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satisfied with the discourse of the man, and his wari- wife told him 'she was sure he was doing somewhat ness in foreseeing suspicions which would arise, it was that would undo him, and she was resolved he should resolved that on such a night, which upon considera- not go out of his house; and if he should persist in tion of the tides was agreed upon, the man should it, she would tell the neighbours, and carry him bedraw out his vessel from the pier, and, being at sea, fore the mayor to be examined, that the truth might should come to such a point about a mile from the be found out. The poor man, thus mastered by the town, where his ship should remain upon the beach passion and violence of his wife, was forced to yield when the water was gone, which would take it off to her, that there might be no farther noise, and so again about break of day the next morning. There went into his bed. was very near that point, even in the view of it, a And it was very happy that the king's jealousy small inn, kept by a man who was reputed honest, to hastened him from that inn. It was the solemn fastwhich the cavaliers of the country often resorted; and day, which was observed in those times principally to the London road passed that way, so that it was sel-inflame the people against the king, and all those who dom without company. Into that inn the two gentle were loyal to him; and there was a chapel in that men were to come in the beginning of the night, that village over against that inn, where a weaver, who had they might put themselves on board. All things being been a soldier, used to preach, and utter all the vilthus concerted, and good earnest given to the master, lany imaginable against the old order of government. the Lord Wilmot and the colonel returned to the and he was then in the chapel preaching to his concolonel's house, above a day's journey from the place, gregation when the king went from thence, and tellthe captain undertaking every day to look that the ing the people that Charles Stuart was lurking somemaster should provide, and, if anything fell out con where in that country, and that they would merit trary to expectation, to give the colonel notice at such from God Almighty if they could find him out.' The a place where they intended the king should be the passengers, who had lodged in the inn that night, day before he was to embark.

had, as soon as they were up, sent for a smith to visit The king being satisfied with these preparations, I their horses, it being a hard frost. The smith, when came at the time appointed to that house where he he had done what he was sent for, according to the was to hear that all went as it ought to do ; of which custom of that people, examined the feet of the other he received assurance from the captain, who found two horses, to find more work. When he had observed that the man had honestly put his provisions on them, he told the host of the house that one of those board, and had his company ready, which were but horses had travelled far, and that he was sure that four men, and that the vessel should be drawn out his four shoes had been made in four several counties; that night; so that it was fit for the two persons to which, whether his skill was able to discover or no, come to the aforesaid inn : and the captain conducted was very true. The smith going to the sermon, told them within sight of it, and then went to his own his story to some of his neighbours, and so it came house, not distant a mile from it; the colonel remain-to the ears of the preacher when his sermon was done. ing still at the house where they had lodged the night Immediately he sent for an officer, and searched the before, till he might hear the news of their being em- inn, and inquired for those horses; and being inbarked.

formed that they were gone, he caused horses to be They found many passengers in the inn, and so sent to follow them, and to make inquiry after the were to be contented with an ordinary chamber, which two men who rid those horses, and positively declared they did not intend to sleep long in. But as soon as that one of them was Charles Stuart.' there appeared any light, Wilmot went out to discover When they came again to the colonel, they presently the bark, of which there was no appearance. In a concluded that they were to make no longer stay in word, the sun arose, and nothing like a ship in view. those parts, nor any more to endeavour to find a ship They sent to the captain, who was as much amazed ; upon that coast; and without any farther delay, they and he sent to the town, and his servant could not rode back to the colonel's house, where they arrived find the master of the bark, which was still in the in the night. Then they resolved to make their next pier. They suspected the captain, and the captain attempt in Hampshire and Sussex, where Colonel suspected the master. However, it being past ten of Windham had no interest. They must pass through the clock, they concluded it was not fit for them to all Wiltshire before they came thither, which would stay longer there, and so they mounted their horses require many days' journey; and they were first to again to return to the house where they had left the consider what honest houses there were in or near the colonel, who, they knew, resolved to stay there till he way, where they might securely repose ; and it was were assured that they were gone.

thought very dangerous for the king to ride through The truth of the disappointment was this: the man any great town, as Salisbury or Winchester, which meant honestly, and made all things ready for his might probably lie in their way. departure; and the night he was to go out with his | There was, between that and Salisbury, a very vessel, he had stayed in his own house, and slept two honest gentleman, Colonel Robert Philips, a younger or three hours; and the time of the tide being come brother of a very good family, which had always been that it was necessary to be on board, he took out of a very loyal, and he had served the king during the war. cupboard some linen and other things, which he used the king was resolved to trust him, and so sent the to carry with him to sea. His wife had observed that Lord Wilmot to a place from whence he might send he had been for some days fuller of thoughts than he to Mr Philips to come to him; and when he had used to be, and that he had been speaking with sea-spoken with him, Mr Philips should come to the men who used to go with him, and that some of them king, and Wilmot was to stay in such a place as they had carried provisions on board the bark; of which two should agree. Mr Philips accordingly came she had asked her husband the reason, who had told to the colonel's house, which he could do without her that he was promised freight speedily, and there- suspicion, they being nearly allied. The ways were fore he would make all things ready.' She was sure very full of soldiers, which were sent now from the that there was yet no lading in the ship, and there army to their quarters, and many regiments of horse fore, when she saw her husband take all those mate- and foot were assigned for the west, of which division rials with him, which was a sure sign that he meant to Desborough was commander-in-chief. These marches go to sea, and it being late in the night, she shut the were like to last for many days, and it would not be door, and swore he should not go out of his house. fit for the king to stay so long in that place. There He told her he must go, and was engaged to go to upon he resorted to his old security of taking a woman sea that night, for which he should be well paid. His behind him, a kinswoman of Colonel Windham, whom

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he carried in that manner to a place not far from could never have accomplished those designs without
Salisbury, to which Colonel Philips conducted him. the assistance of a great spirit, an admirable circum-
In this journey he passed through the middle of a spection and sagacity, and a most magnanimous reso-
regiment of horse, and, presently after, niet Des- lution.
borough walking down a hill with three or four men When he appeared first in the parliament, he seemed
with him, who had lodgerl in Salisbury the night be to have a person in no degree gracious, no ornament
fore, all that road being full of soldiers.

of discourse, none of those talents which use to con-
The next day, upon the plains, Dr Hinchman, one ciliate the affections of the stander-by. Yet as he
of the prebends of Salisbury, met the king, the Lord grew into place and authority, his parts seemed to be
Wilmot and Philips then leaving lim to go to the raised, as if he had had concealed faculties, till he
sea-coast to find a vessel, the doctor conducting the had occasion to use them; and when he was to act
king to a place called Heale, three n iles from Salis- the part of a great man, he did it without any inde-
bury, belonging then to Serjeant Hyde, who was after-cency, notwithstanding the want of custom.
wards Chief Justice of the King's Ben :h, and then in After he was confirmed and invested Protector by
the possession of the widow of his elder brother-a the humble petition and advice, he consulted with
house that stood alone from neighbours, and from any very few upon any action of importance, nor commu-
highway--where coming in late in the evening, he nicated any enterprise he resolved upon with more
supped with some gentlemen who accidentally were than those who were to have principal parts in the
in the house, which could not well be avoided. But execution of it; nor with them sooner than was abso-
the next morning he went early from thence, as if he lutely necessary. What he once resolved, in which
had continued his journey; and the widow, being he was not rash, he would not be dissuaded from, nor
trusted with the knowledge of her guest, sent her ser endure any contradiction of his power and authority,
vants out of the way, and at an hour appointed re but extorted obedience from them who were not will-
ceived him again, and accommodated him in a little ing to yield it.
room, which had been made since the beginning of the Thus he subdued a spirit that had been often
troubles for the concealment of delinquents, the seat troublesome to the most sovereign power, and made
always belonging to a malignant family.

Westminster Hall as obedient and subservient to his
Here he lay concealed, without the knowledge of commands as any of the rest of his quarters. In all
some gentlemen who lived in the house, and of others other matters, which did not concern the life of his
who daily resortod thither, for many days; the widow jurisdiction, he seemed to have great reverence for
herself only attending him with such things as were the law, rarely interposing between party and party
necessary, and bringing him such letters as the doctor As he proceeded with this kind of indignation and
received the Lord Wilmot and Colonel Philips. haughtiness with those who were refractory, and durst
A vessel being at last provided upon the coast of Sussex, contend with his greatness, so towards all who com-
and notice thereof sent to Dr Hinchman, he sent to plied with his good pleasure, and courted his protec-
the king to meet him at Stonehenge, upon the plains, tion, he used great civility, generosity, and bounty:
three miles from Heale, whither the widow took care To reduce three nations, which perfectly hated him,
to direct him; and being there met, he attended him to an entire obedience to all his dictates; to awe and
to the place where Colonel Philips received him. He, govern those nations by an army that was indevoted
the next day, delivered him to the Lord Wilmot, who to him, and wished his ruin, was an instance of a very
went with him to a house in Sussex recommended by prodigious address. But his greatness at home was
Colonel Gunter, a gentleman of that country, who had but a shadow of the glory he had abroad.
jerved the king in the war, who met him there, and hard to discover which feared him most, France, Spain,
had provided a little bark at Brighthelmstone, a or the Low Countries, where his friendship was cuis
small fisher town, where he went early on board, and, rent at the value he put upon it. As they did all
by God's blessing, arrived safely in Normandy, sacrifice their honour and their interest to his plea-

sure, so there is nothing he could have demanded that
[Character of Oliver Cromwell.]

either of them would have denied him.

To conclude his character: Cromwell was not so
He was one of those men, quos vituperare ne inimici far a man of blood as to follow Machiavel's method ;
quidem possunt, nisi ut si mul laudent, whom his very which prescribes, upon a total alteration of govern.
enemies could not condemn without commending him ment, as a thing absolutely necessary, to cut off all
at the same time ; for he could never have done half the heads of those, and extirpate their families, who
that mischief without great parts of courage, industry, are friends to the old one. It was confidently re-
and judgment. He must have had a wonderful un- ported, that in the council of officers it was more than
derstanding in the natures and humours of men, and once proposed, “ that there might be a general mas-
as great a dexterity in applying them ; who, from a sacre of all the royal party, as the only expedient to
private and obscure birth (though of a good family), secure the government,' but that Cromwell would
without interest or estate, alliance or friendship, could never consent to it; it may be, out of too great a con-
raise himself to such a height, and compound and tempt of his enemies. In a word, as he was guilty of
knead such opposite and contradictory tempers, hu- many crimes against which damnation is denounced,
mours, and interests into a consistence, that contri- and for which hell-fire is prepared, so he had some
buted to his designs, and to their own destruction ; good qualities which have caused the memory of some
whilst himself grew insensibly powerful enough to cut men in all ages to bę celebrated ; and he will be
off those by whom he had climbed, in the instant that looked upon by posterity as a brave wicked man.
they projected to demolish their own building. What
was said of Cinna may very justly be said of him,

BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE.
aurum eum, que nemo auderet bonus ; perfecisse, quae a
nullo, nisi fortissimo, perfici possent-[ he attempted BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE (1605-1676), an eminent
those things which no good man durst have ventured lawyer, who wrote Memorials of English Affairs from
on, and achieved those in which none but a valiant the beginning of the reign of Charles I. to the
and great man could have succeeded.') Without doubt, Restoration, was of principles opposite to those of
no man with more wickedness ever attempted any- Lord Clarendon, though, like Selden and other modle.
thing, or brought to pass what he desired more rate anti-royalists, he was averse to a civil war.
wickedly, more in the face and contempt of religion Whitelveke was the legal adviser of Hampden during
and moral honesty. Yet wickedness as great as his the prosecution of that celebrated patriot for refusing

485

It was

19

to pay ship-money. As a member of parliament, and the continent, he became serviceable in Holland to one of the commissioners appointed to treat with the the Prince of Orange, accompanied the expedition king at Oxford, he advocated pacific measures; and, which brought about the Revolution, and was rebeing an enemy to arbitrary power both in church warded with the bishopric of Salisbury. Both as a and state. he refused, in the Westminster assembly prelate and a literary man, he spent the remainder for settling the form of church government, to ad- of his life with usefulness and activity, till its termit the assumed divine right of presbytery. Under mination in 1715. Burnet left in manuscript his Cromwell he held several high appointments; and celebrated History of My Own Times, giving an outduring the government of the Protector's son Richard, line of the events of the civil war and commonacted as one of the keepers of the great seal. At the wealth, and a full narration of what took place from Restoration, he retired to his estate in Wiltshire, the Restoration to the year 1713, during which which continued to be his principal residence till his period the author advanced from his seventeenth to death in 1676. Whitelocke's Memorials' not have his seventieth year. As he had, under various ciring been inter led for publication, are almost wholly | cumstances, personally known the conspicuous chawritten in the form of a diary, and are to be regarded racters of a whole century, and penetrated most of rather as a collection of historical materials than as the state secrets of a period nearly as long, he has history itself. In a posthumous volume of Essays, been able to exhibit all these in his work with a Ecclesiastical and Civil, he strongly advocates reli- felicity not inferior to Clarendon's, though allowance gious toleration.

is also required to be made in his case for political prejudices. Foreseeing that the freedom with which

he delivered his opinions concerning men of all ranks GILBERT BURNET.

and parties would give offence in many quarters, GILBERT BURNET was the son of a Scottish ad. Bishop Burnet ordered, in his will, that his history vocate of reputation, and nephew to Johnston of should not be published till six years after his death;

so that it did not make its appearance till 1723.* Its publication, as might have been expected, was a signal for the commencement of numerous attacks on the reputation of the author, whose veracity and fairness were loudly impeached. It fell under the lash of the Tory wits-Pope, Swift, and Arbuthnot; by the last of whom it was ridiculed in a humorous production, entitled Memoirs of P. P., Clerk of this Parish. In the opinion of a more impartial posterity, however, Bishop Burnet's honest freedom of speech, his intrepid exposure of injustice and corruption, in what rank soever he found it to exist, and the liveliness and general accuracy with which the events and characters of his age are described, are far more than sufficient to counterbalance his garrulous vanity and self-importance, and a singular tendency to view persons and occurrences with the spirit and credulity of a partisan. There is no good reason to suppose that he willingly distorts the truth ; though, in his preface, he makes the following admission that some things may have been over-coloured. I find that the long experience I have had of the baseness,

the malice, and the falsehood of mankind, has inGilbert Burnet.

clined me to be apt to think generally the worst

both of men and parties; and, indeed, the peevishWarriston, one of the principal popular leadersness, the ill-nature, and the ambition of many clergyof the civil war in Scotland. He was born at men, has sharpened my spirits too much against Edinburgh in 1643, and after entering life as a them: so I warn my reader to take all that I say on clergyman of his native church, and holding for these heads with some grains of allowance, though I some years the divinity professorship at Glasgow, have watched over myself and my pen so carefully, he removed to a benefice in London, where, partly that I hope there is no great occasion for this by his talents, and partly through forward and offi- apology. I have written,' says he, with a design to cious habits, he rendered himself the confidant of make both myself and my readers wiser and better, many high political persons. In 1679 he greatly and to lay open the good and bad of all sides and increased his reputation by publishing the first parties as clearly and impartially as I myself undervolume of a History of the Reformation in England. stood it; concealing nothing that I thought fit to be The appearance of this work at the time when the known, and representing things in their natural Popish Plot was engaging public attention, pro- colours, without art or disguise, without any regard cured to the author the thanks of both houses of to kindred or friends, to parties or interests: for I parliament, with a request that he would complete do solemnly say this to the world, and make my the history. This he did by publishing two addi-humble appeal upon it to the great God of truth, tional volumes in 1681 and 1714; and the work is that I tell the truth on all occasions, as fully and considered the best existing account of the important freely as upon my best inquiry I have been able to occurrences of which it treats. The conduct of find it out. Where things appear doubtful, I deliver Charles II. towards the conclusion of his reign was them with the same uncertainty to the world.' Dr highly offensive to Burnet, who formed an intimate King of Oxford says in his ‘Anecdotes of His Own connexion with the opposition party, and even wrote Times,' 'I knew Burnet, bishop of Salisbury; he was a letter to the king, freely censuring both his public acts and private vices. Both in this and the suc- * Burnet's sons, by whom it was published, took the lit ceeding reign, his opinions brought him into dis- of suppressing many passages, which were restored in the pleasure with the court. Having, therefore, retired to Oxford edition of 1823.

[graphic]

a furious party-man, and easily imposed on by any poor; such as were so by natural infirmity or folly, bing spirit of his own faction ; but he was a better as impotent persons, and madmen or idiots; such as pastor than any man who is now seated on the were so by accident, as sick or maimed persons; and bishops' bench. Although he left a large family such as, by their idleness, did cast themselves into when he died, three sons and two daughters (if I poverty. So the king ordered the Greyfriars' church, rightly remember), yet he left them nothing more near Newgate, with the revenues belonging to it, to than their mother's fortune. He always declared, be a house for orphans; St Bartholomew's, near Smiththat he should think himself guilty of the greatest field, to be an hospital; and gave his own house of crime if he were to raise fortunes for his children out Bridewell to be a place of correction and work for such of the revenue of his bishopric.'*

as were wilfully idle. He also confirmed and enlarged The principal works of Bishop Burnet, in addition the grant for the hospital of St Thomas in Southwark, to those already mentioned, are Memoirs of the Dukes which he had erected and endowed in August last. of Ilamilton (1676); An Account of the Life and Death And when he set his hand to these foundations, which of the Earl of Rochester (1680), whom he attended on was not done before the 5th of June this year, he his penitent death-bed; The Lives of Sir Matthew thanked God that had prolonged his life till he had Hale and Bishop Bedell (1682 and 1685); a transla-finished that design. So he was the first founder of tion of Sir Thomas More's Utopia;'ť and various those houses, which, by many great additions since theological treatises, among which is an Exposition that time, have risen to be amongst the noblest in of the Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England. | Europe. His style, though too unpolished to place him in the He expressed, in the whole course of his sickness, foremost rank of historical writers, is spirited and great submission to the will of God, and seemed glad vigorous; while his works afford sufficient evidence at the approaches of death; only, the consideration that to various and extensive knowledge he added of religion and the church touched him much ; and great acuteness in the discrimination of human cha- upon that account he said he was desirous of life. racter. As he composed with great ease and rapidity,

* * His distemper rather increased than abated ; and avoided long and intricate sentences, his pages

so that the physicians had no hope of his recovery. are much more readable than those of Clarendon.

Upon which a confident woman came, and undertook his cure, if he might be put into her hands. This was

done, and the physicians were put from him, upon [Death and Character of Edward VI.] this pretence, that, they having no hopes of his reco(From the · History of the Reformation.')

very, in a desperate case desperate remedies were to

be applied. This was said to be the Duke of NorIn the beginning of January this year [1553], he thumberland's advice in particular; and it increased was seized with a deep cough, and all medicines that the people's jealousy of him, when they saw the king were used did rather increase than lessen it. He was

grow sensibly worse every day after he came under so ill when the parliament met, that he was not able the woman's care; which becoming so plain, she was to go to Westminster, but ordered their first meeting put from him, and the physicians were again sent for, and the sermon to be at Whitehall. In the time of and took him into their charge. But if they had small his sickness, Bishop Ridley preached before him, and hopes before, they had done at all now. Death thus took occasion to run out much on works of charity, hastening on him, the Duke of Northumberland, who and the obligation that lay on men of high condition had done but half his work, except he had got the to be eminent in good works. This touched the king king's sisters in his hands, got the council to write to to the quick ; so that, presently after the sermon, he them in the king's name, inviting them to come and sent for the bishop. And, after he had commanded keep him company in his sickness. But as they were him to sit down by him, and be covered, he resumed on the way, on the 6th of July, his spirits and body most of the heads of the sermon, and said he looked were so sunk, that he found death approaching; and upon himself as chiefly touched by it. He desired so he composed himself to die in a most devout manhiin, as he had already given him the exhortation inner. His whole exercise was in short prayers and ejageneral, so to direct him to do his duty in that particulations. The last that he was heard to use was in cular. The bishop, astonished at this tenderness in these words : ‘Lord God, deliver me out of this miserable 50 young a prince, I burst forth in tears, expressing and wretched life, and take me among thy chosen ; howhow much he was overjoyed to see such inclinations beit, not my will, but thine be done; Lord, I commit in him ; but told him he must take time to think on my spirit to thee. Oh Lord, thou knowest how happy it it, and craved leave to consult with the lord-mayor were for me to be with thee; yet, for thy chosen's sake, and court of aldermen. So the king writ by him to send me life and health, that I may truly serve thee. them to consult speedily how the poor should be re-Oh my Lord God, bless my people, and save thine inlieved. They considered there were three sorts of heritance. Oh Lord God, save thy chosen people of

England; oh Lord God, defend this realm from pa* King's. Anecdotes,' p. 185. Sir James Mackintosh (Edin-pistry, and maintain thy true religion, that I and my burgh Review, vol. xxxvi. p. 15) characterises Burnet as a people may praise thy holy name, for Jesus Christ his zealous and avowed partisan, but an honest writer, whose sake.' Seeing some about him, he seemed troubled account of facts is seldom substantially erroneous, though it be that they were so near, and had heard him; but, with often inaccurate in points of form and detail.' Dr Johnson's a pleasant countenance, he said he had been praying opinion is thus recorded by Boswell:- Burnet's History of His

ory of His to God. And soon after the pangs of death coming Own Times is very entertaining: the style, indeed, is mere upon him, he said to Sir Henry Sidney, who was holdchit-chat. I do not believe that Burnet intentionally lied; buting him in his arms, I am faint: Lord have mercy he was so much prejudiced, that he took no pains to find out the

on ine, and receive my spirit;' and so he breathed out truth. Ho was like a man who resolves to regulate his time by

his innocent soul. a certain watch, but will not inquire whether the watch is

Thus died King Edward VI., that incomparable right or not.' Horace Walpole says-Burnet's style and manner

young prince. He was then in the sixteenth year of are very interesting; it seems as if he had just come from the

his age, and was counted the wonder of that time. king's closet, or from the apartments of the men whom he

He was not only learned in the tongues, and other describes, and was telling his reader, in plain honest terins, what he had seen and heard.'

liberal sciences, but knew well the state of his kingAn extract from this will be found at p. 60 of the present

dom. He kept a book, in which he writ the characvolume.

ters that were given him of all the chief men of the The king was sixteen years of age.

nation, all the judges, lord-licutenants, and justices

of the peace over England : in it he had marked down logical learning, chiefly in the study of the Scriptures. their way of living, and their zeal for religion. He But that which excelled all the rest was, he was poshad studied the matter of the mint, with the exchange sessed with the highest and noblest sense of divine and value of money; so that he understood it well, things that I ever saw in any man. He had no reas appears by his journal. He also understood forti- gard to his person, unless it was to mortify it by a fication, and designed well. He knew all the har constant low diet, that was like a perpetual fast. He bours and ports, both of his own dominions, and of had a contempt both of wealth and reputation. He France and Scotland ; and how much water they had, seemed to have the lowest thoughts of himself possible, and what was the way of coming into them. He had and to desire that all other persons should think as acquired great knowledge of foreign affairs; so that meanly of him as he did himself. He bore all sorts he talked with the ambassadors about them in such a of ill usage and reproach like a man that took pleamanner, that they filled all the world with the highest sure in it. He had so subdued the natural heat of opinion of him that was possible; which appears in his temper, that in a great variety of accidents, and most of the histories of that age. He had great quick- | in a course of twenty-two years' intimate conversation ness of apprehension ; and, being mistrustful of his with him, I never observed the least sign of passion memory, used to take notes of almost everything he but upon one single occasion. He brought himself heard ; he writ these first in Greek characters, that into so composed a gravity, that I never saw him those about him might not understand them; and laugh, and but seldom smile. And he kept himself afterwards writ them out in his journal. He had a in such a constant recollection, that I do not rememcopy brought him of everything that passed in coun ber that ever I heard him say one idle word. There cil, which he put in a chest, and kept the key of that was a visible tendency in all he said to raise his own always himself.

mind, and those he conversed with, to serious reflecIn a word, the natural and acquired perfections of tions. He seemed to be in a perpetual meditation. his mind were wonderful ; but his virtues and true | And though the whole course of his life was strict and piety were yet more extraordinary. * * (He) was ascetical, yet he had nothing of the sourness of temtender and compassionate in a high measure; so that per that generally possesses men of that sort. He was he was much against taking away the lives of here- the freest from superstition, of censuring others, or of tics; and therefore said to Cranmer, when he per- imposing his own methods on them, possible; so that suaded him to sign the warrant for the burning of he did not so much as recommend them to others. Joan of Kent, that he was not willing to do it, because He said there was a diversity of tempers, and every man he thought that was to send her quick to hell. He was to watch over his own, and to turn it in the best expressed great tenderness to the miseries of the poor manner he could. His thoughts were lively, oft out of in his sickness, as hath been already shown. He took the way, and surprising, yet just and genuine. And he particular care of the suits of all poor persons; and had laid together in his memory the greatest treasure gave Dr Cox special charge to see that their petitions of the best and wisest of all the ancient sayings of the were speedily answered, and used oft to consult with heathens as well as Christians, that I have ever known him how to get their matters set forward. He was an any man master of; and he used them in the aptest exact keeper of his word ; and therefore, as appears manner possible. He had been bred up with the by his journal, was most careful to pay his debts, and greatest aversion imaginable to the whole frame of the to keep his credit, knowing that to be the chief nerve church of England. From Scotland, his father sent of government; since a prince that breaks his faith, him to travel. He spent some years in France, and and loses his credit, has thrown up that which he can spoke that language like one born there. He came never recover, and made himself liable to perpetual afterwards and settled in Scotland, and bad Presbydistrusts and extreme contempt.

terian ordination ; but he quickly broke through the He had, above all things, a great regard to religion. prejudices of his education. His preaching had a He took notes of such things as he heard in sermons, sublimity both of thought and expression in it. The which more especially concerned himself; and made | grace and gravity of his pronunciation was such, that his measures of all men by their zeal in that matter. | few heard him without a very sensible emotion : I am

* All men who saw and observed these qualities sure I never did. His style was rather too fine; but in him, looked on him as one raised by God for most there was a majesty and beauty in it that left so deep extraordinary ends; and when he died, concluded an impression, that I cannot yet forget the sermons I that the sins of England had been great, that had heard him preach thirty years ago. And yet with provoked God to take from them a prince, under this he seemed to look on himself as so ordinary a whose government they were like to have seen such preacher, that while he had a cure, he was ready to blessed times. He was so affable and sweet-natured, employ all others. And when he was a bishop, he chose that all had free access to him at all times ; by which to preach to small auditories, and would never give he came to be most universally beloved ; and all the notice beforehand : he had, indeed, a very low voice, high things that could be devised were said by the and so could not be heard by a great crowd. * * people to express their esteem of him.

Upon his coming to me [in London), I was amazed

to see him, at above seventy, look still so fresh and [Character of Leighton, Bishop of Dumblane-His well, that age seemed as if it were to stand still with Death.]

him. His hair was still black, and all his motions [From the History of My Own Times.']

were lively. He had the same quickness of thought,

and strength of memory, but, above all, the same heat He was the son of Dr Leighton, who had in Arch- and life of devotion, that I had ever seen in him. bishop Laud's time writ Zion's plea against the When I took notice to him upon my first seeing him Prelates,' for which he was condemned in the Star- how well he looked, he told me he was very near his Chamber to have his ears cut and his nose slit. He end for all that, and his work and journey both were was a man of a violent and ungoverned heat. He now almost done. This at that time made no great sent his eldest son Robert to be bred in Scotland, who impression on me. He was the next day taken with was accounted a saint from his youth up. He had an oppression, and as it seemed with a cold and with great quickness of parts, a lively apprehension, with stitches, which was indeed a pleurisy. à charming vivacity of thought and expression. He The next day Leighton sunk so, that both speech had the greatest command of the purest Latin that and sense went away of a sudden. And he continued ever I knew in any man. He was a master both of panting about twelve hours, and then died without Greek and Hebrew, and of the whole compass of theo- pangs or convulsions. I was by him all the while.

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