have been greatly criticised ; perhaps too severely. We may be too much big- otted to Greek and Roman architecture. It was adapted often to local convenience. Under an Italian sun, for instance, it was of great import ance to exclude warmth, and give a current to air. The portico was well adapted to this purpose. A slavish imitation also of antique or naments may be carried into absurdity. When we see the skulls of oxen adorning a heathen temple, we acknowledge their propriety. But it is rather unnatural to introduce them in a Christian church, where sacrifice would be an offence. We are fettered also too much by or ders and proportions. The ancients themselves paid no such close at tention to them. Our modern code was collected by average calcula tions from their works ; by Sansovine particularly, and Palladio. But if these modern legislators of the art had been obliged to produce pre cedents, they could not have found any two buildings among the re mains of ancient Rome, which were exactly of the same proportions. I would not, by any means, wish to shake off the wholesome restraint of those laws of art which have been made rules, because they were first reasons. All I mean is, to apologise for Vanbrugh. For though it may be difficult to please in any other form of architecture than what we see in daily use ; yet in an art which has not nature for its model, the mind recoils with disdain at the idea of an exclusive system. The Greeks did not imagine, that when they had invented a good thing, the faculty was exhausted, and incapable of producing another. Where should we have admired, at this day, the beauty of the Ionic order, if, after the Doric had been invented, it had been considered as the ne plus ultra of art ; and every deviation from its proportions reprobated as barbarous innovations? Vanbrugh's attempt, therefore, seems to have been an effort of genius : and if we can keep the imagination apart from the five orders, we must allow that he has created a magnificent whole; which is invested with an air of grandeur seldom seen in a more regular style of building. Its very defects, except a few that are too glaring to be overlooked, give it an appearance of something beyond common ; and as it is surrounded with great objects, the eye is struck with the whole, and takes the parts upon trust. What made Vanbrugh ridiculous, was his applying to small houses a style of architecture which could not possibly succeed but in a large one. In a small house, where the grandeur of a whole cannot be attempted, the eye is at lei sure to contemplate parts, and meets with frequent occasion of disgust."' 1 ' Observations on the Mountains and Lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland.' P*mc«>.] 385 »mam Croft. DIED A.D. 1727. The limits of our work necessarily preclude us &om noticing many names of considerable eminence in science and literature, especially in the department of music. We could with pleasure have enlarged our brief notices of such men as Purcell, Aldrich, and Blow ; and devoted separate articles to other names, such as the elder Hall, organist of Hereford, who died in 1707, whose anthems are still much esteemed; Jeremiah Clark, an excellent church composer ; and John Weldon, who confined himself almost entirely to the composition of church music. To these names might be added those of the Eccleses, Dr Tudway, Britton the small-coal man, Weldon, Isham, and many others. The subject ofthe present memoir was a native of Nether Eatington in Warwickshire. He was educated in the royal chapel under Dr Blow, and in 1707 became organist of the chapel royal. The next year he succeeded his master as organist of St Peter's, Westminster. In 1715 he was created doctor in music by the university of Oxford. His exercise for the degree was published, under the title of 'Musicus Apparatus Academicus.' In 1724, Dr Croft published his ' Musica Sacra, or Select Anthems in score.' This noble work consists of two volumes, the first containing the burial service, which Purcell had be gun but did not live to finish. In the preface, Croft says of this work, that it is the first essay in music-printing of the kind, that is, in score, and engraven or stamped on plates, and that, for want of some such contrivance, all the music hitherto published in England had proved very incorrect and defective.1 The ' Musica Sacra ' contains a num ber of thanksgiving anthems, composed by Croft on the occasion of different victories obtained by the English arms during the reign of Queen Anne. One of the finest of these is that of 1708, ' Sing unto the Lord.' Among his other anthems, the most admired are, ' O Lord, rebuke me not,' ' God is gone up,' and ' O Lord, thou hast searched me out.' 1 The practice of music-printing from copper plates seems to have been begun in Italy about the middle of the 17th century. ir 3o 386 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth Mt $saat Netotum BORN A. D. 1642. — DIED A. D. 1727. Sir Isaac Newton, the father of the physical philosophy of modern times, and the greatest mathematical genius that ever lived, was the son of Isaac Newton, lord of the manor of Woolsthorpe, in the parish of Colsterworth in Lincolnshire, and of his wife, Hannah Ayscough. He was born on the 25th of December, 1642, (O. S.) at the manor- h ouse of Woolsthorpe, which lies embosomed among hills, a short dis tance to the west of the great northern road from London, and about six. miles south from the town of Grantham. In the ' Gentleman's Magazine' for 1778, vol. xlviii. p. 64, is given an engraving, professing to represent the house in which Newton first saw the light : and in the same publication for 1781, vol. li. p. 414, we are presented with a plan of the interior of the same edifice, in which one of the rooms, occupy ing one-half of the upper story, to the left of the door, is marked as ' that in which this event actually took place. But — as we shall have occasion to notice again below — the house from which these drawings have been taken, and which is still standing, was not built till some years after Newton's birth. He was an only and a posthumous child, his father having died at the age of 36, about three months before he came into the world. A writer of the name of Thomas Maude, author of a poem entitled ' Wensley Dale, or Rural Contemplations,' published iu 1772, who professes to give the world some original anecdotes re specting the infaficy and boyhood of Newton, tells us that his father was " a weak and extravagant man ;" but we cannot put much confi dence in this information, inasmuch as the relater seems to know so little ofthe true history ofthe person whose character he thus describes, as to charge h;m with neglecting the education of his son, who, as we have just seen, was not born till nearly a quarter of a year after his decease. The estate which Newton inherited from his father was worth about £30 per annum, as we are informed by a letter from Dr Stukeley to Dr Mead, dated 26th June, 1727, a part of which was published in the ' Gentleman's Magazine' for 1772, vol. xiii. p. 520, and which has since been printed in a complete form in Mr Tumor's splendid volume, entitled ' Collections for the History of the Town and Soke of Gran tham.' As this work, which was published in 1806, is extremely scarce, we may here mention that the portion of its contents relating to Newton is to be found reprinted nearly entire in the fourth volume of the late Mr Nichols's ' Illustrations of the Literary History of the Eighteenth century.' Newton — Stukeley in this letter also informs us — inherited, besides his paternal acres, another property at Sustem, in the same neighbourhood, of larger extent, and worth about £50 per annum. This came to him from his mother's family. As for the New- tons, Stukeley's account is " that they had held the manor of Wools thorpe ever since the time of Elizabeth, having purchased it from one of the Cecils." Mr Conduitt, who supplied Fontenelle with the materi als from which the latter composed his JEloge on the English philoso pher, asserts that Newton's father was descended from the eldest branch Pxmod.] ISAAC NEWTON. 3^7 of the family of Sir John Newton, a baronet ofthe game county, and this statement has been adopted by most succeeding biographers. The family, Mr Conduitt adds, came to Woolsthorpe from Westley, also in Lincolnshire, but originally from Newton in Lancashire. It appears from some letters which have been published, that the Sir John Newton here mentioned was at all events not unwilling to acknowledge Newton as one of his kindred, after his great discoveries had raised the latter to fame and eminence. Sir Isaac himself too states, in the pedi gree which he gave in to the college of arms on his being knighted, that he had always, from his boyhood, understood himself to be a re lation of this baronet. His father Isaac he makes in that account to be the eldest son of Robert Newton of Woolsthorpe, who died on the 20th September, 1641, and who was the son of a Richard Newton of the same place, who died in 1588. The father of Richard was, he says, a John Newton of Westley, who died in 1563, the son of another John Newton of the same place. This genealogy, however, is confessedly compiled merely from incidental notices in parish-registers, which record only the deaths of the several persons mentioned, without stating their relationship. By Mr Tumor's account, which may probably be de pended upon as accurate, the manor of Woolsthorpe was in the posses sion of the Thimblebys of Corby from 1474 till 1562, from which time, till 1614, it was held by the Burys of Ashwell, from whom it was pur chased by a Robert Underwood, who demised it to Robert Newton in 1623. This must have been the grandfather of Sir Isaac. We have entered with the more minuteness into the examination of this matter, in consequence ofthe additional interest which has of late been attached to the question of Newton's descent by the publication of certain state ments which would make it appear that he was of Scottish extraction. In No. iii. of the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal, published in July 1820, there is given a letter, dated Glasgow 12th April, 1792, from Dr Reid to Dr John Robison, in which the writer relates, that some time about the year 1760, before he left Aberdeen, he was informed by Mr Douglas of Fechel, who was father ofthe late Lord Glenbervie, that Mr Hepburn of Keith had told him he had heard James Gregory, professor of mathematics in Edinburgh, say that Newton himself had mentioned to him upon one occasion when they met in London, that he was of Scottish descent. His grandfather, he said he had learned, had come from one of the Lothians with James VI. to London, where he had spent the greater part of his fortune in an unrewarded attend ance upon the court. Reid afterwards ascertained from Hepburn him self, and also from a Mr Keith, that they had frequently heard Gregory tell this story. He was also informed that there still survived several children of a Sir John Newton of Newton in one of the Lothians — he could not recollect which — who remembered that their father had once received a letter from Sir Isaac, requesting to have an account of his family, of which, however, the proud old knight had never thought it worth his while to take anj* notice. Such is the substance of Dr Reid's letter. It seems to be scarcely possible to doubt that Newton had really given Gregory this account of his ancestor. The conversation in which it was communicated probably took place towards the end of Sir Isaac's life, and long after he had drawn up, from the best information which he then possessed, the pedigree which he gave in (in 1705) to 388 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth the college of arms. It appears from his papers, still in existence, that he felt great curiosity to ascertain the history of his family, having given directions at one time that every notice respecting individuals of his name that could be found in the parish-registers of the neighbourhood of his birth-place, should be extracted and transmitted to him. The story of his ancestor having been a Scotsman, he may possibly have obtained in answer to these inquiries. At all events, it is rather con firmed than otherwise, by the fact stated by Mr Turnor, that the New- tons did not come into possession of Woolsthorpe till ] 623, and by the evidently conjectural nature of all that portion of the family-genealogy as commonly given, which refers to the supposed progenitors of Sir Isaac's grandfather. When Newton was born, he was so little, as it seems he had often heard his mother say, " that they might have put him into a great mug, and so unlikely to live, that two women, who were sent to Lady Pak- enham's at North Witham for something for him, did not expect to find him alive on their return." So Mr Conduitt has recorded on Sir Isaac's own authority, in a note which Mr Turnor has printed. On the 27th of January, 1645, his mother married the Reverend Barnabas Smith, minister of the neighbouring parish of North Witham ; but her son was left at Woolsthorpe under the care of his grandmother Ayscough. At the usual age he was put to a day-school, first at Skillington and afterwards at Stoke, remaining at the latter till he had reached his twelfth year. He was then sent to the endowed grammar-school of Grantham, boarding in that town at the house of a Mr Clarke, an apothecary. " Every one that knew Sir Isaac," writes Dr Stukeley, " or have heard Speak of him, here recount the pregnancy of his parts when a boy, — his strange inventions, and extraordinary inclination for mechanics, that, instead of playing among the other boys when from school, he always busied himself in making knickknacks and models of wood in many kinds ; for which purpose he had got little saws, hatch ets, hammers, and a whole shop of tools, which he would use with great dexterity. In particular, they speak of his making a wooden clock. About this time a new windmill was set up near Grantham, in the way to Gunnerby, which is now demolished, this country chiefly using water-mills. Our lad's imitating spirit was soon excited, and by frequently prying into the fabric of it as they were making it, he be came master enough to make a very perfect model thereof, and it was said to be as clean and curious a 'piece of workmanship as the original. This sometimes he would set upon the house-top where he lodged, and clothing it with sail-cloth, the wind would readily turn it ; but what was most extraordinary in its composition, was that he put a mouse into it which he called the miliar, and that the mouse made the mill turn ro und when he pleased ; and he would joke too upon the miliar eating the corn that was put in. Some say that he tied a string to the mouse's tail, which was put into a wheel like that of turnspit dogs, so that pull ing the string made the mouse go forward by way of resistance, and this turned the mill. Others suppose there was some corn placed above the wheel, this the mouse endeavouring to get to made it turn. More over, Sir Isaac's water-clock is much talked of. This he made out of a box he begged of Mr Clarke— his landlord's wife's brother. As described to me, it resembled pretty much our common clocks and Pebiod.] ISAAC NEWTON. 389 clock-cases, but less ; for it was not above four feet in length, and of a proportionable breadth. There was a dial-plate at top with figures for the hours. The index was turned by a piece of wood, which either fell or rose by water dropping. This stood in the room where he lay, and he took care every morning to supply it with its proper quantity of water ; and the family upon occasion would go to see what was the hour by it." The same gossipping chronicler, retailing the information which he derived from the old people of the neighbourhood, goes on to relate that among other evidences which the young philosopher gave of his mechanical genius were his experiments upon paper-kites. " He took great pains," they say, " in finding out their proportions and figures, and whereabouts the string should be fastened to the greatest advan tage, and in how many places. Likewise he first made lanterns of pa per crimpled, which he used to go to school by in winter mornings with a eandle, and tied them to the tails of the kites in a dark night, which at first affrighted the country people exceedingly, thinking they were comets." He also, it seems, used to drive pegs into the walls and roof of the house to mark the course of the sun ; and these con trivances the people used to call familiarly " Isaac's dials." This prac tice of drawing sun-dials on the walls he appears to have continued after he left school, and returned to Woolsthorpe. The house here was rebuilt by Mr Smith, as it now stands, sometime after his marriage with Newton's mother ; and some of these dials are still to be seen upon the walls. He also, while at Grantham, exercised himself in drawing, al though he does not seem to have had any one to give him instructions in that art. Some of his performances in this line were upon paper, which he inserted in wooden frames, fashioned and neatly painted by himself. Others were drawn upon the walls of his room, which, ac cordingly, when Clarke's house was taken down about 1710, were covered with " birds, beasts, men, ships, and mathematical schemes," very skilfully delineated. It is likewise worthy of remark, that, in his youth, Sir Isaac was an expert versifier. One specimen at least of nis talents in that line is preserved. When Stukeley was making his in quiries he met a Mrs Vincent, a widow gentlewoman living in that neighbourhood, and then eighty-two years of age. Her mother had been Clarke's second wife, and she had been an inmate of the same house with Newton during the seven years he boarded with her step father. " She says," continues Stukeley, " Sir Isaac was always a sober, silent, thinking lad, and was never known scarce to play with the boys abroad at their silly amusements, but would rather choose to be at home even among the girls, and would frequently make little tables, cupboards, and other utensils for her and her playfellows, to set their babies and trinkets on. She mentions likewise a cart he made with four wheels, wherein he would sit, and by turning a windlass about, he could make it carry him round the room where he pleased." " Sir Isaac and she," proceeds the Doctor, " being thus brought up together, 'tis said that he entertained a love for her ; nor does she deny it ; but her portion being not considerable, and he being a fellow of a college, it was incompatible with his fortunes to marry, perhaps his studies too. 'Tis certain he always had a kindness for her, visited her whenever in the country, in both her husbands' days, and gave her 40s. upon a time whenever it was of service to her. She is a little woman, 390 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth but we may with ease discern that she has been very handsome." To these curious details we may add an anecdote mentioned by Mr Con- duitt. " Sir Isaac," says this gentleman, " used to relate that he was very negligent at school, and very low in it, till the boy above him gave him a kick on the belly, which put him to a great deal of pain. Not content ' with having thrashed his adversary, Sir Isaac could not rest till he had got before him in the school, and from that time he continued rising till he was the head boy." Mrs Smith's husband, however, having died in 1656, she then re turned to Woolsthorpe, and some time after she brought home her son from school, intending that he should reside upon and farm his own property. The attempt to make the future explorer of the heavens a tiller of the ground was persevered in for a short period with extremely little success. Stukeley relates the experiment and its results with in teresting minuteness of detail. " Accordingly," says the doctor, " we must suppose him attending the tillage, grazing, and the like. And they tell us, that he frequently came on Saturdays to Grantham mar ket with corn and other commodities to sell, and to carry home what necessaries were proper to be bought at a market-town for a family ; but being young, his mother usually sent a trusty old servant along with him to put him into the way of business. Their inn was at the Saracen's Head in Westgate, where, as soon as they had set up their horses, Isaac generally left the man to manage the marketings, and re tired instantly to Mr Clarke's garret, where he used to lodge, near where lay a parcel of old books of Mr Clarke's, which he entertained himself with, whilst (until) it was time to go home again ; or else he would stop by the way between home and Grantham, and lie under a hedge studying, whilst the man went to town and did the business, and called upon him on his return ; no doubt the man made remonstrances of this to his mother. Likewise, when at home, if his mother ordered him into the field to look after the sheep, the corn, or upon any other rural employment, it went on very heavily through his manage. His chief delight was to sit under a tree, with a book in his hands, or to busy himself with his knife in cutting wood for models of somewhat or other that struck his fancy ; or he would get to a stream and make mill-wheels." M. Biot, in his life of Newton in the ' Biographie Uni verselle,' relates the following anecdote, which we give in the words of the translation of that memoir, published in the ' Library of Useful Knowledge.' — " One of his uncles having one day found him under a hedge, with a book in his hand, entirely absorbed in meditation, took it from him, and discovered that he was working a mathematical pro blem. Struck with finding so serious and decided a disposition in so young a person, he urged Newton's mother no longer to thwart him, but to send him once more to pursue his studies at Grantham." Dr Brewster, whose late Life of Newton in the ' Family Library,' is by far the most detailed and complete that has yet appeared, intimates that he has not been able to find any authority for this story. It is pro bably the same of which the author of 'Wensley Dale,' already men tioned, gives a somewhat different version. " It is reported," says this writer, " that a gentleman found him one day near Woolsthorpe in the character of a shepherd's boy, reading a book of practical geometry ; and that upon asking him some questions, he discovered such tokens of Pxjuod.] ISAAC NEWTON. 39] uncommon genius, that he applied to his mother, and strongly urged her to take the boy from the field and give him the education of a scholar, offering to assist in his maintenance if there should be occa sion." If such an offer was made, it is not probable that it was ac cepted of; but, at any rate, moved either by this application, or by her own observation of her son's habits, and evident bent of mind, it is certain that his mother, after a while, sent Newton once more to the grammar-school at Grantham, having now resolved to give him a learn ed education. He remained at Grantham for nine months longer, after which he was sent to Trinity college, Cambridge, on the re commendation of his mother's brother, the Reverend Wm. Ayscough, rector of the neighbouring parish of Burton Coggles, who had himself been a member of that society. Newton was admitted of Trinity col lege on the 5th of June, 1660, being now nearly seventeen years and a half old. We may here notice, that his mother, according to the common account, lived till the year 1 689 ; but there is strong reason to suspect that she died ten years earlier, the parish register of Colster- worth, (quoted by Mr Turnor, Collections, p. 155,) containing an entry of the burial of a Mrs Hannah Smith, on the 4th of June, 1679. The next six years form by far the most important portion of New ton's life, or rather a portion more important than all the rest of it together. Indeed, all the circumstances of the case considered, there certainly is not recorded in the annals of intellectual achievement any thing nearly so wonderful as the history of those six years of the life of Newton. Before, however, adverting to the rapid and extensive ca reer of conquest which his youthful genius completed in this brief space, we may notice the general account which Mr Conduitt gives us of his academic habits. " He always informed himself," we are told by this gentleman, " before-hand of the books his tutor intended to read, and when he came to the lectures, found he knew more of them than his tutor : the first books he read for that purpose were Sanderson's Logic, and Kepler's Optics." What first led him to study mathematics, according to the same authority, was a desire to know whether there was any thing in judicial astrology. His cool and sagacious under standing very soon satisfied itself, we may suppose, as to the preten sions of that soi-disant science. But he did not abandon geometry when he renounced astrology. On the contrary, his peculiar powers of mind thus awakened, pursued the congenial exercise they had found out, with what we may call almost breathless ardour, and with a suc cess which brilliantly demonstrated how perfectly they were at home iu this department of speculation. It is not recorded of Newton, as it is of Pascal, that he discovered, entirely by his own efforts, a succession of the elementary propositions of geometry ; but if he did not in this way dispense with the assistance of Euclid altogether, he did what was perhaps not less extraordinary, for he read that author as he would haye read a common history or tale, or rather he made himself, as he conceived, sufficiently master of the work, by merely (by the aid of an index, it is said) looking into a few of the leading demonstrations. He then proceeded at once to the geometry of Descartes, of the doc trines of which he speedily possessed himself without the aid of an instructor. It ought to be remarked, however, that Newton himself; in after life, did not look back with perfect satisfaction upon the haste 392 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth with which he had thus passed through the portal of mathematical science. He expressed his regret to Dr Pemberton, (as that writer in forms us in the preface to his ' View of the Newtonian Philosophy,) that he had given too slight a consideration to the principles of the pure geometry when he applied himself to the study of Descartes, and other algebraic writers. During the whole of his residence at the uni versity, " he spent the greatest part of his time," says Mr Conduitt, in another place, " in his closet ; and when he was tired with his se verer studies of philosophy, his relief and amusement was going to some other study, as history, chronology, divinity, and chemistry ; all which he examined and searched thoroughly, as appears by the many papers he has left on those subjects." In conformity with this ac count, we find Sir Isaac himself relating, in the paper which he in serted in the ' Philosophical Transactions' of 1725, on the surreptitious publication of his ' Chronology,' that when he lived at Cambridge, he used sometimes to refresh himself with history and chronology for a while when he was weary with other studies. He lived, in the most li teral sense of the expression, the life of a student, and had constantly both his book and his pen in his hand. His method was to make notes on the margin of the volume as he read ; and his books, Dr Pember ton states, were filled with these jottings, the purport of which was generally to suggest some improvement or extension of the views in the text. The same year that Newton entered the university of Cambridge as a student, the eminent Dr Isaac Barrow, having recently returned from his travels on the continent, was appointed to the professorship of Greek. Three years after, he exchanged his chair for that of the Lucasian professorship Of mathematics ; and in his new class he had Newton for one of his auditors. The latter had been admitted subsizer in 1661, and was advanced to the rank of scholar in 1664. Next year, he took his degree of bachelor of arts, and about the same time, stood a com petition for the law-fellowship of his college, the result of which was, that he, and a Mr Robert Uvedale, being found to be of equal merit; the fellowship was given to the latter as senior. Meanwhile, Newton had been pursuing his mathematical and physical studies with persever ing eagerness, and by the assiduous perusal ofthe works of Descartes, Kepler, Wallis, Oughtred, Van Schooten, and the other writers who were then the chief lights of modern science, had perfectly accom plished himself in all the methods of research and calculation of which geometricians and astronomers had as yet learned to avail themselves. Thus was the armour of the conqueror buckled on, and the necessary skill in the use of the several weapons he had to wield acquired. It appears, from a note in one of his papers, that in 1664 he purchased a prism, in order to verify some experiments mentioned by Descartes on the subject of colours. From this circumstance was destined to spring an entire new world of philosophic truth. There seems to be little reason to doubt, that before the year 1666, he had by means of his ex periments with his prism discovered the great fundamental doctrine ot the modern science of optics, the unequal Tefrangibility of the different rays of light, 'and also the principal conclusions which it involved. On this, however, as on all other occasions of the like kind, he was in no haste to publish what he had found out to the world. Either he wished Period.] ISAAC NEWTON. 393 to perfect his theory before exposing it to the attacks of criticism, or he felt so great and pure a delight in the solitary contemplation of the truth within his own breast, that the fame to be reaped by the pro mulgation of his discovery had not the usual attraction ; or, as has been also conjectured, he perhaps hoped, by retaining exclusive pos session of the new and valuable knowledge he had acquired, to keep himself, as it were, a-head of all his contemporaries and rivals in the further march of philosophic speculation. It is certain, at any rate, that after he had had some experience of scientific controversy, he ha bitually shrunk from it as that which of all things he dreaded and hated most ; and would, had it not been for the urgent entreaties and remonstrances of his friends, have altogether suppressed some of his most important investigations, rather than risk the opposition they were likely to encounter. In the unaffected modesty, also, which was so beautiful an attribute of his mighty intellect, he seems to have felt, both now, and after he was considerably older, . that he was still too young to come forward in the public gaze as a revolutionizer of phi losophy. But his discoveries on the subject of light were not the only fruits which appear, even at this early date, to have been gathered by his inventive genius. Even before he had directed his attention to that department of physics, the algebraical investigations to which he had been introduced by Dr Wallis's ' Arithmetica Infinitorum,' had conducted him to the discovery of his celebrated Binomial theorem ; and by deduction from that, of his grand instrument of analytical cal culation, the method of Fluxions. These discoveries he also refrained from communicating, actuated, in this instance at least, there can be little doubt, by the very justifiable wish to secure to himself not only his invention, but also certain of the results of its application, before surrendering it to common use. He therefore merely drew up an ex position of the subject in Latin, under the title of ' Analysis per cequa- tiones nutnero terminoram infinitas ;' and in the meanwhile deposited the manuscript in his desk. Such were the high occupations with which he was engaged when, in the latter part of the year 1665, the plague broke out at Cambridge, and induced most of the members of 'the university to retire to the country. Newton, among others, left the place, and withdrew to his mother's house at Woolsthorpe. This change of residence, removing him probably from his books and in struments, appears to have called away his mind from the speculations it had recently been pursuing, and diverted it into a new track of thought. Among other subjects which now occupied his consider ation, was that of the motions of the celestial bodies, and especially of how it was that they were retained in their orbits, whether, as the Aristotelians insisted, by being driven along the grooves of a solid sphere, or, as Descartes and his followers maintained, by being whirled round and round in airy vortices, or by some other influence which scienpe had not yet conjectured. He was sitting one day, it is said, meditating on this subject in the garden, when an apple happened to drop from a tree beside him. The incident immediately arrested his attention, and his mind, with the happy alchymy of genius, fused it at once into the matter of its present thoughts. What is it, he said to himself, which so draws this apple to the earth ? Whatever it be, may not a similar attraction draw to one another the different bodies of the iv. 3 D 394 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth solar system, and, combined with that projectile force which we may suppose to have been given to each when it was first launched from its Creator's hand into empty space, keep, for instance, the earth and the other planets revolving around the sun, and the moon, in like manner, revolving around the earth ?" Dr Brewster has rejected this common account of the first suggestion to Newton's mind of the doctrine of universal gravitation, in consequence, as he says, of not having been able to find any authority for it. It is related, however, both by Vol taire, on the authority of Newton's niece, Mrs Conduitt, and also by the great philosopher's intimate friend, Dr Pemberton, in the preface to a work, the greater part of which was written under Newton's own eye. It is further confirmed by the constant tradition prevailing in the neighbourhood of Woolsthorpe, which, till within these few years, when it was thrown down by a storm of wind, used to point out a particular tree to the veneration of visitors as the one which thus gave the first hint of the true theory of the universe. It is also ascertained (see Turnor, Collections, p. 160, note) that Newton was actually resident at Woolsthorpe in 1666, not having, it would appear, returned to col lege till some time in the course of that year* Newton was not of a turn to rest satisfied merely with the brilliant conjecture which he had thus struck out, but in the spirit of true phi losophy he proceeded without delay to subject it to the test of calcula tion. His calculations, however, did not then yield him the conclusion which he had anticipated ; one of the elements which he had to use, the measure of a degree of latitude on the earth's surface, had not yet been correctly ascertained ; and the false estimate upon which he pro ceeded, of course affected the result. He never showed himself greater than he did on this failure. Fascinated as he must have been by the beautiful idea which had burst upon his mind, and of which he had thus sought the erification, he abandoned it at once, on finding, as he supposed, that it would not bear being confronted with the facts of the case. It was not till sixteen years afterwards, that hearing accidentally at a meeting of the Royal society, mention made of a new measure ment of a terrestrial degree, which had been executed in 1679, in France by Picard with every attention to accuracy, and which pre sented a result considerably different from the old estimate ; he again took up the calculations which he had so long laid aside, and pursued them with the aid of this correction of one of the data. This time he was nobly rewarded for his long patience and self-denial. The calculation now proceeded exactly in the manner he had expected! and when he had brought it near to its close, as every figure pre dicted more evidently the fulfilment of all his anticipations, he was so much agitated that at last he became unable to go on, and was obliged to request a friend to finish the task. But this most eventful mo ment, was in truth only that of the confirmation of a discovery which had really been made long before. M. Biot states no more than the fact respecting Newton, when he remarks the wonderful circumstance, that " the method of Fluxions, the theory of universal gravitation, and the decomposition of light, i. e. the three grand dis coveries which form the glory of his life, were conceived in his mind before the completion of his twenty-fourth year." ¦ Newton probably returned to Cambridge before the close of the year Pek'OD.J ISAAC NEWTON. 395 1666. The following year we find him advanced to be one of the ju nior Fellows of his college; and in 1668 he became a senior Fellow, and took his degree of M.A. In 1669 Barrow published his optical lectures ; and in the preface to this work he informs us that the manu script had been revised, and some important corrections and additions introduced into it by Mr Newton, whom he describes as a person of extraordinary genius and skill in scientific speculation. The same year Barrow, bidding adieu to his philosophical studies, accepted the chair of divinity, upon which Newton was appointed his successor in the Lu- casian professorship of mathematics. It was in the course of the free lectures which he delivered as the holder of this honourable office in 1669, 1670, and 1671, that he first publicly announced and unfolded his discoveries on the different refrangibility of the rays of light. Even before this time, however, he had occupied himself in the construction of his reflecting telescope, having, in 1668, fabricated two of these in struments. At length the Royal society having received some imper fect information on the subject of his new views, sent a request to him for a more full and accurate explanation ; and, in consequence, he sent them one of his telescopes with a description in December that year. The instrument still remains in the library of the Royal society, bear ing the inscription, — " Invented by Sir Isaac Newton, and made with his own hands, 1671." On the 23d of the same month he was pro posed as a member of the society by Dr Seth Ward, the bishop of Salis bury; and his election took place on the 11th of January following. Soon after, he communicated an account of the discoveries which led to the construction of his telescope, and for this the society ordered their secretary to return him their " solemn thanks." The paper was published in the next number of their transactions. The truths which it contained, however, were by no means received at first with the universal assent of the scientific world. One of the members of the Royal society, Dr Hooke, — a man of unquestionable powers, but of the most jealous and unfortunate temper, — having been placed on the com mittee appointed to report on the merits of the paper, took upon him to refute its conclusions on no better ground than that they did not harmonize with certain inferences which he had deduced from a hy pothesis ofhis own on the essential nature of light, which he contended was not an emanation of minute particles from the shining body, but merely the effect of vibratory motions excited and propagated in the air, or other extremely elastic medium. Now, it is certainly not im possible that this may be the true account of the nature of light ; but the question of whether it was or not, had in reality nothing whatever to do with the truth of Newton's discoveries, which were altogether independent of any theory as to this matter, having their whole evi dence in facts and reasonings which no such theory could affect. The truth is, Hooke, in his loose and unphilosophical way of drawing con clusions, had made a variety of inferences from his own premises, which even they by no means warranted ; and finding some of the notions he had arrived at in this way contradicted by the results of Newton's ex periments or demonstrations, he wanted no more to convince him that the alleged discoveries of the latter must be mere delusions. He had taken it into his head, for example, that there were only two colours in light essentially distinct from each other, — the violet and the red. 396 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTH Now, Newton's experiments had shown him seven colours with distinct properties ; but so convinced was Hooke of the truth of his own mere fancy, that he could not be made to admit the force of any evidence in refutation of it. Another of Newton's opponents on this occasion was a Father Pardies, a French Jesuit, and a person of very considerable learning and ability. The unequal refrangibility, as it is called, of the different rays of light, or that property by which the component parts of a ray of the sun's light, on passing through a prism, spread them selves out into an elongated image or spectrum, exhibiting a succes sion of seven distinct colours, forms the fundamental proposition of a most important branch of the science of optics, and one of the most curious truths which Newton's experiments established. But it was one which this Father Pardies would by no means admit, he having previously adopted the notion that rays of all colours were equally re frangible. So he set to work very laboriously, but we need not add, most unsuccessfully, to show that the elongation of Newton's spec trum was the effect, not of any change operated upon the direction of the rays in their passage through the prism at all, but merely of the different angles at wliich they must, he contended, have originally fallen upon the one side of the prism forcing them to issue still more widely diffused from the other, — a hypothesis which not only admitted of being mathematically disproved, but which, even if it had been received as sufficient to account for the elongation of the image, would have left other equally undeniable and perhaps still more striking results of New ton's experiments altogether unexplained and unintelligible. But the most extraordinary attempt at a refutation of the new doctrines that appeared is contained in a paper, which may be found in the ' Philoso phical Transactions,' by a philosopher of the name of Linus, a physi cian at Liege, who actually asserts that Newton's story of the elongated image produced by the prism is a pure fiction, that he himself on re peating the experiment never had been able to see any thing more than a luminous spot perfectly round, and perfectly colourless, — and that Newton must have been merely deceived by some coloured cloud acci dentally passing along the heavens, which might perhaps, by tinging and scattering the light admitted into the chamber, have given rise to something like the lengthened and variegated image he imagined he had observed. We may very reasonably suppose that this worthy gentle man must, in performing his experiment, have made the slight mis take of omitting to introduce the prism altogether ; and indeed why should he have taken the trouble of going through a part of the pro cess which he had evidently convinced himself before-hand was so perfectly immaterial ? The absurd attention which the Society showed to these objectors by printing their lucubrations involved Newton in a protracted and most teazing controversy, which seems to have given him great disturbance and uneasiness. On the urgent persuasion of his friends he was induced, though very much contrary to his own feel ings, to answer some of his opponents ; and his gentle spirit, formed for contemplation, was much more sorely ruffled by this unusual exer cise, than to minds of the ordinary cast it will seem necessary or nat ural that it should. We find him at last requesting Oldenburg, the secretary of the Royal society, to prevent the appearance, as far as he conveniently could, of any objections or philosophical letters that might PekioD.] ISAAC NEWTON. 397 concern him. And, again, in a letter referring to this subject, dated the 9th of December, 1675, he states in a strain of bitter regret that he blamed his own imprudence for parting with so substantial a bless ing as his quiet to run after a shadow. In 1675 Newton obtained a dispensation from the king, Charles II. to continue in his fellowship without taking orders. The state of his pecuniary resources at this time may be understood from an order of the council of the Royal society passed on the 28th of January, by which he is excused from the weekly contribution of a shilling, " on account of his low circumstances, as he represented." For some years after this his attention appears to have been occupied partly in prose cuting his discoveries on the subject of light, and partly in perfecting his invention of the fluxionary calculus. So early as in the month of June, 1669, he had communicated to Barrow his treatise on that sub ject, entitled ' Analysis per equationes numero terminorum infinitas ;' and the manuscript had been soon after given by Barrow to the well- known mathematician John Collins, who subsequently made known its contents to many of his scientific friends, lt was not printed till 1711, after the death of Collins, among whose papers it was found. In 1672 Newton had also prepared another work, entitled ' A Method of Flux ions,' which, however, he declined at the time to publish, afraid of its involving him in a controversy similar to that which the announcement of his optical discoveries had occasioned, and from which he was then suffering so much distress. This work was, like the former, also written in Latin, and was not given to the world till 1736, long after the death of its author, when it at length appeared translated into Eng lish by Colson. It was in 1682, as we have already mentioned, that Newton, having accidentally heard of Picard's new measurement ofthe circumference of the earth, resumed his calculations on the theory of universal gravitation, and had at last the exquisite satisfaction of find ing his original conjectures completely verified. Halley, the astrono mer, in a visit which he pqdd to him at Cambridge in August, 1684, saw in his hands the demonstration of some of the fundamental propo sitions of the ' Principia;' and the manuscript of that work was laid before the Royal society in the course of the following April. As in the case of his optical discoveries, Newton found himself on this oc casion again clamorously assailed by Hooke, who had, some years before, been appointed secretary to the Society on the death of Oldenburg, and who now actually claimed the honour of having previously found out nearly every thing that the ' Principia' contained. The Society, however, did not pay much attention to his passionately urged complaints ; and under this treatment he seems himself to have in a short time become considerably less violent. Still Newton, de terred by the apprehension of a contest with new antagonists, objected strongly to the publication of the work. The third book in particular he was extremely anxious to suppress. " Philosophy," he writes in a letter to Halley, intimating this wish, " is such an impertinently litigi ous lady, that a man had as good be engaged in lawsuits as have to do with her." His objections, however, were at last overcome by the representations of his friends — and the work was published entire, at the expense of the Society, in May, 1687. The truths demonstrated in this immortal treatise, which may be said to have laid the founda- 398 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth tion of all that has been achieved in physical science since the era of its appearance, were at first either violently opposed, or received with surprise and incredulity by the great majority of the mathematicians and astronomers of the day. The philosophy of Descartes, who had. pretended to explain the celestial phenomena by the supposition of a multitude of airy vortices or whirpools, was then universally taught in the schools, and formed the common faith of the scientific world. Dr Brewster, however, in his late life of Newton, seems to have shown that the new philosophy was introduced, at least into the different universities of Great Britain, much earlier than has been generally supposed. It is certain also that even on the continent it soon had to boast of several distinguished disciples. Among these we may par ticularly mention the marquis of l'Hopital, one of the greatest mathe maticians of the age. This gentleman, as Dr Pemberton informs us, after becoming acquainted with the ' Principia,' used eagerly to ask his visitors from England, " Does Mr Newton eat, or drink, or sleep, like other men ? I represent him to myself as a celestial genius, en tirely disengaged from matter." As for Newton himself, all that he had done never seems to have inspired him with any sentiment except that of a deeper sense of the narrow and insignificant range of his dis coveries as compared with the whole mighty realm of nature. A little before his death, Dr Pemberton tells us, he observed : " I do not know what I may appear to the world ; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me." " If I have done the public any service in this way," he writes also to Dr Bentley, in 1602, referring to his astronomical speculations, " it is due to nothing but industry and patient thought." This, indeed, seems. to have been a frequent and favourite remark with him. " One day," says Dr Pemberton, " when some of his friends had said some handsome things of his extraordinary talents, Sir Isaac in an easy and unaffected way assured them that for his own part he was sensible that whatever he had done worth notice, was owing to a patience of thought rather than any extraordinary sagacity he was endowed with above other men." "I keep, said he, "the subject constantly before me, and wait till the first dawnings open slowly by little and little, into a full and clear light." An ordinary man, however, has no conception of that state of mind which Newton called " keeping his subject constantly before him," so earnest and unswerving was the attention he used to give to it, and so entirely did it occupy his faculties and withdraw them from every other object. " During the two years," says Biot, " that he employed in composing his immortal ' Principia,' in which are de veloped so many admirable discoveries, he existed only to calculate and to meditate ; and if the life of a being subjected to the necessities of humanity can furnish any idea of the pure existence of a celestial in telligence, we may say that his offered such a representation. Often lost in the contemplation of those sublime truths, he went through the ordinary duties of life without perceiving that he did so, and without his thinking principle seeming to preserve any connexion with his body. 1 See liis eleventh chapter. t'EKIOD. ISAAC NEWTON. 399 It is said that oftener than once, after he had begun to dress himself in the morning, he suddenly sat down again on his bed, arrested by some thought, and remained in this situation half naked for hours, pursuing the idea which occupied him. He would have even forgotten to take his food if they had not reminded him of it ; nay, even sometimes when he felt himself hungry before any of his meals, it would not have been impossible to persuade him that he had already finished it. One day his particular friend Dr Stukeley, having come to dine with him, had to Wait a long time before Newton came out ofhis study; in which he was shut up. At last, feeling rather hungry, the Doctor resolved to help himself to a chicken which had been set on the table ; after eating which he returned the fragments to the dish, and replaced the cover. Some hours after, Newton at last made his appearance, and seating himself at the table, remarked that he was very hungry. But when upon lifting the cover he saw nothing but the picked bones of the chicken, " Ah," said he, " I thought I had not dined, but I perceive I am mistaken."2 The same year in which the ' Principia' was published, Newton's quiet retreat at Cambridge was disturbed by a circumstance which eventually introduced the philosopher to a new scene. Among the other arbitrary attempts by which the infatuated sovereign who now enjoyed the crown signalized his short tenure of power, was a manda mus which he sent down to this university to admit Father Francis, a Benedictine monk, as master of arts, without exacting from him the oaths of allegiance and supremacy. With this illegal order the uni versity refused to comply, and they forthwith elected nine of their members as delegates, to maintain their rights before the high court of ecclesiastical commission. Of these Newton was one, he having dis tinguished himself, it would appear, by his strenuous and determined opposition to the royal mandate; The king at last thought proper to yield the point ; and the delegates of course Obtained considerable cre dit by the success of their mission. Next year brought the abdication of James and the convention-parliament ; and such was now the esti mation in which Newton was held at Cambridge, that he was chosen by the university one Of their representatives in that assembly. The state ofthe poll was, for Sir Robert Sawyer, 125, for Mr Newton, 122, and for Mr Finch, 117. The following year he returned to Cambridge, where he resided almost constantly till 1695. It was during this inter val that he appears to have been affected with that attack of low spirits which has been by some of his biographers described as a fit of tem porary insanity, while other writers have gone so far as to speak of it as a derangement of intellect from which he never entirely recovered. The public attention was first called to this occurrence in the life of Newton by an article published some years ago by M. Biot in the ' Biographie Universelle ;' but the reader who wishes to find the ques tion fully discussed, and illustrated by some documents which had not been previously published, is referred to Dr Brewster's Memoir in the ' Family Library.' The truth appears to be, that Newton was in fact in a bad state of health during the years 1692 and 1693, and it is not im possible that, suffering as he was at the time under a pressure of bodily 8 Biographie Universelle. 400 LITERARY SFRIES. [Sixth. illness, his mind may have received a greater shock than it otherwise would have done, from an accident which is said to have befallen some calculations on which he had bestowed a great deal of labour, their being burned, namely, by a candle which had been thrown down among them by his dog Diamond. " Ah Diamond 1 Diamond I" he is said to have exclaimed, on perceiving the destruction the creature had occa sioned, "thou little knowest the mischief thou hast done." While la bouring under this despondency, he wrote some strange letters to Locke and others of his friends, indicating the apprehensive and enfeebled con dition of his mind ; and from the curious notice printed by Biot from the papers of Huygens, it would seem that a rumour had found its way abroad that he had been seized with something like insanity. But that he was not really affected by any disorder to which this term could properly be applied, is sufficiently evidenced by the fact, that it was during this very period that he wrote his five profound and elaborate letters to his friend Dr Bentley, on the existence of a Deity, — the first of these compositions being dated the 10th of December, 1692, and the last the 25th of February, 1693. The conflagration of his papers is pretty satisfactorily ascertained by an extract which Dr Brewster has printed from the manuscript journal of Mr Abraham de Ia Pryrae, now in the possession of George Pryme, Esq. Professor of Political Econo my at Cambridge, to have happened about the beginning of the year 1692, and his letter to Locke, (published by Lord King in his life of that writer,) which has been supposed to demonstrate his insanity, as well as another of a somewhat similar tenor to Secretary Pepys, first given to the world by Dr Brewster, are dated in September, 1693. Soon after this he seems to have recovered his usual state of health. In 1695 Newton's circumstances were materially improved by his being appointed, through the interest of his friend Mr Charles Mon tague, afterwards Lord Halifax, to the office of warden of the mint, a place of the value of £500 or £600 a year. On receiving this appoint ment he removed to London, and four years after, having been pro moted to the mastership of the mint, the profits of which varied from £1200 to £1500 a year, he resigned the entire emoluments of his pro fessorship to Whiston, who acted as his deputy, and who was a few years after, on his recommendation, appointed his successor in the chair. In 1699 also, he was elected a foreign associate of the Royal academy of sciences of France. In 1701 he was a second time returned to par liament as one of the representatives for the university of Cambridge, and in 1703 he was chosen for the first time president of the Royal society, a dignity to which he was annually re-elected for the succeed ing twenty-five years. In 1704, his old antagonist, Hooke, being now two years dead, he at last published his complete work on optics ; and two years after it was translated into Latin by his friend Dr Clarke ; with whose performance Newton was so well pleased, that he presented him with the sum of £500 for his trouble. On the 16th of April, 1705, he was knighted by Queen Anne at Cambridge. This year, however, he lost his election in a contest for the representation of the university, and we believe he never again sat in parliament. Some of the succeeding years of Newton's life were embittered by another unhappy controversy in which he became entangled with his celebrated contemporary, Leibnitz, on the subject of their respective Peuiod.] ISAAC NEWTON. 401 pretensions to the original discovery of the fluxionary or differential calculus. The vehemence and exasperation with which this unworthy contest was carried on, both by the friends ofthe parties and by the two philosophers themselves, furnish a melancholy illustration of how apt even the highest intellects are to be betrayed into forgetfulness of their own dignity when inflamed by rivalry and the sense of supposed wrong. As ih most other cases of this kind, it happened here that the greater part of the mischief was evidently occasioned by the interference of persons, who, in coming forward in the first instance, probably con sulted chiefly their conceit and ambition of importance, and were afterwards naturally led to endeavour to inoculate those whose cause they professed to defend, with their own spirit of violence and acri mony. It is now generally allowed that the honour of the discovery in question belongs to each of the illustrious competitors, with this differ ence, however, in favour of Newton, that he was undoubtedly the one of the two to whom it first occurred. We agree also with Dr Brews ter in thinking that the conduct of Newton in the course of the contro versy was upon the whole much less incorrect than that of Leibnitz; and that, in particular, nothing that was done by the former was so rash and inconsiderate, to use no harsher term, as the attempt made by the latter to prejudice his antagonist in the opinion of his royal patron ess, the princess of Wales, . afterwards Queen Caroline, the wife of George II. a lady of highly cultivated mind and literary habits, whose estimation of Newton was such as to do honour to her understanding; and whose attentions were gratifying to the philosopher as well as cre ditable to herself. The most important result of this controversy was the publication, in the beginning ofthe year 1713, of the - CommerCi- um Epistolicum,' being a collection of letters which had passed between Newton and his friends in relation to his scientific studies, and which were collected and sent to the press by the Royal Society as a complete vindication of his claim to be considered as the original inventor of the differential calculus. A second edition of this celebrated publication appeared in 1722. In connexion with the subject of Newton's quarrel with Leibnitz, we may here notice the solution by the former of a diffi cult mathematical problem which the latter proposed in 1716 as a trial of skill to all the scientific men of EurOpe. Newton received it at five o'clock in the afternoon, after retiring from a fatiguing day's work at the mint, and solved it before going to bed. This anecdote has some times been confounded with another relating to two problems announced by John Bernouilli in 1697, which Newton also solved. He addressed solutions of both on the day after they came into his hands to Mr Montague, who was then president of the Royal society. From this time till his death, Newton continued to reside in London, enjoying an income which to him was affluence, graced with the dis tinguished favour of his royal mistress, who used to spend much of her tune in conversing with him, and frequently declared that she con sidered herself happy in living in an age and country that could boast of so extraordinary a genius ; and not only as President of the Royal Society, occupying the ostensible place of head of the British scientific world, but universally honoured both by his own and foreign nations, as the great founder and father of modern physical knowledges, and by far the most illustrious mathematical discoverer that the world had ever iv. 3 E 402 LITERARY SERIES. [Sum produced. As to his manner of life and the general character of his temper and disposition, Mr Conduitt, who married his niece, and knew him well, gives us the following, among other details : — " He always lived in a very handsome generous manner, though without ostentation or vanity ; always hospitable, and upon proper occasions gave splendid entertainments. He was generous and charitable without bounds ; he used to say, that they who gave away nothing till they died, never gave I believe no man of his circumstances ever gave away so much during his lifetime in alms, in encouraging ingenuity and learning, and to his relations, nor upon all occasions showed a greater contempt of his own money, or a more scrupulous frugality of that which belonged to the public, or to any society he was intrusted for. He refused pensions and additional employments that were offered him He had such a meekness and sweetness of temper, that a melancholy story would often draw tears from him." The writer then, after informing us that he was very temperate, although he never subjected himself to any regimen in his diet, proceeds — " He was of a middle stature, and plump in his latter years ; he had a very lively and piercing eye, a comely and gracious aspect, and a fine head of hair, as white as silver, without any baldness ; and, when his peruke was off, was a venerable sight. And to his last illness, he had the bloom and colour of a young man, and never wore spectacles, nor lost more than one tooth till the day of his death. . . . He ate little flesh, and lived chiefly upon broth, vegetables, and fruit, of which he always ate very heartily."5 The only other work which he gave to the public after this, was his • Chronology.' He had put a sketch of this work into the hands of the queen some years before, and had afterwards permitted her majesty to communicate the manuscript to the Abbe Conti, on the express condi tion that it should not be shown. Conti, however, having some time after gone to Paris, carried the papers thither with him, and in viola tion of his promise, thought proper to send them to the press. The book appeared accordingly in 1718, accompanied by a commentary by Freret, in which that writer attempted to refute the text which he had thus undertaken to illustrate. This publication, and the circumstances attending it, gave great irritation to Newton ; and at last, in order to set himself right with the world, he determined, advanced as his age now was, to undertake the task of preparing the original work for the press. It was nearly finished when he died, and was published the year after his decease. In the estimation of some, Newton has in this, his latest production, done no less a service to chronology and history, than that which he had rendered to the science of the material uni verse by the previous exertions of his comprehensive and penetrating intellect.6 The circumstances of the death of the illustrious philosopher We shall relate in the words of Mr Conduitt. He had, for the sake ofhis health, taken lodgings in Orbell's buildings, Kensington, from which, however, * Tumor's Collections'. " A very curious and learned note upon the principle of the ' Newtonian System of Chronology,' may be found in M. Biot's original Life of Newton, in the ' Biographie Universelle,' from the pen of a friend, which has been omitted in the translation of that memoir, published in the ' Library of Useful Knowledge.' Pkiuod.] ISAAC NEWTON. 403 he was in the habit of driving frequently to town : — " On Tuesday the last day of February, 1726-7," says Mr Conduitt, " he came to town in order to go to a meeting ofthe Royal society. The next day I was with him, and thought I had not seen him better of many years, and he was sensible of it himself, and told me, smiling, that he had slept the Sunday before from eleven at night to eight in the morning without waking ; but his great fatigue in going to the Society, and making and receiving visits, brought his old complaint violently upon him. He returned to Kensington on the Saturday following. As soon as I heard of his illness I carried Dr Mead and Mr Chesselden to him, who im mediately said it was the stone in the bladder, and gave no hopes of his recovery. The stone was probably moved from the place where it lay quiet, by the great motion and fatigue of his last journey fo Lon don, from which time he had violent fits of pain, with very short in termissions ; and though the drops of sweat ran down from his face with anguish, he never complained, or cried out, or showed the least signs of peevishness or impatience, and, during the short intervals from that violent torture, would smile and talk with his usual cheerfulness. On Wednesday the 15th of March he seemed a little better, and we conceived some hopes of his recovery, but without grounds. On Sa turday morning the 18th he read the newspapers, and held a pretty long discourse with Dr Mead, and had all his senses perfect ; but that evening at six, and all Sunday, he was insensible, and died on Mon day the 20th of March, between one and two o'clock in the morning. He seemed to have stamina vitse, (except the accidental disorder ofthe stone,) to have carried him to a much longer age. To the last he had all his senses and faculties, strong, vigorous, and lively, and he con tinued writing and studying many hours every day to the time of his last illness." Newton, at the time of his death, was in his eighty-fifth year. His body, after lying in state in the Jerusalem-chamber, was conveyed to its place of interment in Westminster-abbey, by a numer ous and splendid procession, six peers holding up the pall. A monu ment was some time after placed over his remains by the inheritors of his property. He died worth about £32,000, besides the small estate which he had received from his father. The money was divided between four nephews and four nieces, the descendants of his mother by her second husband. Some time before bis death also he had given a pro perty which he had purchased at Kensington, to his grand-niece, Miss Conduitt, who lived with him for nearly twenty years. This lady, who was celebrated for her wit and beauty, afterwards married Lord Vis count Lymington, and was the grandmother of the present earl ol Portsmouth. Through her Newton's papers came into the possession of the Portsmouth family, where they still remain. The landed pro perty which Sir Isaac derived from his father went to his heir of the whole blood, a John Newton, whose great-grandfather was Sir Isaac's uncle. The author ofthe poem of ' Wensley-Dale', already referred to, says that this person, whom he incorrectly calls Robert, was the son of a John Newton, who had bepn originally a carpenter, afterwards became gamekeeper to Sir Isaac, and died at the age of sixty, in 1725. His son, Sir Isaac's heir, according to this authority, was a dissolute fellow, and, being drunk, fell down with a tobacco pipe in his mouth, which stuck in his throat, and he died at thirty, in 1737. In 404 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth Whittaker's ' History of Craven,' some anecdotes may be- found of a Reverend Benjamin Smith, a nephew of Newton's, who seems to have been a very eccentric and rather a worthless character. He died in 1776. Two works of Newton's were published some time after his death, the first entitled, ' Observations on Daniel and the Apocalypse,' the other, ' An Historical Account of two notable corruptions of the Scrip tures.' There is also remaining among his papers, a ' Lexicon Prophe* ticum,' which has never been printed. His manuscripts amount in all to about four thousand sheets in folio, or eight reams of paper, besides many bound volumes. They relate principally to chronology and his tory, and a great many of them are copies repeatedly transcribed. A catalogue of these manuscripts may be found in the Edinburgh Ency clopedia,3 and in various other= publications. The famous tree in the orchard at Woolsthorpe — which is said to have suggested the idea of gravitation — was blown down a few years ago ; but the house in which the philosopher spent his early years still stands. " It is built of stone, as is the way of the country thereabouts," says Dr Stukeley, who saw it above a century ago, " and a reasonable good one. They led me up stairs, and showed me Sir Isaac's study, where I suppose he studied when in the country, in his younger days, as perhaps when he visited his mother from the university. I observed the shelves were of his own making, being pieces of deal boxes, which probably he sent his books and clothes down in upon these occasions." This house was repaired in 1798, when a marble tablet was put up in one of the apartments, having Pope's celebrated couplet inscribed on it : " Nature and nature's laws lay hid in night ; God said, Let Newton be, and all was light.'' 3f olm tfttitito, M* ft BORN A. D. 1675 -DIED A. D. 1728. John Freind was the son of the rector of Croton in Northampton shire, at which place he was born in 1675. He studied at Westminster school under the well-known Dr Busby ; after which he was sent, in 1690, to Christ- church, Oxford. He was there much distinguished for his classical erudition, and at the age of twenty, produced, in concert with another student, an edition of the oration of iEschinus against Ctesiphon, and of that of Demosthenes, entitled, ' De Corona,' with a Latin translation and commentary. He also revised the Delphine edi tion of Ovid's Metamorphoses, reprinted at Oxford in the same year. He now commenced the study of medicine, and appeared before the puolic in a letter to Sir Hans Sloane on hydrocephalus, in 1699 ; and afterwards in 1701, in a letter on the history of a rare spasmodic affec tion. These may be found in the Philosophical transactions. His next work was on the subject of the ' Fluxus muliebris menstruus,' and con tained an examination of the several medical theories of the day, espe- * See Article Niwton. Period.] JOHN WOODWARD. 405 cially the mechanical ones of Borelli, Baglivi, Pitcairn, and Keill. This work has been admired for the elegance of its style, but the opinions are now antiquated. In 1704 he was appointed to the chair of chemis try in Oxford ; and the year after he attended the army under Lord Peter borough in the Spanish expedition. He remained physician to the army for two years, after which he travelled in Italy, and visited the celebrated physicians Baglivi and Lancisi. He returned home in 1707, and published an account of the Spanish expedition. The same year he became doctor in medicine. In 1709 his ' Prelectiones Chemicse' appeared, dedicated to Sir Isaac Newton. They were attacked by the German philosophers, and defended by Dr Freind in an appendix to the second edition. In 1711 he was elected a fellow ofthe Royal society, and travelled into Flanders as physician to the duke of Ormond. He returned to London and settled in practice there, becoming a fellow of the college of physicians in 1716. He soon got involved in a dispute with Dr Woodward, professor of medicine in Gresham-college, occa sioned by a treatise on fevers which he published in that year. In 17 17 . he read the Gulstonian lecture, and three years after delivered the Harveian oration. In 1722 he became member of parliament for Launceston in Cornwall, and is said to have spoken frequently in the house, and to have exerted himself with considerable energy on several occasions. Being suspected of connexion with Bishop Atterbury, he was committed to the Tower in March, 1722. During his imprison ment he is believed to have made considerable preparations for his great work on the history of medicine, addressed to Dr Mead. This was published in the years 1725 and 1726. He remained but a short time in confinement, and on being liberated became physician to the prince of Wales. When the prince came to the throne, Freind became physician to the queen, but enjoyed this honour only a short time. He died on the 26th of June, 1728, of a fever, in the fifty-second year of his age. He was buried at Hitcham in Buckinghamshire, and a mo nument was erected to his memory in Westminster-abbey. His works, especially the ' History of Medicine,' are still deservedly appreciated. His character is described in the Harveian oration of Sir Edward Wilmot in 1735 ; where he is called a deep philosopher, a learned physician and elegant writer, and an ornament to society ; and described as very honest and humane, ever desirous of doing good. His friendship with Dr Mead is well-known. &ot>n moottiaat^ BORN A.D. 1665.— DIED A. p. 1728. John Woodward, a native of Derbyshire, was bom on the 1st of May, 1665. After having received the rudiments of education at a country school, he was apprenticed to a linen-draper, whom, however, he soon quitted, and shortly after, became acquainted with Dr Peter Barwick, a physician, " who finding him," says Ward, his biographer, " of a very promising genius, took him under his tuition in his own fa mily." After having made considerable progress in philosophy, phy sic, and anatomy, he was invited to visit Sir Ralph Dutton., Dr Bar- 406 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth wick's son-in-law, at Sherborne in Gloucestershire, where his mineralo- gical observations and collections " led him to conclude," says the authority before cited, " that the great mixture, which he every where found, both of native and extraneous fossils, must result from some general cause ; and, at length, convinced him of the universality of the Mosaic deluge." In January, 1692, he was chosen professor of physic in Gresham col lege, on the recommendation particularly of Dr Barwick, who certified that Woodward " had made the greatest advance, not only in physic, anatomy, botany, and other parts of natural philosophy, but likewise in history, geography, mathematics, philology, and all other useful learn ing, of any man he ever knew ofhis age." In 1693 he was chosen a fellow ofthe royal society. In 1695 he obtained his degree of M.D. by mandate from Archbishop Tenison ; and, during the same year, published a work, entitled, ' An Essay towards a Natural History of the Earth and Terrestrial Bodies, especially in Minerals, as also of the Sea, Rivers, and Springs ; with an account of the Universal Deluge, and of the Effects it had upon the Earth.' In 1696 he published a pamphlet, entitled, ' Brief Instructions for making Observations in all parts of the World, as also for Collecting, Preserving, and sending over Natural Things,' &c. In 1698 he was admitted a licentiate, and in 1792, elected a fellow of the royal college of physicians. In 1704, a Latin translation of his essay having been printed at Zurich, he became engaged in a controversy with Cuper and Leibnitz, and, some years afterwards, with Camerarius, who closed the dispute with a very hand some acknowledgment of Woodward's abilities. In 1718 he published a work, entitled, 'The State of Physic and Diseases, with an Inquiry into the Causes ofthe late increase of them; but more particularly of the Small-pox : with some considerations upon the New Practice of Purging in that Disease,' &c. This practice had been supported by Drs Mead and Freind, especially by the latter, in his ' Commentary on Fevers.' Woodward endeavoured to show the ad vantage of emetics ; but was defeated in the controversy. During the latter part of his life, which terminated in April, 1728, he devoted the chief portion of his time to " his darling fossils and shells." His collection was purchased by the university of Cambridge, to which he bequeathed £150 per annum for the foundation of a mi- neralogical lectureship, which appears to have been first held by Dr Conyers Middleton. Shortly after his death appeared ' A Catalogue of Fossils in the collection of John Woodward, M. D.,' and an octavo edition from his pen, entitled, ' Fossils of all Kinds digested into a Me thod suitable to their Mutual Relations and Affinity.' Besides the works already mentioned, he was the author of some archaeological tracts, and a few contributions to the Philosophical transactions. Dr Woodward appears to have been a man of considerable abilities, and great benevolence. One of his biographers states, that " as he was a genius sui generis, so his method of reasoning was often grounded upon a way of reasoning peculiar to himself." As a geologist, he is at least entitled to praise, for having made actual observations the basis of his theories. P«RIOD.] 407 Mt Mfyavti Mtele. BORN A. D. 1676 DIED A. D. 1729. This celebrated writer was a native of Dublin, where he was born about the year 1676. A branch of this family was possessed of a considerable estate in the county of Wexford, and his father, who was a counsellor-at-law, was some time private secretary to James, first duke of Ormond. As the father was of English extraction, he carried his son Richard, while very young, to London, and put him to school at the Charterhouse, where he first contracted his intimacy with Addison. From the Charterhouse he was sent to Merton college, Oxford ; where he rather idled his time, but gave some indications of his abilities, and of his taste for polite literature. He even proceeded so far as to compose a comedy, but, by the advice of a brother-collegian, he was prevented from making it public. He left the university without tak ing any degree, and entered as a private gentleman in the horse- guards, a step which gave so much offence to his friends, that he lost the succession to a good estate in the county of Wexford in conse quence. Steele was, however, well- adapted by nature for the way of life that he had chosen. His disposition was gay ; and he not only abounded with good-nature and generosity, but was distinguished by the brilliancy of his wit, and his engaging manners ; nor was he by any means destitute of courage. These qualities rendered him the delight of the soldiery, and soon procured him an ensign's commission. In the meantime, he was easily led away into every kind of riotous dissi pation ; and all his fine talents and many amiable qualities were un happily prostituted in the pursuit of licentious pleasure. But he was not without his hours of cool reflection ; and in some of these it was that he drew up, for his own private use, a little treatise entitled ' The Christian Hero ;' with a design — as he himself assures us — to fix upon his mind a deep impression of the value of virtue and religion, in oppo sition to his propensity to unwarrantable pleasures. He printed this treatise in the year 1701, with a dedication to his patron Lord Cutts who appointed him his private secretary, and likewise procured for him a company in Lord Lucas's regiment of fusiliers. But so direct and notorious was the contradiction between the tenour of this book and the general course of the author's life that it exposed Steele to much raillery amongst his acquaintances. It was perhaps with the view of doing away with the impressions occasioned by this publication that he composed his comedy, called ' The Funeral, or Grief a-la-mode.' This performance was brought upon the stage the same year, and met with a very favourable reception. At the beginning of Queen Anne's reign, through the interest of the earls of Halifax and Sunderland to whom he had been recommended by Addison, Steele was appointed writer of the Gazette. Soon after his promotion to this office, he produced his second comedy, called ' The tender Husband ;' in which he was assisted by his friend Addison, and which was acted in the year 1704, with great success. But his next play, ' The Lying Lovers,' met with a different reception, and proved a complete failure, or as he himself expresses it, was " damned 408 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth for its piety." In the year 1709 he began to publish ' The Tatler.' This excellent paper was undertaken in concert with Swift, who a little before had published some humorous pieces under the name of 'Isaac Bickerstaff,' which had been very favourably received. Tin general purpose of ' The Tatler' was — as the author observes — "to ex pose the false arts of life, to pull off the disguises Of cunning, vanity, and affectation, and to recommend a general simplicity in our dress, our discourse, and our behaviour." Nothing more was aimed at while Swift was concerned in it ; nor did the papers rise above this design till the change of the ministry, when Addison had leisure to engage more constantly in the work. With his assistance it began to aim at higher objects, and its reputation proportionably increased. About a year be fore he began to publish ' The Tatler,' Steele married his second wife. His first wife was a lady of Barbadoes, by whom he became possessed of an estate in that island, valued at about eight hundred pounds a year; but it was encumbered with considerable debts, and legacies. His second wife was Mary Sourlock, daughter of Jonathan Sour- lock, Esq. of Langunnor, in Wales. This lady was very handsome, and he was strongly attached to her to the end of her life. In one of his letters to her he says, " The vainest woman upon earth never saw in her glass half the attractions which I view in you. Your air, your shape, your every glance, motion and gesture, have such peculiar graces, that you possess my whole soul ; and I know no life but in the hopes of your approbation. I know not what to say, but that I love you with the sincerest passion that ever entered the heart of man. I will make it the business of my life to find out the means of convinc ing you that I prefer you to all that is pleasing upon earth." — In the ' Epistolary Correspondence of Richard Steele,' published by Nichols, in 1787, in two volumes small 8vo. are many curious letters from Steele to this lady, after they were married. It appears, however, that the temper of Steele and his wife were in some respects very different; which often occasioned disagreements between them. He was impro vident, little attentive to his expenses, and generous to a very high de gree ; while she was not merely prudent, but parsimonious, and fond of money ; and though she had a valuable estate in Wales, hoarded up the greater part ofthe income of it, and kept it almost entirely in her hands. Steele's inattention to economy often involved him in great difficulties. Dr Johnson says, " Steele, whose imprudence and generosity, or vanity of profusion, kept him always incurably necessitous, upon sOme pres sing exigence in an evil hour, borrowed a hundred pounds of his friend Addison, probably without much purpose of re-payment ; but Addison, who seems to have had other notions of a hundred pounds, grew im patient of delay, and reclaimed his loan by an execution. Steele felt with great sensibility the obduracy of his creditor ; but with emotions of sorrow rather than of anger." — Johnson has represented this transac tion in a manner injurious to Addison, and very wide of the truth ; the facts of the case are these : Steele had built and inhabited for a few years a small but elegant house, adjoining to Hampton court; to which he gave the name of Hovel at Hampton-wick. Here he lived in a manner which his finances would by no means admit; and, being much embarrassed for money, he borrowed a thousand pounds of Addison, on this house arid its furniture, giving bond for the re-payment of the Period.] RICHARD STEELE. 409 money at the end of twelve months. Addison soon found, however, that it would be a great benefit to Steele to compel him to quit his house at Hampton. On the forfeiture of his bond, therefore, he direct ed his attorney to proceed to execution. The house and furniture were accordingly sold ; and the surplus was remitted by Addison to Steele with a very kind letter, stating the friendly reason of this ex traordinary proceeding, namely, to awaken him if possible from an in fatuation which must end in his inevitable ruin. Steele received the letter with his usual composure and gaiety, met his friend as usual, and declared that he always considered this step as really intended by Addison to do him service. The great success which * The Tatler' justly obtained was highly favourable both to the interests and the reputation of Steele ; and during the course of this publication he was made a commissioner of the stamp- duties, in the year 1710. Upon the change of the ministry, in that year, he sided with the duke of Marlborough ; and when his Grace was dismissed from all employments, he addressed a letter of thanks to him for the services he had done his country, under the title of ' The Englishman's Thanks to the Duke of Marlborough.' However, as our anthor still continued to hold his place in the stamp-office, under the new administration, he restrained his pen from political subjects; and, having dropped ' The Tatler,' he formed the plan of ' The Spectator,' in concert with his friend Addison, whose assistance was the chief sup port of that admirable work, which made its first appearance in March, 1710-11, and was continued without interruption till December, 1712, when it was discontinued for a while ; but being resumed on the 18th of June, 1714, it was completed on the 20th of December in the same year. ' The Spectator' was received with such unusual approbation and applause, that Steele was encouraged to prosecute the same design under a different title, and accordingly soon after ' The Spectator' was discontinued he began 'The Guardian,' the first number of which was published in March, and the last in October 1713. But in the course of this paper, his thoughts took such a political turn, and he gave his pen so free scope, that some of his friends were dissatisfied with his manner of conducting it, and Pope and Congreve in particular with drew their assistance. This, however, was no check to the ardour of Steele, who had engaged with great warmth against the ministry, and was determined to exert himself to the utmost in his favourite cause. With this view he resolved to procure a seat in the house of commons, at the ensuing election ; and that there might be no obstacle in his way, he immediately resigned his office as commissioner of the stamp- revenues, and his pension as servant to his late royal highness Prince George of Denmark. Having taken these measures, he renewed his attsipk upon the ministry ; and on the 7th of August, 1713, he pub lished his famous letter to * The Guardian,' on the demolition of Dun kirk. Parliament being dissolved the next day, he wrote several other warm political tracts against the administration. In August, 1713, he was elected member of parliament for Stock- bridge ; and soon after began to write ' The Englishman,' a paper which was published thrice a-week, the first number being dated Octo ber 8th, 1713. During the course of this publication Mr Steele also pub lished ' The Crisis, or a Discourse representing, from the most ancient iv. 3 F 410 LITERARY SERIES. [SlXTU Records, the just Causes of the late Revolution, and the several Settle ments of the Crown of England and Scotland on her Majesty,' &c The publication of this piece was productive of very serious consequen ces to the author, who had been, from the first, aware of the danger to which it would expose him. The nature of the treatise, and the occa sion of his writing it, he himself explains in his ' Apology ;' wherein he tells us, that the plan of the work was first hinted to him by his friend Mr More, of the Inner Temple, " a gentleman well skilled in the laws and constitution of this kingdom." . " When ' The Crisis,' " says he, " was written hand in hand with Mr More, I, who was to answer it with my all, would not venture upon my own single judgment ; there fore I caused it to be printed ; and left one copy with Mr Addison, another with Mr Lechmere, another with Mr Minshull, and another with Mr Hoadly. From these copies, ' The Crisis' became the piece it is. When I thought it my duty, I thank God I had no further con sideration for myself than to do it in a lawful and proper way, so as to give no disparagement to a glorious cause from my indiscretion, or want of judgment." 'The Crisis' was immediately attacked with great severity by Dr Swift, in a pamphlet intituled, ' The Public Spirit of the Whigs set forth in their generous encouragement of the Author of the Crisis.' But it was not till the I2th of March, 1713-14, that it fell under the cognizance of the house of commons, when, at the meeting of the new parliament, Steele had taken his seat for the borough of Stockbridge. On that day, Mr Auditor Foley, cousin to the earl of Oxford, made a complaint to the house of three printed pamphlets published under the name of Mr Steele, as containing paragraphs tending to sedition, high ly reflecting upon her majesty, and arraigning her administration and government; which pamphlets being brought up to the table, Steele was ordered to attend in his place next morning. He began his de fence with the usual preface of bespeaking favour to any mistakes that might escape hiin therein ; and spoke for near three hours in vindication of the several heads extracted from his pamphlets. Mr Robert Walpole, his brother Horace, Lord Finch, Lord Lumley, Lord Hinchinbroke, and some other members, spoke with great spirit in favour of Mr Steele, and against the conduct of the ministry. But Mr Foley, Sir William Wyndham, the attorney-general, and some other courtiers, being supported by a great majority, insisted on the question, which at last was carried by 245 voices against 152. And the house resolved, First, " That a printed pamphlet, intituled ' The Englishman,' being the close of a paper so called, and ,one other pamphlet, intituled ' The Crisis,' written by Richard Steele, Esq. a member of the house, are scandalous and seditious libels, containing many expressions highly reflecting upon her majesty, and upon the no bility, gentry, clergy, and universities of this kingdom, maliciously in sinuating, that the protestant succession in the house of Hanover is in danger under her majesty's administration, and tending to alienate the affections bf her majesty's good subjects, and to create jealousies and divisions among them. Secondly, That Richard Steele, Esq. for his offence in writing and publishing the said scandalous and seditious libels, be expelled this house." Steele had determined to exert his talents in the way to which he Period.] RICHARD STEELE. 411 had been so long accustomed, and accordingly began to publish two periodical papers ; the first of whicli, intituled ' The Lover,' appeared on the 25th of February, 1714 ; and the second, called ' The Reader,' on the 22d of April following. In the sixth number of this last paper, he gives an account of his design to write the history of the duke of Marlborough from the date of his Grace's commissions of captain-- general and plenipotentiary, to the expiration of these commissions ; the proper materials for which history were, he tells us, in his custody. But the work never appeared. He wrote, however, several political pieces at this time ; and likewise published a treatise, intituled ' The Romish Ecclesiastical History of late years.' ' The design of this pub lication was to prejudice the cause of the Pretender, which was sup posed to be gaining ground in England ; and there is an appendix subjoined, consisting of particulars very well calculated for this pur pose. : Steele was extremely zealous for the succession of the house of Hanover, and presented to George I. on the 8th of April, 1715, an address — which had been drawn up by himself — from the lieutenancy of Middlesex and Westminster. He had some time before been ap pointed a justice of peace, and one of the deputy-lieutenants for the county of Middlesex : on presenting this address he received the hon our of knighthood, and was soon after appointed surveyor of the royal stables at Hampton- court. He afterwards obtained a share in the pa tent of one of the play-houses, which was productive of considerable emolument to him ; and was elected member of parliament for Borough bridge in Yorkshire. As a member of parliament, Sir Richard Steele appears to have ever behaved with great public spirit and integrity. In 1717 he was appointed one ofthe commissioners for inquiring into the estates forfeited by the rebellion in Scotland, which appointment carried him into that part . of the united kingdom, where he received from some of the nobility and gentry the most flattering marks of re • spect. In 1719, Sir Richard Steele published a letter to the earl of Oxford concerning a bill for limiting the peerage ; which bill he opposed in the house of commons. He also wrote against it in a periodical paper called ' The Plebeian,' which occasioned a very unpleasant contest be tween him and his friend Addison, who wrote against him in another periodical paper called ' The Old Whig.' About this time his license for acting plays was revoked, and his patent rendered ineffectual at the instance of the lord-chamberlain. He had a little before formed a plan of a periodical paper, to be published twice a week, under the title of 'The Theatre,' some numbers of whicli had appeared ; and he now em braced the opportunity of this publication, to give a particular account of the origin and progress of this unfortunate affair, which he did in a spirited letter addressed to his Grace. He published, soon after, « The State of the Case between the Lord-Chamberlain of his majesty's house hold and the Governor of the Royal company of Comedians, with the Opinions of Pemberton, Northy, and Parker, concerning the Theatre.' In this pamphlet he computes the loss he sustained by this proceeding at little less than £10,000. He then declares, that he never did one act to provoke this attempt; "nor does the chamberlain pretend to assign, any direct reason of forfeiture, but openly and wittingly declares ; 412 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth he will ruin Steele ; which," adds our author, " in a man in his circum stances against one in mine, is as great as the humour of Malagene in the comedy, who values himself upon his activity in tripping up cripples." Whilst our author was sinking under this persecution from the hand of power, he was rudely attacked from another quarter. When he be gan his paper called ' The Theatre,' he had assumed the feigned name of Sir John Edgar, and under that appellation he was now very scurri- lously attacked by John Dennis, the noted critic, in a pamphlet entitled, ' The Character and conduct of Sir John Edgar, called by himself sole monarch of the stage in Drury-Iane, and his three deputy-governors ; in two letters to Sir John Edgar.' To this insult our author replied in ' The Theatre ;' but as the importance of the critic's attack was un worthy a serious rebuke, he treated him with his usual gaiety and good humour. In the midst of these private concerns, Sir Richard found time to employ his pen in the service of the public, by writing against the South sea scheme in the year 1720. His first piece on this subject was en titled, ' The Crisis of Property,' which was soon followed by ' A Nation a Family ; or a Plan of the Improvement of the South sea Proposals.' He likewise introduced this matter into ' The Theatre,' and by his spirited opposition to that iniquitous project, greatly increased his re putation as a patriot. When our author's patent for the theatre was revoked, his friend, Sir Robert Walpole, was out of favour at court, having resigned his place of first-commissioner of the treasury ; but in the beginning ofthe year 1721 he was recalled to that station, and Sir Richard soon experienced the benefit of this change, being restored, within a few weeks, to his former office and authority in Drury-lane. This alteration in his circumstances gave Sir Richard new spirits ; and it was not long before he brought upon the stage his celebrated comedy, called, ' The Conscious Lovers,' wbich was acted with the greatest ap plause. The profit of this successful play must have been very consi derable, and he published it soon after, with a dedication to the king, for which his majesty made him a present of five hundred pounds ; but notwithstanding this ample supply, it was not long before he was re duced to such extremity, that he was obliged to throw his affairs into ¦|the hands of lawyers and trustees, in consequence of which his share in the playhouse was sold. He now retired to his seat atLangunnor, near Caermarthen in Wales ; but he had not long been in retirement before he was seized with a paralytic disorder, which greatly impaired his un derstanding. Having languished for some time under this depriva tion of his faculties, he died on the 21st of September, 1729, and was privately interred, according to his own desire, in the church of Caer marthen. WLilliam €on$tt\x. BOBN A. D. 1669 DIED A. D. 1729. This witty dramatic poet was descended from an old Staffordshire family. His father held a command in the army in Ireland, and Period.] WILLIAM CONGREVE. 413 young Congreve, having been carried to that country when a child, received the rudiments of education at Kilkenny school, a college as it was sometimes called. In 1685 he was removed to Trinity college, Dublin. After having studied there for some years he came to England, and entered at the Middle temple. The severe science of jurisprudence proved quite unattractive to Congreve, who soon aban doned his legal studies and commenced a career in more congenial paths. His first production was a novel, which he had the good sense, how ever, to publish anonymously, or rather under a fictitious name. It was entitled ' Incognita, or Love and Duty reconciled.' Its reception was not of a kind calculated to encourage him in the further prosecu tion of this department of light literature ; he therefore turned his atten tion to the drama, and wrote a comedy, called ' The Old Bachelor,' of which Dryden expressed himself in most favourable terms, having de clared to Southerne that " he never saw such a first play in his life," and that all its author wanted, to place himself at the very head of his line of writers, was a little more acquaintance with the manners of the town and the style of the stage. This play, revised and corrected by Dry den, was first acted at Drury-lane, in 1693. The prologue was spoken by Mrs Bracegirdle ; and the epilogue — not remarkable for delicacy — by Mrs Barry. It procured for its author the patronage of Lord Halifax, who appointed him a commissioner for licensing hackney- coaches, and soon after conferred on him some more valuable appoint ments. The next of our author's comedies was called ' The Double Dealer.' It did not prove nearly so successful as the first. The year 1695 was distinguished for its theatrical schisms : amongst other changes in the corps dramatiques, Betterton threw up his former con nexions, and opened a new theatre in Lincolns-Inn-fields, on which oc casion Congreve gave him his ' Love for Love,' which was acted the first night, and took a great run. His ' Mourning Bride' was produced at the same theatre in 1697. There is nothing more licentious in the whole round of the English drama than these comedies of Congreve's. Lord Karnes has justly, though severely, said of them, " that if they did not rack their author with remorse in his last moments, he must have been lost to all sense of virtue." They roused Collier to his indignant attack upon the English stage, — an attack which Congreve attempted, but without suc cess, to parry, — the cause was not defensible, nor was Congreve alto gether a match for his sturdy opponent. Chagrined by his want of success in this rencounter, and still more perhaps by the failure of his next piece, ' The Way of the World,' Congreve retired from the stage, and amused the remainder of his life with the composition of minor poems and translations. Loss of sight from cataracts in both eyes, and severe paroxysms of gout, rendered his declining years very cheerless and gloomy. He died on the 29th January, 1729, and was interred in Westminster-abbey. Voltaire says of Congreve, that he " raised the glory of comedy to a greater height than any English writer before or since his time." This is high praise ; but it may be doubted whether the Frenchman took a correct view of Congreve's comedies. If the real object of the drama be to exhibit human character, .not as it is found and fashioned in pass- 414 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth ing through the author's mind, but as it may be conceived to exist in actual life, English comedy seems little indebted either to Congreve, or his still more brilliant successor, Sheridan. Of the wit and genius of both these dramatists, there can be no doubt ; but their fault lay in casting all their characters in one and the same mould. With them it has been justly said, " Every fop, every boor, every valet, is a man of wit. The very butts and dupes, Tattle, Urkwould, Puff, Acres, outshine the whole Hotel de Rambouillet." This is not to write comedy. It is in deed to hold the mirror up to their own sparkling selves ; but not to Nature. " Congreve's plays," says Mr Leigh Hunt, in his excellent ' London Journal,' " are exquisite of their kind, and the excessive heartlessness and duplicity of some of his characters are not to be taken without allowance for the ugly ideal. There is something not natural, both in his characters and wit ; and we read him rather to see how entertaining he can make his superfine ladies and gentlemen, and what a pack of sensual busy bodies they are, like insects over a pool, than from any true sense of them as ' men and women.' As a companion he must. have been exquisite to a woman of fashion. We can believe tbat the duchess of Marlborough in ignorance of any tragic emotion but what was mixed with his loss, would really talk with a waxen image of him in a peruke, and think the universe contained nothing better. It was carrying wit and politeness beyond the grave. Queen Constance, in Shakspeare, makes grief put on the pretty looks of her lost child : the duchess of Marlborough made it put on a wig and jaunty air, — such as she had given her friend in his monument in Westminster abbey. No criticism on his plays could be more perfect. Congreve's serious poetry is a refreshment, from its extreme insipidity and common-place." gnfljong €ollim. BORN A. D. 1676. — DIED A. D. 1729. This celebrated free-thinker was born in the neighbourhood of Hounslow in Middlesex, in the year 1676, and educated at Eton and Cambridge. He was originally designed for the profession of the law, but not liking it, and being in possession of a competent estate, he soon abandoned the study of jurisprudence, and devoted himself entirely to metaphysical and ethical speculations. His first publication was a tract, entitled 'Several of tbe London Cases Considered.' This appeared in 1700, and procured for him the notice and approbation of no less a personage than John Locke himself, whom we find addressing Collins,, under date October 29th, 1703, in such terms of friendship and compli ment as these : " If I were now setting out in the world, I should think it my great happiness to have such a companion as you, who had a true relish of truth, would in earnest seek it with me, from whom I might receive it undisguised, and to whom I might communicate what I thought true, freely. Believe it, my good friend, to love truth for truth's sake is the principal part of human perfection in this world, and the seed-plot of all other virtues ; and, if I mistake not, you have as much of it as ever I met with in any body. What then is there Period.] ANTHONY COLLINS. 415 wanting to make you equal to the best, — a friend for any one to be proud of?" In another letter, dated from Oates, September 11th, 1704, Locke writes thus : " He that has any thing to do with you, must own that friendship is the natural product of your constitution ; and your soul, a noble soil, is enriched with the two most valuable qualities of human nature, truth and friendship. What a treasure have I then in such a friend, with whom I can converse, and be enlightened about the highest speculations I" These extracts evince, that, at that time, Col lins appeared to Locke in the light of an impartial, disinterested, in quirer after truth. In 1707 Collins published an ' Essay concerning the use of Reason on Propositions, the evidence whereof depends upon Human Testi mony.' In the same year he engaged in the controversy between Dod well and Clarke, on ' The natural Immortality of the Soul.'1 Collins's contribution to this controversy consisted of five successive pieces. We must pass these over in silence with several other minor pieces. In 1713 appeared his famous 'Discourse of Free-thinking,' which created a prodigious sensation ; the object of the writer evidently being to bring discredit not upon superstition merely, but upon Christianity itself. Whiston, Hoadly, Bentley, Hare, Swift, and a host of other as sailants, rushed into the field against the free-thinker, and fully ex posed his ingenious but sophistical argumentation. In 1715 he pub lished ' A Philosophical Enquiry concerning Human Liberty,' to which Dr Samuel Clarke replied. In 1724, he attacked- the twentieth article of the church of England in an elaborate essay, of which the reader will find a very full notice in ' Collier's Ecclesiastical History.' His discourse on the Christian religion appeared in the same year. Its title at length is : ' A Discourse of the Grounds and Reasons of the Chris tian Religion, in two Parts : The first containing some Considerations on the Quotations made from the Old in the New Testament, and par ticularly on the Prophecies, cited from the former, and said to be ful filled in the latter : The second containing an Examination of the Scheme advanced by Mr Whiston, in his Essay towards restoring the true Text of the Old Testament, and for vindicating the Citations thence made in the New Testament. To which is prefixed, An Apolo gy for free Debate and Liberty of Writing.' The drift of this dis course is to show, that Christianity is founded on Judaism, or the New Testament on the Old ; that the apostles prove Christianity from the Old Testament ; that if the proofs fetched from thence are valid, Chris tianity is firmly established on its true foundation, but if invalid, Chris tianity is false ; and that those proofs are typical or allegorical. Whiston, Chandler bishop of Litchfield, Dr Samuel Clarke, Ashley Sykes, Sherlock, and many other writers of inferior name, replied to ' The Discourse of the Grounds,' &c. The reader will find a complete catalogue of the pieces written in reply to this work at the end of the preface to Collins's next work, namely, ' The Scheme of Literal Pro phecy considered,' which was as promptly replied to as its predeces sors had been. Collins died in 1729. It is difficult fairly to estimate the character of this man. That he was an acute and original thinker, none will de- 1 See notice of Dr Samuel Clarke in this work. 416 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth ny ; yet it is marvellous how such a man, while professing to be m search of truth alone, should have resisted the unanswerable reasonings by which such men as Clarke, Bentley, and Sherlock met and confuted his deistical notions. In private life, Collins's character was alto gether unimpeachable. The following notice of his death appeared in the public prints a few days after his decease : " On Saturday last, died at his house in Harley-square, Anthony Collins, Esq. He was re markably the active, upright, impartial magistrate, the tender husband, the kind parent, the good master, and the true friend. He was a great promoter of literature in all its branches ; and an immoveable asserter of universal liberty in all civil and religious matters. Whatever his sentiments were in certain points, this is what he declared at the time of his death, viz. that as he had always endeavoured, to the best of his ability, to serve God, his king, and his country, so he was persuaded he was going to that place which God hath prepared for them that love him : and presently afterwards he said, the catholic religion is to love God and to love man. He was an eminent example of temperance and sobriety, and one that had the true art of living. His worst ene mies could never charge him with any vice or immorality." ftautmct dScffatH. BORN A.D. 1671. — DIED A.D. 1730. This laborious writer was the son of a clergyman in the church of England. He was born at Cassam, near Beccles, in Suffolk, about the year 1671, and educated at Cambridge, where he took the degree of M. A. in 1695. He entered into holy orders, and was presented to the livings of Welton and Elkinton in Lincolnshire, where he spent above twenty years of his life, during which period he published a variety of works of considerable research. One ofhis first publications was entitled, * The Roman History, from the building of the City to the perfect settlement of the Empire by Augustus Caesar.' This was extremely well received, so that the fourth edition, in one volume, 8vo, was published in 1699. He also published ' The History of Rome, from the Settlement ofthe Empire by Augustus Caesar, to the Removal ofthe Imperial Seat of Constantine the Great.' This was said in the title to be " for the use of his highness the duke of Gloucester," to whom it was dedicated ; the second edition, in 8vo, was printed in 1699. Two continuations of this work, one of which was revised by Mr Echard, were afterwards published in three volumes, 8vo. In 1702 our author published in folio, with a dedication to Queen Anne, - A General Ecclesiastical History, from the Nativity of our blessed Saviour, to the first establishment of Christianity by human laws, under the emperor Constantine the Great ; containing the space of about 313 years ; with so much of the Jewish and Roman history as is necessary and convenient to illustrate the work ; to which is added a large Chronological Table of all the Roman and ecclesiastical affairs, included in the same period of time.' This work was so well received, that the sixth edition of it was published in two volumes, 8vo, in 1722. •Prideaux says that " the Ecclesiastical History of Mr Laurence P,!I--0D-] LAURENCE ECHARD. 417 Echard is the best of its kind in the English tongue." In 1707, when he was become prebendary of Lincoln, and chaplain to the bishop of that diocese, he published, in one volume, folio, ' The History of Eng land, from the first entrance of Julius Csesar and the Romans, to the end of the reign of King James the First.' He dedicated this work to the duke of Ormond ; and observes, in the dedication, that he was excited to engage in the undertaking by that nobleman. In his pre face he gives some account of the materials and authors from which his work was collected. He particularly enumerates the Roman, Saxon, English, and monkish historians ; together with Hall, Grafton, Poly dore Virgil, Holinshed, Stow, Speed, Baker, Brady, and Tyrell ; and among the writers of particular lives and reigns, he mentions Barnes, Howard, Goodwin, Camden, Bacon, Herbert, and Habington. " From all these several writers," says he, " and many others, I have collected and formed this present history, always taking tiM liberty either to copy or to imitate any parts of them, if I found them really conducing to the usefulness or the ornament of my work. Arid, from all these, I have compiled ' a history as full, comprehensive, and complete, as I could bring into the compass of the proposed size and bigness. And that nothing might be wanting, I have all the way enriched it with the best and wisest sayings of great men that I could find in larger vo lumes, and likewise with such short moral reflections, and such proper characters of men, as might give life as well as add instruction to the history." In 1712 Mr Echard was installed archdeacon of Stowe, and in 1718 he published the second and third volumes of his history of England, which brings it down to the Revolution. To these volumes he prefixed a dedication to George the First. Dr Calamy found it necessary to answer some of Echard's statements, particularly his mis representations of the nonconformists. Oldmixon too, in his ' Critical History,' exposes not a few of the archdeacon's historical blunders. There is a miscalled epigram in the first volume of Dodsley's ' Collec tion of Poems,' on the respective histories of Echard and Burnet, which may amuse our readers, though it has more of truth than point or poetry in it : — " Gil's history appears to me Political anatomy ; A case of skeletons well done, And malefactors every one. His sharp and strong incisive pen Historically cuts up men, And does with lucid skill impart Their inward ails of head and heart. Laurence proceeds another way, And well-dress'd figures does display : His characters are all in flesh, Their hands are fair, tbeir faces fresh, And from his sweetening art derive A better scent than when alive. He wax-work made to please the sons, Whose fathers were Gil's skeletons." The reader will probably be satisfied with one specimen of Echard's qualifications for the writing of history. After gravely relating, on the testimony of one Lindsey, a story about Cromwell's conference and iv." 3 G 418 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth contract with the devil, on the morning of the battle of Worcester, he adds : " how far Lindsey is to be believed, and how far the story is to be accounted incredible, is left to the reader's faith and judgment, and not to any determination of our own." Echard's ' faith and judgment' were unfortunately too narrow to permit him fairly to swallow such a delightful anecdote of the republican general ; but it was far too good a thing to be lost sight of, and so he offers it to all his readers, in the hope that some might be found sufficiently credulous to receive it for good and authenticated history. Mt Samoa G$ornf)fU. BOBN A.D. 1676. — DIED A.D. 1732. To one of those apparently incidental circumstances in the vicissi tudes of human affairs, England stands indebted for the productions of this great master in the art of historical painting. He was the son of a gentleman claiming descent from an ancient family in Dorsetshire, and was bora in that county in the year 1676. His father enjoyed a competent landed estate ; but by ill-management and dissipation, in volved himself in such difficulties that he was obliged to sell it. This situation of domestic affairs obliged the son to think of applying himself to some profession, by which he might be enabled to support himself in a manner suitable to his birth, and to the expectations he had formed before his father's misfortunes. An early taste for drawing suggested to him the idea of studying the art of painting, and with this view he went to London, where he was protected and encouraged by his uncle, Dr Sydenham. At this period there were no very famous masters of the pictorial art in England : Sydenham was therefore obliged to place his nephew under the direction of a painter of so little eminence, that not even the merit of having had such a pupil as Thomhill has pre served his name from oblivion. The genius of our young artist sup plied the defects of the instructor ; being left to his own taste and ap plication, the force of his imagination was called forth by this very cir cumstance ; and his industry keeping pace with his ingenuity, he made rapid progress, and gradually rose to the highest reputation. His generous patron, as soon as he found him capable to form a judgment ofthe works ofthe great masters of the Flemish and Italian schools, enabled him to travel through Holland, Flanders, and France. Unfortunately, he did not pursue his travels ; for great as his merit was, had he studied at Rome and Venice only a short time, he would cer tainly have acquired greater correctness at the one, and a more exact knowledge of the perfection of colouring at the other, than he possessed. As it was, he excelled in historical and allegorical compositions, and in perspective and architecture. He had a fertile invention ; he sketched his designs with great ease and spirit, and executed them with a free and firm pencil. His merit in his own country was unrivalled, and soon attracted the attention of the patrons of the fine arts, who were indeed but few in number in his time. Queen Anne set the example by appointing him to be state-painter, and emoloying him to paint the history of St Paul, PERIOD ] SIR JAMES THORNHILL. 419 in the dome of St Paul's cathedral. It is executed on eight pannels, in two colours, relieved with gold. He afterwards executed several other works, particularly at Hampton-court palace, where he painted an apartment, in which the queen and her consort, Prince George of Den mark, are represented in allegorical figures on the ceiling. The same subject is executed in another style on the wall. The other paintings in this palace were done by Antonio Verrio, a Neapolitan. These great works having established his reputation, he soon acquired a fortune sufficient to enable him to repurchase the family-estate ; and both wealth and honours were the fruit of his happy genius. He was chosen knight of the shire for Dorsetshire, and in that capacity sat se veral years in parliament. The queen likewise conferred on him the honour of knighthood. His last great undertaking of a public nature, and which is esteemed his master-piece, was the painting in the refec tory and saloon of Greenwich hospital, — a work which is still the daily subject of admiration to the numerous visitors of that magnificent building. The passage to the refectory is through a vestibule, where Sir James has represented, on the cupola, the four winds ; on the walls are boys supporting pannels with inscriptions of the names of the benefactors to the hospital. From this you ascend by a flight of steps to the refec tory, a very noble gallery, in the middle of which King William and Queen Mary are represented allegorically, attended by the emblems of Love and the Virtues, who support the sceptre ; the monarch appears to be giving peace to Europe. The twelve signs of the zodiac surround the great oval in which he is painted ; the four seasons of the year, and Apollo in the chariot of the sun, drawn by four horses, making his tour through the zodiac, are seen above. The painter has represented the four elements in the angles ; and colossal figures support the balus trade, where the portraits of Tycho Brahe, Copernicus, and Newton, are finely painted. The ceiling is all by Sir James's own hand ; but he employed a Polander to assist him in painting the walls, which are adorned with representations of the Virtues, expressive of the design of the institution, such as Liberality, Hospitality, and Charity. All the paintings were executed from designs made by Sir James, but it is to be lamented that they were not all finished by him, for the inferior hand of his assistant is instantly discovered by connoisseurs, who also complain that the figures are too much crowded. Sir James Thornhill enjoyed the honour and emoluments of histori cal painter to the court under George I. and a few years after the ac cession of George II. ; but taking part in the political disputes of the times, he was dismissed from this post in 1731. This undeserved dis grace, it is said, sat heavy at his heart, and contributed to hasten his death, which happened in 1732, at the place of his nativity, after a year's illness. In his person and disposition, Sir James Thornhill was equally happy ; and his engaging manners, joined with his integrity and sobriety, gained him the esteem of all who knew him. 420 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth SfoljiT <&a& BORN A. D. 1688. — DIED A. D. 1732. John Gay was born in 1688, in the vicinity of Barnstaple, in Devonshire. Having received a good grammatical education under the care of Mr Luck, the master of the free-school at Barnstaple, he was, owiDg to the reduced circumstances of his family, destined for trade, and bound an apprentice to a silk-mercer in London. With this occupation, however, he was greatly dissatisfied ; for, hav ing imbibed a taste for poetry and classical literature, he was early dis gusted with the servility and frivolous nature of his employment, and, shortly afterwards, induced his master — who saw his aversion to the busi ness unconquerable — to resign his indentures for a small consideration. On his release he immediately applied himself to the cultivation of poetry, and, in 1711, published his first attempt in verse, entitled ' Ru ral Sports,' which he inscribed to Mr Pope, then nearly of his own age ; and an intimacy took place between the poets in consequence of this literary compliment, that ripened into a friendship equally durable and sincere. In 1712, our author obtained a situation which left him at full liberty to indulge his taste for elegant literature. He was appointed secretary to the duchess of Monmouth, and the public was soon gratified by the product of his leisure. His ' Trivia, or, The Art of Walking the Streets in London,' appeared the same year, and procured him much reputation. It is a fine specimen of that species of burlesque in which elevated language is employed in the detail of trifling, mean, or ludicrous circumstances. He occasionally, however, touches upon subjects of a very different nature. The following description of a fire is minutely correct, and at the same time very impressive : At first a glowing red enwraps the skies, And borne by winds the scatt'ring sparks arise ; From beam to beam the fierce contagion spreads ; The spiry flames now lift aloft their heads ; Thro1 the burst sash a blazing deluge pours, And splitting tiles descend in rattling showers. A more sublime, though not a more accurate picture of this dread ful disaster, has been given us by Darwin, in his ' Botanic Garden.' He is addressing the Aquatic Nymphs : From dome to dome when flames infuriate climb, Sweep the long street, invest the tower sublime, Gild the tall vanes amid tbe astonish'd night, And reddening heaven returns the sanguine light ; While with vast strides and bristling hair aloof, Pale Danger glides along the falling roof, And giant Terror, howling in amaze, Moves his dark limbs across the lurid blaze : Nymphs ! You first taught the gelid wave to rise, Hurl'd in resplendent arches to the skies ; In iron cells condensed the airy spring, And imp'd the torrent with unfailing wing ; PsMor,.] JOHN GAY. 421 ——On the fierce flames the shower impetuous falls, And sudden darkness shrouds the shatter'd walls ; Steam, smoke, and dust in blended volumes roll, And night and silence repossess the pole- — . Gay was now willing to ascertain what were his talents for dramatic composition : from which, should success attend him on the stage, he might justly expect far greater remuneration than from any other de partment of poetry. He produced, therefore, about this period, a farce and a comedy, under the titles of ' The Mohocks,' and ' The Wife of Bath;' they were both, however, unsuccessful, — a. disappointment that was alleviated the succeeding year by the popularity which accompani ed his ' Shepherd's Week,' so called, as it consisted of six pastorals designated by the days of the week. This singular but original work was written to support Pope in his quarrel with Phillips, and was in tended as a burlesque parody upon the pastorals of his rival. " Notwith standing," says Dr Drake, " the vulgarity of manners and coarseness of style which these pieces exhibit, they are, when we dismiss from our minds the caricature intention with which they were composed, so just a picture of genuine nature, and present us with so many natural delineations of rural life, that they became greater favourites with the people than any other productions of the rustic class. In general, indeed, they were read without any reference to, or knowledge of, the dispute which oc casioned their appearance, and are justly considered as representations of nature, of merit equal with the paintings of Heemskirke or Teniers." They were dedicated to Lord Bolingbroke ; and, in return, Gay was nominated secretary to the earl of Clarendon, ambassador to the court of Hanover.' He had scarcely, however, begun to act in his new office, when the death of the queen closed all his prospects from the tory party ; yet he neglected not the opportunity, which his short residence in Hano ver afforded him, of recommending himself to the royal family ; and his attentions would probably have been successful, could the dedication to Bolingbroke have been forgotten, — a political crime which never ceased to operate against all his views of official promotion. He did, however, what lay in his power ; he congratulated the princess of Wales in a poetical epistle on her arrival; and when, in 1715, he brought for ward a dramatic piece, named ' The What d'ye call it,' a kind of mock tragedy, it was patronised and attended both by the prince and princess of Wales ; and, though a mere trifle, acquired for its author a considera ble portion of profit and temporary celebrity. Encouraged by the success of this effort, he again tried his fortune on the stage, in 1717, by the representation of a comedy, entitled, ' Three Hours after Marriage,' with a result, however, very different from what took place on the former occasion ; for, though assisted in its composition by Pope and Arbuthnot, it was universally and deservedly condemned, not only for its farcical incidents, but for its unjust satire on Dr Woodward, a very worthy man, whose virtues should have shielded him from such an attack. Whatever were the emoluments which had hitherto accrued to Gay from his works, they were spent probably as rapidly as they had been obtained ; and it became an object to himself and his friends that some thing permanent should, be the result of his labours. It was proposed, therefore, in 1720, that he should publish his poems by subscription, 422 LITERARY SERIES, [Sixth in 2 vols. 4to, a project by which he cleared a thousand pounds. Pos sessed of what appeared to him so large a sum, he called upon his friends for their direction in the disposal of it to the best advantage ; but like the generality of those who ask advice, he heard their opinions, and pursued his own plan. Mr Lewis, Lord Oxford's steward, advised him to invest it in the funds, and live upon the interest, — Dr Arbuthnot to intrust it to Providence, and live upon the principal, — while Pope and Swift were for purchasing an annuity for life. Instead of securing the enjoyment of it in any of these modes, he chose to purchase South sea stock ; and with the money thus laid out, and a present from Secretary Craggs in the same aerial funds, he at one time firmly believed himself to be the possessor of twenty thousand pounds ; and, it is said, lived according to his expectations I Had he been prudent enough to have sold out in time, as he was urgently requested to do, he might have realized his dreams of wealth ; but, confident in the stability of his speculation, he suffered the irretrievable period to pass, and was shortly afterwards stripped both of profit and principal. So unexpected a reverse was too much for our poet's philosophy ; and, had it not been for the soothing care and attention of his friends, he would have sunk beneath the stroke. The recovery of his health was accompanied by the resumption of his favourite pursuits ; and, having finished a tragedy, he was honoured with an invitation to read it before the princess of Wales. " When the hour came," says Johnson, " he saw the princess and her ladies all iu expectation ; and advancing with reverence, too great for any other attention, stumbled at a stool, and falling forwards threw down a weighty japan screen. The princess started, the ladies screamed, and poor Gay, after all the disturbance, was still to read his play." It is probable, that this incident might give rise to Hawkesworth's paper in the Adventurer, No. 52, on the Distresses of an Author invited to read his play. The tragedy, which was named ' The Captives,' was at length acted at Drury-lane theatre, in 1723, and the author's third night was graced by the presence of their royal highnesses. In the year 1726 appeared the ' Fables' for the instruction ofthe duke of Cumberland, — the most finished production of our poet, and to which he will owe the greater part of his reputation with posterity. " The Fa bles of Gay,'' says Dr Drake, " are written with great spirit and vivacity ; and the versification is, for the most part, smooth and flowing. The scenery and the descriptions are frequently happy and appropriate ; and the incidents are occasionally striking and well-imagined. The defects, however, are equally conspicuous. Of the nature of fable he seems to have entertained a very lax idea ; and many of his pieces are rather tales and allegories than fables. The moral is too often obscure or in apposite ; and he has introduced much too large a portion of satire and political matter. Excellence in the composition of fable, indeed, has been found of rare attainment : Phfedrus and La Fontaine have no rivals; and though Gay may be justly considered as the best writer of these pleasing productions in the English language, he is, without doubt, greatly inferior to the Latin bard in terseness and elegance, — to the French poet in simplicity and naivetd." The political hopes which Gay entertained from the composition of these fables were never gratified. On the accession of George II. when Pk'UOD.] JOHN GAY. 423 he expected the rich reward of all his labours, he found no appointment allotted him but the post of gentleman-usher to the young princess Louisa; a place which he rejected with contempt, and with a high sense of the indignity that had been offered him. A very short time after this event, and while still smarting from the disappointment he had undergone, he produced his celebrated ' Beggar's Opera.' It was acted, in 1727, at Lincoln's-inn-fields, having been refused at Drury-lane ; and the applause and popularity which it ac quired were beyond precedent. It was performed sixty-three nights in succession ; nor was it less a favourite on the provincial theatres. Gay, and Rich, the manager, had both great reason to be satisfied with the result ; and it was humorously remarked by the public, that this opera had made Gay rich, and Rich gay. The object of Gay, in the produc tion of this popular trifle, was to ridicule the Italian opera, and to satirize the court ; and it need scarcely be added, that, for a time, he succeeded to the extent of his wishes. The tendency of the piece, how ever, has been justly reprobated ; and though it did not produce the mischief which some apprehended from its frequent exhibition, it must be allowed to be not only without any moral principle, but in its characters and conduct seductive and dangerous. Spence gives the following account of the origin of this piece : " Dr Swift had been observing once to Mr Gay, what an odd pretty sort of a thing a Newgate pastoral might make. Gay was inclined to try at such a thing for some time ; but afterwards thought it would be better to write a comedy on the same plan. This was what gave rise to ' The Beggars' Opera.' He began on it, and when first he mentioned it to Swift, the doctor did not much like the project. As he carried it on, he showed what he wrote to both of us ; and we now and then gave a correction, or a word or two of advice : but it was wholly of his own writing. When it was done, neither of us thought it would succeed. We showed it to Con greve, who, after reading it over, said, ' It would either take greatly, or be damned confoundedly.' We were all at the first night of it, in great uncertainty of the event, till we were very much encouraged by our hearing the duke of Argyle, who sat in the next box to us, say, ' It will do — it must do- — I see it in the eyes of them.' This was a good while before the first act was over ; and so gave us ease soon, for the duke (beside his own good taste) has as particular a knack as any one now living, in discovering the taste of the public. He was quite right in this, as usual ; the good-nature of the audience appeared stronger and stronger every act, and ended in a clamour of applause.'' Encouraged by the patronage of the public, our author composed a second part, under the title of ' Polly ;' but, owing to the political com plexion of its predecessor, the lord-chamberlain issued a prohibition against its performance, — a circumstance which in the end proved highly favourable to the interests of Gay ; for his friends, stimulated by the opposition, exerted themselves so effectually in obtaining a subscription for its publication, that he acquired near twelve hundred pounds by the expedient, — a sum greatly superior to the profits ofthe ' Beggar's Opera.' Nor was this the only good consequence which resulted from the inter ference of the court-party. The duke and duchess of Queensbury, who had a sincere regard for Gay, received him into their bouse, — treated him with every respect and attention, — and undertook the regulation of 424 LITERARY SERIES. [SlMB liis finances, a task to which the poet had ever proved himself inade quate. He was now no longer at the mercy of fortune ; but, as life is neces sarily chequered with evil, no sooner was he released from pecuniary anxiety than his health began to decline. He had for some years been subject to returns of a complaint in his stomach and bowels, which now became more frequent and violent ; and he was at length seized with an inflammation of these organs, which proved more than commonly rapid in its progress, and he expired on the 4th of December, 1732, in the forty-fourth year of his age. " Few men," says Dr Drake, whose notice of our poet we have nearly adopted in the above sketch, " were more beloved by those who in timately knew him than Gay ; his moral character was excellent ; his temper peculiarly sweet and engaging ; but he possessed a simplicity of manner and character which, though it endeared him to his friends, rendered him very unfit for the general business of life. He was, in fact, as Pope has emphatically observed, ' In wit, a man; simplicity, a child.' " Independent of the compositions which we have enumerated, Gay was the auther of the ' Fan,' a mythological fiction ; of ' Dione,' a pastoral drama ; of ' Achilles,' an opera, not acted until after his death ; and of several minor poems, among which the pathetic beauties of the two bal lads, commencing ' All in the Downs,' and ''Twas when the Seas were Roaring,' have, without doubt, been felt by all our readers. To these may be added some posthumous productions ; a second volume of his Fables, not equal to the first ; the ' Distrest Wife,' a comedy ; and a humorous effusion, entitled ' The Rehearsal at Gotham.' " He was the author also of a paper in the Guardian, No. 149, on dress ; a subject which, though not very promising, being frivolous in it self, and nearly worn out by others, he has contrived to render the vehicle both of originality and wit. For these acquisitions, he is in debted to the ingenuity of his parallel between poetry and dress ; which he has supported with much fancy and spirit, accompanied by a pretty large portion of justifiable satire. " The dress of our ancestors, at the commencement of the eighteenth century, with all its follies and mutabilities, may be very accurately drawn from the various sketches interspersed among the papers of Steele and Addison ; and, though we may be rather inclined to complain of the too frequent recurrence of the subject, there is, most undoubtedly, a pleasure to be derived from contemplating the drapery and decoration of beauty and fashion, as they existed a century ago, especially when these portraits are grouped. and coloured by masters of such acknow ledged skill and fidelity." Pcmoo.j 425 ©r $oi)it SSrtutgpiat1 DIED a. D. 1 734-5. John Arbuthnot, the son of a clergyman of the episcopal church of Scotlapd, and allied to the noble family from which he derived his name, was born at Arbuthnot, near Montrose, not long after the Re storation. Having at a proper age entered the university of Aberdeen, he applied himself with diligence to his studies, and ultimately took his doctor's degree. His father, not accommodating himself to the change of affairs at the Revolution, forfeited his living, and retired to a small estate of his own, while John and his brothers were compelled to look to their own exertions for their livelihood. Dr Arbuthnot re solved to push his fortunes in London, where he was hospitably received into the house of Mr William Pate, where he resided for some time, and supported himself by teaching the mathematics. While he was thus employed, Dr Woodward, in 1695, published his ' Essay towards a Natural History of the Earth ;' a work to which Arbuthnot wrote an answer in 1697, under the title of ' An Examination of Dr Wood ward's Account of the Deluge,' &c. ; which, considering the imperfect acquaintance at that time with the science of geology, may be ac counted a learned performance. It "certainly laid the foundation of Arbuthnot's fame, which was much extended by an essay he pub lished in 1700, ' On the Usefulness of the Mathematics to young students in the universities.' This is a production of very great merit ; perhaps there is nothing on the same subject superior to it in our lan guage. Had Dr Arbuthnot written nothing besides, this tract alone would have raised him to a considerable rank in the republic of letters. No person, it has been said, who is unacquainted with the mathematics, can peruse it without being made painfully sensible of the inferiority to which his ignorance depresses him. The advantages which he so con vincingly demonstrates to accrue to the mind from mathematical stu dies, are principally these : — 1st, They induce and confirm a habit of attention. 2d, They accustom to close and demonstrative reasoning. 3d, They emancipate the mind from prejudice, credulity, and supersti tion. Through the whole, the Doctor manifests his comprehensive learning, . and intimate acquaintance with the discoveries which at that time had been made in every part of philosophy. His practice in creasing with his reputation, he now became known to many of the most celebrated men of his day, and was, in 1704, elected a fellow of the Royal society, to which a few years after he communicated a pa per, which is printed in the Philosophical transactions, entitled, ' Of the Regularity of the Births of both Sexes.' Among the innumerable footsteps, he says,. of Divine Providence, there is a very remarkable one to be observed in the exact balance that is maintained between the num bers of men and women. He is of opinion that this equality of births has no probable cause in physics ; and the scholium which he draws 1 In this, and a few other instances, we have departed from a rigid adherence to the {llan of our work, as expressed in the title ; no history of the Augustan age of English iterature would have been complete without a notice of T)r Arbuthnot. ir 3 h 426 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth from the whole is, that polygamy is contrary to the law of nature, and injurious to the propagation of the human race. In 1705, Prince George of Denmark was suddenly taken ill at Ep som, and Dr Arbuthnot being on the spot, was called to his assistance. The result of his attendance on the prince was his appointment as phy sician-extraordinary to Queen Anne. In 1709 this appointment was followed by that of fourth physician in ordinary; and in 1710 he was admitted a fellow of the college of physicians. The confidence reposed in him by his royal mistress appears by the terms in which he is spoken of by Swift, who calls him " the queen's favourite physician," and again " the queen's favourite;" Being thus distinguished by his professional abilities, his influence at court, and his literary attainments, Arbuthnot acquired the friendship not only of the leading men of his party, as Harley and Bolingbroke, but that of all the wits and scholars of his time. On Swift's visit to London in 1710, astrict intimacy was formed between them, and soon after Pope was added to the number of his friends. In the year 17.12 appeared the first part of ' The History of John Bull,' of which it has been justly said, that " never was a political allegory managed with more exquisite humour, or a more skilful adap tation of characters and circumstances." The doubt entertained re specting the author of this satire, has been dispelled by Swift and Pope, who both distinctly attribute it to Dr ArbuthnOt. -;Pope declares that Arbuthnot was the " sole author." The object of this highly hu morous production was to throw ridicule upon the splendid achieve ments of Marlborough, and, if possible, to render1 the country discon tented with the war. Arbuthnot — who was one of that literary phalanx attached to the fortunes of Harley and the tories — was aware how en tirely that minister's power depended on a peace with France, and, therefore, he applied all the vigour, of his wit to the .accomplishment of that end; and. there is every reason to. believe that the * History of John Bull' was eminently efficacious in forwarding the purposes of the tories. The ingenuity of the story, united to its intelligible-, straight forward, comic humour, procured for it a favourable reception every where; but to politicians, the exquisite, skill of its satire gave it a pecu liar relish. After the accession of the house of Hanover, a supplement to the ' History' appeared ; but it has been doubted whether this is a genuine production of Arbuthnot's pen. or not. Some are of opinion that the two first parts, as printed in Swift's works, are all that pro ceeded from Arbuthnot. ..,¦¦. Early in the year 1714 he engaged with Pope and Swift in a design of writing a satire on the abuses of human learning in every branch. The execution of it was to be in the manner of Cervantes, under, the history of some feigned adventures. The name by which the intended hero was to be called, was now assigned to that assemblage of wits' and learned of whieh these three formed the nucleus, and it was called the " Scriblerus club." Harley, Atterbury, Congreve, and Gay, were members. In this brilliant collection of learning and genius, no one was better qualified, both in point of wit and erudition, than Dr Ar buthnot, to promote the object of the society, which was to ridicule the absurdities of false taste in learning, under the character of a man of capacity enough, but no judgment, who had industriously dipped Psr-'OD] JOHN ARBUTHNOT. 427 into every art and science. But the prosecution of this noble design, at least in a regular way, was prevented by the queen's death, which deeply affected Pope, Swift, and Arbuthnot, who were all of them warmly attached to Lord Oxford's ministry ; and a final period was afterwards put to the project, by the separation and growing infirmities of Dean Swift, by the bad health of Dr Arbuthnot, and other concur ring causes. The incomplete essay towards this design, entitled • The first book of the Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus,' excites deep regret that its progress should have been checked. " Polite letters," says the learned editor, of Pope's works, *' never lost more than in the defeat of this scheme ; in the execution of which work this illustrious tri umvirate would have found exercise for his own peculiar talents, besides constant employment for those they all had in common. Dr Arbuth not was skilled in every thing which related to science ; Mr Pope was a master in the fine arts ; and Dr Swift excelled in the knowledge of the world. Wit they had all in equal measure ; and this so large, that no age perhaps ever produced three men to whom nature had more bountifully bestowed it, or in whom art had brought it to higher per fection." A portion of their labours still survives in three inimitable pieces: — the first book of 'Martinus Scriblerus;' the 'Travels of Gulliver;' and the 'Art of Sinking in Poetry.' Of these, the first book pf ' Scriblerus' was published after the death of Dr Arbuthnot in 1741, in the quarto edition of Pope's prose works; the ' Travels rof Gulliver' in 1726 ; and the ' Art of Sinking' in the miscellanies of Pope and Swift, in 1727. There seems to be every reason to believe that, of the three pieces above-mentioned, Arbuthnot was the sole author of the first, Swift of the second, and Pope of the third, The Scriblerus has, it is true, been printed in the collected editions of the works both of Swift and Pope; yet the internal evidence is sufficient to prove it the entire production of Arbuthnot, . to whom Warton has attributed the fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, tenth, and twelfth chapters, " whatever may be determined of the other parts of the memoirs." The medical and antiquarian knowledge displayed in the other chapters, and the ridicule on Dr Woodward in the third, afford strong presump tion of their having the same origin as the rest. The humorous essay concerning the origin of the sciences, which is usually appended to the memoirs of Scriblerus, appears from Spence to be a joint production of Arbuthnot, Pope, and Parnell. The death of the queen was the finishing blow to the hopes of the tories. Never was the dispersion of a party more complete- Arbuth not too felt severely the change in his circumstances ; but, even whilst writhing under the painful mortification which usually, or but too fre quently, attends a reverse of fortune, his satirical humour and spirit of wit turned the very cause of his pain into objects of diversion. In a letter of condolence to Swift, he thus writes : " I have an opportunity calmly and philosophically to consider that treasure of vileness and baseness that I always believed to be in the heart of man, and to be hold them ejcert their insolence and baseness ; every new instance, in stead of surprising and grieving me, as it does some of my friends, really diverts me,-^— and in a manner proves my theory." In a subsequent letter, a still more deplorable account is given ot the misfortunes in which the queen's death had involved her courtiers ; 428 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth " The queen's poor servants are like so many poor orphans exposed in the streets." Arbuthnot himself was compelled to quit his apartments in St James' palace, and take a house in Dover street, where he en deavoured to forget his political anxieties in literary occupation. His spirits appear to have suffered considerably at this time, for, in a letter to Pope, dated September 7th, 1714, he says: "I am extremely obliged to you for taking notice of a poor, old, distressed courtier, com monly the most despicable thing in the world. This blow has so roused Scriblerus, that he has recovered his senses, and thinks and talks like other men. From being frolicsome and gay, he is turned grave and morose." This depression of spirits, however, had not given him a distaste for the society of his friends : " Martin's office," he adds, " is now the second door on the left hand in Dover street, where he will be glad to see Dr Parnell, Mr Pope, and his old friends, to whom he can still afford a half-pint of claret." Among all the political opponents of the tories, none appear to have incurred greater odium than Burnet, whose honest relation of the his tory of his own times excited at once the fear and the spleen of his enemies. To ridicule that valuable work, even before its publication, all the literary talent of the tories was put in requisition, and Arbuth not performed his share ofthe task; at least, there is a piece printed at the end of his miscellaneous works, which bears evidence, both internal and external, of its being an emanation from the mind of Arbuthnot, and which has for its object the ridicule of the bishop of Sarum. The title runs thus : ' Notes and Memorandums of the six Days preceding the Death of a Right Reverend , containing many Remarkable Passages, with an Inscription designed for his Monument.' Such is its keen and comic humour, that a short extract will probably not be unacceptable to the reader. The personal vanity and egotism of Burnet are thus unmercifully ridiculed : " Sunday — Wake at four : Reflect on the strange somnations of the night. Remember the saying of Horace, velut agn somnia ; what have I to do with heathen poets? the soul must be immortal, but not DodweU's way. Asgill a fool : no man can be translated but from one see to another : there is some sense in that, verily I Spectres, pointed fires, headless mortals, visionary elysiums, creatures of the fancy. That part of the dream about walking on a great bridge, and falling from thence into a boundless ocean, where I sunk down and saw at the bottom, Daniel Burgess, William Pen, &c. carries a fine allegory. Nothing at all in it, however. The Lord has more work for me to do still. Call for my man Jonathan. Brings a candle. Fancy Jonathan looks like Death. Say a prayer and a half of my own. Jonathan and I reason thus about death. " Mast. — Suppose you aie Death, tell me what you would say to me now, Jonathan. " Jonath — I Death I no Sir, I can't be Death ; nay, I am no relation of his ; never saw him in my life, Sir. " Mast. — Thou man of carnal understanding and gross ignorance ; thou and every worm (for what is man but a worm ?) art related to him I Life and Death are akin, as much as flesh and corruption : there fore suppose thyself Death, and speak to me in his name. " Jonath — In the name of Death, then, what is it you would have, Sir ? Period.] JOHN ARBUTHNOT. 429 " Mast. — You must say you are come to visit me, and ask me some questions ; and I will reply to you. This will fortify my spirits, and make me less afraid of real Death when he approaches. " Jonath. — I come, Sir, to tell you that you have lived long enough, and enjoyed the good things of the world : it is not fit you should live to be a week older : your sense and reason are gone : you are a burden to the earth : repent and come away with me. " Mast. — That is too much. You should have left out burden ofthe earth, and those things : I see you don't understand my meaning. No more of this. " Jonathan departs. Think of his stupidity. It could not be out of design — he thinks his master mad. Rise at seven. Indisposition in creases. Send for a list of the Lent preachers : make pishes at some names. Will it come to my turn ? St Andrews, a large parish : a great many odd saints' names about this town should be abolished. The almanacks ought to be corrected. Red letters abomination. Re solve to see nobody to-day. Resolve to drink three quarts of water- gruel instead of my tea. Sick, very sick, — call for my man : order him to bring the folio in manuscript of my own life and times. Consider what a great name I shall leave behind me. Doctor Wellwood stole his memoir from my conversation. If he has gained a great reputa tion, I shall certainly. Better than Thuanus. Man brings the book ; begin to read : an excellent preface : very happy at prefaces. Courts of Charles and James : juggling, tricking, mistresses, whores spiritual and temporal ; French money, more money ; slavery, popery, arbitrary power, liberty, plots, Italy, Geneva, Rome, Titus Oates, Dangerfield ; money again ; peace, war, war, peace ; more money. Lay down this book. Reflect how I came to know all this : Lord L — ale, a good deal : R 1 a good deal more : the king some. Conferences with great men : informations : multitudes of pamphlets. Cabinetted twice in one day : absconded a week : appeared again : run away : hactenus hy the sergeant-at-arms, and resumed his seat. But many persons, iv. 3 L 450 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth particularly the new members from Scotland, in this first session of the first British parliament, thought it a disgrace, that a debtor, who en joyed his liberty only under privilege, should sit in the house ; and it was resolved to make the publication, which had given such general offence, the ground of his expulsion. A committee was appointed, which reported that the book contained several blasphemous expres sions, and seemed intended to expose the scriptures ; and, notwithstand ing a very spirited defence, in which Asgill solemnly protested, that he did not publish the treatise with any intention to expose the scriptures, but under a firm belief of their truth, as well as of the truth of his ar gument, he was expelled- From this time Asgill grew daily more involved in debt ; and he was soon laid in the King's-bench prison by his creditors. Here he remained through the long period of thirty years, furnishing himself with amusement, and occasional supplies, by writing pamphlets, chiefly political, against the Pretender, and by practising in the way of his pro fession. Notwithstanding misfortunes, which must have been at least accompanied with a consciousness of indiscretion, he retained great vivacity of spirits, and powers of entertaining conversation, till his death, which happened in the rules of the King's-bench in 1738, at the age of fourscore, or, according to some accounts, of near a hundred Cfjomas Cuittll. BORN A.D. 1686 DIED A.D. 1740. This gentleman, well-known to the world by the friendship and in timacy which subsisted between him and Mr Addison, was the son of the Rev. Richard Tickell, and was born in 1686, at Bridekirk in Cum berland. In 1701 he was sent to Queen's college, Oxford ; in 1708 he was made master of arts, andin 1710 was chosen fellow; for which, as he did not comply with the statutes by taking orders, he obtained a dispensation from the crown. In the year 1 726 he married at Dublin, and in that year vacated his fellowship. While he was at the university he addressed some verses to Mr Addison on his opera of ' Rosamond,' which so effectually recommended him to that gentleman tbat he held him in esteem ever afterwards. He produced another piece of the same kind on ' Cato,' but not with equal happiness. When Mr Addison went into Ireland, as secretary to Lord Sunderland, he carried Tickell with him and employed him in business; and when he afterwards, in 1717, rose to be secretary of state, he conferred the place of under-secretary on Mr Tickell. On Mr Addison's resigning the secretaryship, Mr Craggs, who succeeded him, continued Tickell in his place, which he held till that gentleman's death. Addison had communicated to Sir Richard Steele his design of preferring Mr Tickell to be his under-secretary, which Sir Richard warmly opposed. He observed that Tickell was of a temper too en terprising to be governed. This produced a great animosity between Sir Richard and Tickell, which subsisted during their lives. Tickell, in his life of Addison, prefixed to his own edition of that great man's works— for when Addison died he left him the charge of publishing his Period.] THOMAS TICKELL. 451 works — throws out some unmannerly reflections against Sir Richard, who was at that time in Scotland as one of the commissioners on the forfeited estates. Upon Sir Richard's return to London he dedicated to Mr Congreve, Addison's comedy, called ' The Drummer,' in which he took occasion, very smartly, to retort upon Tickell, and clear him self of the imputation laid to his charge, namely, that of taking to him self the merit of Mr Addison's papers in ' The Spectator.' About the year 1713, Tickell published ' The Prospect of Peace,' addressed to his excellency the lord-privy-seal, which met with so favourable a reception from the public, that six editions were speedily sold. Upon this poem Addison bestowed many encomiums. ' The Royal Progress,' which Mr Tickell meant as a compliment to George I. on his arrival in the British dominions, is also mentioned in ' The Spec tator' in opposition to such performances as are generally written in a swelling style, and in which the bombast is mistaken for the sublime. His imitation of ' The Prophecy of Nereus' was written about the year 1.715, and was intended as a ridicule upon the earl of Mar's enterprise, which he prophecies will be crushed by the duke of Argyle. The ' Epistle from a Lady in England to a Gentleman at Avignon,' stands high among party-poems. The great propensity of the Jacobites to place confidence in imaginary means, and to construe all extraordinary appearances into ominous signs of the restoration of their king, is most happily noticed in this poem. ' Kensington Gardens' is the longest of Tickell's poems. The fiction is framed partly of Grecian deities and partly of Gothic fairies. The versification is harmonious, and the lan guage elegant. . Tickell's translation of the first book of ' The Iliad' was published much about the same time with Pope's. Steele, in his dedication of .' The Drummer' to Mr Congreve, gives it as his opinion that Addison was himself the author. Pope also considered Addison as the writer of Tickell's version. These translations, published at the same time, were certainly meant as rivals to one another. We cannot convey a more adequate idea of this than in the words of Pope, in a letter to James Craggs, Esq. dated 15th July, 1715. " Sir, — They tell me the busy part of the Dation are not more busy about whig and tory than these idle fellows of the feather, about Mr Tickell's and my transla tion. I, like the tories, have the town in general, that is, the mob, on my side; but it is usual with the smaller party to make up in industry what they want in number, and that is the case with the little senate of Cato. However, if our principles be well considered, I must appear a brave whig, and Mr Tickell a rank tory. I translated Homer for the public in general, he, to gratify the inordinate desires of one man only. We have, it seems, a great Turk in poetry who can never bear a brother on the throne ; and has his mutes too, a set of meddlers, wink ers, and whisperers, whose business it is to strangle all other offsprings of-wit in their birth. The new translator of Homer is the humblest slave he has, that is to say, his first minister: let him receive the honours he gives me, but receive them with fear and trembling : let him be proud of the approbation of his absolute lord ; I appeal to the people as my rightful judges and masters ; and if they are not inclined to condemn me, I fear no arbitrary high-flying proceeding from the court-faction at Button's. But after all I have said of this great man, 452 LITERARV SERIES. [Sixth there is no rupture between us ; we are each of us so civil and obliging that neither thinks he is obliged ; and I, for my part, treat with him as ve do with the grand monarch, who has too many great qualities not to be respected, though we know he watches any occasion to oppress us." Pope did not long consider Tickell as the translator of the first book of the ' Iliad.' He suspected that version to have been Addison's ; and the reasons for his suspicion we shall literally transcribe from Mr Spence's ' Collection.' " There had been a coldness between Mr Addison and me for some time, and we had not been in company together for a good while any where but at Button's coffee-house, where I used to see him almost every day. On his meeting me there one day in par- - ticular, he took me aside, and said he should be glad to dine with me at such a tavern, if I staid till those people were gone — Budgell and Phillips. We went accordingly, and after dinner Mr Addison said that he had wanted for some time to talk with me ; that his friend Tickell had formerly, while at Oxford, translated the first book of the ' Iliad ;' that he designed to print it, and had desired him to look it over ; that he must therefore beg that I would not desire him to look over my first book, because if he did it would have the air of double- dealing. I assured him that I did not at all take it ill of Mr Tickell that he was going to publish his translation ; that he certainly had as much right to translate any author as myself, and that publishing both was entering on a fair stage. I then added that I would not desire him to look over my first book of the ' Iliad,' because he had looked over Mr Tickell's, but could wish to have the benefit of his observations on my second, which I had then finished, and which Mr Tickell had not touched upon. Accordingly I sent him the second book next morning, and Mr Addison a few days afterwards returned it with very high com mendations. Soon after it was generally known that Mr Tickell was publishing the first book of the ' Iliad,' I met Dr Young in the street, and upon our falling into that subject the Doctor expressed a great deal of surprise at Tickell's having had such a translation so long by him. He said that it was inconceivable to him, and that there must be some mistake in the matter ; that each used to communicate to the other whatever verses they wrote, even to the least things; that Tickell could not have been busied in so long a work there without his know ing something of the matter ; and that he had never heard a single word of it till on this occasion. This surprise of Dr Young, together with what Steele has said against Tickell in relation to this affair, make it highly probable that there was some underhand-dealing in that business ; and indeed Tickell himself, who is a very fair worthy man, has since in a manner as good as owned it to me — (Mr Pope.) « When it was introduced into a conversation between Mr Tickell and Mr Pope by a third person, Tickell did not deny it, which, consider ing his honour and zeal for his departed friend, was the same as owning it." Upon these suspicions Pope always, in his * Art of Sinking,' quotes this book as the work of Addison. In June, 1724, Mr Tickell was appointed secretary to the lords- justices of Ireland, a place of great honour, and which he held till his death, which happened at Bath, on the 23d of April, 1740. Pmuor.] 453 -Zftmutt* mallt£. BORN A. D. 1656.— DIED A. D. 1742. This distinguished astronomer and mathematician was born in the village or hamlet of Huggerstone, in the neighbourhood of London, in the year 1656. His father was a soap-manufacturer, and had amassed a large fortune in that business. His son Edmund early displayed very promising abilities, which induced the family to think he might be fitted for some better occupation than that of a soap-boiler. He was therefore placed at a suitable age in St Paul's school, where the learned Dr Thomas Gale was head-master. Here he made rapid progress in classical attainments, and at the age of fifteen became captain of the school. His attainments were even then not limited to the classics. His taste and inclinations seemed to incline to mathematics, in which, before the age of sixteen, he had made very respectable progress. So early as his seventeenth year he had observed the variations of the magnetic needle, and had acquired considerable knowledge of astronomy. In the year 1673, he entered as a commoner of the Queen's college, Ox ford, where he applied with extraordinary diligence to mathematics and astronomy. His father, though no philosopher, had acuteness enough to perceive the bent of his son's mind, and was willing to afford him every encouragement in its cultivation. No expense was spared in supplying him with books and instruments of all kinds. Such was the early and rapid progress of young Halley, that at the age of nine teen he communicated to the world ' The direct and geometrical Method of finding the Aphelia and Eccentricity of the Planets,' a de sideratum which had been long sought by astronomers. Soon after he made other improvements in the science of astronomy ; and in June, 1675, determined the motion ofthe sun on its own axis by discovering a spot on its surface, a fact which was not previously ascertained. The same year he made another important discovery ; the occultation of Mars by the moon, which enabled him to determine the longitude of the Cape of Good Hope in opposition to the theory of the French philosophers. While he remained at Oxford, he made several other important and Useful discoveries, particularly the motions of Saturn and Jupiter, and the method of constructing eclipses of the sun, &c. He proceeded with great avidity and eminent success to prosecute his researches, and formed the design of completing the scheme of the whole heavens, by the addition of those stars which lie too near the south pole to be ob served by the astronomer in these northern parts of the world. He announced his intention to the secretary of state, Sir Joseph William son, and other official persons. He was accordingly supplied with a letter from his majesty, Charles II. to the East India company, who engaged to convey him to the island of St Helena, and supply him with every accommodation necessary for his purpose. At the age of twenty he embarked upon this undertaking ; and, in three months, was pursuing his observations at the appointed spot. In two years he returned home, having completed a planisphere, in which, with the ut most accuracy, he had laid down the exact places of all the stars near 454 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth the south pole. His labours were presented to the king, who was pleased to express his high gratification, and to grant him a letter of mandamus to the university of Oxford for the degree of M. A. The same year he was elected fellow of the Royal society. In the year 1679, Mr Halley gave his catalogue to the world, and the same year was chosen by the Royal society to go to Dantzic, to settle a dispute between M. Hevelius and Mr Hook, respecting the accuracy of some astronomical observations. After his return to London he resolved upon what was termed the grand tour, in company with his friend Mr Nelson. On the road between Calais and Paris, Mr Halley made the discovery of the comet of that year, as it appeared the second time, on its return from the sun. He was enabled to complete his observations upon it from the observatory at Paris. One principal object of this tour was to establish a friendly correspondence between the philosophers of Greenwich and of France and other places, as well as to improve himself by intercourse with Cassini and other eminent astronomers. From France he went into Italy, and spent there nearly the whole of the year 1681. He then returned to England, and, in 1682, married a daughter of Mr Tooke, auditor of the exchequer. He fixed his resi dence at Islington, and continued to pursue his studies with the utmost diligence. Soon after he published his ' Theory of the Variations of the Compass ;' and, about the same time, entered upon a new method of determining longitudes by the moon's motion. His studies were, however, at this period somewhat interrupted by the death of his father, who had fallen into indigent circumstances, partly through losses sustained in the fire of London, and partly through an imprudent second marriage. His own family also rapidly increased, which tended, in some degree,- to embarrass his studies. However, he rose above all these difficulties, and continued his important pursuits with the utmost zeal and diligence. In or about 1684, he first obtained the acquaint ance of Newton, at Cambridge, whither he went to consult him respect ing some difficulties in his calculations, which he could find no mathe maticians to assist him in. It will be readily supposed the two philo sophers were mutually delighted. It is said that Halley, finding Newton possessed of so rich a fund of philosophy, prevailed upon him to give it to the world, and that, in some measure, the publication of the ' Principia' is to be traced to this interview. That immortal work appeared soon after, and Mr Halley, to whom Newton intrusted the editing of it, prefixed a discourse of his own and some elegant Latin verses. About a year before the appearance of the ' Principia,' Halley had been appointed assistant-secretary to the Royal society. After this appointment he read several valuable papers, and published some important works on various points of astronomy, all of a useful practi cal nature, and tending greatly to the advancement of science. In the course of ten years he produced about thirty dissertations on a great variety of subjects ; natural philosophy, antiquities, philolo gy, and criticism. In 1691 he applied for the vacant Savilian professorship of astronomy at Oxford, but lost it on account of his infidelity ; — for, strange as it may seem, this acute and able philoso pher was a disbeliever and even a banterer of religion. He was, however, open and frank in his acknowledgment of infidelity, and not like many philosophers who profess friendship for religion, only Pk11'od-1 EDMUND HALLEY. 455 the more effectually to betray and wound it. Mr Halley continued in his secretaryship to the Royal society only seven years. In 1692 he resigned it for the office of comptroller of the mint at Chester, which was one of the five different mints appoiuted for the recoinage of the- silver specie. He remained in this situation, residing at Chester, two years ; but continued his philosophical studies, and communicated their results regularly to the Royal society. In 1698 he procured a vessel from King William, and set out to make observations on the needle, and to determine latitudes and longitudes for our American settlements ; but was obliged to return home on account of the sickness and untrac- tableness of his men. In a few months he set sail with two ships under his command, and traversed the vast Atlantic ocean from one hemi sphere to the other, as far as the southern ice would allow. He returned in the year 1700, and published a chart showing at one view all the variations of the compass in those seas known to British navigators Soon after, he received a commission to observe the course of the tides in the British channel, and to lay down the latitudes and longitudes of all the head lands. This task he executed with eminent ability and despatch. He was subsequently employed by the emperor of Ger many in some surveys for ports, and received marks of high respect from several foreign courts. In 1703 he returned to England, and was chosen, the same year, to the office of Savilian professor of geometry in Oxford. There he was created doctor of laws. Speedily he entered upon a new work. He undertook to translate, out of the Arabic, ' Apollonius de Seetione Ratione.' This work he undertook when he was wholly unacquainted with Arabic. In 1706 the whole was published by him at Oxford, notwithstanding the imperfections and mutilations of the manuscript which he had to decypher and translate. This was followed by several other learned works on mathematics. In 1713 he was appointed secretary to the Royal society, and in 1719 astronomer royal at Greenwich. Two years after, he gave up his secretaryship, that he might appropriate his whole time to the studies suited to his new office, particularly to the completion of his theory re specting the moon's motion. He was now in his sixty-fourth year, yet he performed all the business of the observatory himself, without an assistant, for the space of eighteen years. In 1729 he was admitted a member of the academy of sciences at Paris. He continued his labor ious pursuits almost without interruption, till the year 1737, when a paralytic affection seized his right hand. From this period he gradually sunk under the influence of disease, though for several years he con tinued to enjoy the society of his friends, and usually came to London every Thursday, prior to the assembling of the Royal society, to meet the club, known yet by the name of Dr Halley 's club. He died in his chair without a groan, January 14th, 1741-2, in his eighty-sixth year. Dr Halley was a thin and rather tall man, of a lively disposition, and of a warm, though not hot or violent temper. He is said to have pre served much gaiety and good humour throughout life, and to have been exceedingly warm and sincere in his friendships. He preserved his faculties to the last, though these were gilded by none of those rays, falling from another world, which have gilded the last hours of philoso phers not less eminent than Halley, who thought it no degradation to profess their faith in brighter revelations than any philosophy had ever 456 LITERARY SERIES. [Sixth made to them. Dr Halley 's works, distinct, were numerous, and his papers in the Philosophical transactions, still more so. They are to be found from volume xi. to volume lx. Mtafyam <#?)arjj. BORN CHIC. a. D. 1651. — DIED A. D. 1742. This distinguished mathematician and astronomer was born at Lit- tle-Horton, near Bradford, in Yorkshire, about the middle of the 17th century. His father was nearly related to Archbishop Sharp. His mother was a sister ofthe celebrated nonconformist divine, David Clark son. Abraham was at first apprenticed to a merchant at Manchester ; but, on his discovering a decided taste and bent for mathematical studies, his master consented to release him from his indenture. In early life we find him supporting himself by keeping a school for writ ing and accounts in Liverpool. His spare hours at this time were ex clusively devoted to the pursuit of his favourite science. An accidental circumstance having introduced him to a London merchant then visit ing Liverpool, in whose house the astronomer Flamsteed then resided, young Sharp, in the hope of gaining the acquaintance of so great a man, eagerly embraced the merchant's offer to take him to London in the capa city of a clerk. Having been thus introduced to Flamsteed, the astronomer soon discovered the merits and acquisitions of the young mathematician, and engaged his assistance in completing and arranging the astronomi cal apparatus of the Royal observatory at Greenwich. In this situation he assisted the astronomer royal in his observations on the meridional zenith distances of the heavenly bodies, also in making a catalogue of the fixed stars. The tables in the second volume of the ' Historia Ccelestis' were principally drawn up by Mr Sharp, together with the explanatory charts and drawings annexed, and which, though engraved by a superior artist in Amsterdam, were much exceeded in elegance and graphic beauty by the originals furnished by Mr Sharp. These exertions, however, soon told upon a constitution at no time strong ; and Sharp was compelled to retire to his own house at Horton, where he fitted up an observatory of his own. His mechanical skill was no wise inferior to his mathematical ; for most of his instruments were of his own constructing, and even the lenses of his telescopes, as well as the exterior parts, were prepared and adjusted by himself. In 1699 Mr Sharp, for his own amusement, undertook an approxi mation to the quadrature of the circle deduced from two different series, which he proved to seventy-two places of figures. Mr Smeaton regards Mr Sharp as the first persoii that brought the hand-division of mathe matical instruments to any degree of perfection.1 The celebrated mural arc, erected by Flamsteed at Greenwich, owed its superiority over all other instruments of the kind which had yet been produced, chiefly to the accurate hand of Mr Sharp. His accuracy and application as a computer rendered him for many years the constant resource of Mr Flamsteed, Sir Jonas Moore, Dr Halley, and others, in all sorts of 1 Phil. Trans, for the year 1786. Period.] ABRAHAM SHARP. 457 troublesome and delicate calculations. He also numbered among his correspondents Sir Isaac Newton, Mr Wallis, Mr Hodgson, and Mr Sherwin. Mr Sharp, although he had come to the possession of a patrimonial estate which greatly removed him above want, led a very retired life at Horton. He was a bachelor himself, and the only com pany which he solicited was that of his pastor Oliver Heywood, and another pious friend who lived in the neighbourhood. He was re markably abstemious in his habits ; and would sometimes continue his calculations for whole days without tasting food. He was a man of sincere piety, and remarkable for his strict observance of religious duties. He died on the 18th of July, 1742. END 0(" VOL. IV. GLASGOW t FULLARTOt* AND CO., PR1NTERB, VILLAF1ELD. YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 04077 9978