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 BIOGRAPHY 
 
 PIOUS PERSONS.
 
 BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 PIOUS PERSONS; 
 
 ABRIDGED FOR YOUTH. 
 
 Wilt ihou not from this time cry unto me, My Father, thou art the 
 guide of my youth?" Jereniiafi. 
 
 MERRIAM, LITTLE AND CO. 
 
 1832.
 
 Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 
 1S32, by MERRIAM, LITTLE & Co. in the Clerk's Office 
 of the District Court of Massachusetts.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE individuals whose biographies are 
 here selected and condensed, resided in dif- 
 ferent parts of Europe and America, and 
 occupied a space of time nearly equal to three 
 centuries. They were of both sexes, and of 
 every date, from the bloom of childhood, to 
 the decrepitude of age. They exhibited va- 
 rieties of intellect, attainment, profession, and 
 doctrinal belief. Some were scarcely known 
 beyond the narrow sphere of domestic duty, 
 others became illustrious throughout distant 
 climes, as poets, philosophers, physicians, 
 civilians or divines. They were also diversi- 
 fied by every grade of rank and station, from 
 the obscurity of the humble householder, to 
 the pomp of nobility, and the splendor of a 
 throne. 
 
 Yet amidst all this contrast of structure and 
 circumstance, a pervading principle of unifor- 
 mity may be discovered. One possession 
 was common to all, .whether in poverty or 
 wealth. They were sustained under adver- 
 sity, and guarded in prosperity, by the same
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 invisible Hand. From one source, both the 
 favorite of genius, and the child of ignorance, 
 derived knowledge ; that knowledge of man's 
 infirmity, and of God's mercy, which "maketh 
 wise unto salvation." However differently 
 they might seem arrayed to the eye of the 
 world, it was the armor of true piety which 
 shielded them in misfortune, and gave them 
 victory over temptation. It was the steadfast 
 faith of the Christian, which took from the 
 ills of life their power to hurt the soul ; it 
 was the " hope full of glory," that gave a 
 smile to death, either amid the terrors of a 
 scaffold, or the protracted agonies of disease. 
 
 To those who may contemplate these ex- 
 amples, the question is submitted, whether 
 that religion is not worthy of persevering 
 search, of ardent prayer, which can render 
 the illusions of prosperity harmless, and the 
 pains of sorrow salutary, make life's pilgrim- 
 age a scene of virtue, and beautify death as 
 an angel of repose, exchange the coveted 
 and perishing goods of time for an eternal 
 heritage in the heavens 1 And to the young, 
 to whose perusal these pages are particu- 
 larly and affectionately dedicated, do they 
 not offer additional inducements to "remem- 
 ber their Creator," ere the period of that 
 promise shall expire, " those that seek me 
 early shall find me ?" 
 
 Hartford, Conn., January, 1832.
 
 INDEX, 
 
 Chronologically arranged. 
 
 Year of Birth. Page. 
 
 1. Catharine Parr, last Queen of Henry the 
 
 Eighth of England, ........ 1509. 9 
 
 2. Jane, Queen of Navarre, ...... 1528. 16 
 
 3. Lady Jane Grey, ......... 1536. 22 
 
 4. Philip de Mornay, Lord du Plessis, . . .1549. 32 
 
 5. Sir Francis Bacon, ........ 1561. 35 
 
 6. John Milton, .......... 1608. 41 
 
 7. Sir Matthew Hale, ...... - .1609. 52 
 
 8. Rev. Rowland Nevit, ....... 1609. 59 
 
 9. Rev. Francis Tallents, ....... 1609. 61 
 
 10. Rev. Samuel Stone, ....... 1610. 65 
 
 11. Blaise Pascal, .......... 1623. 70 
 
 12. Countess of Suffolk, . ....... 1627. 74 
 
 13. Countess of Warwick, ....... 1630. 81 
 
 14. Rev. Philip Henry, ........ 1631. 89 
 
 15. Susanna Kicks, ......... 1650. 117 
 
 16. Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, . . .1651. 130 
 
 17. Rev. Christopher Love, ...... 1651. 139 
 
 18. Jacob Bicks, .......... 1657. 142 
 
 19. Marquis of Argylc, ........ 1661. 145 
 
 20. Rev. Samuel Lawrence, ...... 1661. 147 
 
 21. Rev. Matthew Henry, ....... 1662. 109 
 
 22. Mary, duecn of Great Britain, Consort of 
 William Third, ......... 1662. 151
 
 VI INDEX. 
 
 nar of Birth. Page. 
 
 23. John Harvey, . 1664. 164 
 
 24. Dr. Herman Boerhaave, 1668. 168 
 
 25. Dr. Samuel Benion, 1673. 175 
 
 26. Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe, 1674. 187 
 
 27. Lady Mary Vere, 1680- 198 
 
 28. Col. James Gardiner, . ....... 1688. 202 
 
 29. Rev. Jonathan Edwards, 1703. 206 
 
 30. Dr. Samuel Johnson, 1709. 221 
 
 31. Rev. George Whiteficld, 1714. 230 
 
 32. Rev. Samuel Buell, 1716. 243 
 
 33. William Cowper, Esq . .1731. 248 
 
 34. Dr. James Beattic, 1735. 252 
 
 35. Rev. Samuel Stillman, 1737. 265 
 
 36. Rev. Jonathan Edwards, 2d, 1745. 268 
 
 37. Sir William Jones, ........ 1746. 276 
 
 38. Hon. Samuel Osgood, 1748. 282 
 
 39. Eliza Cunningham, 1771. 285 
 
 40. Joshua Rowley Gilpin, ....... 1788. 300
 
 BIOGRAPHY, & c . 
 
 CATHARINE PARR, 
 
 LAST QUEEN OF KING HENRY THE EIGHTH, OF 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 HER birth was in the year 1509, the 
 1509. beginning of the reign of the monarch 
 who was afterwards her husband. Her 
 father, Sir Thomas Parr, gave her a learned edu- 
 cation, and her progress was fully answerable to her 
 uncommon advantages. But with all her endow- 
 ments, she seemed less solicitous to shine than 
 to serve her fellow-creatures, and to please her 
 God ; and in every stage of life consecrated her 
 talents and accomplishments to the best and wisest 
 purposes. Very early in life she was married to 
 John Neville, Lord Latimer, and after his decease 
 the beauties of her person, and charms of her mind, 
 so captivated the changeable king Henry the 
 Eighth, that he induced her to become his wife, on 
 the 12th of July, 1543. 
 
 She was now in a situation to do extensive good, 
 and industriously availed herself of every opportu- 
 nity, either to relieve the distressed, espouse the 
 1
 
 10 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 cause of the injured, or soften the asperities of her 
 irritable consort. Piety preserved her pure from 
 the vanities of a court, and in prayer her affections 
 continually ascended upward. From infancy her 
 mind had received deep religious impressions, and 
 her matured reason rejected the errors of a Popish 
 education, and embraced the Protestant faith. 
 This creed exposed her to many persecutions from 
 her enemies, and more than once her life was en- 
 dangered by their influence over the mind of her 
 husband. 
 
 Bishop Gardiner, a fiery Popish zealot, with 
 much art persuaded the king to sign a warrant for 
 her commitment to the Tower, but this instru- 
 ment, being accidentally dropped, was conveyed to 
 Catharine, who was so deeply affected with such 
 base ingratitude, and the hard condition of female 
 royalty, that she was thrown into a severe fit of 
 sickness. Henry visited her in her sufferings, and 
 the wavering flame of his affection was rekindled. 
 Soon after he was himself ill, and during her care- 
 ful attendance upon him, he endeavored to draw 
 from her an avowal of what he suspected were her 
 articles of belief; but she knowing his bigoted 
 attachment to Popery, and that an acknowledgment 
 of her principles would inflame him to madness, 
 and perhaps overwhelm many with herself, express- 
 ed her opinions with such prudence, caution, and 
 delicacy, as soothed his temper, though without re- 
 moving his suspicions, and drew from him the stron- 
 gest assurances of reconciliation and love. 
 
 But the fury of the conspirators did not abate, and 
 when the time specified in the warrant for her im- 
 prisonment had arrived, (hey again renewed their
 
 CATHARINE PARR. 11 
 
 efforts, thirsting for innocent blood. She had gone 
 to walk in the garden with some ladies who shared 
 her intimacy, and who being suspected of agreeing 
 with her in the Protestant faith, were secretly ap- 
 pointed to share her imprisonment. The King 
 joined them in their walk : the conversation became 
 sprightly and interesting, and he began to realize 
 what his heart was always susceptible of the force 
 of female attraction. Suddenly forty of the guards 
 appeared, led on by the Lord High Chancellor, 
 when Henry, giving him a stern look, in the most 
 passionate and contemptuous expressions bade him 
 to depart instantly Trom his presence. 
 
 The Queen, observing him to be much embar- 
 rassed, said with great sweetness and in a supplicating 
 tone of voice, "I pray your Majesty, if the fault of the 
 Chancellor be not too heinous, that you would par- 
 don him for my sake." Henry, abashed at her 
 goodness, and the remembrance of his fault, stood 
 silent, while she repeatedly entreated, "for my sake 
 for my sake." At length he hinted to her that 
 his design was to have imprisoned, and perhaps 
 executed her ; but when he saw her still persist in 
 benevolent entreaties for his pardon, he was so pow- 
 erfully struck with her forgiving piety, that his mind, 
 usually wavering and inconstant, never forgot the 
 impression, or would admit any accusation against 
 the Queen. 
 
 Thus miraculously did divine Providence defeat 
 the malice and snares of her enemies ; and this 
 imminent danger was rendered salutary to her soul, 
 by exciting it to new fervency in prayer, and quick- 
 ening its preparation for eternity. Such was the 
 visible answer of God to her petitions, and to such
 
 1 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 a degree were the affections of the monarch rivetted 
 upon her, that after the failure of Gardiner's cruel 
 plan, her enemies, though they wished it, never dared 
 to make a similar attempt. She still continued to 
 search the Scriptures, and to converse with her chap- 
 lains on the doctrines of the Reformation, and had 
 a Sermon preached in her chamber every day. She 
 procured an able translation of Erasmus' Paraphrase 
 of the New Testament into English, for the instruc- 
 tion of the common people, and the cost of this 
 expensive work she defrayed entirely from her own 
 resources. During the time of her continuance as 
 queen, notwithstanding her many and peculiar avo- 
 cations, she wrote much on religious subjects. 
 Some of these papers were published during her 
 life, and others after her death. 
 
 Her first printed composition, was one in which 
 she acknowledged the religious errors of the early 
 part of her life, when she relied on external perfor- 
 mances, ignorant of that internal power of religion, 
 which had afterwards been granted to her humble 
 and persevering prayers. All her manuscripts ex- 
 hibit a true spirit of devotion, and a deep sense of 
 dependance upon God, and prove how much of her 
 time and thoughts, amid the pomps and ceremonies 
 of her station, were devoted to the concerns of her 
 soul, and the dissemination of piety and virtue among 
 her people. 
 
 She considered useful learning, as favorable to 
 the interests of religion, and used constant endeav- 
 ors to extend and promote it. So much was she 
 considered the patroness of literature, and such was 
 her supposed influence over the king, that when the
 
 CATHARINE PARR. 13 
 
 University of Cambridge was alarmed at the pas- 
 sing of an act which declared all the Colleges at his 
 Majesty's disposal, the principal heads and dignita- 
 ries addressed a letter to her, entreating her to inter- 
 cede that their privileges might not be abridged. 
 
 In her reply, after signifying that his Majesty had 
 granted her intercessions in their behalf she adds 
 "I doubt not, your daily invocations will be offered 
 up to Him who alone disposeth of every creature, 
 for the preservation and prosperity of your royal 
 benefactor." After commending the flourishing state 
 of literature at Cambridge, she exhorts them "not 
 so to hunger for the exquisite knowledge of profane 
 learning," as to neglect the simplicity of the doctrines 
 of Christ. She concludes this excellent letter "I 
 am taught to say by St. Paul 'I am not ashamed 
 of the gospel of Christ ;' to the sincere setting forth 
 of which, I trust you will conform your various gifts 
 and studies, that Cambridge may be accounted an 
 University, not only of moral and natural, but of 
 divine Philosophy." 
 
 Next to the duties of devotion, and the study of 
 the scriptures, it was the care of this excellent woman 
 to perform her duty to the king. Perhaps no one 
 but herself could so well have executed that ardu- 
 ous task. The ill health that was his constant por- 
 tionduring her continuance with him, added fierceness 
 to his harsh and intractable disposition, and though 
 his principal favorites suffered severely from his 
 caprice and passion, the amiable qualities of his con- 
 sort, her gentleness, tenderness, and charms of 
 conversation, alleviated his pains, and fixed his 
 mutable affections. His death took place, three 
 years and a half after she became his wife, and she 
 1*
 
 14 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 was again married to Sir Thomas Seymour, Lord 
 High Admiral of England. The harshness and 
 ambition of her second husband, and the unexam- 
 pled pride of some of his family, embittered her 
 days, and hastened their decline. In the month of 
 September, 1548, she passsed where "the wicked 
 cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 
 
 To this little sketch of her character I add part 
 of one of her prayers, which these narrow limits 
 compel me reluctantly to abridge ; 
 
 "Most benign Lord Jesus ! Grant me thy grace 
 always to work in me, and persevere with me unto 
 the end. Let me have no desire to will, or not to 
 will, but as thou wilt : for thou Lord knowest what 
 is most profitable and expedient for me. Give me 
 therefore ivhnl thou wilt : as much as thou wilt ; 
 and luhen thou wilt. I pray thee, grant me thy 
 grace, that I may never set my heart on the things 
 of this world, but that all carnal and worldly affec- 
 tions may utterly die, and be mortified in me. For 
 thou, Lord, art the very true peace of my heart, 
 and perfect rest of my soul, and without thee all 
 things are grievous and unquiet. 
 
 I beseech thee, be with me in every place, and at 
 all times ; yet if thou withdraw thy comfort from 
 me at any time, keep me, Lord, from desperation, 
 and make me patiently to bear thy will. If thou 
 wilt that I be in light, be thou blessed : if thou wilt 
 that I lie in trouble, and without comfort, be thou 
 likewise blessed. Keep me, Lord, from sin, and 
 then I shall dread neither death or hell. Oh ! what 
 thanks shall I give unto thee, who hast suffered the 
 grievous death of the cross, to deliver me from my 
 sins, and to obtain everlasting life for me ? Thou
 
 CATHARINE PARR. 15 
 
 gavest us the most perfect example of patience, 
 fulfilling and obeying the will of thy Father even 
 unto death. Make me, wretched sinner, obediently 
 to order myself after thy will in all things, and 
 patiently to bear the burden of this corrupt life. 
 For though it be tedious, and as an heavy burden 
 to my soul, yet nevertheless through thy grace and 
 example, it is made much more easy and comforta- 
 ble. Thy holy life is our way to thee, and by follow- 
 ing that, we walk to Thee our head and Saviour. 
 
 Except thou hadst gone before, and showed us 
 the way to everlasting life, who would endeavor of 
 himself to follow thee, seeing we are yet so slow 
 and dull, having the light of thy blessed example and 
 holy doctrine to lead and direct us ? Lord Jesus, 
 make.that possible by grace, which is to me impos- 
 sible by nature. Thou knowest well that I can 
 suffer little, that I am soon cast down and over- 
 thrown with a little adversity : wherefore I beseech 
 thee, O Lord, to strengthen me with thy Spirit, that 
 I may willingly suffer for thy sake all manner of 
 troubles and afflictions." .
 
 JANE, Q,UEEIV OF JYAVARRE. 
 
 SHE was the daughter of Henry Second, King 
 of Navarre, and Margaret of Orleans, 
 
 1528. sister of the celebrated Francis First, 
 of France. She was married to Antho- 
 ny, of Bourbon, son of the Duke of Vendome, 
 and the mother of Henry the Great, fourth king 
 of France and Navarre. Early initiated by her 
 parents in the truths of the Protestant religion, 
 she became a firm adherent to them, in times 
 of distressing bigotry and persecution. The 
 leading French papists, finding her firm against 
 their insinuations, endeavored to detach her hus- 
 band from the Protestant interest, and so far was 
 he duped by their artifices, as to solicit his queen to 
 return with him to the bosom of the Romish Church, 
 and on her refusal, withdrew from her his affections 
 and his confidence. She therefore retired to Po- 
 diani, in the country of Berne, where she kept her 
 diminished court, and enjoyed the consolations of 
 her religion. 
 
 Soon after, she became a widow, for the King 
 of Navarre was mortally wounded in the shoulder, at 
 the siege of Orleans. The Catholic faction imme- 
 diately attempted to seize the queen with her son 
 and daughter, and bring them before the Spanish
 
 JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 17 
 
 Inquisition. But this cruel design was frustrated 
 by a signal interposition of that Almighty Being, 
 who preserves those whose trust is in his mercy, and 
 whose prayers continually ascend before his throne. 
 Persecutions of the Protestants now commenced 
 with the greatest fury, and fountains of innocent 
 blood were seen to flow. 
 
 In the third civil war, the queen of Navarre find- 
 ing every pacific proposal rejected, advanced with 
 considerable force to Rochelle. After the first 
 unfortunate battle, where the prince of Conde" was 
 slain, she gathered the scattered remains of the 
 Protestant army, and animated a great assembly 
 of nobles and soldiers, by the spirit of her eloquence. 
 She applauded the piety and constancy of the fallen 
 hero, and called upon all who heard her to imitate 
 his example, and to persevere in supporting the 
 cause of Christ, and the liberties *of their country. 
 " For the good cause, said she, is not dead with 
 the Prince of Conde, neither ought worthy men in 
 such losses to yield to despondency. God having 
 so provided for his cause, that he gave Conde a com- 
 panion while he lived, who may succeed him now 
 he is no more. I have brought with me, my only 
 son Hemy, who being the heir of Condi's name 
 is heir also of his virtues." 
 
 After striving to inspirit her nobles, and giving 
 the young prince much private counsel and admo- 
 nition, she returned to Rochelle to raise new rein- 
 forcements. But misfortune still attended her arms ; 
 the countries of Berne and Foox were reduced, 
 and the Papists laid furious siege to Navarre, the 
 only place of strength that remained. It was then 
 found that the humble prayers of the saints, " were
 
 18 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 mighty through God to the pulling down of strong 
 holds, and to the casting down of every high thing 
 that exalteth itself." A victory, unexpected, and 
 almost miraculous, was given to the persecuted 
 saints, and the enemy retreated with disgrace, re- 
 signing the conquered territory, and offering condi- 
 tions of peace. To confirm the treaty still more 
 effectually, they proposed a marriage between the 
 young Prince Henry, and the sister of the king 
 of France. The Queen of Navarre objected, on 
 account of their different religious belief, but her 
 remonstrances were overruled by the argument, 
 that it would establish peace on a more permanent 
 basis, and stop the effusion of blood. 
 
 She improved the little interval of quiet which 
 attended this negotiation, in disseminating the 
 principles of the reformed religion among her 
 subjects. She sent a number of pastors into the 
 neglected province of Cantabria, and translated 
 into their dialect, the New Testament, Catechism, 
 and prayers used in the church at Geneva. While 
 she was employing herself in these pious designs, 
 the French King sent dispatches to her, insisting 
 that the proposed nuptials should be celebrated at 
 Paris. To this she assented reluctantly, and in 
 the spring of 1572, left her hereditary dominions 
 with her children and retinue. She was observed 
 to depart with regret ; but she went " as a bird to 
 the snare of the fowler, not knowing that it was 
 for her life." 
 
 The festivity attending the marriage of her son, 
 was chosen by the inhuman Papists, as the signal 
 of the massacre of the unsuspecting Protestants, 
 and so secretly was this abominable plot laid, and so
 
 JANE, ftUEEN OF NAVARRE. 19 
 
 unprovided were they for defence, that on the 24th 
 of August, 30,000 of them were butchered without 
 regard to age or sex. The French queen dowager, 
 one of the principal instigators, fearing that Jane 
 might escape the massacre, and dreading the effects 
 of the greatness of her spirit should she survive, 
 resolved to make sure this victim. Two months 
 previous to the intended massacre, while all wore 
 the appearance of satisfaction and joy, she engaged 
 an Italian wretch, of the name of Rene, to sell to 
 the innocent Queen of Navarre, some perfume, 
 mingled with the most subtile, and powerful poison. 
 She was immediately thrown into a lingering and 
 excruciating fever, which she perceived must termi- 
 nate in death. With dignified composure, with 
 profound solemnity, she prepared her soul for the 
 approaching event. Calling her son Henry to her 
 couch, she gave him much excellent advice, and 
 among other things said, " I enjoin you above all, 
 carefully to serve God in the religion in which you 
 have been educated, and not to suffer your soul to 
 be diverted by the empty pleasures and delights 
 of this world. Inviolably preserve the constitutions 
 which have been given respecting it, in the princi- 
 palities of Berne, and the lower Navarre. Purge 
 your family of all irreligious counsellors, vicious 
 persons, and flatterers, the abusers of princes. 
 Take a tender care of your sister Catharine, and 
 give her an education in the same school of piety 
 where you have received your own." 
 
 After appointing him her heir, and entreating 
 the King of France to be the protectpr of her 
 orphan children, and allow them the free exercise 
 of their religion, she requested that she might have
 
 20 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 suitable persons around her, to pray with her, 
 and administer consolation to her departing soul. 
 " I take all this," said she, " as sent from the hands 
 of my most merciful Father. Nor have I during this 
 extremity been afraid to die ; much less have I 
 murmured against this chastisement, knowing that 
 whatsoever God does shall in the end turn to my 
 everlasting good. As for this life, I am in a good 
 measure weaned from it, by the afflictions which 
 have followed me from my youth to the present 
 hour ; but especially because I cannot live without 
 offending my God, with whom I desire to be with 
 all my heart." 
 
 Her minister requested her to pray, that if it were 
 the will of God she might be longer employed in 
 his service upon earth. She replied, " For myself 
 this sinful life is not dear, but I have a concern for 
 the children whom God has given me, and if I were 
 now to die they would be left alone in their early 
 years. Yet, I doubt not, if he were to see fit to 
 take me from them, he himself will be a Father and 
 Protector for them, as he has ever been to me in 
 my greatest afflictions : and therefore I commit 
 them wholly to his government, and fatherly care. 
 Death is not terrible to me, because it is the way 
 to pass to eternal rest." Then with her hands and 
 eyes lifted up to hea.ven, she said in the voice of 
 prayer, " my sins which I have committed against 
 the Lord are innumerable, and more than I can 
 recount ; yet I hope that God, for Christ's sake, 
 in whom I put my whole trust, will be merciful to 
 me." 
 
 The steadiness of her faith imparted a cheerful 
 serenity to her countenance ; and her pains, though
 
 JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 21 
 
 very severe, never extorted from her an impatient 
 word, or scarcely a groan. Often amidst edifying 
 discourse, she was heard to utter in prayer, " O my 
 God, in thy due time deliver me from the body of 
 this death, and from the miseries of this present 
 life, that I may no more offend thee, and that I may 
 attain to that felicity which thou in thy word hast 
 promised to bestow upon Ine." Seeing her ladies 
 weeping round her bed, ^he said, " I pray you do 
 not weep for me, since God by this sickness calls 
 me to the enjoyment of a better life ; and now I 
 am about to enter the desired haven towards which 
 my frail vessel has been so long steering." Just as 
 she was expiring, one of her ministers said, " Are you 
 now willing to go ?" " Yes, I assure you," she an 
 .swered, "much more willing than to linger here below 
 in this world where I see nothing but vanity," and 
 thus sweetly yielded up her breath, June 9th, 1572, 
 in the 44th year of her age. " Queen Jane of 
 Navarre, says Bishop Burnet, reformed not only 
 her court, but her whole principality ; and to such 
 a degree that the golden age seemed to have return- 
 ed under her, or rather Christianity appeared again 
 in its primitive purity and lustre. Her dominions 
 were so narrow, that though she had the rank, and 
 dominion of queen, it was like sovereignty in min- 
 iature ; though the colors were light, it was of the 
 .smallest form."
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 LADY JANE GREY, the daughter of Henry, Mar- 
 quis of Dorset, and Lady Frances Brandon, grand 
 daughter of -Henry Seventh, was born 
 1536. in the year 1536. Her attractions began 
 early to display themselves ; for to beau- 
 ty of person she united many accomplishments el- 
 egance in the performances of the needle and pen, 
 skill in vocal and instrumental music, gracefulness 
 of deportment, and an inexpressible charm of con- 
 versation. Still she aspired to acquisitions of great- 
 er solidity, and having obtained such a knowledge 
 of her own language as to speak and write with pe- 
 culiar accuracy, she acquired the French, Italian, 
 Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee and Arabic. These 
 she studied so thoroughly as to render them perfect- 
 ly familiar, and it is asserted on the authority of the 
 most learned men of that period, that she wrote in 
 each with facility. This great mass of knowledge 
 was secured in childhood and early youth ; and so 
 far was she from vanity or self conceit, that she 
 mingled all her attainments with modesty, humility, 
 and piety. 
 
 Yet though the sweetness and gentleness of her 
 demeanour attracted universal admiration, it is an 
 unaccountable fact, that she was treated by her pa-
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 23 
 
 rents with cold and stern severity. This led her to 
 seek Cor happiness in the retirement of intellectual 
 pursuits ; and depressed by the unmerited chidings 
 of her parents, she returned with double pleasure to 
 the lessons of her beloved tutor, Aylmere, whose 
 gentleness was as a cordial to her spirit, crushed by 
 unnatural austerity. Yet her own reflecting mind 
 perceived that this trial had been sanctified to her 
 improvement, and she said cheerfully to a friend, 
 " One of the greatest benefits that God ever gave 
 me, was to send me such sharp and severe parents, 
 and so gentle a schoolmaster." This was also one 
 of the first incentives to that fervent and uniform pi- 
 ety, which was so early observable in her ; for check- 
 ed in the natural effusions of a susceptible heart, 
 and chilled with rigors, where her first confidence 
 sought to repose itself, she found Him who comfort- 
 eth the mourner, and raiseth up the spirits that are 
 cast down. 
 
 Childhood, which is so often devoted to vanity, 
 was in her case marked with piety, and while her 
 daily devotions comforted and strengthened her, 
 they gained a visible blessing upon her pursuits, 
 studies and attainments. Her parentage, and situ- 
 ation in life, sometimes required her attendance at 
 court, where her conversation, accomplishments 
 and humility, strongly awakened the admiration and 
 esteem of the young King Edward, who was him- 
 self a conspicuous example of virtue, learning and 
 piety. Soon after, her father was created Duke of 
 Suffolk, and the father of her future husband was 
 made Duke of Northumberland. She was married 
 to the young Lord Guilford Dudley, May, 1553, at 
 the ago of 16, and the King, who requested that the
 
 24 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 nuptials might be celebrated with great pomp, con- 
 tributed liberally to their expenses from the royal 
 treasury. But the magnificence and splendor of 
 this scene was the last gleam of joy that shone in 
 the palace of King Edward. His decline increas- 
 ed he withered and decayed like some feeble 
 and beautiful plant? until the 6th of July, 1553, 
 when he expired, beloved and lamented. Keligion 
 had long been his guide and his consolation, and in 
 the hours of his last suffering, its interests were pe- 
 culiarly dear. He knew his sister Mary to be a 
 bigoted Roman Catholic, he feared that the Protest- 
 ant religion which he had fostered she would crush 
 in its infancy, and trembled with a prophetic spirit, 
 at the persecutions that would rage, and the blood 
 that must flow if she should be seated on his throne. 
 He was led to meditate on Lady Jane, as his suc- 
 cessor, and the strong solicitations of the Duke of 
 Northumberland, so seconded his own choice, that 
 one of the last acts of his life was to authorize a 
 deed of settlement, signed by himself and all the 
 Lords of the Council, in which Lady Jane Grey 
 was declared the rightful heir to the crown and scep- 
 tre of England. Of this she knew nothing, until 
 her father, and father-in-law entered Durham Cas- 
 tle, and informed her of her exaltation, and while 
 she struggled with astonishment and terror, they, fal- 
 ling on their knees, paid her homage as queen. As 
 soon as she could express herself audibly she en- 
 treated them not to persist in their design, or for a 
 moment indulge a thought of trespassing on the 
 rights of Mary and Elizabeth. " Shall I scruple, 
 said she, at the stealing of a shilling, and not at the 
 usurpation of the crown ? Or shall I accept a crown
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 25 
 
 violently wrested from Catharine of Arragon, and 
 made more unfortunate by the punishment of Ann 
 Boleyn and others that wore it after her 1 Why 
 will you have me add rny blood to theirs, and be the 
 third victim from whom that fatal thing has been 
 wfested, with the head that wore it 1 Rather if you 
 love me sincerely, and so earnestly as you say, let 
 me remain in a secure and quiet condition, and not 
 force me into such an exalted situation, so exposed 
 to the wind, and so likely to be followed by some 
 dismal fall." 
 
 But her arguments were disregarded, and her en- 
 treaties silenced by the Duke of Northumberland, 
 who assured her that all was done according to law, 
 and the wishes of the people ; by the commands of 
 her father, to which she had ever been accustomed 
 to submit ; by the tears and intercessions of her 
 mother, and the ardent entreaties of her husband, 
 whom she loved tenderly, and by whom she was 
 equally beloved. Finding herself unable to resist, 
 with a reluctant and heavy heart she suffered her- 
 self to be conveyed to the Tower, where she was 
 immediately proclaimed, and arrayed with the in- 
 signia of royalty. But short indeed, was the date 
 of her sovereignty ; on the morning of the tenth 
 day commenced the reign of Queen Mary, announ- 
 ced by a proclamation in London. The Duke of 
 Suffolk, entering her apartment with a disturbed air, 
 and a faultering tone, imparted the intelligence, but 
 she received it with a serene and composed counte- 
 nance, and answered that the message was far less 
 painful than her advancement to royalty ; that from 
 obedience to him she had done violence to herself 
 and deeply sinned, and would now gladly make all 
 2*
 
 26 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 possible reparation for the error she had committed. 
 
 But immediately after her relinquishment of roy- 
 alty, her gentle heart was doomed to bleed at the 
 sight of Bufferings which she had innocently caus- 
 ed. Mary, incensed and vindictive, threw into close 
 confinement the Dukes of Suffolk, and oNorthum- 
 berland, and brought the latter to the block. The 
 whole family of Northumberland suffered the pains 
 of imprisonment, and thither Lady Jane and Jier 
 husband after their trial were brought, under sen- 
 tence of death. This amiable lady has hitherto fur- 
 nished us with proof of uncommon intellectual ex- 
 cellence and exhibited a sensibility and gentleness, 
 which it is impossible- not to admire. She will now 
 display to us her fortitude greatness of soul con- 
 scious rectitude and inspiring piety, which, break- 
 ing forth with brighter lustre, shed unfading radiance 
 upon her closing days. Neither repining, grief or 
 dejection, sat upon her countenance ; no murmur 
 escaped her lips that she must thus be torn from 
 life and all its enjoyments. 
 
 She wrote to her father during her imprisonment, 
 that she was not only reconciled to the approaching 
 event, but thankful for it ; that however painful it 
 might appear to him, nothing to her could be more 
 welcome, than from this vale of misery to aspire to 
 a seat with her Saviour, and she prayed that he 
 might be so divinely preserved in tke faith of Jesus, 
 that theymight meet in heaven at last. She spent her 
 imprisonment in acts of piety and devotion, though 
 much interrupted by the officiousness of the Popish 
 priests, who were continually sent by Queen Mary, 
 to endeavor to convert her to their faith. These 
 found her belief steadfast, and her arguments unan-
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 27 
 
 swerahlc, and having heard that one of her former 
 preceptors had changed his faith, through fear of 
 persecution, she addressed to him a most excellent 
 and convincing letter. Towards the conclusion she 
 says " Come home again like Mary ; and with Pe- 
 ter bitterly weep. As, with the lost son you have 
 wandered, be not ashamed with him to return from 
 the riot of strangers, acknowledging that you have 
 sinned against Heaven and Earth : against one by 
 staining the glorious name of God ; against the 
 other by becoming a stumbling block to your weak 
 brethren." 
 
 To her sister, the night before her death, she 
 wrote a long and valuable letter at the end of a 
 Greek Testament, which she sent her as the last me- 
 morial of her friendship and affection. " As to my 
 death, good sister, rejoice as I do, that I shall be 
 delivered from this corruption, and put on incorrup- 
 tion ; for I am assured that by losing a mortal I 
 shall gain immortal life, which I pray God to grant 
 you, and send you grace to live in his fear, and to 
 die in the true Christian faith, from which in God's 
 name, I exhort you never to swerve, either for hope 
 of life, or fear of death." 
 
 The day appointed for the execution of the two 
 innocent victims was February 12th, 1554. When 
 the fatal morning arrived, Lord Guilford Dudley 
 earnestly besought the officers for liberty to take a 
 last farewell of his beautiful and beloved consort. 
 This was readily granted, but on being notified to 
 her, she thought it inexpedient, and collecting the 
 whole force of her mind endeavored to dissuade 
 him from his purpose. " Such a meeting," she sent 
 him an answer," would only add to your afflictions,
 
 28 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 and disturb the quiet with which we ought to arm 
 our souls for the stroke of death. You demand a 
 lenitive which will inflame the wound ; for I fear my 
 presence will rather weaken than strengthen you. 
 If your soul is not now firm and composed, I can 
 neither settle it with my eyes, or confirm it with my 
 words. Defer then this interview, until a few mo- 
 ments are past, and then we meet in another world. 
 There indeed, friendships will be happy, and unions 
 indissoluble, and ours doubtless will be eternal, if 
 we carry nothing terrestrial with us to hinder our re- 
 joicing." 
 
 When she saw her husband led out to execution, 
 she involuntarily testified great emotion, but soon 
 overcame it by reflecting how soon she should fol- 
 low him, and giving him her farewell from the win- 
 dow, composed herself for the approaching solem- 
 nity. He suffered on the scaffold with much Chris- 
 tian meekness ; and his streaming body laid upon a 
 car, and his severed head wrapt in a linen cloth, in 
 a few minutes after, passed under her window. She 
 beheld this shocking spectacle with a composed 
 countenance, and immediately wrote in her table 
 book three sentences in Latin, Greek and English. 
 This book she presented to Sir John Bridges, Lieu- 
 tenant of the Tower, as a grateful acknowledgment 
 of his kindness during her imprisonment. The 
 Greek sentence was, *' If this slain body shall give 
 sentence against me before men, his most blessed 
 soul shall render eternal proof of my innocence in 
 the presence of God." The Latin, " The justice 
 of man destroyed his body ; but the mercy of God 
 has preserved his soul." The English, " If my 
 fault deserved this punishment, my youth and my
 
 LADY JANE GREV. 29 
 
 imprudence admit at least of excuse. God and pos- 
 terity will show me favor." 
 
 She proceeded to the scaffold with a serene and 
 sweet countenance, fixing her eyes upon a book of 
 prayers, and paying little atttention to the discourses 
 of the Popist priest who followed her. She addres- 
 sed a short speech to the people who surrounded 
 her, kneeled down and repeated the 51st Psalm in a 
 most devout manner, mildly gave her forgiveness to 
 the executioner, who kneeling entreated it, suffered 
 herself to be disrobed by her women, and laying 
 her head upon the block said, " Lord, into thine 
 hands I commend my spirit." Thus perished this 
 amiable being at the age of seventeen. Among 
 her devotional papers Ls found a prayer, written in 
 the time of her adversity, with some extracts of 
 which I close, this imperfect account of a most in- 
 teresting and admirable character. 
 
 " O Lord, thou God and Father of my life ! hear 
 me, a poor and desolate woman, who fly to thee 
 alone in all troubles and miseries. Thou, Lord, 
 art the only defender and deliverer of those who put 
 their trust in thee : and therefore I, being defiled 
 w r ith sin, encumbered with afflictions, disquieted 
 with troubles, wrapped in cares, overwhelmed with 
 miseries, and grievously tormented with long im- 
 prisonment in this vile body of clay, do come unto 
 thee, merciful Saviour, craving thy mercy and help, 
 without which so little hope of deliverance is left, 
 that I may utterly despair. Although it is expedi- 
 ent that we should be visited with adversity, where- 
 by we may both be tried whether we be of thy flock 
 or not, and also know thee and ourselves better, yet 
 thou who saidst thou wouldst not suffer us to be
 
 30 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 tempted above our power, be merciful unto me, a 
 miserable creature. 
 
 I beseech thee, that I may neither be too much 
 lifted up with prosperity, or too much pressed down 
 with adversity. O merciful God, consider my mis- 
 ery, best known to thee, and be thou now to me a 
 strong tower of defence, 1 humbly entreat thee. Suf- 
 fer me not to be tempted above my power ; but ei- 
 ther deliver me from this great misery, or give me 
 grace to bear patiently thy sharp correction. It was 
 thine hand that delivered the people of Israel from 
 Pharoah, who for 400 years did oppress, and keep 
 them in bondage. Give me grace to tarry until thy 
 pleasure, patiently bearing thy work, and assuredly 
 knowing that as thou canst, so thou wilt deliver me, 
 when it shall please thee ; nothing doubting or mis- 
 trusting thy goodness unto me ; for thou knowest 
 better what is good for me than I do ; therefore do 
 with me in all things as thou wilt. Only arm me, I 
 beseech thee, with thine armor, that I may stand 
 fast ; my loins being girt about with verity, having 
 on the breast plate of righteousness, and the shoes 
 of the gospel of peace ; above all things taking the 
 shield of faith, and the helmet of salvation, and the 
 sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God ; pray- 
 ing always, with all manner of prayer and supplica- 
 tion, that I may refer myself wholly to thy will, a- 
 bide in thy pleasure, and comfort myself in those 
 troubles which it shall please thee to send me, see- 
 ing such troubles are profitable for me, and seeing I 
 am assuredly persuaded, that it cannot but be well 
 all that thou dost. Hear me, merciful Father, 
 for his sake whom thou wouldst to be a sacrifice for
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 31 
 
 my sins ; to whom, with thee, and the Holy Ghost, 
 be all honor and glory. Amen." 
 
 In the place of her gloomy confinement she en- 
 graved with a pin, the following lines. 
 
 " Think not, O mortal, vainly gay, 
 That thou from human woes art free ; 
 
 The bitter cup I drink to-day 
 
 To-morrow may be drank by thee. 
 
 Harmless is malice if our God be nigh; 
 
 Fruitless all pains if he his help deny. 
 
 Patient I pass these gloomy hours away, 
 
 And wait the morning of Eternal Day." 
 
 I cannot forbear transcribing the concise and ele- 
 gant character given of her by Mr. Fuller. " She 
 had the innocence of childhood, the beauty of youth, 
 the solidity of middle life and all at 17. She had 
 the birth of a princess, the learning of a divine, and 
 the life of a saint ; and yet suffered the death of a 
 malefactor, for the offences of her parents."
 
 PHILIP DE MORITAY, 
 
 LORD DU PLESSIS. 
 
 PHILIP DE MORNAY, an illustrious French no- 
 bleman, was descended from an ancient family, 
 which had produced many eminent men, 
 
 1549. and born Nov. 5, 1549. His education 
 was conducted with the utmost care ; 
 tutors were provided for him in all languages and 
 sciences, and his progress was such as might be 
 expected from a superior genius, with close appli- 
 cation. While his young mind was forming, his 
 mother, who was a Protestant, insensibly inspired it 
 with her own principles, and laid true religion as 
 the foundation of his future fame. His zeal 
 against popery exposed him partially to the perse- 
 cutions which the Huguenots experienced, and he 
 and his mother very narrowly escaped the diaboli- 
 cal massacre at Paris. 
 
 His youth was divided between a military life, 
 which the state of his country seemed to require, 
 and travels into foreign parts, where his stock of 
 knowledge gained an immense increase. In his 
 maturity, he was called to the perplexing cares of a 
 statesman, and found himself high in office and in 
 honor, at the court of Henry the Fourth of France. 
 
 Amidst the whelming vortex of public life, he 
 found time and attention for study and literary pur-
 
 PHILIP DE MORNAY. 33 
 
 suits. In his 26th year he married, and published 
 the same year a moral treatise on " Life and Death," 
 and at different periods completed, a number of 
 valuable literary works. His treatise " concerning 
 the church," was an explanation of the motives that 
 induced him to renounce the Romish for the Pro- 
 testant faith. Then followed his " Truth of the 
 Christian Religion ;" the " Just Procedure of those 
 of the Reformed Religion ;" and " The Eucharist." 
 The latter work occasioned the conference at Fon- 
 tainbleau, in the year 1600, between Du Plessis 
 and a celebrated Romish Cardinal, which so exalted 
 the reputation and popularity of Du Plessis, that he 
 was known by the title of the " Protestant Pope." 
 He produced in 1607, a work named "The Mystery 
 of Iniquity, or History of the Papacy," which traced 
 the gradual progress of ecclesiastical tyranny, com- 
 pared with Scripture prophecies. 
 
 About the same time, he published his " Exhor- 
 tation to the Jews, concerning the Messiah." But 
 the production that gained the most distinguished 
 rank in the literary and Christian world, was his 
 " Defence of the truth of the Christian Religion," 
 in which he employs the weapons of reason and of 
 learning, with great force and skill against atheists, 
 epicureans, heathens, Jews, Mohammedans and 
 infidels. All his literary works exhibited marks of 
 genius, piety, and deep research, and were most of 
 them written in French first, and then translated in- 
 to Latin. 
 
 He spent the two last years of his life at his 
 
 barony of La Forest, in Poictou, in retirement, 
 
 study and devotion. In his last illness his mind 
 
 was greatly concerned for the distresses of the Pro- 
 
 3
 
 34 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 testant church, and many of his seasons of devo- 
 tion were employed in supplicating her deliverance. 
 When he was reminded of his great services to the 
 church, he replied, " alas ! what was there of mine 
 in the work 1 Say not it was /, but the grace of 
 God that was in me. I ask for nothing but mercy 
 free mercy." He declared that his hope was 
 founded on the goodness of God in Jesus Christ, 
 who had been made unto him wisdom, righteous- 
 ness, sanctification and redemption. To one who 
 blessed God for giving him such peace and comfort 
 in death, he said earnestly, " / feel, I feel what I 
 speak." 
 
 On the morning of the day in which he died, he 
 repeated with great emphasis, " We knoiv that if our 
 earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we 
 have a building of God, an house not made with 
 hands, eternal in the heavens." " Are you assured," 
 said a friend, " of sharing in that eternal weight of 
 glory 1" " I am perfectly assured," answered he, 
 " by the demonstration of the Holy Spirit, more 
 powerfully, more clear and certain, than any demon- 
 stration of Euclid." As he secretly prayed, the 
 following broken sentences were gathered by sur- 
 rounding friends. " I fly, I fly to heaven. Let the 
 angels now carry me to the bosom of my Saviour." 
 As his last moments vanished, he said, " I know 
 that my Redeemer liveth, and with these eyes shall 
 I see him ;" repeating several times emphatically, 
 " liipse oculis." 
 
 Thus in the lively exercise of faith died this good 
 man, in 1623, great in honors, venerable in years, 
 and full of unspeakable peace.
 
 SIR FRANCIS BACON. 
 
 FRANCIS BACON was the son of Sir Nicholas 
 Bacon, lord keeper of the great seal, in the reign of 
 Elizabeth, and of Anna, the daughter of Sir Anthony 
 Cooke, illustrious both for her classical attainments 
 and domestic virtues. He was born in 
 1561. the year 1561, and so rapid were his advan- 
 ces in the different branches of science, 
 that he was judged qualified for the university at the 
 age of 12 years, and placed at Trinity College, 
 Cambridge. Here he made such incredible progress 
 as to complete the whole circle of the liberal arts 
 before the age of 16, and to perceive, even at that 
 early period, the futility and imperfection of the 
 reigning philosophy, which afterwards, for the service 
 of mankind, he so effectually exposed. 
 
 Leaving the university with the highest applause, 
 he was sent on his travels, and there acquired a deep, 
 and almost intuitive knowledge of the manners and 
 customs of other countries, the characters and views 
 of their princes and ministers, which he exemplified 
 in a paper on the jreneral state of Europe, published 
 before he attained his 19th year. During the reign 
 of Elizabeth, the strong enmity of Sir Robert Cecil 
 prevented his being advanced at court ; hence he 
 prosecuted philosophical studies with energy, and
 
 36 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 gave his time to the composition and publication of 
 learned works. 
 
 In the reign of the First James, he was called 
 from the retirement of his studies, to the disturbed 
 theatre of public life. In 1614, he was appointed 
 attorney general, iu 1616, privy counsellor, in 
 1617, lord keeper of the seals. But the rapidity of 
 his promotion excited envy in the ambitious, and 
 hatred in the disappointed rival ; and he began to 
 feel that the cares of high office, only opened the 
 way for more formidable causes of pain. He had 
 scarcely attained the dangerous summit of honor, 
 when he was hurled from it, with the impeachment 
 of his honesty, and with the accusation of error in 
 his character of chief judge. Different historians 
 have differently colored this event, according to their 
 particular attachments or prejudices ; but the candid 
 and judicious have believed him a martyr, more than 
 a criminal, and have seen in his sudden disgrace an 
 exemplification of Shakespeare's expressive senti- 
 ment, 
 
 "Ah how wretched 
 Is that poor man who hangs on princes' favors !" 
 
 The reflecting mind may also perceive the hand 
 of God, taking him from those scenes which often 
 corrupt the noblest soul, compress it in the bonds of 
 the world, and alienate it from its God. May we 
 not apply to him that beautiful passage from the 
 book of wisdom ? " He was taken away suddenly, 
 lest wickedness should alter his understanding, or 
 deceit beguile his soul." Imprisonment gave him 
 leisure to review his past life, to confirm his princi- 
 ples and habits, to renew the fervor of his devotion. 
 From prison he passed to the shades of a literary
 
 SIR FRANCIS BACON. 37 
 
 and contemplative life, which he had always loved, 
 and from which he had been unfortunately called. 
 Experimental philosophy again allured his genius, 
 and employed his time, and his investigations contin- 
 ued to lead his mind powerfully to the First Cause 
 of the wonders and mysteries of Nature. 
 
 He observes in his works, that "a thorough in- 
 sight into philosophy makes a good believer, but a 
 smattering naturally produces a race of despicable 
 infidels. I' had rather believe all the fables in the 
 Legend, the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that- this 
 universal frame is without a mind: and therefore God 
 never wrought a miracle to convert an atheist, be- 
 cause his ordinary works confute atheism. A little 
 philosophy may incline men to atheism, but depth in 
 philosophy will bring them to religion : for while the 
 mind looks on second causes scattered, it must 
 sometimes rest in them, but when it beholds the 
 chain confederated and linked together, it must 
 needs fly to Providence and the Deity. The first 
 principle of right reason is religion, and after all my 
 studies and inquiries, I durst die with no other 
 thoughts than those of the Christian Religion." 
 
 While this active man waspursuing his researches, 
 and anxiously studying the mysteries in which Na- 
 ture has enveloped her operations, he was suddenly 
 taken ill, at Highgate, in the midst of his experi- 
 ments. He was conveyed to the house of the Earl 
 of Arundel in the vicinity, and after a week's sick- 
 ness, breathed his last on the 9th of April, 1626. 
 So passed away a philosopher, a man of genius 
 science penetration deep research ; and what is 
 still more, a Christian. 
 
 Addison, in vindication of the Christian religion, 
 3*
 
 38 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 having enumerated some of the wisest men who had 
 believed and practised it, gives this testimony of 
 Bacon; " I shall in this paper only instance a man, 
 who for the greatness of his genius, and compass of 
 his knowledge, did honor to his age and country, I 
 had almost said to human nature itself. He pos- 
 sessed at once, all those extraordinary talents which 
 were divided among the great authors of antiquity ; 
 he had the sound, distinct knowledge of Aristotle, 
 with all the beautiful light graces and embellishments 
 of Cicero : one does not know which to admire 
 most in his writings ; the strength of reason, force 
 of style, or brightness of imagination. I was infi- 
 nitely pleased to find among the works of this extra- 
 ordinary man, a prayer of his own composing, which 
 for elevation of thought, and piety of expression, 
 seems rather the devotion of an angel than a man." 
 But our present design is not to follow the flight 
 of his genius, or the depth of his philosophical re- 
 searches ; they are preserved for the wonder and 
 admiration of posterity. We come to view him in 
 his devotions ; for he possessed that spirit which 
 "reason approves, and revelation purifies and exalts. 
 we come to view him as his own private page dis- 
 closes him, prostrate before the mercy seat, humbled 
 by the afflictions which lay'heavy upon him, yet sup- 
 ported by a sense of his integrity, and love of man- 
 kind, and proving that the experience of the Psalmist 
 was his also : "It is good for me to draw nigh unto 
 God." 
 
 A Prayer preserved ainong his Manuscripts. 
 "Most Gracious Lord God, my Merciful Father,
 
 SIR FRANCIS BACON. 39 
 
 my Creator, my Redeemer, and my Comforter. 
 Thou, O Lord, searches! the depths and secrets of 
 all hearts ; thou acknowledges! the upright of heart, 
 thou judgest the hypocrite : thou ponderest man's 
 thoughts and doings as in a balance ; thou measur- 
 est their intentions as with a line ; vanity and crooked 
 ways cannot be hidden from thee. Remember, 
 Lord, how thy servant has walked before thee ; 
 remember what I have sought, and what has .been 
 principal in my intentions. I have loved thine 
 assemblies, I have mourned for the divisions of thy 
 church, I have delighted in the brightness of thy 
 sanctuary ; the vine which thy right hand hath planted 
 in this nation, I have ever prayed unto thee that it 
 might have the first and the latter rain, and that she 
 might stretch her branches to the sea and to the 
 flood. The state and bread of the poor and op- 
 pressed, have been precious in mine eyes ; I have 
 hated all cruelty and hardness of heart : I have, 
 though a despised weed, procured the good of all 
 men. If any have been enemies, I thought not of 
 them ; neither hath the sun set upon my displeasure, 
 but I have been as a dove, free from all superfluity 
 of maliciousness. Thousand have been my sins, 
 and ten thousand my transgressions ; but thy sancti- 
 fications .have remained with me, and mine heart, 
 through thy grace, hath been an unqucnched coal on 
 thine altar. 
 
 Lord my strength ! I have since my youth 
 met with thee in all my ways, by thy fatherly com- 
 passions, by thy comfortable chastisements, by thy 
 visible providences. As thy favors have increased 
 upon me, so have thy corrections ; so as thou hast 
 always been near me, Lord ; and ever as my
 
 40 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS 
 
 worldly blessings were exalted, so secret darts from 
 thee have pierced me ; and when I have ascended 
 before men, I have descended in humiliation before 
 thee. 
 
 And now, when I thought most of peace and 
 honor, thine hand is heavy upon me, and hath hum- 
 bled me according to thy former loving kindness, 
 keeping me still in thy school, not as an alien, but a 
 child. Just are thy judgments upon me for my 
 sins, which are more in number than the sands of the 
 sea, but have no proportion to thy mercies : for 
 what are the sands of the sea 1 Earth, heavens, 
 and all these, are nothing to thy mercies ! I confess 
 before thee, that I am debtor to thee for the precious 
 talent of thy gifts and graces, which I have neither 
 put into a napkin, or put out as I ought, to exchan- 
 gers, where it might have made best profit ; but 
 misspent it in things for which I was least fit ; so I 
 may truly say, my soul hath been a stranger in the 
 house of her pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me, 
 O Lord, for my Saviour's sake ; and receive me 
 unto thy bosom, or guide me in thy way."
 
 JOHN MILTON. 
 
 JOHN MILTON, a most illustrious English Poet, 
 was descended from an ancient family. His gr.and- 
 father, a zealous Papist, disinherited his only son, 
 the father of our poet, for embracing the Protestant 
 faith. He took refuge in London, and obtained the 
 employment of a scrivener ; and in that 
 
 1608. place, on the 9th of December, 1608, 
 was born his first son, John Milton. 
 
 After receiving a domestic education, he was re- 
 moved to St. Paul's School, where by indefatigable 
 application he made great progress in classical 
 learning; and from the 12th year of his age devot- 
 ed the greatest part of the night to study. In his 
 1 6th year he was admitted to Christ's College, Cam- 
 bridge, where he continued seven years, strengthen- 
 ing the foundation which he had previously laid, and 
 erecting thereon a superstructure which should con- 
 tain the whole circle of arts and sciences. He had 
 composed some beautiful Latin Poems, previous to 
 his entrance at the University ; and the greatest part 
 of his compositions in that language, were produced 
 during the period of his continuance there. After 
 his emancipation he returned to his father, and 
 prosecuted his studies for 5 years with unparalleled 
 assiduity and success, and read with renewed atten-
 
 42 BIOGRAPHY' OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 tion all the Greek and Latin authors. His father 
 had designed him for the church ; but his mind had 
 been so disgusted with the controversies of different 
 sects, that this intention was frustrated. 
 
 After the death of his mother, he began his trav- 
 els, through France and Italy, with the spirit of a 
 studious inquirer, seeking to gain from the customs 
 and curiosities of other countries something to in- 
 crease his cherished stock of knowledge. He 
 gained many admirers, particularly at Florence, 
 where his literary attainments were highly applaud- 
 ed. In his second journey to Rome, he was in- 
 formed that the Jesuits were incensed against him, 
 for the freedom of his discourse on religious sub- 
 jects, and was cautioned to beware of their malice. 
 " I have made it a rule," said Milton, " never to start 
 a religious subject in this country, but if I were 
 questioned concerning my faith, never to dissemble, 
 whatever I might suffer." " He had," says a writer 
 of celebrity, " a soul above disguise and dissimula- 
 tion, and was never ashamed or afraid to vindicate 
 the truth ; for he had in him the spirit of an old 
 martyr." 
 
 His purpose was to have visited Sicily and 
 Greece, but receiving intelligence of the civil con- 
 tentions in his own country, he felt it inconsistent 
 with his principles to continue abroad, even for the 
 improvement of his mind, while his countrymen 
 were struggling for liberty at home. He returned, 
 and engaged ardently in the cause of republicanism, 
 for his powerful and independent mind was disgust- 
 ed with the yoke and trappings of royalty. 
 
 He undertook, also, the education of a small 
 number ol young men, and like manv other great
 
 JOHN MILTON. 43 
 
 characters, delighted in impressing on the unformed 
 mind, the principles of knowledge and virtue. His 
 method of education was as much superior to the 
 pedantry and jargon of common schools, as his ge- 
 nius was superior to that of a common schoolmas- 
 ter. His letter to Mr. Samuel Hartlib, elucidates 
 in some measure his own method and practice. 
 
 The controversies of the times began to engage 
 him, and in the course of the year 1641, he wrote 
 and published, a treatise of Reformation, in two vol- 
 umes; prelatical Episcopacy; the Reason of Church 
 Government urged against Prelacy ; and animad- 
 versions upon a work of Bishop Hall. When we 
 consider that these books were all completed, with- 
 in the short circle of a year of a year given also 
 to the instruction of young persons in the Latin, 
 Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, Italian and 
 French languages, with the sciences of mathemat- 
 ics and astronomy, we are astonished at what his 
 diligence accomplished, and amazed at what his 
 mind could contain. 
 
 In 1643 he married ; but whatever were his en- 
 gagements, literature and poetry were not long ab- 
 sent from his thoughts. In 1645 a collection of his 
 Latin and English poems appeared, in which the 
 Allegro, Penseroso, and some others were first pub- 
 lished. Controversies, theological and political, 
 with many adversaries, particularly the celebrated 
 Salmasius, employed much of his time. After 
 the tragical death of Charles First, a book was pub- 
 lished by one of his adherents, entitled The Royal 
 Image ; which excited greater emotion and com- 
 miseration in the minds of the people, than the 
 King himself did, while alive. Milton answered it 
 with enercy and success, entitling his work, " Ico-
 
 44 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 noclastes" or, The Image Breaker, the surname of 
 some Greek Emperors, who in their zeal against 
 idolatry, broke all superstitious images to pieces. 
 
 But to enumerate and give the character of his 
 controversial works would be an impossibility, and 
 I cannot but regret that a man of his talents and 
 erudition, should employ so much of his time in 
 compositions of local value, which though they are 
 strongly marked with the spirit of the times, and the 
 power of a great genius, do not essentiallymstruct 
 or benefit posterity. 
 
 He had begun a History of England, deduced 
 from the earliest period, but proceeded no farther 
 than the Norman Conquest ; a call to the office of 
 Latin Secretary for foreign affairs put a partial check 
 upon his private studies. A personal calamity also 
 afflicted him ; his eye sight had long been weak and 
 decaying, while his intense studies only increased the 
 malady. The sight of his left eye first failed him, 
 and about the year 1648, he became totally blind. 
 In a letter to his physician, marking the progress of 
 this affliction, he says " a constant and settled 
 darkness is before me, as well by day as by night ; 
 a direct blackness, or else spotted and woven with 
 ash-color, is used to pour itself on me, except now 
 and then, the eye rolling itself a little, seems to ad- 
 mit, I know not what little smallness of light as 
 through a chink." Or to use his pathetic words 
 
 " Hail, holy light Offspring of Heaven! but thou 
 
 Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 
 
 To find thy piercing ray and rind no dawn. 
 
 Seasons return, but not to me return 
 
 Day, or the sweet approach of even or mom, 
 
 Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
 
 Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine."
 
 JOHN MILTON. 45 
 
 Other afflictions also awaited him. The excru- 
 ciating pains of the gout completed the ruin of his 
 constitution, and led him to the tomb. He suffered 
 great pecuniary losses in the civil wars, and after 
 the re-establishment of monarchy lost his office of 
 Latin Secretary, and narrowly escaped imprison- 
 ment and trial, for his attachment to republican prin- 
 ciples. He met also with domestic vexations ; his 
 first wife disliking his retired and studious life, went 
 again to the gaiety of her father's house, refusing to 
 remain with him ; but at length returned of her own 
 accord, and obtained reconciliation. The second, 
 whose sweetness and goodness he commends, died 
 in a few months after marriage ; and the third, who 
 survived him, was a woman of a violent spirit 
 
 But no trouble, pecuniary, domestic or personal, 
 could turn his attention or his love from his studies ; 
 for his mind was too eager to be diverted, and too 
 strong to be subdued. After the Restoration he 
 spent the remainder of his life in retirement, and 
 closely applied himself to finish Paradise Lost, which 
 he began to reduce to its present form in 1655, and 
 published in 1677. Poetry, music and mathemat- 
 ics, were his favorite amusements ; and he excelled 
 in the studies of logic, history and divinky. He 
 read in many languages, and was complete master 
 of the Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, Ital- 
 ian, French and Spanish. He had a quick appre- 
 hension, a sublime imagination, a strong memory, a 
 piercing judgment, a wit always ready and adapted 
 to the occasion. 
 
 It was his belief that his loss of sight added vigor 
 to his mental faculties, by turning his attention from 
 frivolous objects and concentrating the energies of 
 4
 
 46 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 his soul. He had the advantage of a pious educa- 
 tion, and all his writings, whether poetry or prose, 
 whether written in youth, maturity or age, deeply 
 evidence a religious turn of mind. He studied and 
 admired the Holy Scriptures above all books what- 
 ever, expressed the profoundest reverence for the 
 Deity in all his words and actions, and was full of 
 the spirit of religion. 
 
 While we contemplate the mental excellences of 
 men,, we naturally form some image or associate 
 some idea of their personal appearance. From a 
 very ancient writer I accordingly extract this des- 
 cription. " In youth, Milton was esteemed very 
 beautiful, and while he was a student in Cambridge, 
 went by the name of the Lady of Christ's College. 
 He had a very fine skin, and fresh complexion ; 
 his hair was of a light brown, and parting on the 
 forehead, hung down in curls waving upon his 
 .shoulders ; his features were exact and regular ; 
 his vcice agreeable and musical ; his deport- 
 ment erect and manly. He was middle sized, and 
 well proportioned, neither tall or short, lean or cor- 
 pulent ; strong and active in his younger years, and 
 though ever afflicted with severe head aches, and 
 finally with blindness and gout, was still a comely 
 and well looking man to the last. His eyes were 
 of a light blue color, and after he lost the sight of 
 them, which happened in his 43d year, they still ap- 
 peared without spot or blemish. 
 
 The number of his written works was 40, many 
 in the Latin language, and some consisting of seve- 
 ral volumes. His sonnets, epigrams and letters are 
 also numerous, and the immense proportion of 
 writing done in his office of Latin Secretary for 
 foreign affairs, during the reign of Cromwell and
 
 JOHN MILTON. 47 
 
 the Commonwealth, it is impossible to calculate. 
 But intense habits of study, and the cruel rava- 
 ges of the gout, were daily weakening his hold 
 upon life. In his 66th year, on the 10th of No- 
 vember, 1674, he died by a quiet and silent expira- 
 tion, without a groan, a struggle or a sigh. 
 
 Three daughters by his first wife survived him ; 
 the only child of his second wife died with her, and 
 his third ,had none. His only son died an infant, 
 and his last descendant, the youngest daughter of 
 Milton's youngest, was found some time in the last 
 century, living in great obscurity and poverty. The 
 bounty of a generous people made the decline of her 
 life comfortable, from veneration to the memory of 
 her grandfather ; but his line is now wholly extinct. 
 
 Of all the voluminous writings of Milton, that 
 of Paradise Lost, has the most greatly contributed 
 to establish his fame, and gain the admiration of 
 posterity. He has scorned the aid of other poets, 
 and pursued a tract of originality, borne on the wings 
 of his own strong and aspiring genius. Dr. John- 
 son says, " from his cotemporaries, he neither 
 courted or received support ; there is in his writings, 
 nothing by which the pride of other authors might 
 be gratified, or their favor gained ; no exchange of 
 praise, no solicitation of support. His great works 
 were performed under discountenance and in blind- 
 ness, but difficulties vanished at his touch ; he was 
 born for whatever is arduous." Hayley, one of his 
 biographers, says, " Milton was perhaps of all mor- 
 tals the least selfish ; he contended for religion 
 without seeking emoluments from the church, and 
 for the state without aiming at civil or military em- 
 ployment. There is one characteristic of this great
 
 48 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 man which ought to be considered as the chief source 
 of his happiness and fame ; that is, his early and 
 perpetual attachment to religion. 
 
 "It must gratify every Christian to reflect, that the 
 man of our country most eminent for energy of 
 mind, for intenseness of application, and frankness 
 and intrepidity in asserting what he believed to be the 
 cause of truth, was so constantly devoted to Chris- 
 tianity, that he appears to have made the Bible not 
 only the rule of his conduct, but the director of his 
 genius. His poetry flowed from the Scripture, as 
 if his unparalleled poetical powers had been ex- 
 pressly given him by Heaven, for the purpose of 
 imparting to religion such lustre as the' most splen- 
 did of human faculties could bestow." 
 
 The majesty and sublimity of this great work, 
 and its uncommon success, may be imputed to the 
 manner and perseverance of the poet's preparation. 
 Deep reflection added solidity to his genius, constant 
 study of the holy Scriptures elevated and gave it 
 sublimity, fervent prayer strengthened, purified, 
 perfected his design. Think not that this is 
 unfounded conjecture, and that without authority 
 we add him to the number of those who have prac- 
 tised the duty of prayer and experienced its effica- 
 cy. Read his own unequivocal testimony, given in 
 the " Reason of Church Government," published 
 in 1641. He there promises with calm confidence to 
 undertake something which may be of use and 
 honor to his country. " This," says he, " is not to 
 be obtained but by devout prayer to that Eternal 
 Spirit, that can enrich with all utterance and know- 
 ledge, and send out his seraphim with the hallowed 
 fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of
 
 JOHN MILTON. 49 
 
 tvhom he pleases. To this must be added industri- 
 ous and select reading, steady observation, and in- 
 sight into all seemly and generous arts and affairs ; 
 till which in some measure be compassed, I refuse 
 not to sustain this expectation." Dr. Johnson 
 remarks, that " from a promise like this, at once 
 fervid, pious and rational, might be expected the 
 Paradise Lost." Thus setting himself apart by 
 prayer and meditation, as for a holy work, he ob- 
 tained grace from on high, with the spirit of utter- 
 ance and wisdom, so that he might live after death, 
 in the memory and admiration of men. In almost 
 every part of this sublime poem, we trace the sen- 
 timents and the fervor of a Christian, and on the first 
 page he solicits the aid of the Holy Spirit, that aid 
 which he had so often entreated in the silence of 
 the closet, and the solemnity of secret devotion. 
 
 "But chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer 
 Above all temples, the upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me. 
 
 What in me is dark 
 
 Illumine : what is low raise and support : 
 That to the heiht of this great argument 
 I may asseit eternal Providence, 
 And justify the ways of God to man." 
 
 Also in his third book, after a feeling allusion to 
 his melancholy state of blindness, he invokes that 
 divine Light which shineth from above and enlight- 
 eneth the darkness of man's heart. 
 
 "But thickened clouds and ever during dark 
 Surround me : from the cheerful ways of man 
 Cut off: fair Nature's works expunged and rased 
 And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 So much the rather, thou Celestial Light, 
 4*
 
 50 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 Shine inward : and the mind through all her powers 
 Irradiate. There plant eyes, oil mist from thence 
 Purge and disperse, that 1 may see and tell 
 Of tilings invisible to mortal sight." 
 
 He implies that his prayer had been successful, 
 and that the work to him was divested of labor, for 
 as if inspired, the thoughts and expressions were 
 poured upon him in their full tide of melody. He 
 speaks of the assistance given him, under the figure 
 of a celestial patroness, who he says, 
 
 " Dictates to him slumbering, and inspires 
 Easy his unpremeditated verse." 
 
 " I sing with voice unchanged, 
 To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days, 
 On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues : 
 In darkne.-s, and with dangers compassed round 
 And solitude : yet not alone, while thou 
 Visit'st my plumbers nightly, or when morn 
 Purples the east. Still govern thou my song. 
 For thou art heavenly." 
 
 His high idea of the efficacy of prayer, may be; 
 drawn from the circumstance of his representing 
 our first parents in deep and contrite supplication, 
 after their act of disobedience, and his supposing 
 the Saviour to intercede for them, and even the Al- 
 mighty to listen and to relent. 
 
 " How much more if we pray him, will his ear 
 Be open ; and his heart to pity incline. 
 So spake our Father penitent, nor Eve 
 Felt less remorse. They forthwith to the place 
 Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell 
 Before him reverent, and both confessed 
 Humbly their faults, and pardon begged with tears 
 Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from contrite hearts in sign
 
 JOHN MILTON. 51 
 
 Of sorrow unfeigned and humiliation meek. 
 Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood 
 Praying, for from the mercy seat above 
 Prevement grace descending had removed 
 The stony from their hearts, that sighs now breathed 
 Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer 
 Inspired, and winged for heaven with speedier flight 
 Than loudest oratory ; in they passed 
 Dimcnsionless through heavenly doors, then clad 
 With incense where trie golden altar fumed, 
 By their great intercessor, came in sight 
 Before the Father's throne ; then the glad Son 
 Presenting, thus to intercede began."
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE, lord chief justice of En- 
 gland, was born in Gloucestershire, in the 
 
 1609. year 1609; the son of a barrister, eminent 
 for integrity and piety. Before he was 
 six years old, he lost both his parents, but by the 
 care of a judicious guardian, great attention was 
 paid to his education. At Oxford he for awhile 
 distinguished himself by his proficiency, until some 
 strolling players took up their abode near the uni- 
 versity, and his fondness for theatrical amusements 
 partially stifled his affection for study. He imbibed 
 also a strong inclination for a military life, and it 
 was with difficulty that a valuable friend persuaded 
 him to correct the rashness of his choice, and em- 
 brace the profession of the law. After his entrance 
 at Lincoln's Inn, his former love of knowledge re- 
 turned,'and his application was so unremitting that he 
 studied fifteen hours in a day, for many years. In 
 early youth, his fondness for company led him into 
 many levities and extravagances, but this propensity 
 was subdued by a circumstance which made a deep 
 impression on his mind during the remainder of his 
 life. 
 
 Having joined a party of young men of his ac- 
 quaintance, one of them, through excess of wine,
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 53 
 
 fell down, apparently dead at their feet. Young 
 Hale was so affected on the occasion, that he im- 
 mediately retired to another room, and shutting the 
 door, fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly to God 
 that Ilia friend might be restored to life, and that he 
 might be pardoned for giving countenance to such 
 excess. At the same time he made a solemn vow 
 that he would never again mingle in such pursuits, 
 or "drink a health" while he lived. The life of 
 his friend was restored, and he ever after religiously 
 observed his vow. There appeared an entire change 
 in his disposition ; he forsook all dissipated com- 
 pany, and strictly divided his time between the 
 studies of his profession, and the duties of religion. 
 
 He became remarkable for a grave and exemplary 
 deportment, great moderation of temper, and reli- 
 gious tenderness of spirit, was frequent in secret 
 prayer, fasting, and giving alms, and was so far from 
 being lifted up by spiritual pride, that the remem- 
 brance of his past infirmities frequently led him to 
 express a fear, "lest he should be left to do some 
 enormous thing, which might cast a reproach upon 
 his profession, and give great advantage to impious 
 men to blaspheme the name of God." 
 
 He was exemplary in family religion, performed the 
 service of daily worship, and was so attached to the 
 public ordinances of the Sabbath that for 36 years 
 he was never absent from church. The following 
 short extract from a diary that he regularly kept, 
 shows the piety of his mind, and his solicitude to 
 make the best use of his time. 
 
 Morning. 
 
 1. "To lift up the heart in thankfulness to God 
 for renewing my life.
 
 54 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 2. To renew my covenant with God in Christ ; 
 first by acts of faith receiving Christ, and rejoicing 
 in the height of that relation : secondly by resolving 
 to be one of his people, and to do him allegiance. 
 
 3. Adoration and Prayer. 
 
 Day Employment. 
 
 1. In our ordinary calling to serve God. It is a 
 service to Christ, though ever so mean. Here ob- 
 serve faithfulness, diligence, cheerfulness. Be care- 
 ful not to overcharge myself with more business 
 than I can bear. 
 
 2. Spiritual employment. Mingle somewhat of 
 God's immediate service with the business of the 
 day. 
 
 If alone. 
 
 1. Beware of wandering, vain, sensual thoughts : 
 fly from thyself rather than entertain them. 
 
 Let thy solitary thoughts be profitable. View 
 the evidences of thy salvation, the state of thy soul, 
 the coming of Christ, and thine own mortality ; this 
 will make thee humble and watchful. 
 
 Company. 
 
 Do good to them. Use God's name reverently. 
 Beware of leaving an ill impression or ill example. 
 
 Receive good from them if they are more know- 
 ing. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 Cast up the accounts of the day. If there was 
 aught amiss, beg pardon : resolve to he more vigi- 
 lant. If thou hast done well, bless ihe rnorcy and
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 55 
 
 "race of God which have supplied thee." Thus 
 did this excellent man watch his spiritual concerns, 
 at the same time that he was making progress in the 
 sciences, and becoming a greater proficient in the 
 law than any of his cotemporaries. In his office of 
 judge he conducted himself with the strictest integ- 
 rity, and the motives that influenced him were foun- 
 ded on the only firm basis that of piety. The 
 excellence of his resolution may be seen by a short 
 extract from one of his papers, entitled " Things to 
 be had in continual remembrance. That in the 
 administration of justice I am entrusted for God, the 
 king and the country ; and therefore that it be done 
 uprightly, deliberately, resolutely. That I rest not 
 Ujxm my own direction and strength ; but implore 
 and rest upon the direction and strength of God. 
 That in the execution of justice, I carefully lay aside 
 my own passions, and give no countenance to them, 
 however provoked. That I be not biassed by com- 
 passion to the poor, or favor to the rich, in point of 
 justice. That popular applause, or court dislike, 
 have no influence in any thing I do in the distribution 
 of justice. That I be not solicitous about what men 
 think or say, so long as I keep myself exactly accor- 
 dant to the rules of justice." 
 
 He raised the reputation of the court by his im- 
 partial administration, diligence and exactness, while 
 he supported the character of a true Christian, by 
 temperance, charity and humility. He reserved a 
 tenth part of all he obtained for works of benevolence, 
 and in an age when the most profuse entertainments 
 were fashionable, never attended any, or gave any 
 except to the poor ; literally fulfilling that command 
 of our Saviour, "When thou makest a feast, call the 
 poor, and the lame, the hah, and the blind." Ho
 
 56 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 would never receive the smallest present from those 
 whose causes were before him, or listen to private 
 addresses from the greatest personages in any matter 
 where justice was concerned. One of the highest 
 peers of England, once went to his chamber, and 
 informed him, " that having a suit in law to be tried 
 before him, he came to acquaint him with its circum- 
 stances, that he might the better understand it, when 
 it should be heard in court ;" but he interrupted him 
 with the declaration, "that he never received any 
 information of causes but in open court, where both 
 parties might be heard alike." The duke departed, 
 greatly displeased, and complained to Charles Se- 
 cond : but his majesty commanded him "to be con- 
 tent, for he himself should not have been treated 
 better, if he had gone thus to solicit him in any of 
 his own causes." 
 
 Among the particular friends of Sir Matthew 
 Hale, was the celebrated Selden, who induced him 
 to engage in the whole circle of the sciences, for his 
 apprehension was quick, his memory tenacious, and 
 his application indefatigable. To his professional 
 knowledge he united an acquaintance with mathe- 
 matics, anatomy, surgery, physic, experimental 
 philosophy, history, chronology, and divinity. It 
 would seem incredible that amidst all these studies, 
 he should find time for composition, yet he com- 
 pleted fourteen different works, many of them of con- 
 siderable length, and all bearing the stamp of unaf- 
 fected piety. 
 
 His "Contemplations, moral and divine," are 
 deservedly admired by every friend of experimental 
 Christianity. "True religion," he says there, 
 " teaches the soul an high veneration for Almighty 
 God ; asincere and upright walking as in the presence
 
 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 67 
 
 of the invisible, all-seeing One. It makes a man 
 truly love, honor, obey him, and be careful to know 
 what his will is. It renders the heart thankful to 
 him, as Creator, Redeemer, Benefactor. It makes 
 a man entirely depend on him, seek for guidance, 
 protection, direction, and submit to his will with 
 patience and resignation of soul. It gives the law 
 not only to his words and actions, but to his very 
 thoughts and purposes ; so that he dare not entertain 
 any, which are unbecoming the presence of that God 
 to whom all thoughts are legible. It crushes all 
 pride and haughtiness, both in the heart and carriage, 
 and gives an humble state of mind before God and 
 man. It regulates the passions, and brings them 
 into due moderation. It gives a man a right esti- 
 mate of this present world, and sets his heart and 
 hopes above it, so that he never loves it more than it 
 deserves. It makes the wealth and glory of this 
 world, high places and great preferments, but of little 
 consequence to him ; so that he is neither covetous, 
 nor ambitious, nor over-solicitous concerning their 
 advantages. It makes him value the love of God 
 and the peace of his own conscience, above all the 
 wealth and honor in the world, and to be very diligent 
 in preserving them. He performs all his duties to 
 God with sincerity and humility ; and while he lives 
 on earth, his conversation, his hope, his treasures 
 are in heaven ; and he endeavors to walk suitably 
 to such an hope." 
 
 Speaking of the divine and invisible guidance 
 which is often granted to the prayers of men, he 
 remarks, "Though this secret direction of Almighty 
 God is principally seen in matters relating to the 
 good of the soul, yet in the concerns of this life, a 
 good man, fearing God and begging his direction, 
 6
 
 58 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 will very often, if not at all times, find it. I can cull 
 my own experience to witness, that even in the tem- 
 poral affairs of my whole life, I have never been 
 disappointed of the best direction, when I have in 
 humility and sincerity implored it." 
 
 This eminently virtuous man enjoyed almost 
 uninterrupted health, till the 66th year of his age, 
 when he was affected with an indisposition which 
 impaired his strength and forced him to retire from 
 the cares of his office. During a painful sickness 
 he exhibited the most exemplary patience, and per- 
 fect resignation, and enjoyed the free use of his rea- 
 son and understanding till the last moment ; a favor 
 for which he had often and earnestly prayed. He 
 continued to retire daily for his studies and devotions, 
 and when he was unable to move, would .have his 
 servants carry him to the place where he had been 
 accustomed to address God in secret. As the win- 
 ter came on, he saw with great joy his time of deliver- 
 ance approaching, and his earnest desire after a 
 more glorious state was tempered with the meekest 
 submission to the will of God. He had lived a life 
 of prayer, and, if it may be so expressed, he died a 
 death of prayer ; for when his voice was so sunk 
 that it could not be heard, his friends perceived by 
 the constant lifting up of his eyes and hands, what 
 was the employment of his departing soul. He 
 struggled not, and seemed to have no pang in his 
 last moments, but breathed out his pious spirit in 
 peace,on the 25th of December, 1676, aged 67 years. 
 
 "Such was thy life, and suc.li thy death, in whom 
 Our British theme has gloried with just cause 
 immortal Hale ! for deep discernment prais'd, 
 And sound integrity; not more than fum'd 
 For sanctity of manners undefil'd." COWPLR'S TASK.
 
 REV. ROWLAND 1VEVIT. 
 
 ROWLAND NEVIT was born in the year 1609, at 
 
 an obscure parish in England, educated at the school 
 
 of Shrewsbury, and while a youth admit- 
 
 1609. ted Fellow of the University of Oxford. 
 His proficiency in study well merited the 
 honors which were there conferred upon him, and 
 his pious inclinations led him to the clerical profes- 
 sion, to which he was ordained, in his 25th year. He 
 was first presented to the vicarage of Staunton, and 
 afterwards to that of Oswestry, where he labored as 
 a faithful and zealous minister, and strove by his 
 discourses, conversation and prayers, to impress 
 the minds, and benefit the souls of his flock. 
 
 When the people of his charge were visited by 
 the plague, and almost all who were able to remove 
 might be seen flying in every direction, he continu- 
 ed with the sick and dying remnant, comforted, in- 
 $tructed, prayed for them, and Heaven not only pre- 
 served his life, but added an apparent blessing to 
 his exertions. 
 
 With many other faithful ministers he was silen- 
 ced by the act of Nonconformity, but continued 
 with his people until his death, rendering them eve- 
 ry service in his power. He was peculiarly atten- 
 tive to the several duties of family religion, and to
 
 60 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 the pious education of his children, and continued 
 an example to the believers, in " life, in conversa- 
 tion, in doctrine, in spirit, in faith, in purity." He 
 deeply lamented the divisions of the church, and 
 the intemperate controversies of many sects, and 
 though his conscience would not suffer him to read 
 forms of prayer to his congregation, his love of 
 peace prompted him often to join with those who did. 
 
 In his conduct to his friends, he was unusually 
 tender and affectionate, and it was observed by 
 them, that he was frequently in ejaculatory prayer, 
 in the midst of the common scenes and employ- 
 ments of life. The service of the ministry was 
 his delight, and though his strength was easily ex- 
 hausted, he would solemnly appeal to his Maker, 
 that " if he was wearied in his service, he could ne- 
 ver be weary of it." Though subject to the fre- 
 quent infirmities of a delicate constitution, he used 
 to assert " that he was never better than in the pul- 
 pit, and there he could wish to die." 
 
 When he began to feel the agonies of dissolving 
 nature, a friend reminded him that he would soon re- 
 ceive his reward, but he replied humbly, " it is all 
 free grace." To his children who surrounded him, 
 he gave the advice and admonition of a dying father, 
 praying solemnly for each, that " the Mediator's 
 blessing might rest upon them," and adding this 
 weighty command, " I charge you all, that you meet 
 me at the right hand of Christ, at the great day." 
 Just before he departed, he said, " Go forth, my 
 soul, go forth to meet thy God ; it is now done, 
 Lord Jesus, come quickly," and thus expired at 
 his own house in Oswestry, in his 66th year, on the 
 8th day of December, 1675.
 
 REV. FRANCIS TALLENTS. 
 
 FRANCIS TAI.LENTS was a native of a small town 
 in Derbyshire, (Eng.) His family was originally 
 
 of French extraction, and his parents, who 
 1609. were strirtly religious, both died when 
 
 their children were very young. Six or- 
 phans stood around the bier on which the guides of 
 their infancy were laid, and the promise was fulfilled 
 t) them, which they were then too young to realize 
 " when my father and my mother forsake me, then 
 the Lord will take me up." They had an uncle, a 
 respectable clergyman, who adopted the orphans as 
 his own, and faithfully executed the part of a tender 
 and provident father. Two of the sons he educa- 
 ted liberally, and the eldest, who is the subject of 
 these memoirs, so distinguished himself at the pre- 
 paratory schools, that one of his instructor wrote 
 to his uncle, that " he was indeed a golden talent." 
 At 16 years of age, he was sent to the Cambridge 
 University, and from thence removed to Magdalen 
 College, to be tutor of the sons of the Earl of Suf- 
 folk. Soon after his entrance here he became seri- 
 ously impressed, and thoroughly reconciled to the 
 way of life recommended in the Scriptures, and 
 though he had strong temptations to infidelity, was 
 enabled to be victorious, and to maintain the true
 
 62 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 faith. In his 23d year he began his travels into 
 foreign parts, having under his care, the sons of the 
 Earl of Suffolk, and while he improved his mind by 
 the observation of the varying customs of men, he 
 was so far from being corrupted by their wickedness 
 or infidelity, that he declared on his return, that 
 " what he had heard and seen abroad had served to 
 confirm him in the Protestant religion." 
 
 At his return from his tour of two years, he be- 
 came an approved teacher in Magdalen College, 
 and had the honor of assisting to form the minds of 
 many who were afterwards distinguished as eminent 
 scholars. He occasionally preached during his 
 residence at the University, and continued at that 
 seat of literature, receiving and imparting know- 
 ledge, until he reached his 33d year, when he quit- 
 ted his tutorship, to be ordained Pastor of St. 
 Mary's Church in Shrewsbury. He was observed 
 to lay aside the technical terms, and lofty style of a 
 student, and though he had been 20 years an acade- 
 mician, and conversant equally with the abstruse and 
 refined parts of science, he studied to accommodate 
 himself to the meanest capacity, and to preach 
 plainly of him who was crucified. 
 
 Mr. Baxter in his memoirs says of him, " he was 
 a good scholar, and a blameless divine, most emi- 
 nent for extraordinary prudence, moderation, and 
 peaceable deportment towards all." Soon after his 
 settlement at Shrewsbury he married, but his belov- 
 ed partner survived only a short time, and his only 
 child whom he educated at Cambridge, caused him 
 great uneasiness by his unprincipled excesses, and 
 died in early life. 
 
 To these deep afflictions was added his eject-
 
 REV. FRANCIS TALLENTS. 63 
 
 mcnt from the ministry, by the act of Uniformity- to 
 which his conscience would not suffer him to ac- 
 cede, but prompted him rather to resign an employ- 
 ment which he loved, and which was his only <!<- 
 pendance for earthly subsistence. Yet was there 
 nothing bigoted or morose in his non-conformity, 
 for he attended the ministry of those who did con- 
 form, and used no irritable or improper compari- 
 sons. He kept the anniversary of the day in which 
 he was silenced, by secret prayer and fasting, and 
 styled it " a day to bring to remembrance." 
 
 Finding himself divested of employment, he was 
 prevailed upon to make a second time the tour of 
 France as tutor to two young gentlemen Bosca- 
 wen and Hampden. \VhiIe at Paris he published 
 a large treatise entitled " a description of the Ro- 
 man Catholic religion." During his absence he 
 carefully recorded in his journal all that was worthy 
 of notice, customs curiosities conversation and 
 character of learned men ; yet though this trans- 
 cript was both interesting and instructive, he never 
 could be persuaded to give it to the world. Soon 
 after his return he published his " View of Univer- 
 sal history," which was first commenced for the use 
 of his collegiate students. About this time he suf- 
 fered from the unwarrantable oppression of the 
 " Five Mile Act," which forbade all non-conformist 
 ministers to approach within five miles of any 
 church in which they had formerly officiated. He 
 had consequently removed into an obscure part of 
 the country, but his wife going to Shrewsbury upon 
 business, was suddenly taken ill and died there. 
 
 Moved by the strong impulse of mourning affec- 
 tion, to go and pay the last sad duties to her re-
 
 64 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 mains, he was brutally apprehended and sent prison- 
 er to Chester Castle. After his release he found 
 it necessary to live in privacy and retirement, and 
 to suffer in silence. When a degree of liberty was 
 granted to the dissenters, he accepted it joyfully, 
 and returned to his people, who received him ten- 
 derly. 
 
 During the exercise of his professional duties, 
 he found time to compose and publish several 
 works, and his last was "The history of Schism, 
 for the promotion o( Christian moderation, and the 
 Communion of Saints." This book, though writ- 
 ten at the advanced age of 85, shows no traces of 
 decayed intellect, but is the result of much learning, 
 aided by the reflections of a mind deeply tinctured 
 with piety and charity. 
 
 Notwithstanding his great age, he experienced 
 no sickness, except the gradual loss of strength, un- 
 til three weeks before his death, when the decay of 
 nature became more apparent. He then charged 
 his friends not to pray for his life, but that he might 
 be enabled patiently to wait for his change. When 
 the exertions of his friends once restored him from 
 a severe attack of faintness which he had hoped 
 would have been his last, he said, "Why did you not 
 let a poor old man go away quietly? Here I lie, 
 waiting waiting. Yet I bless God that I am more 
 full of comfort and joy than I am able to express." 
 He was almost constantly in prayer, and on the day 
 of his death seemed to be reviving, but at 9 o'clock 
 in the evening, sweetly sunk into his last sleep at 
 the age of 89.
 
 REV. SAMUEL STONE. 
 
 1610. 
 
 AMONG those religious persons who M-ere moved 
 to emigrate from Europe, and cast into the mass of 
 this New World's population, the leaven of sancti- 
 fied talents, and confirmed virtue, was the Rev. 
 Samuel Stone. He was a native of Hartford, in 
 England, educated at Emmanuel College, in the 
 University of Cambridge, and became the first 
 minister of Hartford, in Connecticut. He was 
 originally settled there, as colleague with the Rev. 
 Mr. Hooker, in company with whom, he led a party 
 of emigrants from Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 
 June, 1636, hoping to join a colony which had been 
 commenced on the banks of the Connecticut river, 
 in the autumn of the preceding year. 
 
 They travelled more than one hundred miles 
 through a trackless wilderness, over mountains, 
 morasses and streams, with no other guide than the 
 compass, and no covering from night or tempest, 
 but the heavens. About one hundred individuals 
 attempted this pilgrimage. The more hardy of the 
 men carried in packs upon their shoulders, the prin- 
 cipal part of their property ; the remainder drove 
 before them the cattle on which they depended for 
 subsistence. 
 
 More than a fortnight elapsed ere this perilous
 
 66 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 journey was completed, for among the colonists 
 were many who in their native clime were accustom- 
 ed to ease and affluence, women in delicate health, 
 and tender babes who required shelter and care. 
 The wife of the Rev. Mr. Hooker was at that 
 time so much indisposed, as to be borne in a rude 
 litter, upon the shoulders of firmer travellers. 
 
 The efforts of the holy men who led this suffer- 
 ing band, were well employed in strengthening their 
 faith, and encouraging them to mingle with the 
 spirit of endurance, cheerful praise to their preser- 
 ver. The thickets which had heard only the howl 
 of the savage beasts, became familiar with other 
 sounds, as the Christians proceeded, for 
 
 " They shook the depths of the desert's gloom 
 With their hymns of lofty cheer." 
 
 New trials awaited them after their arrival at the 
 place of their destination. The process of clear- 
 ing and rendering an uncultivated country habita- 
 ble, is always laborious and subject to many obstruc- 
 tions. Their sufferings during the first winter were 
 so extreme, from want of food, and exposure to cold, 
 from which their frail dwellings were insufficient to 
 protect them, that numbers attempted to regain the 
 settlements which they had left in Massachusetts, 
 and some of these left their emaciated and frozen 
 carcasses in the intervening wilderness. But the 
 majority remained patient and faithful during their 
 time of trial. Returning Spring enabled them to 
 commit such seeds as they could procure, to the lit- 
 tle spots of earth, from whence they had painfully 
 exterminated the lofty trees, and clinging brambles. 
 
 Almost the only grain which was at first cultivat-
 
 REV. SAMUEL STONE. 67 
 
 ed was Indian Corn, and as no mills could he ob- 
 tained it was pounded in mortars, to produce a 
 coarse kind of bread, which to those accustomed 
 to the wheat of Europe, was neither palatable nor 
 salutarf ; so that if disease did not spring from ab- 
 solute famine, it was often nourished in delicate 
 systems, by an uncongenial diet. In addition to 
 these calamities, the Indians who bordered closely 
 upon them, became infected with dislike and jeal- 
 ousy, and the little colony, which was already di- 
 minishing, by the effects of a severe climate, and 
 the pressure of want, was threatened with all the 
 horrors of savage warfare. But a resolution equal 
 to every exigence sprang up among them, whose 
 foundation was a steadfast piety. 
 
 It becomes us now to see what part was borne by 
 Mr. Stone, during the darkness which rested upon 
 his people. Naturally possessed of great firmness 
 and cheerfulness, he endeavored to breathe his own 
 spirit into the desponding, and to establish their foot- 
 steps upon the rock of Zion. In preaching, instruc- 
 tion from house to house, and visits to the afflicted, 
 he was unwearied. His very countenance and 
 manner had a consoling influence upon the sorrow- 
 ful, for he had adopted it as a maxim, that many 
 who know not religion, might be led to love it, if 
 they saw that it was consistent with cheerfulness. 
 The benevolence which he exercised towards all, 
 was guarded by the strictest observance of personal 
 duties. 
 
 In prayer he was frequent and fervent, and kept 
 many days of fasting ; by which he thought his 
 humility was increased, and the power of the world 
 broken. In the observance of the Sabbath he was
 
 68 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 truly exemplary, and seemed to carry from it through- 
 out the week, an elevation of soul, arising from 
 communion with God. He commenced his prepara- 
 tion for this holy season, early on the preceding 
 evening, and after contemplation and prayer, was 
 accustomed to call his family together, and repeat to 
 them the sermon which he had prepared for the 
 ensuing day. This furnished him with an opportu- 
 nity of adapting subsequent conversation to their 
 instruction on those passages which seemed most to 
 interest or affect them, while by giving him a more 
 thorough knowledge of his discourse, it enabled him 
 by alteration and addition, to render it more lucid, 
 pungent, or practical. 
 
 He was considered uncommonly able and acute in 
 argument, and as the colony rose from the weakness 
 of infancy, to the accession of strength and wealth, 
 his society was courted by men of learning and 
 taste. Yet he knew well how to simplify his style 
 to the humblest capacity, when circumstances re- 
 quired, and sometimes the untutored Indian wept 
 and trembled, at hearing from his lips the first sounds 
 of salvation. Thus he continued abundant in labor, 
 and faithful in doctrine, fourteen years, as colleague 
 with the Rev. Mr. Hooker, and sixteen after his 
 death. 
 
 The approach of the destroyer of his earthly ta- 
 bernacle occasioned no dismay. " Heaven," he said, 
 " is the more desirable, since such men as Hooker 
 and Shepherd have taken up their abode there." 
 On the 20th of July, 1663, he quietly fell asleep, 
 lamented and beloved. 
 
 He wrote much, but published few of his composi- 
 tions. Mention is made by the ecclesiastical histo-
 
 REV. SAMUEL STONE. 69 
 
 rians of that day, of an elaborate body of divinity 
 written by him, parts of which were sometimes 
 transcribed by candidates for the ministry, anxious 
 to enrich themselves from his treasures of theology. 
 Other works of his are alluded to, by cotemporary 
 divines. 
 
 A plain monument erected to his memory in the 
 burial place adjoining the Central Congregational 
 Church in Hartford, (Connecticut,) is still in a good 
 state of preservation, though the tempests of more 
 than 150 years have beaten against it ; and its epitaph 
 characterizes him in the quaint dialect of the age, as 
 
 "New England's glory and her radiant crown."
 
 BLAISE PASCAL 
 
 PASCAL, one of the greatest geniuses and finest 
 writers that France ever produced, was 
 
 1623. born at Clermont, in Auvergne, 1623. 
 His father quitted a lucrative and honora- 
 ble public office, that he might devote himself wholly 
 to the education of his son, who never had any 
 other instructor. Almost in infancy he gave proofs 
 of a very uncommon capacity, for he desired to 
 know the reason of everything, and if sufficient rea- 
 sons were not adduced would seek for better ; re- 
 fusing to yield his assent but to such as appeared 
 well grounded. His father, who mingled religious 
 instructions with his studies, feared that his peculiar 
 turn of mind would lead to scepticism, but he 
 evinced a deep reverence for the truths of Christi- 
 anity, and seemed to distinguish between those 
 things which were objects of faith, and those which 
 were subject to the reasoning powers. " Our free- 
 thinkers," said he, " are a sort of people who know 
 not the nature of faith, but are possessed with this 
 false principle, that human reason is above all 
 things." 
 
 He displayed in childhood such a strong predi- 
 lection for mathematics, that his father feared it 
 might retard his progress in the languages, and
 
 BLAISK PASCAL. 71 
 
 locked up all his books in that science. But he 
 would still muse upon geometrical proportions, and 
 was one day surprised at work, with charcoal upon 
 his chamber floor, and in the midst of figures. 
 " What are you doing ?" inquired his father. " I am 
 searching," said the boy, " for a demonstration ;" 
 which was found to be the 32d proposition of the 
 first book of Euclid. His father afterwards in- 
 dulged him in his mathematical pursuits, convinced 
 that it was impossible to divert his self-taught genius 
 from its favorite channel. 
 
 At 16, he wrote a treatise on conic sections, 
 .which was considered by the learned, as a mighty 
 effort of the human mind ; and at 1.9, invented a 
 highly celebrated arithmetical machine, and tried 
 many novel philosophical experiments on the Ter- 
 nicelliun tube. With his profound knowledge he 
 mingled an easy and agreeable address, great mod- 
 esty, and a native eloquence which was almost irre- 
 sistible. 
 
 When he reached his 24th year, he laid aside the 
 mathematical and philosophical studies in which he 
 had so eminently distinguished himself, and resolv- 
 ed to spend the remainder of his time in retirement, 
 and to devote his talents to the cause of piety and 
 virtue. He employed himself much in prayer, and in 
 reading the holy Scriptures, and in those exercises 
 found the greatest comfort and delight. He used to 
 say, " that the sacred Scriptures were not so much 
 adapted to the head an to the heart of man ; that 
 they were intelligible only to those who possessed 
 rectitude of heart, and to all others were obscure 
 and uninteresting." 
 
 His charity to the poor was remarkably exten-
 
 72 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 sive ; he gave alms even out of his own neces- 
 sary subsistence. Persons of distinction frequent- 
 ly visited him in his retirement, to consult him on 
 religious subjects, and while they revered his piety 
 and wisdom, they admired his humility and simplici- 
 ty. A striking picture of the mind of this good 
 man is contained in a few sentences which were 
 found among his papers after his decease. " I re- 
 spect poverty, because Jesus Christ respected it ; 
 I respect riches because they furnish the mean of 
 relieving the distressed. I do not return evil to 
 those who have done me an injury. I endeavor to 
 be sincere and faithful to all men, but I have a pe- 
 culiar tenderness towards those with whom God has 
 caused me to be intimately connected. Whether I 
 am alone or in company, I consider myself as in 
 the sight of God, who will judge my actions, and 
 to whom I consecrate them all. These are my 
 sentiments ; and I daily bless my Redeemer who 
 has impressed them on me ; and who by the opera- 
 tion of his grace has taken away the concupiscence, 
 pride, ambition, and misery, to which I was natu- 
 rally subject. I owe my deliverance to his power 
 and goodness, having nothing of myself but imbe- 
 cility and corruption." 
 
 Among his various literary works' he had project- 
 ed one against atheists and infidels, but before he 
 could digest the materials he had collected, he was 
 attacked by a lingering distemper, which eventually 
 terminated his life. From his youth he had been 
 much afflicted with sickness, and from the 19th year 
 of his age had never passed a day without pain. 
 But he' bore' all without a murmur, and even with 
 cheerfulness, and during his last illness his deport-
 
 BLA1SE PASCAL. 73 
 
 inent was at once astonishing, edifying, and con- 
 solatory to his friends. " I know," said he, " the dan- 
 gers of health, and the advantages of sickness. 
 When we are ill, we are exempt from many of the 
 passions which disturb our health ; we are without 
 ambition, without avarice, and in continual expecta- 
 tion of death. We have nothing to do bnt to sub- 
 mit, humbly, and peacefully. For this reason, all I 
 ask of God is to beseech him to grant me this fa- 
 vor." 
 
 He died in 1662, aged 39. His last words were 
 " May God never forsake me," and he departed 
 full of peace and hope. In a prayer, composed 
 near the close of his life, he says, " I pray not that 
 thou wouldst give me either health or sickness, life- 
 or death, but that thou wouldst dispose of ray health, 
 my sickness, my life and my death for thy glory,, 
 and for my own eternal welfare. Thou alone 
 knowest what is expedient for me, thou art my sove- 
 reign Master and Lord : guide and govern me at 
 thy pleasure." 
 
 The celebrated Bayle, speaking of this distin-> 
 guished person, says, " A hundred volumes of reli- 
 gious discourses are not of so much avail to con- 
 found the impious, as a simple account of the life 
 of Pascal. His humility and devotion mortify the 
 libertine more than if they were attacked by a doz- 
 en Missionaries : for they can no longer assert 
 that piety is confined to men of little minds, when 
 they behold the highest degree of it in a geometri- 
 cian of the first rank, a most acute metaphysician, 
 and one of the most penetrating minds that ever 
 existed." 
 
 6*
 
 THE COUNTESS OF SUFFOLK. 
 
 She was the second daughter of the Earl of Hol- 
 land, born in the year 1627, and married very 
 young, to Theophilus, Earl of Suffolk. 
 
 1627. Her powers of imagination, judgment 
 and memory, were extraordinary : in the 
 latter particular she was so happy, that she frequent- 
 ly committed to writing on Monday, the sermon 
 she heard the preceding Lord's day, and nearly in 
 the very words of the preacher. She had a remark- 
 able government of her passions, and it was ob- 
 served that she was unskilful in manifesting displeas- 
 ure, if the subject that excited it was of a temporal 
 nature ; but a profane or indecent expression would 
 lead her to reprove the offenders, if acquainted with 
 them ; if strangers, she would often show her dis- 
 gust by retiring. 
 
 She was frank and confiding in friendship, gentle 
 to her inferiors, and affable to all. She was willing 
 to make any sacrifice for those she esteemed, and 
 nothing was more distressing to her, than to be com- 
 pelled to doubt the merit of those who had once 
 possessed her good opinion. She was tender to 
 the errors of her servants, and, if virtuous and 
 faithful, treated them as humble friends. None 
 had a more correct estimation of relative duties, or
 
 THE COUNTESS OF SUFFOLK. 75 
 
 discharged them more faithfully. Her husband, 
 parents, kindred, friends, servants, neighbors all 
 were witnesses of this truth. 
 
 If these are but moral virtues, there was every 
 reason to believe that in her they flowed from a ren- 
 ovated heart. Hence her love and regard to the 
 truth, which in every situation of life, led her to 
 meet any danger and ridicule rather than violate in- 
 tegrity. Hence also her active benevolence, for 
 her soul seemed composed of Christian kindness 
 and compassion. The poor whom she knew, need- 
 ed not to come to her for aid ; she sent clothing, 
 food, medicine, and other comforts to their habita- 
 tions, and provided houses for those who had none. 
 She often visited them to acquaint herself more 
 particularly with their persons and wants ; and if 
 any intreated her charity when she was from home, 
 and happened to be unprovided, she would borrow 
 from her friends to supply them. 
 
 Her charity extended beyond their temporal 
 wants ; she endeavored to relieve and instruct their 
 minds, by admonishing the careless, and counsel- 
 ling the scrupulous ; at the same time ottering her 
 daily prayers on their behalf. She distributed her 
 bounty kindly, and without ostentation. The poor 
 and distressed, whom she had so often relieved, be- 
 wailed at her death, as for a lost parent, and long 
 after thankfully recognized her generosity. 
 
 In another species of charity, she was exempla- 
 ry that of forgiving injuries, which whether they 
 arose from mistake or malice, she was ever ready 
 to pardon and forget. Though her memory on oth- 
 er subjects was very tenacious, here she seemed 
 to have no recollection at all. Benefits and favors
 
 76 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 were never effaced from her mind ; but unkindness, 
 though it might for the time make a deep impression 
 upon her susceptible spirit, was never returned by 
 any similar act. 
 
 She possessed a strong faith in the merits of a 
 Redeemer, and a lively hope of immortality. Some- 
 times the tenderness of her conscience would awa- 
 ken fears, which she conquered by self-recollection 
 and humble prayer. In times of sorrow, faith and 
 patience were her support. When her only son 
 was in the agonies of death, she sat down almost 
 exhausted, having poured out many prayers and 
 tears. When she found that he had indeed gone, 
 she gave a momentary veot to grief, and then took 
 her Bible, and applied herself to the singing of 
 Psalms, till the violence of emotion had subsided, 
 and her soul was brought into tranquil submission 
 lo the will of God. 
 
 The lovely grace of humility was observable in 
 all her actions. It was like a robe covering her 
 from head to fool, through which her innumerable 
 excellences shone with an improved lustre. She 
 suffered none of the noble talents of her mind to 
 slumber in indolence. She remembered who had 
 given them, and who would require them again. 
 Every day was begun, and closed with prayer. As 
 soon as she awoke, she went into her closet, and 
 performed her customary devotions, reading at the 
 same time her portion in the Bible which consisted 
 of the psalms appointed for the day of the month, 
 and six chapters beside ; intending by this course to 
 read the Bible twice in a year. This method she 
 began at the age of 15, and continued regularly 
 till her death, and if any circumstance compelled
 
 THE COUNTE6S OF SUFFOLK. 77 
 
 her to shorten her usual portion, she proportionally 
 increased the number of chapters, at her next read- 
 ing season. 
 
 She was methodical, as well as diligent in im- 
 proving her time ; carefully allotting proper hours 
 to business, repasts and reading. In her daily 
 course of the Scriptures, she allowed a portion of 
 time to examine difficult passages by notes, and in- 
 terpreters. Many other books of divinity likewise 
 shared her attention, and administered to her in- 
 struction. She delighted much in the Sabbath, and 
 other seasons for devotion, especially in the prepa- 
 ration for the Sacrament. In this ordinance she 
 endeavored frequently to participate, and found it a 
 great assistance to her piety. She was very atten- 
 tive during preaching, and often repeated to her 
 family what she remembered of the sermons. 
 
 Like many true believers she was for a time sub- 
 ject to spiritual doubts, but it pleased God to deliver 
 her from them, and to grant her an increase of con- 
 fidence and comfort. Her whole life might be 
 styled a scene of preparation for death ; and appre- 
 hending its approach during an illness that afflicted 
 her, she entreated her friends to reveal her real con- 
 dition to her, without reserve. They confessed 
 that their hopes of her life were small, and that dis- 
 solution seemed gradually approaching. 
 
 At this she discovered neither terror or reluctance, 
 but sending for her near relatives and friends, with a 
 countenance solemn and serene took an affection- 
 ate leave of them. She gave them benedictions, 
 counsels and prayers, adapted to each, especially 
 her husband, children and sen ants, tending to di- 
 rect them in the way of well-doing, that so she
 
 78 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 might meet them again in glory. With such affec- 
 tion and zeal did she warn, and advise them, and 
 such assurances did she give them that she was go- 
 ing from pains and miseries to celestial rest, that the 
 remembrance of her words, and the image of her 
 serene aspect could never be effaced from their 
 minds. She seemed like Moses on Mount Pisgah, 
 or like Jacob on his last couch distributing bles- 
 sings. One who should have seen her dearest 
 friends and relatives full of tears and lamentations, 
 and herself unmoved, counselling, comforting, and 
 blessing them, would have been ready to think that 
 they were to die, and that she was giving them 
 Christian exhortation and comfort. Her confidence 
 in God, and her spiritual joy were such, that the an- 
 ticipation of death seemed to give her a taste of the 
 happiness of the life to come. 
 
 The legacy she left to her two dear children was, 
 her desire to their father, that whatever outward 
 provision he made for them, for which she was not 
 anxious, they might be educated in the strictest way 
 of religion : this she had found best for herself in 
 life ; and at death she recommended it to those 
 whom she most tenderly loved. Yet at'ter approach- 
 ing the confines of Death, looking him calmly in the 
 face, and tranquilly surveying all his terrors, it pleas- 
 ed the Almighty to bring her again from the pit of 
 darkness, and continue her in life, very unexpected- 
 ly, for six months longer. 
 
 This miracle, as it appeared, was an instance of 
 the greatest mercy to another, and it seemed that 
 she was restored, tor a great and necessary work. 
 Her lather, Earl Holland, was about this time ar- 
 raigned before the High Court erected by Parlia-
 
 THE COUNTESS OF SUFFOLK. 79 
 
 ment, and condemned to die. In this affliction he 
 received inexpressible comfort from his pious daugh- 
 ter, whom it seemed as if Providence had brought for 
 his sake from the brink of the grave. When all 
 hopes of his life were banished, she frequently 
 visited him in prison, and watched all night in a room 
 adjoining his, that she might be near him in the 
 morning. In conversing on religion, she propos- 
 ed such prudent and searching questions, so judi- 
 ciously applied both law and gospel, so gently wound- 
 ed, and then so kindly endeavored to heal, that be- 
 ing at length much comforted, he exclaimed, "Hap- 
 py am I, that I should receive from a child of my 
 own, such consolation." To a divine who visited 
 him, he said, " I thank God, that I have a child 
 who is able to be my counsellor in all my doubts." 
 
 The distressing stroke of his execution she bore 
 with much Christian patience, acknowledging it to 
 be the wise method of Almighty God, to bestow 
 mercy on a soul, which, had it been exempted from 
 s=o great a calamity, and still conversant with scenes 
 of prosperity and temptation, might never so ear- 
 nestly and humbly havo sought him. She declared, 
 that, thinking as she thought, she could not, even if 
 it were lawful, wish him alive again ; she dared not 
 desire for him so bad an exchange as to leave heav- 
 en for earth. Yet it was known by all, that her af- 
 fection for him had been uncommonly tender and 
 strong. 
 
 She told a friend, that now, if God would give 
 her leave, she would retire into the country, having, 
 as she said, so disposed her family and business, 
 that she had nothing to do, but to die. Those who 
 had opportunity to know, observed, that during the
 
 80 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 six months which succeeded her dangerous sickness 
 there was not a night in which she rose from her 
 closet devotions without an overflowing of tears. 
 And now her work being done, Death approached 
 to claim her corruptible part. A few days before 
 her departure, her intellect was affected ; but in one 
 of her lucid intervals, she poured out her soul in a 
 comprehensive prayer ; pleading before God, his 
 name, his attributes, his mercies, the mediation of 
 his Son, and his promises, which she drew from ev- 
 ery part of his word. 
 
 This seemed her last considerable interval of 
 reason, except that after her strength was spent, 
 she recognized her friends when they came to her, 
 signified her assurance of an interest in Christ, and 
 joined attentively in their prayers. About an hour 
 after, in a quiet sleep, she yielded her spirit to her 
 God, May 10th, 1649, in the 22d year of her age ; 
 most tenderly lamented by her friends, to whom she 
 had been inexpressibly dear and delightful. She 
 was early fitted for heaven, and early received to 
 the participation of celestial joys.
 
 THE COIT1VTESS OF WARWICK. 
 
 THIS lady was the daughter of Richard Boyle, the 
 first Earl of Cork, who began the world with little ex- 
 cept an unblemished character, and left at 
 
 1 630. his death an immense estate to his children. 
 He was originally a private gentleman, 
 the younger son of a younger brother, and had no 
 other patrimony than what was expressed in his 
 motto " God's providence is my inheritance." His 
 persevering exertions were crowned with a state of 
 opulence and honor, yet he still retained the motto 
 which he had adopted in his poverty, and caused to 
 be writen on his principal buildings and inscribed on 
 his tomb " God's providence is my inheritance." 
 One of his numerous sons was the philosopher, 
 Robert Boyle, a man equally distinguished by ge- 
 nius, learning and piety ; a bright ornament to re- 
 ligion, and to human nature. 
 
 The subject of these memoirs was a daughter, 
 who early in life became the consort of the Earl of 
 Warwick. The powers of her mind were strong, 
 and assisted by a regular and pious education ; but 
 though her conduct was circumspect and amiable, 
 she confessed that she knew nothing of the life and 
 power of religion in the heart, till after her arrival 
 at maturity. She acknowledged that she entered
 
 82 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 her husband's family, with erroneous ideas of reli- 
 gion, and strong prejudices against it ; but the true 
 devotion she saw there, the excellent preaching she 
 heard, and the amiable tenderness of her illustrious 
 father-in-law, were effectual in removing her dan- 
 gerous prepossessions. Afflictions, and occasional 
 retirement were also blessed to her, and served to 
 detach her thoughts from the follies and pleasures 
 of the world. 
 
 After this happy change in her sentiments and 
 feelings, she became remarkable for gravity, humility 
 and circumspection, and for a seraphic zeal to pro- 
 mote the interests of religion. It seemed the great 
 object of her life to show forth the praises of Him 
 who had called her from darkness into marvellous 
 light. She regularly kept a diary, in which she re- 
 corded the frame of her heart, remarkable providen- 
 ces towards herself and others, answers of prayer, 
 spiritual comforts, temptations prevailing or resisted, 
 and whatever else might be useful for caution or en- 
 couragement, humiliation or gratitude. 
 
 Prayer, she used to style " the ease of the heart," 
 and such it was to her. She was not only constant 
 in this duty, but so fervent, that when she used not 
 an audible voice, her sighs and groans were fre- 
 quently overheard from her closet. Prayer was the 
 element in which she lived and died ; the vital 
 breath of her soul which eventually wafted it to 
 heaven. She walked two hours every morning for 
 serious meditation, in which important duty she was 
 a great proficient; sometimes employing her thoughts 
 on particular subjects, at others extracting mental 
 improvement from accidental occurrences. Vol- 
 umes of this kind she left behind her in manuscript.
 
 THE COUNTESS OF WARWICK. 83 
 
 and the parts that have been published do equal 
 honor to her head and her heart. 
 
 She kept the Sabbath with exemplary strictness, 
 as the best preservative to the life of religion. She 
 was a devout communicant, and prepared for the re- 
 newal of her covenant with fasting and prayer. If 
 she had a particular interest in any whom she ap- 
 prehended destitute of religion, she would employ 
 the authority of friendship, and the persuasive pow- 
 ers of her own eloquence, to plead the cause of 
 their own eternal salvation. She studiously kept 
 herself disengaged from sects and parties, that 
 none might suspect her of a design to make pro- 
 selytes to any but to God. 
 
 That she might recommend piety to others, she 
 endeavored to make it appear in its most amiable 
 and alluring form. To an engaging deportment, 
 she added, the attractive charms of Christian meek- 
 ness, courtesy and benevolence. Her discourse 
 in company was both interesting and profitable, and 
 she evinced great dexterity in giving it an insensible 
 turn towards moral and serious subjects. She 
 took great care of the souls of her servants, and it 
 was her ambition to be the mistress of a religious 
 family. This appeared in exacting their attendance, 
 and reverent behaviour, at the public worship of 
 God, in personal instruction and familiar persua- 
 sion, in seriously endeavoring to prepare them for 
 the Sacrament and exhorting them to partake of it 
 frequently, in dispersing good books in all com- 
 mon rooms and places of attendance, that those in 
 waiting might have profitable employment, and in 
 making religion in her servants, the criterion of her 
 esteem. She treated them all as friends, but those 
 who most feared the Lord, were her favorites.
 
 84 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 Neither was she inattentive to their temporal 
 interests ; for she seemed to find as much satisfac- 
 tion in pleasing them, as the best servants have in 
 pleasing their superiors. She delighted to render 
 their lives easy, and free from discontent, that so 
 they might serve God with cheerfulness. She ex- 
 tended her generous care to the period in which 
 their earthly connection should be dissolved, and 
 left them legacies of 2, 3 and 400/. with the 
 wages of a full year, and permission to remain at 
 her house, three months, as in her life, that they 
 might have sufficient time to seek other commodi- 
 ous situations. 
 
 She spared no pains to accommodate her tenants, 
 and, if any of them sustained material losses, was 
 accustomed to deduct them from their rent. No 
 inconvenience could ever make her recede from 
 obligations into which she had entered, or even from 
 intimated promises, if she found the expectations 
 of others were excited by them. 
 
 With this sacred regard for truth, she coupled 
 the divine injunction, " speak evil of no man." 
 She would extenuate the failings of others, by bring- 
 ing into view the brighter parts of their character, 
 and where she could not commend, was silent. 
 
 To her parents she was a pattern of duty and 
 respect ; as a sister, inexpressibly tender and en- 
 dearing ; as a friend, affectionate, unsuspicious 
 and faithful. Her excellence as a mother, appear- 
 ed in the education of her son, a promising youth, 
 who died before her ; and in the instruction of three 
 young ladies, whom she adopted, and to whom she 
 was a mother in the best sense of the word. As a 
 wife, it may be truly said that " the heart of her
 
 THE COUNTESS OF WARWICK. 85 
 
 husband safely trusted in her, and she did him good, 
 and not evil, all the days of her life." She lived 
 under a constant and impressive sense of the cov- 
 enant of God which was between them ; mingling- 
 uncommon tenderness and affection with a conduct 
 uniformly complying. She concealed his infirmi- 
 ties, sympathized in his indispositions, and attended 
 him with the greatest kindness. Above all she 
 loved his soul ; fervently praying for him, and coun- 
 selling him with mingled zeal and prudence. 
 
 Among other testimonials of esteem and gratitude, 
 he gave her, by will, his whole estate, and left her 
 his sole executrix. This arduous task she discharg- 
 ed with such attention, prudence and accuracy, as 
 more than satisfied all who were concerned, and 
 this event she acknowledged, as a visible, and distin- 
 guishing mercy. During the life of Earl Warwick, 
 she had a stated yearly allowance, and anxiously 
 inquired of her minister, what portion of their sub- 
 stance he supposed people were bound to conse- 
 crate to the poor. On his suggesting a seventh 
 part, she immediately answered that she could not 
 think of less than a third ; and this proportion she 
 accordingly set apart for charitable uses. 
 
 The most pressing exigencies of a different kind 
 never induced her to infringe on this dedicated sum, 
 though she often borrowed from the remainder of 
 her property to increase it ; and anticipated her in- 
 comes rather than restrain her liberality. 
 
 When she came into possession of the large es- 
 tate bequeathed her by her husband, her manage- 
 ment of it confirmed the truth of the remark uttered 
 by a person of high eminence, " that the Earl of 
 Warwick had given all his estate to pious twes." 
 7*
 
 86 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 She seemed to have no satisfaction in great posses- 
 sions but that of doing extensive good ; and fre- 
 quently declared that she would not be incumbered 
 with the largest estate in England on any other con- 
 ditions. That her charity was judicious as well as 
 generous, appears from the objects on which she 
 bestowed it : 
 
 1. Persons, really in want, whom the remem- 
 brance of better days, or a native modesty and del- 
 icacy prevented from complaining of their necessi- 
 ties. Such she liberally relieved, without solicitation, 
 and with such gentleness and meekness as seemed 
 to express a desire to gain their pardon, rather than 
 deserve thanks. 
 
 2. Foreigners, who in those days of calamity 
 fled from their native country to preserve their per- 
 secuted religion. To these she evinced that she 
 honored the goodness of their cause, and found 
 pleasure in tenderly administering to their neces- 
 sities. 
 
 3. Scholars of promising dispositions and capa- 
 cities, but of slender resources, whom she educated 
 in great numbers at the universities, allowing them 
 at the same time an annual sum of 20 or 30/. as 
 she supposed their needs required. 
 
 4. Poor children ; whom, if she could persuade 
 to learn, she placed at school in neighboring towns, 
 not only paying for their instruction, but supplying 
 them with books and clothing. This noble charity 
 she exercised not only near home, but even the dis- 
 tant regions of Wales, shared liberally in her bounty. 
 
 5. Ministers of every denomination, whose liv- 
 ings were incompetent to support their families with 
 decency.
 
 THE COUNTESS OF WARWICK. 87 
 
 6. Occasional applicants of almost every cha- 
 racter ; and though sometimes deceived and abused 
 in such cases, she was not deterred from giving ; 
 often saying, " I would rather relieve ten who ap- 
 pear proper objects, and are not, than to let one in 
 real distress go unrelieved ; for if they deceive me 
 in giving, God will not deceive me in accepting what 
 is sincerely done for his name's sake. 
 
 7. The poor around her whom she knew. These 
 she fed in great numbers, not with fragments, but 
 with generous supplies purposely provided. She 
 supplied them with medicines, pesonally visited the 
 meanest of them, to converse with, to instruct, and 
 to comfort them. Her love and compassion for 
 them was unbounded. Twice a week she provided 
 bread and beef for the poor of four adjacent pa- 
 rishes ; and ordered in her will that the same bounty 
 should be continued after her death, and a hundred 
 pounds distributed to the poor of four other pa- 
 rishes. 
 
 This was the amiable, the noble, the exemplary 
 life of the Countess of Warwick. " Give her of 
 the fruits of her hands, and let her own works praise 
 her in the gates." From a passage in her diary, 
 written the last Lord's day of her health, it appears 
 that she had some impressions of her approaching 
 dissolution. The Tuesday following she was seized 
 with an indisposition from which she never recovered. 
 She discoursed with great cheerfulness ; and the 
 last sentence she was heard to utter, was to some 
 friends who surrounded her, as she drew the curtains 
 of her bed " If I were but one hour in heaven, I 
 would not be again with you, as much as I love 
 you." Soon after, having proposed prayer, she,
 
 88 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 almost as soon as it was begun, heaved a sigh as 
 she sat in her chair, turned pale, and immediately 
 expired ; according to her own often repeated re- 
 quest " that if she might choose the manner and 
 circumstances of her death, she would die pray- 
 ing." 
 
 " A soul prcpar'd needs no delays, 
 The summons comes, the saint obeys ; 
 Swift was her flight, and short the road, 
 She clos'd her eyes, and saw her God."
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 
 
 PHILIP HENRY was born at Whitehall, (West- 
 minster) on Wednesday, August 24th, 1631. His 
 
 father had the office of keeper of the 
 1631. Orchard, and attendant upon the king's 
 
 second son, James Duke of York. He 
 was very sincere in his attachment to the unfortu- 
 nate Charles First, and a deep mourner for his un- 
 timely death. A little anecdote is recorded, illus- 
 trative of his constant and fearless affection. The 
 imprisoned monarch, insulted and despised, going 
 under guard to his trial at Westminster, passed the 
 door of this faithful attendant, who was eager to 
 present him his affectionate respects, and in spite of 
 the menaces of the guard prayed fervently that 
 ' God would bless his Majesty." This must have 
 been soothing to the heart of him who suffered ma- 
 ny insults, " on whose visage every eye did scowl, 
 and no tongue cried, God save him." 
 
 The mother of the subject of these memoirs, was 
 of the family of Rochdales, in Westminster. She 
 was a woman of great virtue and piety, though her 
 lot was cast among the vanities and temptations of 
 a court. She was careful to instruct her children in
 
 90 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 the precepts and practice of religion, catechised 
 them, and not satisfied with praying for them v daily 
 prayed with them. Observing in this her only son, 
 early inclinations to learning and piety, she solemn- 
 ly devoted him in his tender years to the service of 
 God in the work of the ministry. To the close of 
 his life he was accustomed to express peculiar grat- 
 itude to Heaven for the benefit of such a parent, 
 who poured pious instruction upon his unformed 
 mind, and unceasingly solicited for him the dews of 
 divine grace. After some time spent in the study 
 of the languages, he was received into Westminster 
 school in the fourth form ; then into the upper school 
 under the celebrated Dr. Busby ; then to the honor 
 of King's Scholar. 
 
 At his mother's request he was permitted to at- 
 tend a daily lecture, established by seven pious min- 
 isters of the assembly of Divines. This, which he 
 attended without any abatement of his school exer- 
 cises, was the instrument of much good to his 
 young mind. At the age of eleven years he began 
 the practice of writing what he could recollect from 
 the Sermons he heard, continued it until the decay 
 of his sight, a little previous to his death, and recom- 
 mended it to others, as a method of fixing the atten- 
 tion, strengthening the memory, and assisting seri- 
 ous meditation. 
 
 But while he was prosecuting his studies with 
 diligence and success, the all-wise Providence of 
 God was preparing to write him an orphan. His 
 mother lay upon the couch of languishing, and in 
 the midst of her sufferings was heard to exclaim 
 " my head is in heaven ; my heart is in heaven : 
 one step more, and I shall be there also." On the
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 91 
 
 6th of March, 1645, she departed ; and to her chil- 
 dren was fulfilled what the strong faith of the Psalm- 
 ist once affirmed, " when my father and my mother 
 forsake me, then the Lord will take me up." 
 
 Two years after, Philip Henry, in the sixteenth 
 year of his age, publicly gave himself up to God, 
 and joined in covenant with his people. On this 
 solemn occasion he writes " there had been trea- 
 ties before, between my soul and Jesus Christ ; but 
 then confessing my sins, casting away all rny trans- 
 gressions, receiving him as my righteousness, dedi- 
 cating myself absolutely and unreservedly to his fear 
 and service, and then coming to this ordinance, there 
 I received him indeed, and he became mine : / 
 aay mine." He mentions with gratitude, Dr. Bus- 
 by's careful attention for some time previous in ex- 
 plaining the nature of the ordinance, exciting to se- 
 rious preparation, and appointing religious exercises, 
 instead of the customary scholastic ones, " for 
 which," writes the young communicant, " the Lord 
 recompense a thousand fold into his bosom." 
 
 In December, 1647, he was entered a student at 
 Christ's College, Oxford, and addressed himself 
 vigorously to its peculiar studies. He was on a 
 visit at London, when Charles First was beheaded, 
 and with a mournful, heart witnessed that tragical 
 scene. He noticed that at the instant the fatal blow 
 was struck, such a dismal and universal groan arose 
 from the thousands surrounding the scaffold, as he 
 never before heard, and had not power to describe : 
 and that immediately the soldiers came marching in 
 separate bodies, according to previous orders, to 
 disperse the people, and to scatter their distressing 
 thoughts by forcing them to seek their own safety.
 
 92 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 He returned, and resumed his University studies, 
 and was favored with many advantages, for obtain* 
 ing both classical and religious instruction. 
 
 Some of his contemporary students used to asso- 
 ciate for the purposes of prayer, and religious con- 
 ference, which were blest to their preparation for the 
 future duties of the ministry. He received his de- 
 grees of Bachelor, and Master of Arts, and answer- 
 ed the Latin philosophical questions with great ap- 
 plause. A copy of Latin verses of his, is printed 
 among the Oxford university poems, which confer 
 on him that reputation as a poet which he had before 
 gained as an orator. Soon after taking his degree 
 of Master of Arts he preached his first sermon from 
 John viii. 34. " Whosoever committeth sin is the 
 servant of sin," and the Christian hearers rejoiced 
 that he could so willingly lay aside the enticing 
 words of man's wisdom for the purity and simplicity 
 of the gospel. Yet notwithstanding his diligence, 
 his attainments and reputation, humility led him to 
 perceive and lament lost time and neglected oppor- 
 tunities, and in one of his visits to the place of his 
 education, he inserts in his diary, " a tear dropt 
 over my university sins." 
 
 At leaving Oxford he was requested to preach 
 as a candidate in the church of Worthenburg, and 
 to officiate as chaplain and private tutor in the family 
 of Judge Puleston, the most pious and influential 
 man in those parts. His constant exertions in this 
 new sphere of usefulness, his amiable and exem- 
 plary conduct, so gained him the friendship of his 
 patron, that he confirmed to him the lease of a 
 house erected purposely for him, and the sum of 
 100/. a year while he should continue the minister
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 93 
 
 of Worthenburg. On the 16th of Sept 1657, 
 he was publicly ordained in the parish church, and 
 entered on the work of his ministry. 
 
 The sphere was narrow and confined for such a 
 burning and shining light, the number of commu- 
 nicants was only 41, and the congregation princi- 
 pally composed of poor tenants and laborers, but 
 the souls of such, he would say, " were precious in 
 the sight of God," and he carefully and affection- 
 ately performed his duty towards them, refusing the 
 offers that were made him, which might have flatter- 
 ed his ambition and promoted his secular interest. 
 
 In labors he was abundant : beside preaching, 
 he expounded the Scriptures in order, catechised 
 and explained the Catechism, receiving into the 
 number of his Catechumen?, adults as well as chil- 
 dren, because he perceived that they needed instruc- 
 tion. He established a monthly lecture of two ser- 
 mons ; and a conference, where he encouraged famil- 
 iar discourse of spriritual things, that he might better 
 understand the state of his flock, and adapt his ser- 
 mons and prayers to their individual cases. He 
 was very diligent in visiting the sick, instructing 
 them, and praying with them ; and in this service 
 said, " he aimed at the good, not only of those 
 who were sick, but also of the relations and 
 friends that were about them." He preached fune- 
 ral sermons for all who were buried there, of what- 
 ever rank or age, for he considered it a time to scat- 
 ter the good seed of the word, when Providence 
 had softened the heart for its reception. In his 
 preaching and administration of ordinances, he was 
 plain and affectionate, laying aside his great learu- 
 8
 
 94 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ing, that he might suit the capacities of the unlearn- 
 ed, and win souls to Christ. 
 
 His diary records the affections and emotions of 
 his soul, whether in his study, closet or pulpit, for 
 he kept his heart with all diligence. " For three 
 things he was remarkable," says a writer of those 
 times ; " great piety and devotion, and much savor 
 of them in his conversation ; great industry in the 
 pursuit of useful knowledge ; great self-denial and 
 eminent humility, which cast a lustre upon his other 
 graces : and though like all zealous servants of 
 Jesus Christ he was not without opposers, yet the 
 vox populi fastened upon him the epithet of Heav- 
 enly Henry. 
 
 He would receive no compensation for any min- 
 isterial services, except his stated salary, which he 
 had agreed to accept of the Puleston family in lieu 
 of the usual tithe : yet of his little portion he con- 
 stantly laid by a tenth part for the poor, adopting 
 the words of Daniel, " of thine own, Lord, have 
 we given thee." 
 
 After finding him so faithful in the concerns of oth- 
 ers, entrusted to his care, let us view him in the man- 
 agement of his own ; in his house and his family, 
 for there the hearts of men are most successfully 
 developed. He selected as a partner for life, Cath- 
 arine, the only child of Mr. Daniel Matthews of 
 Broad Oak, and on the 26th of April, 1660, entered 
 into the holy bonds of matrimony. In this design 
 he had carefully sought the direction of God in 
 prayer, fearing without his guidance, to take a step 
 which might materially influence his temporal and 
 eternal happiness. The day previous to his mar- 
 riage, he devoted to secret prayer and fasting, and
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRV. 95 
 
 God was pleased to bless an union so religiously be- 
 gun. His diary often records his great satisfaction in 
 this choice, and his fervent thanks to the Almighty 
 who had given him " an helper and a Comforter!" 
 
 He was now found exemplary in family religion, 
 and would often say, "we are really what we 
 are relatively ; it is not so much what we are at 
 church, as what we are in our families." He be- 
 lieved the secret duties of the closet to have a great 
 effect upon the conduct of life, and was very faithful 
 in their performance. Merely upon the occasion 
 of removing his closet from one room to another, 
 he records this request in his daily journal : " This 
 day my new closet was consecrated by prayer ; and 
 may all the prayers that shall ever be made in it, 
 according to the will of God, morning, evening, and 
 at noon, ordinary or extraordinary, be accepted of 
 him, and obtain a gracious answer." Beside se- 
 cret prayer, he and his consort constantly prayed 
 together, morning and evening, without a single 
 omission when they were together, either at home 
 or abroad. This he would recommend to others, 
 from his own experience of its benefit, adding that 
 those who were thus united were bound to do all 
 in their power to help each other to heaven, and 
 that they were thus excited to " live together as 
 heirs of the grace of life, that their prayers be not 
 hindered." 
 
 When abroad or on journeys he accidentally 
 lodged with his friends, he constantly reminded 
 them, that " those who sleep together, should pray 
 together," and in this performance of duty was 
 usually short but often much affected. Many to 
 whom he gave this advice and example, have bles-
 
 96 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 sed God for him, and for his instructions. Family 
 worship in all its parts he performed conscientious- 
 ly from the day he was first called to the charge of 
 a house, till the day of his release from earth. 
 He attended it early in the morning, before the in- 
 trusion and hurry of worldly concerns, and also 
 early in the evening before the children and servants 
 retired. He would tell those who complained they 
 could not find time for it, that if they would arm 
 themselves with Christian resolution, other difficulties 
 would vanish, that it was a great preserver of order 
 and decency in a family, and would bring a blessing 
 upon them, and their possessions. 
 
 He was desirous that all under his roof should 
 join with him, not only strangers and visitors, but 
 workmen and day-laborers. His first exercise was 
 a short but solemn prayer, imploring the divine pre- 
 sence and blessing upon this his reasonable service, 
 then the singing of a psalm, in which the whole 
 family joined, then the reading and explanation of a 
 portion of Scripture, of which his children were re- 
 quired to give him an account, and afterwards to 
 write, as a method of exciting their attention, 
 strengthening their memories, and storing their minds 
 with good things. Then followed his prayer in the 
 midst of his kneeling family, his thanksgiving for 
 their mercies, his confession of their sins, his inter- 
 cession for needful blessings. He observed the 
 custom of Job, who " offered burnt offerings for his 
 children according to the number of them all," so 
 he would often present a petition for each child, and 
 always on the return of their respective birth days, 
 would return thanks for them as a gift, and request 
 renewed favors for them. For every servant, and
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 97 
 
 sojourner who entered or left the family, he would 
 address a separate petition suited to their circum- 
 stances. 
 
 He was daily mindful of all who desired his 
 prayers, and very careful to notice particular provi- 
 dences ; concluding his morning and evening wor- 
 ship, with a doxology and solemn benediction. Im- 
 mediately after the service, his children together, 
 with bended knee, came to entreat a blessing of 
 him and their mother, and to desire them to pray 
 to God to bless them. Their blessing was given 
 with great solemnity and affection, always remem- 
 bering any of them who might be absent " The 
 Lord bless you, and your brother, (or you and your 
 sister) who is absent Thus did he daily bless his 
 household, and with such fervor, such affection, 
 such variety of service, that none said, what a wea- 
 riness is it ; his family viewed it not as a task but 
 a pleasure, and those accidentally present were 
 constrained to say, " behold, how good and how 
 pleasant it is for brethren so to dwell together in 
 unity." 
 
 On Sabbath evenings he was usually more full 
 in prayer, soliciting a blessing upon the churches, 
 and the outpouring of the Spirit universally, and 
 was often observed to be absorbed in the work, as 
 if he found the service its own reward, or (as it 
 were,) dwelt for a time, like Moses, in the mount 
 with God. On that day, he constantly sung a 
 psalm after dinner, and after supper, beside those in 
 the stated service, and in the evening examined his 
 children and servants, in the sense and meaning of 
 their Catechism, and heard them repeat what they 
 could recollect of the sermons of the day. 
 8*
 
 98 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 On Thursday evenings, he catechised them, ex- 
 amined them in their knowledge of the useful books 
 they had read, and of their acquaintance with the 
 Scriptures. On Saturday evenings they rendered 
 him an account of the several chapters they had 
 heard him read and explain during the week. This 
 he called gathering up the fragments that nothing 
 might be lost ; and would sometimes say affection- 
 ately in the words of Christ to his disciples, " have 
 ye understood all these things '<" and if not, he 
 would explain them more fully, managing the 
 whole exercise with so much prudence and sweet- 
 ness, that with the knowledge of the Scriptures he 
 instilled the love of them also. 
 
 Thus was he the prophet and the priest of his 
 own house, and he was a king there likewise, ruling 
 in the wisdom and fear of God, and not suffering 
 even the " appearance of evil." He had once a 
 servant who was overtaken with intemperance 
 abroad, for which the next morning at family wor- 
 ship, he solemnly reproved him, admonished him, 
 prayed for him with a spirit of meekness, and soon 
 after dismissed him. But many of his servants, by 
 the influence of Heaven upon his endeavors, receiv- 
 ed abiding religious impressions, and blessed God 
 that they ever came under his roof. Few went 
 from his service till they were called to families of 
 their own, and many who had buried their yoke- 
 fellows, returned again to his service, saying, " Mas- 
 ter, it is good for us to be here." 
 
 His children, for God had given him four 
 daughters and two sons, he brought up with un- 
 speakable care and tenderness, being watchful 
 never " to provoke them to wrath, or to discourage
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 99 
 
 them, but to hold them in the nurture and admoni- 
 tion of the Lord." He indeed preserved his au- 
 thority, but it was with wisdom and love, and not 
 with an high hand, always allowing them freedom 
 of discourse with him, that he might find the ave- 
 nue to their hearts, and enter, bearing precious seed. 
 He was their constant instructor, taught them all to 
 write himself, and made them early record the 
 memory of sermons, and other useful extracts. 
 He taught his eldest daughter the Hebrew tongue, 
 at the age of 6 or 7 years, by a Grammar which he 
 compiled for her, and she made such proficiency as 
 to be able readily to read and construe a Hebrew 
 Psalm. He sometimes employed them to write 
 from the Scriptures whatever appeared to them 
 forcible or impressive, and gave each of them a 
 book to record what they thought remarkable in the 
 volumes he selected for them to peruse. 
 
 He not only taught his children to pray by his 
 own example, but appointed them a part of every 
 Saturday afternoon, to spend together, or with those 
 of their age who might occasionally be there, in 
 reading good books, singing and prayer, sometimes 
 telling them for their encouragement, that the God 
 whom they addressed, understood broken language ; 
 and that if they offered the best they were able, in 
 the sincerity of their hearts, they would not only be 
 accepted, but taught to do better, " for unto him 
 that hath (and useth what he hath) more shall be 
 given." For their use he drew up the following 
 concise covenant : " I take God the Father to be 
 my chief end and highest good. I take God the 
 Son to be my Prince and Saviour. I take God tho 
 Holy Ghost to be my Sanctitier, Teacher, Guide
 
 100 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 and Comforter. I take the word of God to be the 
 rule of all my actions. I take the people of God 
 to be my people in all conditions. I do likewise 
 devote and dedicate unto the Lord, my whole self, 
 all I am, all I have, all I can do. And this I do, de- 
 liberately, sincerely, freely, forever." 
 
 Thus each of his children solemnly repeated to 
 him every Sabbath evening, and he labored to give 
 them an understanding of it, and to persuade them 
 to consent to it, not with the lips only, but with the 
 heart. When they arrived at years of discretion, 
 each of them transcribed and very solemnly signed 
 it, which he told them he would keep, and produce 
 as a testimony against them, if they should depart 
 from God, and despise his service. In reasoning 
 with them of their spiritual state he would press 
 upon their minds the circumstance of infant baptism, 
 that they were dedicated to God, and bound to be 
 his servants. " I am thy servant, and the son of 
 thine handmaid." This he would illustrate by the 
 comparison of taking a lease of a fair estate for a 
 child in the cradle, who without capability of con- 
 senting to the act, hath still a maintenance out of 
 it, and an interest in it, with power to reject or con- 
 firm the instrument when arrived at years of matu- 
 rity. " Now, children, our great Landlord was 
 willing that your lives should be put into the lease 
 of heaven and happiness, and it was done accord- 
 ingly by your baptism, which is the seal of righteous- 
 ness by faith ; and by that it was assured to you, 
 that if you would pay the rent and do the service, 
 that is, live a life of faith, repentance and sincere 
 obedience, you shall never be cast oft'; but if you 
 dislike the terms and refuse to pay the rent, for-
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 101 
 
 fcit now the lease." Thus would he make plain to 
 them the nature of this ordinance, and would some- 
 times say to his friends " if infant baptism were 
 more improved, it would be less disputed." 
 
 At the age of 16 his children approached the 
 ordinance oi the Lord's Supper, and made that 
 solemn covenant their own act and deed. Very 
 great care he took to prepare them for that solemn 
 event, and was repaid by their exemplary and pious 
 conduct, and his labors in their education were so 
 rendered effectual by the blessing of God, that they 
 gave him inexpressible comfort, and when they were 
 placed in families of their own, they walked in the 
 steps of their teacher, as he also followed Christ. 
 " Verily, he had no greater joy than to see his chil- 
 dren walking in truth." 
 
 Five of his children arrived at years of maturity, 
 and were judiciously and happily disposed of in the 
 world, when he was summoned to quit it, but his 
 eldest son, a child of good parts, and most sweet 
 disposition, died of the measles, at the age of six 
 years. He has left this short memorial of him, 
 " Praeterque aetatern nil puerile fuit." This was 
 a great affliction to the affectionate parents, and Mr. 
 Henry writes in his diary, " Lord, shew me where- 
 fore thou contendest with me. Have I over boast- 
 ed, over loved ? That child had been always very 
 patient under rebukes, the remembrance of which 
 teacheth me how to behave under the rebukes of my 
 heavenly father. I have laid him in the cold earth : 
 I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." 
 Many years after he writes, " This day fourteen 
 years, the Lord took my first born son from me, 
 the beginning of my strength, with a stroke. In
 
 102 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 memory whereof my heart melted this evening. 
 1 bless the Lord that hath spared the rest, I entreat- 
 ed mercy for every one of them, absolutely and un- 
 reservedly dedicating them, myself, my whole self, 
 estate, interest, life, to the will of Him, from whom 
 I received all. Father, hallowed be thy name*" 
 
 When his only surviving son had attained his 
 tenth year, he was seized with a lingering fever, and 
 so reduced, that his life was despaired of, and death 
 daily expected. The afflicted father, watching the 
 agonies of a promising and beloved child, was 
 sent for to preach at a considerable distance, and felt 
 it his duty to leave him, though perhaps he should 
 see him alive no more on earth. He left his house 
 very sad in spirit, performed the work that was as- 
 signed him, returned, and his son still lived. " At 
 such a place and time upon the road," said he, 
 " I did most solemnly, freely and deliberately, re- 
 sign my dear child to God, to do what he pleased 
 with him and me." " And I believe, sir, (said an 
 aged and pious friend who came to assist in their 
 time of affliction) I believe, at that place and time, 
 God gave him back to you again," for from that 
 period he speedily and almost miraculously recover- 
 ed. His eldest sister writes, " I was then a child 
 of eight years, and could think but as a child, 
 yet this discourse very much affected me, and 
 tended to endear my brother more to me, who I 
 believed was -given back to us in an extraordinary 
 manner." 
 
 This worthy man had many times and measures 
 of affliction, being heir to the promise that " all 
 who would live godly in Christ Jesus shall sutler 
 tribulation." Upon the death of Judge Puleston
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 103 
 
 and his lady, the rest of the family, not realizing 
 the value of a godly minister, and " loving this 
 present world," withheld his annuity and ejected 
 him from his office without alleging any fault, ex- 
 cept his not reading or using the Book of Common 
 Prayer. A servant of Mr. Puleston gave public 
 notice to the church that he was to be dismissed, 
 and the same day he preached his farewell dis- 
 course from Philippians i. 27. " Only let your con- 
 versation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ." 
 Soon after he retired to his wife's paternal estate 
 in Broad Oak, and though he ceased to preach to 
 this people he continued to love and pray for them, 
 still feeling as if a kind of relation subsisted be- 
 tween them. 
 
 On St. Bartholomew's day, 1662, he with a great 
 number of zealous, faithful ministers, was silenced 
 for not acceding to the act of uniformity. This was 
 his greatest affliction, to be debarred from his work, 
 which he considered as his honor and delight. In 
 the midst of his days and usefulness, in his glory and 
 prime, he was cast aside as a " despised broken ves- 
 sel in which there was no pleasure." The next 
 year he was imprisoned upon a false accusation of 
 plotting against government ; but nothing being 
 proved he was released, and returned to his house 
 with thanksgivings to God, and a fervent prayer that 
 he would forgive his enemies. He was a second 
 time imprisoned, for meeting with a few friends to 
 pray and seek the mercy of God, at the time the 
 plague raged with great fury at London. 
 
 The Five Mile Act then commenced, by whic-h 
 every non-conformist minister was sentenced to six 
 months' imprisonment, if they approached within
 
 104 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 five miles of any town or corporation where they had 
 formerly preached. Broad Oak was but four reput- 
 ed miles from Worthenburg, so he was compelled 
 to part from his beloved family, and afterwards re- 
 moved them also for a time, till the fury of the per- 
 secution turned away. In many other afflictions 
 and losses he participated with his injured brethren, 
 who were cut off from all means of support, and 
 " had no certain abiding place," while their suffer- 
 ings were the subjects of merriment in the luxurious 
 and abandoned court of the Second Charles. Yet 
 he sustained his troubles with the temper of a Chris- 
 tian, sorrowing most of all that he could not be 
 about his master's business. In his private capacity 
 he exerted himself to do good, in charity and hospi- 
 tality he was exemplary, and if he was not permitted 
 to preach, none could hinder his " prayers to the 
 God of his life." 
 
 But to recount his particular sufferings in the 
 cause of the gospel, would exceed my prescribed 
 limits ; they were rendered remarkable by the resig- 
 nation and deep feeling with which he sustained 
 them, his prayers for his enemies, and his affection 
 for the government which persecuted him and his 
 brethren. But after the accession of James, a 
 shadow of liberty was held out to the dissenters : 
 they beheld \i, and rejoiced with trembling. They 
 were at first permitted to preach in their own houses, 
 and soon after, Mr. Henry, at the earnest request 
 of the people of Broad Oak, prepared one of his 
 own buildings for a church, and officiated there as 
 minister until the time of his death. 
 
 As if regret at the loss of so much time, or a 
 presentiment of approaching death, stimulated liis
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 105 
 
 exertions, ho was observed to disregard himself and 
 his own ease, and to give his time and strength to 
 the work of the gospel. In the stated duties of the 
 Sabbath, lectures on week days, catechising, visit- 
 ing the sick, preaching in neighboring places, he 
 was active as in the days of youth and strength. 
 The national fasts, which were frequently appointed, 
 he observed with great solemnity, and from nine in 
 the morning till four in the afternoon never left the 
 pulpit, but spent the whole time in its various exer- 
 cises ; and it was noticed by his hearers that he 
 grew more lively and engaged towards the close of 
 the day, as if the spirit received greater supplies of 
 strength, when his frame was weary and exhausted. 
 All these laborious performances, in which he con- 
 tinued nine years, till his death, were without the 
 least profit or compensation, for he sought no per- 
 ishable riches, and was willing to spend and be 
 spent for Christ. At his own expense he distributed 
 the word of life, and without doubt has now obtained 
 a durable reward. 
 
 About the year 1687, in the course of a few 
 months he performed the ceremony of marriage for 
 all his children, much to his satisfaction and com- 
 fort. He preached a wedding sermon for each, 
 and when the last of them loft his house, writes thus 
 in his diary. " We have sent hor away, not as 
 Laban said he would have sent his daughters away, 
 with mirth, and with songs, with tabret, and with 
 harp, but with prayers, and tears, and .sincere good 
 wishes. And now we are alone as at the beginning ; 
 < i od enable us to finish well : the Lord be bettor 
 unto us than many children." 
 
 I (is letters to them now breathed the affection of 
 9
 
 106 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 a parent, and the spirit of a counsellor, and some of 
 them preserved in an account of his life, shew that 
 while his chief desire was to have them approved of 
 God, he participated in all their joys, and in all their 
 afflictions was afflicted. They were ever on his 
 heart in his prayers and intercessions ; in his family 
 devotions he offered " offerings and petitions accor- 
 ding to the number and situation of them all," and 
 would sometimes say, " Can the children of so 
 many prayers be abandoned ?" Their remarkable 
 unity and love gave him great satisfaction, and when 
 he perceived that their transplantation into separate 
 families, had rather increased and confirmed it, he 
 gave fervent thanks to the God of all consolation, 
 and in his last will and testament inserted this peti- 
 tion : " That the Lord would build them up in holi- 
 ness, and continue them still in brotherly love, as a 
 bundle of arrows that cannot be broken." 
 
 His house was scarcely emptied of his own chil- 
 dren, when it was filled with those of his friends, 
 who were desirous that their families should enjoy 
 the benefit of his example and prayers. Many who 
 had completed their university education came to 
 pass some time under his care previous lo their 
 entrance upon the ministry. To such he would 
 say, with his usual humility, "you come to me as 
 Naaman did to Elisha, expecting that I should do 
 this and that great thing for you, when alas ! I can 
 only say as he did, Go ivash in Jordan, Go study the 
 Scriptures." 
 
 His constitution was naturally delicate, yet by 
 strict temperance, and regularity in diet and exer- 
 cise he retained health and strength for incredible 
 exertion. He was about the middle stature, and his
 
 REV. PHILIP HENRY. 107 
 
 countenance expressed a gravity and sweetness 
 almost angelic ; yet when his parishioners earnest- 
 ly desired to have his portrait taken that they might 
 look upon it when he was no more, he would an- 
 swer affectionately " not so : the best picture of a 
 minister is in the hearts of his people." He 
 had always accustomed himself to the medita- 
 tion of death, that its actual appearance might not 
 overwhelm him with terror. No presage no warn- 
 ing, announced its approach : on the morning of 
 his departure, he arose in vigorous health, and be- 
 gan his. family service. In his exposition he was 
 animated and copious, but in his prayer not so 
 much so as usual, for while in this duty, he was 
 taken with a sudden weakness, and received the 
 sentence of death in himself. " Happy is that ser- 
 vant, whom his Lord when he cometh shall find 
 so doing." 
 
 Immediately after prayer he retired to his 
 chamber, without mentioning his illness, and was 
 found in great extremity of pain, which no remedy 
 could relieve. His son was sent for, and at his 
 entrance he said, " O Son, you are welcome to 
 a dying father ; I am now ready to be offered up, 
 and the time of my departure is at hand." To his 
 neighbors he said, " make sure work for your souls, 
 get an interest in Christ while you are in health, for 
 if I had that to do now, what would become of me ? 
 but I bless God I am satisfied." The agonies of 
 death increased upon him, but he continued in 
 prayer, committing his soul to God. At ten at 
 night his pulse and his sight failed. This he no- 
 ticed, took an affectionate leave of his son, and con- 
 sort, giving her " a thousand thanks for her care
 
 108 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 and tenderness," left a blessing for his children 
 and their little ones, called anew upon God his Sal- 
 vation, and quietly resigned his soul unto him at one 
 o'clock on the morning of June 24th, in the 65th 
 year of his age. He died after an illness of 1 6 
 hours, and his last words upon earth were " O 
 death, where is thy sting ?" It pleased God that this 
 servant, so eminent for prayer, should obtain his re- 
 peated request " never to outlive his usefulness ;" 
 it pleased him also that in the act of prayer he 
 should pass from this mutable state, to an haven of 
 everlasting rest.
 
 KKV. MATTHEW HEN.lt Y. 
 
 MATTHEW HENRY, the son of Philip Henry, 
 was born at Broad Oak, October. 28, 
 1662. 1662. In his infancy and childhood, he 
 was peculiarly subject to the evils of a 
 delicate constitution ; but these neither hindered his 
 capacity, or inclination for learning. At three years 
 of age, he was able to read properly, and with some 
 observation of what he read ; and it is remarked 
 by a companion of his younger days, that he very 
 early put away childish things. His temper was 
 grille and submissive, and however astonishing it 
 may appear at the present day, it is confirmed by 
 unquestionable authority, that no angry or unkind 
 word ever passed between his sisters and himself, 
 the whole time of their continuance in their father's 
 house. He was observed to be fond of preaching, 
 and so much affected by it as to retire to his cham- 
 ber to weep and pray, and scarcely to be prevailed 
 upon to come down and dine on the Lord's day, 
 lest he should lose the forcible impression. 
 
 In his tenth year he was supposed to be the 
 subject of genuine conversion, and ever after con- 
 sidered himself as dedicated to God. Papers of 
 considerable length are preserved, written in his 
 thirteenth year, entitled " Spiritual and Temporal 
 Mercies and Deliverances," in which with sin un- 
 9*
 
 110 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 derstanding far beyond his years, he notices several 
 interpositions of Providence, in behalf of his family 
 and himself, and particularly gives thanks " for good 
 instructions, for good parents, for the means of 
 grace, for prayer, for succor and help under temp- 
 tation, for brokenness of heart, for an enlightening." 
 
 In 1680, he went to London to complete his edu- 
 cation, and was there noticed for proficiency in 
 study, cheerfulness and frankness of disposition, 
 and a talent at introducing religious subjects in 
 common discourse. During his absence, he sel- 
 dom failed to write twice a week to his father, 
 making him the confidant of his temporal and spirit- 
 ual concerns, and his letters to him and other friends 
 breathe that spirit of piety, which had effectually 
 preserved him from the temptations and vanities of 
 youth. The silence and hardships imposed upon 
 dissenting ministers, prevented many from educat- 
 ing their sons to that profession, and by the advice 
 of influential friends, he was sent with several com- 
 panions to prosecute the study of law. He was 
 noticed as one likely to be eminent in that profes- 
 sion, as he possessed a quick apprehension, cor- 
 rect judgment, retentive memory, and remarka- 
 ble fluency of expression. 
 
 But his desire was to the work of the ministry, 
 notwithstanding the darkness of the times, for he 
 " esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches than 
 the treasures of Egypt." He promoted social 
 prayer and religious conference among the young 
 practitioners, frequently expounded the Scripture to 
 them, and at his departure bade them farewell in an 
 affectionate discourse from 2d Thess. " By the 
 coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, and our gathering
 
 REV. MATTHEW HENRY. Ill 
 
 together to him." Liberty, or occasional liberty of 
 preaching, began to be allowed to dissenters, and he 
 irnmediately commenced preaching as a candidate 
 for the ministry. Success attended his first attempts, 
 and a remarkable conversion was wrought by a 
 sermon of his, from this text, " With God is terrible 
 majesty." On the ninth of May, 1687, he was 
 ordained, and soon after complied with the earnest 
 solicitations of the people of Chester to come and 
 settle among them. In a short time he was married 
 to Miss Catharine Hardware, a person every way 
 accomplished . for an agreeable and suitable com- 
 panion. But the happiness of this union was of 
 short duration. 
 
 In little more than a year after their marriage, 
 God was pleased to take her from the world, and 
 from this his servant to separate the " desire of his 
 eyes with a stroke." A contemporary of Mr. Henry, 
 mentions how much he was affected by the solem- 
 nities of the ensuing Sabbath. The pious and aged 
 Mr. Philip Henry came to comfort his son on this 
 mournful occasion, and preached from the pathetic 
 request of Job, " Show me wherefore thou con- 
 tendest with me." At the conclusion of the service, 
 the bereaved man came forward to present in baptism 
 his only child, nn infant just introduced into a world 
 of tears. He uttered again a confession of his faith, 
 renewed his covenant, and the tears of the audience 
 were mingled with his, when he gave the motherless 
 child to the baptismal font, and added, " although 
 my house be not now so with God, yet he hath 
 made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in 
 all things and sure, and this is all my salvation and 
 all my desire, although he make me not to grow ;
 
 112 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 yet according to the tenor of this covenant offer I 
 up this my child unto the great God, a plant out of a 
 dry ground, desiring that it may be implanted into 
 Christ." 
 
 In his ministerial labors, stated and occasional, 
 he was an example of diligence and activity. Be- 
 side his preaching upon the Sabbath, lecture days, 
 and fast days, which were frequent, he catechised 
 and explained the catechism on Saturdays, at- 
 tended two conferences in the week, one for 
 young persons where religious questions were pro- 
 posed and decided, and another for conversation 
 upon experimental piety. He preached to the ma- 
 lefactors in the castle of Chester, for the space of 
 twenty years, with some appearance of success, and 
 his sermons were so much esteemed in other places, 
 and his help so often requested, that scarce a week 
 elapsed in which he did not preach several times, 
 in the neighboring towns, sometimes at the distance 
 of thirty miles. In his preaching at Chester he 
 began and completed a regular body of divinity, 
 interrupting it only by occasional sermons adapted 
 to the peculiar circumstances of his Hock, or vary- 
 ing state of public affairs. He expounded to them 
 th*, whole of the Bible in course, more than once, 
 so that the people of Chester were observed to excel 
 in the knowledge and understanding of the Scrip- 
 tures. In visiting the sick he was uncommonly 
 attentive, sometimes devoting a part of every day 
 to the duty, and visiting live or six in a day, while 
 his diary records the variations of their sickness, 
 and situation of their minds. 
 
 But in no part of his office did he excel more than 
 in prayer. " In this," says a pious writer, who had 
 often listened to him, " he had a wonderful faculty of
 
 MATTHEW HENUY. 113 
 
 engaging attention and raising the affections, and 
 though copious was never tedious." His people, 
 who placed unbounded confidence in him. would 
 frequently solicit his advice for the direction of any 
 consequential affair, and though his judgment and 
 knowledge of human nature were unquestionable, he 
 hesitated to give his advice unless it was sanctified 
 by prayer. Thus when the people of his charge 
 were under apprehension of danger, about to take a 
 journey, or to part w ith a child, their minister was 
 found with them, to assist, or to counsel, and to 
 recommend their particular case to the notice and 
 favor of a prayer-hearing God. This variety of 
 employment was attended faithfully and discharged 
 affectionately without interfering with family duties, 
 or preventing those literary labors which were 
 afterwards to instruct the world. He was enabled to 
 accomplish so much, by the divine blessing upon his 
 constant improvement of time, and daily prayers for 
 divine assistance. He never presumed to attempt 
 any thing without dedicating it to God by prayer, 
 and his diary gratefully records many evident an- 
 swers of petitions ; " even in the day when he cried 
 he was answered, and strengthened with strength 
 in his soul." 
 
 Some time after the vacancy made in his family 
 by the death of his wife, he was again married to 
 Miss Mary Warburton, a woman of much piety, and 
 who seemed to increase the measure of his earthly 
 happiness. The loss of three children called him 
 again to mourning and wo, and in the midst of 
 those sorrows of which his heart was tenderly sus- 
 ceptible, the deep submission and faith of a Christian 
 were seen to triumph. " All is well that God doeth ;
 
 114 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 he performeth the thing that is appointed for me, to- 
 make me meet for his glory." Five daughters and 
 a son were continued to him, and in his method of 
 education,, he followed the excellent example of his 
 father, and had the pleasure of seeing his work 
 prosper in his hands. 
 
 Among his greatest afflictions was the death of his 
 beloved father. In his diary, the faithful witness 
 between him and his soul, he poured forth his sorrows 
 without restraint. " What is this that God hath, 
 done unto us ? he calleth my sins to remembrance 
 this day. Our morning worship was as the ark of 
 weeping ; among the neighbors lamentation and 
 mourning ; my dear mother cast down, but not in 
 despair ; I myself, full of confusion, and as a man 
 astonished." At considerable length he gives vent 
 to the feelings of a wounded and a humbled soul, 
 for his heart was ever keenly sensible to the claims 
 of affection, gratitude and friendship. The next 
 year he followed to the tomb his two youngest sisters, 
 and two years after, two of his brothers-in-law. To. 
 extract his pathetic expressions of grief, his inter- 
 cession that these sorrows might be subservient to 
 his future joy, would exceed my prescribed limits, 
 yet could I wish that every Christian might read and 
 profit from the sufferings of one deeply afflicted, 
 yet " strong in the faith, giving glory to God." 
 
 By the death of his last brother-in-law, a large 
 family of children were left orphans. Notwith- 
 standing the great number of his burdens, he took 
 npon him the care of their encumbered estate, 
 received several of them into his house, and so 
 educated and provided for them, that they knew not 
 the want of father or mother* and felt not the mise->
 
 REV. MATTHEW HENRY. 115 
 
 ries of orphanage. Their estate improved by his 
 economy, and their souls by his affectionate instruc- 
 tions, will doubtless like the alms and prayers of the 
 centurion " come up for a memorial before God." 
 
 For twenty-four years he had never been absent 
 from Chester at their monthly Sacrament, and so 
 attached was he to his flock, that repeated solicita- 
 tions to become the pastor of three different church- 
 es in London, were refused. But at length the 
 earnest entreaties of the people of Hackney, who 
 would accept no denial, and the opinion of the 
 ministers he most valued, that it was his duty to 
 accept of a sphere of more extensive usefulness 
 led him to deliberate upon the measure. Solemn 
 and earnest prayer recommended the event to God, 
 and the reluctant consent of his people upon the 
 ground of his greater usefulness seemed to remove 
 the barrier to its accomplishment. Their parting 
 was upon the Lord's day, May 11, 1612, and his 
 farewell discourse from 1st Thess. iv. 17, 18. 
 " We shall be forever with the Lord, wherefore 
 comfort one another with these words." He writes 
 in review " a very sad day ; O that by the sadness 
 of our countenances our hearts may be made better. 
 I look bad: with sorrow ; I \ookforward with fear ; 
 but unto thee, O Lord, do I look wo." 
 
 Upon his entrance to a larger field of service, it 
 became evident that he was calculated for great 
 exertions, and that such a burning and shining light 
 ought not to have been confined to narrow limits. 
 He now frequently preached four times on the sab- 
 bath, and every day in the week, for several weeks 
 successively, and sometimes thrice on the same day. 
 He seemed to realize that the time of his departure
 
 116 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 was at hand, and his motion in duty and holiness 
 was accelerated, as he approached the centre of his 
 rest. The next year he went on a visit to his flock 
 at Chester, having promised at his departure to 
 spend some Sabbaths with them every year, and in 
 his annual review of mercies, mentions gratefully, 
 " the comforts of that journey, and happy state of 
 his congregation." 
 
 The ensuing year he again visited them, not know- 
 ing that he came to deposit his bones among them. 
 His last sermon to them was from Hebrews ; " Let 
 us therefore fear, lest a promise being left us of 
 entering into rest, any of you should seem to come 
 short of it." On Monday he left them, in usual 
 health, preached on the road, was taken ill at the 
 house of a friend, and said, " you have been used to 
 take notice of the sayings of dying men, and this is 
 mine ; that a life spent in the service of God, and 
 communion with him, is the most comfortable and 
 pleasant life that any can live in this world." The 
 next morning at five, June 22, 1714, his spirit 
 quietly departed to Him who gave it. 
 
 The number of his printed works is thirty-two, 
 of which the largest are his Scripture Expositions in 
 five folio volumes. Each of these was commenced, 
 finished and sent into the world, with particular and 
 earnest prayer that it might be the instrument of 
 good, and by them, he, being dead, yet speaketh. 
 The venerable author from whose works I have 
 condensed this little account of a most extraordinary 
 man, says, " that the one half has not bren told 
 us, of his unwearied diligence and exemplary piety."
 
 SUSANNA BICKS. 
 
 THIS child, whose life and death might serve as a 
 pattern for experienced Christians, was a native of 
 Holland, and born at Leyden, January 
 1650. 24th, 1650. Her parents gave her re- 
 ligious instruction, as soon as she was 
 capable of receiving it, and delighted to present her 
 to the ministers of the place, that she might be 
 taught and catechised by them. The divine bles- 
 sing descended upon their efforts, and almost as 
 soon as she could speak and act, she put away childish 
 things. She was attentive to her studies, strictly 
 dutiful to her parents, of a sweet and humble dispo- 
 sition, fond of the institutions of religion, and con- 
 scientious in secret prayer. Her amiable deport- 
 ment was not only proposed as a pattern of imita- 
 tion for other children, but even older persons found 
 themselves both edified and reproved by her exem- 
 plary life and conversation. 
 
 In the summer of 1664, when the pestilence ra- 
 ged terribly in Holland, this sweet child was smit- 
 ten, and declined her little head, like some broken 
 flower drooping, yet beautiful. Bending beneath 
 the anguish of that cruel disease she said with great 
 feeling " If thy laws were not my delight I should 
 now perish in my affliction." Her father, coming 
 10
 
 118 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 to encourage her, said, " Be of good comfort, my 
 child ; God will be near thee and us, under this 
 heavy trial he will not forsake, though he chasten 
 us." "jOur heavenly Father," she answered, " chas- 
 tens us for our profit, that we may be partakers of 
 his holiness ; and though for the present it is not joy- 
 ous but grievous, it yieldeth afterwards the peacea- 
 ble fruits of righteousness. The Lord is now chas- 
 tening me upon this bed, but I hope he will so bless 
 it that it may yield blessed fruit, according to his 
 mercies which fail not." Then with her eyes lifted 
 to heaven, she prayed, " Be merciful to me, O Fa- 
 ther ; be merciful to me a sinner, according unto 
 thy word." 
 
 Looking again upon her sorrowful parents, she 
 said " Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he 
 shall sustain thee ; he will never suffer the right- 
 eous to be moved." Therefore, my dear mother, 
 cast all your care upon him, who will cause all things 
 to go well that concern you." Her mother answer- 
 ed, " O, my dear child, God by his grace has given 
 me great comfort in thee, in thy religious temper, 
 thy attention in reading the Scripture, prayer and pi- 
 ous discourse, to the edification of us as well as 
 thyself. The Lord himself, who gave thee to us, 
 make up this loss, if it be his pleasure to take thee 
 away." " Dear mother," said the pious child," though 
 I must leave you, and you me, yet God will never 
 leave either of us. It is said, Can a woman forget 
 her child ? yea r she may forget, yet will I not tbr- 
 get thee : behold I have graven thee upon the palms 
 of my hands. Oh, comfortable words, both for 
 mother and children." 
 
 Being fatigued with her exertions in speaking, she
 
 SUSANNA BICKS. 119 
 
 sank into a slumber, and as she awoke inquired 
 what day it was. On being told it was the Sabbath, 
 she immediately asked her father if he had recom- 
 mended her to the public prayers of the church. He 
 assured her he had. " I have learned," said she, 
 " that the effectual fervent prayer of the righteous 
 availeth much." She had a high esteem for the 
 faithful ministers of Christ, and delighted in their 
 conversation, but knowing the danger that such a 
 visit would expose them to, she would not consent 
 that they should come near her person, but cast her- 
 self wholly on the Lord, and found great comfort in 
 her uncommon knowledge of the Scriptures. 
 
 Though so young, she was greatly concerned for 
 the interests of religion, and the welfare of its min- 
 isters. Her father, coming in to see her, one day, 
 was much astonished to find her weeping violently, 
 and inquiring what distressed her, was answered 
 " Have I not cause to weep, when I have just heard 
 that our minister was taken sick to-day in his pulpit, 
 and went home very ill ? Is not this a sad sign of 
 God's displeasure to our country, when he smiteth 
 such a faithful pastor ?" Thus she who could en- 
 dure the bitter pains of her own sickness without 
 murmuring, mourned bitterly for the sorrow of the 
 church of God. She entertained a low opinion of 
 herself, and her own merits, and would often exclaim, 
 *' The sacrifices of God are a contrite heart ; a 
 broken, and a contrite spirit, God, thou wilt not 
 despise. I desire that brokenness of heart which is 
 built upon and flows from faith, and that faith which 
 is built upon Christ, who is the only sacrifice for 
 sin." 
 
 Soon after, as she awoke from sleep, she said
 
 120 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 " O dear father, and mother, how weak do I feel." 1 
 " My dear," said her father, "God in his tender mer- 
 cy will strengthen your weakness." " Yes, Father," 
 she replied, " that is my confidence ; for it is writ- 
 ten, A bruised reed will he not break, and the smo- 
 king flax he will not quench." She then discours- 
 ed on the nature of faith, and requested to hear the 
 llth of Hebrews, upon which she remarked " O, 
 what a steadfast faith was that of Abraham, which 
 made him willing to offer up his only son. Truly, 
 faith is the substance of things hoped for ; the evi- 
 dence of things not seen." 
 
 Her parents, seeing her deportment, and hearing 
 her wisdom and piety, so far above her years, burst 
 into tears, and bemoaned their dying child, with all 
 the tenderness of wounded affection. " O," said 
 she, " why do you weep so over me, since if the 
 Lord take me out of this miserable world, it shall be 
 well with me through all eternity. You ought to be 
 satisfied, seeing God is in heaven, and doeth what- 
 soever he pleaseth ; and do you not pray every day 
 that his will may be done on earth as it is in heaven ? 
 Now, father, this is God's will, that I should lie up- 
 on this bed, and be sick of this disease ; and shall 
 we not be content when our prayers are answered ? 
 Is not extreme sorrow murmuring against God, 
 without whose good pleasure nothing comes to pass ? 
 Although I am struck with this sad disease, yet be- 
 cause it is the will of God let that silence us ; and 
 I will, as long as I live, pray that his iw'//, and noi 
 mine, be done." 
 
 Seeing them still much afflicted, she spoke of l\n- 
 particular providence of God " The hairs of our 
 head are all numbered : fear not ; ve are of more
 
 SUSANNA BICKS. 121 
 
 value than many sparrows. Adversity and pros- 
 perity are both good ; and though some things may 
 seem evil in our eyes, the Lord turns them all to 
 the good of those who are his." She then spoke of 
 the plague which raged with such violence, as a 
 judgment of God, and not as the infidels accounted 
 it, the natural production of the elements. 
 
 Awaking from slumber she exclaimed " Oh 
 this is the day for explaining the first question of 
 the Catechism, and if we were there we should 
 hear that whether in life or in death a believer is 
 Christ's. Then be comforted ; for whether I live 
 or die I shall be the Lord's ] Oh ! Why do you af- 
 flict yourselves thus 1 But what shall I say ? With 
 weeping I came into this world, and with weeping I 
 must go out again. But oh, my dear parents, bet- 
 ter is the day of my death than the day of my birth." 
 She then desired her father to pray with her, and to 
 entreat that she might have a quiet and peaceable 
 passage into another world. When he had conclu- 
 ded, he asked if she would again see the physician. 
 She answered " No for I am beyond his help." 
 But, my child, replied he, we are to use the appoint- 
 ed means, and leave the event to the Lord." "Yet," 
 she said, " let me lean upon the heavenly physician : 
 he is my helper. Does he not say Come unto me, 
 all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will 
 give you rest ? and hath he not bid us call upon him 
 in the day of trouble, and promised to deliver us that 
 we may glorify him ? Therefore, dear father, call 
 upon him yet again for me." 
 
 Her affection for the Holy Scriptures, and for her 
 Catechism, was remarkable, and she frequently en- 
 treated her father to go particularly to the ministers 
 10*
 
 122 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 who had catechised and instructed her in religion, 
 and thank them in the name of a dying child, and 
 tell them how comforting their words were to her in 
 the time of her distress. She requested also that 
 her sincere thanks might be given to the instructors 
 who had taught her to read and work ; for she 
 thought she could not express gratitude enough to 
 those who had shown her kindness and attention. 
 
 When her father expressed the satisfaction he 
 had taken in her progress in learning, particularly 
 her diligence in reading the Scriptures, and writing, 
 her constant obedience, and love to the ordinances 
 of religion, she answered with great sweetness 
 " I desire to bless God for his kindness in granting 
 me a godly education, and giving me the instruction 
 of such parents and ministers, which I esteem a far 
 better portion than 10,000 guilders, for thus I have 
 learned to comfort myself out of the word of God ; 
 and this comfort the \vorld could never have afford- 
 ed." " My child," said her affectionate father, " 1 
 perceive you are very weak." " It is true, sir," said 
 she, " that I feel my weakness increasing, and that 
 I see your affliction increasing also, is a part of my 
 affliction. But be content, I pray you, it is the 
 Lord that doeth it ; and let us both say with David 
 * Let us fall into his hand ; for his mercies are 
 great.' " 
 
 ."She frequently charged hor parents, not to grieve 
 for her after her death, and recommended to them 
 the example of David, who while his child was 
 sick fasted and wept, but after its death, raised him- 
 self from :the earth, and received refreshment, say- 
 ing " he is now dead. Can I bring him back 
 again? I shall go to him but he shall not return to
 
 SUSANNA B1CK8. 123 
 
 me." So ought you to say after my death, Our 
 child is well ; for we know it shall be well with 
 them that trust in the Lord. My dear mother, who 
 hath done so much for me, you must promise me 
 one thing before I die, and that is not to sorrow 
 too much for me ; I speak this to you particularly, 
 because I am afraid of your great affliction. Con- 
 sider other losses ; remember those of Job. For- 
 get not what Christ foretold : in the world ye shall 
 have tribulation ; but be of good cheer, in me yo 
 shall have peace. Must the apostles sutler so great 
 tribulation, and we sufler none? Did not Jesus 
 Christ, my only life and Saviour, sweat great drops 
 of blood, endure mockings and agony, be nailed to 
 a cross, and have his blessed side pierced with a 
 spear ? Did he not cry out, My God, My God, why 
 hast thou forsaken me ? Did he not purchase for 
 me the garments of righteousness ? There is sal- 
 vation in no other name. O that I might sleep 
 1,1111-1 1 y on his bosom, and that till then he would 
 strengthen me. Oh ! that he would receive me as 
 those little ones, whom he took into his arms, and 
 said Of such is the kingdom of heaven. I lie 
 here as a child. O Lord, I am thy child, roceive 
 me into thine arms. O Lord ! grace and not jus- 
 tice ; for if thou shouldst enter into judgment with 
 me, I cannot stand ; and none living would be just 
 in thy sight." While she was thus comforting her 
 friends out of the Scriptures, she seemed to attain 
 a strong confidence in God. " Who shall separate 
 me from the love of Christ? I am persuaded nei- 
 ther life nor death, angels, principalities or powers, 
 things present, or things to come, height, depth, 
 or any other creature. Christ saith, My sheep heat
 
 124 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 my voice, I know them and they follow me, and no 
 man shall pluck them out of my hands." 
 
 In a triumph of faith, she exclaimed " Death is 
 swallowed up in victory : O death, where is thy 
 sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? The sting 
 of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law : 
 thanks be to God who giveth us the victory, through 
 our Lord Jesus Christ." That she might better 
 satisfy the minds of her mourning friends, she dis- 
 coursed of the shortness of life, and the necessary 
 law of nature appointing all men once to die. " O 
 what is the life of man ; he is like the grass upon 
 the earth, like the flower of the field, which the 
 wind passes over, and it is gone, and its place shall 
 know it no more. We are all from the earth, and 
 to the earth we must return : the dust shall turn to 
 dust, whence it first was, and the spirit to God who 
 gave it." She urged also the sin and sorrow attend- 
 ant upon the present life, as an argument to be ready 
 to resign it. " The longer we live, the more we 
 sin : but now the Lord will free me from that sin 
 and sorrow. What shall I say ? My life shall not 
 continue long, for I feel much weakness. O Lord, 
 look upon me graciously ; have pity upon me. I 
 am oppressed : undertake for me that I may stand 
 fast and overcome." 
 
 She was frequent in prayer, and in spiritual 
 ejaculations, and it gave her great comfort to re- 
 member that Christ interceded for her. " Oh ! 
 without Christ I can do nothing. He is the true 
 vine. Let me be a branch in that vine. What 
 poor worms are we ; and how lame and halting do 
 we go on in the ways of salvation. We know now 
 but in part ; but when that which is perfect shall
 
 SUSANNA B1CK6. 125 
 
 come, imperfection shall he done away. But what 
 are we ourselves? Not only weakness but wick- 
 edness : for we are by nature children of wrath. 
 But oh ! thanks be to God, who has redeemed us 
 from sin." 
 
 She comforted her parents with the strong assur- 
 ance she had of everlasting happiness. " Christ 
 hath said, in my father's house are many mansions ; 
 I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am 
 ye may be also. My dear mother, he hath prepared 
 a dwelling for me ; O Lord, come, and take me to 
 thyself." " My child," said her mother, *' he will 
 strengthen you by his Holy Spirit, until he hath fully 
 prepared you for your appointed place." " Yes, 
 dear mother I am more and more spent, and draw 
 near my last hour." She then desired to be prayed 
 with, that she might have an easy passage. 
 
 She was much concerned for the souls of her re- 
 lations, and particularly enjoined upon her father, 
 that he should bring up her sister as she had been, 
 and instruct her in her catechism and in the things 
 of God. " I formerly wept for my sister," said she, 
 " thinking she would die before me ; and now she 
 weeps for me." She then kissed her weeping sis- 
 ter ; and taking her little sister, an infant of six 
 months old into her arms, she kissed it with much 
 affection, and spoke to parents and children with 
 such tender solicitude as greatly affected all who 
 were present. Her father told one of the atten- 
 dants to take the infant from her, as he feared the 
 hazard of that licry distemper, and had already too 
 much to bear. " Father," answered the sufferer, 
 " did not God preserve the three children in the fiery 
 furnace ? and did you not teach me that Scripture,
 
 126 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 When thou passest through the fire thou shall not 
 be burnt, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee ?" 
 The doctrine of the resurrection gave her spirit 
 much comfort, and far beyond her age she would 
 repeat and apply those Scriptures, which speak of 
 the future glory of this decaying and mouldering 
 body. " It is sown in corruption, it is raised in- 
 corruptible ; it is sown in dishonor, it shall be raised 
 in glory ; it is sown in weakness, it shall be raised 
 in power. Behold ! thus it shall be with my mor- 
 tal flesh. Blessed are the dead, who die in the 
 Lord, because they rest from their labors. They 
 shall enter into peace, they shall rest in their beds : 
 every one who walketh in uprightness. Behold, 
 now, father I shall rest and sleep in that bed-cham- 
 ber. I know that my Redeemer liveth ; and shall 
 stand in the latter day upon the earth ; and though 
 after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my 
 flesh shall I see God. Dear Father, this skin, and 
 perishing flesh which you see, shall be raised up 
 again ; and these eyes which are now so dim shall 
 on that day behold my dear Redeemer ; and though 
 the worms devour my flesh, yet with these eyes shall 
 I behold God for myself. Marvel not at this ; for 
 the hour is coming, in which all that are in their 
 graves shall hear his voice, and come forth : and I 
 shall rise in that day, and behold my Redeemer. 
 Then shall he say unto me, Come, blessed of my 
 father, inherit what was prepared for you from the 
 foundation of the world. Behold, now I live : yet 
 not I but Christ liveth in me ; and the life I now 
 live in the flesh, is by the faith of the son Son of 
 God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. I 
 am saved : yet n"6t of myself : not of works, lest
 
 6U8ANNA BICK8. 127 
 
 any man should boast My dear parents, we must 
 now shortly part : my speech faileth rne : pray to 
 the Lord for a quiet close to my combat." 
 
 The afflicted parents both exclaimed, " Ah ! 
 our dear child, how sad is it that we must part." 
 " I go," said the dying one, " to heaven, where we 
 shall find each other again. I go to Jesus Christ. 
 I go to my dear brother, who did so much cry and 
 call upon God to the last moment of his breath. I 
 go to my little sister who was but three years old, 
 when she died, who when we asked her if she 
 should die, answered, yes, if it be the Lord's will : 
 or 1 will stay with my mother, if it be the Lord's 
 will : but yet, I know that I shall die, and go to 
 heaven, and to God. O see how so small a babe 
 could behave itself so submissively to the will of 
 God, as if it had no will of its own. Therefore, 
 dear father and mother, give the Lord thanks for 
 this bis free and rich grace, and> then I shall the 
 more gladly be gone. Be gracious, then, O Lord, 
 unto me also : be gracious unto me, wash me thor- 
 oughly from mine unrighteousness and cleanse me 
 from my sin." 
 
 After this prayer her spirit was refreshed with a 
 sense of the pardon of her sin, so that she cried out 
 with fervency, '" Behold, God hath washed away 
 my sins, and oh ! how I long to die. The apostle 
 said, In this body we earnestly sigh and groan, long- 
 ing for our house which is in heaven, that we may 
 be clothed therewith. Now I also lie here sighing 
 and longing for that dwelling which is above. In 
 the last sermon which I shall ever hear, 1 heard this, 
 which is a source of great comfort to me." She 
 then repeated several Scriptures which were quoted
 
 128 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 in that sermon, proving with what attention she 
 had listened, and how perfect her powers of recol- 
 lection were to the last. She then desired that 
 prayers might be offered, that her sins might be for- 
 given, that she might have the assurance of faith, 
 and continuation of divine strength and comfort as 
 her necessities might require. 
 
 After being for some time absorbed in mental de- 
 votion, she entreated her parents to forgive the er- 
 rors of her childhood, and to forget the occasions 
 wherein she had grieved, and given them trouble. 
 She then' distributed her books, particularly request- 
 ing her brother never to part with the " Lectures 
 on the Catechism," but to study them in remem- 
 brance of her. Feeling a severe pain in her breast, 
 she said she was assured that her last hour drew 
 nigh ; and her parents suppressed their grief to tell 
 her that God would undoubtedly strengthen her in 
 the hour of her extremity. 
 
 " He is my Shepherd, she replied. Though I 
 walk through the dark valley of the shadow of death, 
 shall I fear, when he comforteth me ? The suffer- 
 ings of this present life, are not worthy to be com- 
 pared to the glory that shall be revealed. Ye are 
 bought with a price : ye are washed, ye are sancti- 
 fied, in the name of our Lord Jesus, and by the 
 spirit of our God. My end approacheth. Now 
 shall I put on white raiment, and be clothed before 
 the Lamb with his spotless righteousness. Angels 
 are ready to carry me before the throne of God." 
 
 This she spoke with a dying voice, but full of 
 the animation of hope and faith. After a pause, 
 she once more addressed her weeping parents. 
 " We know, that if this earthly house, this taberna-
 
 SUSANNA DICKS. 129 
 
 cle, be dissolved, we have one built of God, eternal 
 in the heavens. For this, we sigh earnestly. Fa- 
 ther, this tabernacle of my body is broken down ; 
 but the soul which partcth from it, shall be taken 
 to the heavenly paradise, the New Jerusalem. 
 There shall I dwell, and go no more out, but sing 
 Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts, the God of 
 Sabaoth." Her last words were, " Lord God, 
 into thy hands I commend my spirit. O Lord, be 
 gracious, be merciful to me, a poor sinner." 
 
 Having uttered these words, she fell asleep, on 
 September 1st, 1664, between seven and eight in 
 in the evening, in the fourteenth year of her age. 
 The account of this extraordinary child was first 
 printed in Holland, and afterwards translated from 
 the original Dutch, by a pious man, who was desi- 
 rous that the benefit of such an example might be 
 more widely extended. Let it animate parents to 
 |>er.severe in the duties of religious instruction, and 
 children to be more fervent in prayer that they may 
 be enabled to live the life, and die the death of the 
 righteous. 
 
 11
 
 FENELOff, ARCHBISHOP OF 
 CAMBRAY. 
 
 FRANCIS DE SALIGNAC, DE LA MOTTE FENELON, 
 was born in the castle of Fenelon, in the department 
 
 of Dordogne, in France. At the age 
 1651. of twelve years he left the instructions of 
 
 his father for the university of Cahors, and 
 afterwards went to complete his studies at Paris r 
 under the care of his uncle, the Marquis of Feneloiu 
 He soon began to be known and celebrated at 
 Paris, and at the early age of nineteen, preached 
 there with the most unbounded applause. But the 
 Marquis, who was possessed at once of piety, and a 
 knowledge of the human mind, fearing that the com- 
 mendations of the world might inflate his young 
 heart with vanity, or seduce it from the simplicity of 
 the gospel, persuaded him to imitate for several 
 years the silence of Jesus Christ. 
 
 But his virtues and talents could not be entirely 
 hidden, and his fame began to be sounded at court, 
 so that king Louis XIV. appointed him to conduct 
 a mission for the conversion of the Protestants, on 
 the coast of Saintonge. He appointed a strong 
 military force to assist his exertions, but the young 
 Abb Fenelon, abhorring the sanguinary measures 
 often resorted to by their church, refused to be con-
 
 ARCHBISflOP FENELON. 131 
 
 cemed in the mission, if the troops were ordered to 
 accompany him. His firmness defeated the ill- 
 appointed design, and while the objects of his mis- 
 sion received that mild and gentle treatment which 
 coincides with the spirit of the gospel, the unfortunate 
 Protestants in the other parts of France, were given 
 up to the dreadful effects of the most inhuman per- 
 secution. At his return from his mission he ab- 
 sented himself for two years from the splendor of a 
 dissipated court ; preferring to cultivate in retire- 
 ment the powers of his mind, and the principles of 
 piety. 
 
 At the age of twenty-seven, he was appointed Su- 
 perior to the new female converts in Paris. A few 
 years after, he published an excellent treatise on fe- 
 male education, which was so highly esteemed, that 
 the king appointed him preceptor to his grandchil- 
 dren, the young Dukes of Burgundy and Anjou. 
 In 1695, his merits were rewarded with the Abbey 
 of St. Valery, and shortly after with the Archbish- 
 opric of Cambray. He then relinquished of his 
 own accord the Abbey of St. Valery, thinking it 
 wrong to hold a plurality of benefices. Though 
 blameless in his life and conversation, he was not 
 exempt from the machinations of enmity and re- 
 venge, and was forced by them to leave the court 
 forever. It was supposed that his firmness in per- 
 suading the king not to proclaim Madame de Main- 
 tenon, Queen of France, was the real cause of his 
 banishment ; though the ostensible reason was his 
 publication of a book, entitled " An Explication 
 of the maxims of the Saints," which the Pope con- 
 demned as heretical. 
 
 Retiring from the storms of public life, to the
 
 132 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 tranquil shades of his own diocese, he discharged 
 punctually all the holy duties of his office, and led 
 a pious and exemplary life. Some of the fruits of 
 his leisure, were the volume entitled " Adventures 
 of Telemachus," written in a fine style, containing 
 maxims which advance the happiness of mankind, 
 and a most sublime moral. His enemies in the 
 court of Louis, prevailed upon that monarch to 
 stop the printing of it at Paris, but its intrinsic merit 
 established its fame throughout Europe. His rest- 
 less foes endeavored with unceasing malice to 
 deprive him of the Archbishopric of Cambray, 
 but he still retained that office, and continued to 
 delight all who were within the sphere of his influ- 
 ence, by gentle piety, and ineffable sweetness of 
 manners. 
 
 His enemies, defeated in this attempt, placed in 
 his neighborhood an ecclesiastic of high birth, with 
 the title of his Grand Vicar, to be a spy upon all 
 his actions. But having long observed the pure 
 and spotless heart which he had been employed to 
 calumniate, struck with remorse, he came and 
 threw himself at the feet of Fenelon, confessed the 
 unworthy part which he had been engaged to per- 
 form, implored his forgiveness, and sought to cover 
 his shame in retirement. Meekly sustained was 
 this sweet triumph of rectitude of heart, and sin- 
 cere piety. So universal was the fame of his good- 
 ness and virtue, that in the last year of the war with 
 Louis XIV., the Duke of Marlborough gave orders 
 to his troops " not to plunder the estate of the ami- 
 able Fenelon." Thus peculiarly favored, he direct- 
 ed his benevolent attentions to those who suffered. 
 He assembled iii his pulace the unfortunate people,
 
 ARCHBISHOP FKM.l.oN. 133 
 
 whom the horrors of war had driven from their 
 dwellings, fed them at his own table, and assisted 
 them by many acts of kindness. 
 
 One day as he was waiting upon a'numerous com- 
 pany, he observed one of the peasants did not eat, 
 and tenderly inquired the reason. " Alas ! my lord," 
 said the poor man, " when I fled from my cottage, 
 I had not time to bring away a cow that nourished my 
 family ; the enemy will carry her off, and I shall never 
 be able to find so good a one." Rising from his table, 
 the benevolent Archbishop took one of his domes- 
 tics, left the city immediately, found the animal, and 
 brought her himself to the peasant. In no moment 
 of honor, applause, or acquisition of fortune, did he 
 realize such simple and real delight, as when, driving 
 before him the cow of the poor peasant, he thought 
 of the hearts that this humble and fearless act had 
 made glad. He would often walk to the cottages 
 of the poor in the environs of Cambray, seat himself 
 among them, and listen to their tales of sorrow, that 
 he might better know how to sooth, comfort and 
 relieve them. " There," they would say, after his 
 death, " There is the wooden chair, in which our 
 good Archbishop used to sit among us. Ah ! we 
 shall never see him more." They spoke his name 
 with the deepest reverence and affection, and thought 
 of him, as if he had been an angel. 
 
 In the beginning of the 17th century, the young 
 prince spent some time with him at his palace in 
 Cambray. In the course of his instructions he 
 earnestly dissuaded him from using the arm of force 
 and persecution, in matters of religion, as was the 
 too prevalent custom of those bigoted ages. " No 
 human power," said he, " can have any authority 
 11*
 
 184 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 over the freedom of the mind. Violence may make 
 hypocrites, but it can never persuade the heart ; 
 and to bring such proselytes to religion is not to 
 protect, but debase it." Thus lived the amiable 
 Fenelon, in the practice of every virtue which true 
 piety inculcates. His death was hastened by 
 casualty. As he was taking the air in a retired 
 part of his estate, the horses took a sudden fright, 
 and the carriage was overturned. A contusion 
 which he then received, occasioned an inflammation 
 in the breast, which terminated his life, on the eighth 
 of January, 1715, at the age of 64. 
 
 He was a Christain who highly prized, and sta- 
 tedly availed himself of the privilege of prayer. 
 " Such is our dependance upon God," he writes, 
 " that we are obliged to seek from him the very 
 power of right action. This necessity of having 
 recourse to him in all our wants, instead of being 
 grievous should be our greatest consolation. \Vhat 
 a happiness that we are allowed to speak to him 
 with confidence, to open our hearts and hold familiar 
 conversation with him by prayer. He himself in- 
 vites us to it ; and we may judge how ready he is to 
 give us those good things Avhich he himself solicits 
 us to ask of him. Let us pray then with faith, and 
 not lose the fruit of our prayers, by a wavering 
 uncertainty, which the apostle James testifies hin- 
 ders their success. He advises us to pray when we 
 are in trouble, because thereby we shall find conso- 
 lation ; yet are we so wretched that this heavenly 
 employment is often a burden more than a comfort 
 to us. The lukewarmness of our prayers is the 
 source of all our other infidelities. Our Saviour 
 said ' usk, and ye shall find ; seek, and ye shall
 
 ARCHBISHOP KENELON. 135 
 
 obtain; knock, and it shall be opened to you.' 
 li" riches were to be had for asking, with what ear- 
 nestness, assiduity and perseverance, would men ask 
 for them. If treasures were to be found with 
 looking for them, what place, what corner would 
 escape search? If by knocking they could gain 
 admittance into the king's counsel, or the highest 
 places of preferment, what a knocking should we 
 hear ? Divine grace . is the only true good, yet the 
 only thing they neglect ; the only thing which they 
 have not patience to wait for. The promises of 
 Christ are infallibly certain, and it is our own fault if 
 we do not find their blessed effect." 
 
 To these sentiments of the admirable Fenelon, 
 I add a prayer of his, expressive of that profound 
 humility which ever characterized his piety. " O 
 Lord ! I know not what I should ask of thee. 
 Thou only knowest what I want : and thou lovest 
 me better than I can love myself. O Lord, give to 
 one who desires to be thy child, what .is proper, 
 whatsoever it may be. I dare not ask either com- 
 forts or crosses. I only present myself before thee : 
 I open my heart unto thee. Behold those wants 
 which I am ignorant of: but do thou behold and do 
 according to thy mercy. Smite or heal: depress, 
 or raise me up : I adore all thy purposes without 
 knowing them : I am silent : I offer myself in. sacri- 
 fice. I abandon myself to thee ; having no greater 
 desire than to accomplish thy will. Teach me to 
 pray. Pray thou thyself in me." Thus humble, 
 thus childlike was this eminent saint in the presence 
 of his God ; emptying himself of all that the 
 world might call talents and goodness, and clothing 
 his soul with the simplicity of Christ.
 
 136 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 Another prayer of his is inserted at the close of 
 one of his works, entitled " A Demonstration of 
 the Existence, Wisdom, and Omnipotence of God," 
 drawn from a survey of nature, particularly of man. 
 With the eye of a philosopher, and a Christian, he 
 explores his subject, and clothes his remarks in the 
 robe of unvarnished elegance, while the great works 
 of the Deity elevated his soul to sublime adoration. 
 To use the words of a fine writer " this supplica- 
 tion is the voice of an happy and untroubled spirit, 
 or like the worship of an angel concerned for those 
 who had fallen, though himself still in the state of 
 glory and innocence." 
 
 " Oh ! my God, if the greater part of mankind 
 do not discover thee in that glorious show of nature 
 which thou has placed before our eyes, it is not be- 
 cause thou art far from any one of us. Thou art 
 present to us more than any object that we touch, 
 with our hands ; but our senses, and the passions 
 they produce in us, turn our attention from thee. 
 Thy light shineth in the midst of darkness, but the 
 darkness comprehendeth it not. Thou, O Lord, 
 dost every way display thyself. Thou shinest in 
 all thy works, but art not regarded by heedless, un- 
 thinking man. The whole creation speaks loudly 
 of thee, and echoes with the repetition of thine ho- 
 ly name. But such is our insensibility, that we are 
 deaf to the great and universal voice of nature. 
 Thou art every where about us, and within us ; 
 but we wander from ourselves, become strangers to 
 our own souls, and do not apprehend thy presence. 
 O Thou, who art the eternal fountain of light and 
 beauty, who art the ancient of days, without begin- 
 ning and without end : O Thou, who art the life
 
 ARCHBISHOP FENELON. 137 
 
 of all that truly live, those can never i'ail to find 
 thee who seek for thcc within themselves. Rut 
 alas ! the very gifts which thou bestowest upon 
 us, do so employ our thoughts, that thoy hinder us 
 from perceiving the hand (hat conveys them to us. 
 We live by Thee, and yet live without thinking on 
 thee : yet, O Lord, what is life in the ignorance of 
 thee ? A dead, inactive piece of matter, a flower 
 that withers, a river that glides away, a palace that 
 hastens to its ruin, a picture made up of fading 
 colors, or a mass of shining ore, strike our imagina- 
 tions, and make us sensible of their existence. We 
 regard them as objects capable of giving us pleas- 
 ure, not considering that thou conveyest through 
 them all the pleasure which we imagine they give 
 us. Such vain, empty objects that are only the 
 shadows of being, are proportioned to our low and 
 grovelling thoughts. That beauty which thou hast 
 poured out on the creation, is as a veil which hides 
 thee from our eyes. As thou art a being too pure 
 and exalted to pass through our senses, thou art not 
 regarded by men who have debased their nature, 
 and made themselves like the beasts that perish. 
 So infatuated are they, that notwithstanding they 
 know what is wisdom and virtue, which have neither 
 sound, nor color, nor smell, nor taste, nor figure, 
 nor any other sensible quality, they can doubt of thy 
 existence because thou art not apprehended by the 
 grosser organs of sense. Wretches that we are ! 
 we consider shadows as realities, and truth as a 
 phantom. That which is nothing is all to us : that 
 which is all appears to us as nothing. What do we 
 see in all nature but thee, O my God ! Thou and 
 only Ihou, appearcst in every thing. When I con-
 
 138 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 sider thee, O my God, I am swallowed up and lost 
 in contemplation of thee. Every thing, besides 
 thee, even my own existence, vanishes and disap- 
 pears in the contemplation of thee. I am lost to 
 myself, and fall into nothing when I think on thee. 
 The man who does not see thee has beheld noth- 
 ing : he who does not taste thee has a relish for 
 nothing. His being is vain : his life but a dream. 
 Set up thyself, O Lord : set up thyself that we 
 may behold thee. As wax consumes before the 
 fire, and as the smoke is driven away, so let thine 
 enemies vanish out of thy presence. How unhap- 
 py is that soul, who without the sense of thee, has 
 no God, no hope, no comfort to support him. But 
 how happy the man that searches, sighs, and thirsts 
 after thee. Yet he only is fully happy on whom 
 thou liftest the light of thy countenance, whose tears 
 thou hast wiped away, and who in thy loving kind- 
 ness enjoys the completion of all his desires. How 
 long, how long, O Lord, shall I wait for that day, 
 when I shall possess in thy presence, fulness of joy 
 and pleasures forevermore ? O my God, in this 
 pleasing hope my soul rejoices and cries out, who is 
 like unto thee ? My heart melts away, and my 
 spirit faints within me, when I look up to thee who 
 art the God of my life, and my portion to all eter- 
 nity."
 
 REV. CHRISTOPHER LOVE. 
 
 CHRISTOPHER LOVE was an eminently faithful 
 
 minister of Laurence-jury, London. In the time 
 
 of the usurper Cromwell, he was accused 
 
 1651. of an attachment to monarchy, and un- 
 der a false pretext of plotting against 
 government, sentenced to the block. From his 
 dying speech to the people, the following is selected. 
 
 Although there is but a little between me and 
 death, yet this bears up my heart, there is but 
 little between me and- heaven. It comforted the 
 martyr Taylor, when he was going to execution, 
 that there were but two stiles between him and his 
 father's house ; there are but two steps between 
 me and glory. It is but lying down upon that block, 
 and I shall ascend a throne. I am this day sailing 
 to the ocean of Eternity ; through a rough pas- 
 sage to an haven of rest ; through a red sea to the 
 promised land. As God said to Moses, ' Go up to 
 Mount Nebo, and die there,' methinks I hear him 
 say to me, Go up to Tower-hill, and die there. 
 Isaac said to himself, that he was old, and knew 
 not the day of his death ; yet, I am young, and 
 know the day of my death, the kind of my death, 
 and the place of my death. 
 
 " Lake John the Baptist, and Paul the Apostle, I 
 am to be beheaded. I read also in the Scriptures 
 that " the saints were beheaded for the word of God, 
 and for the testimony of Jesus. But herein is the
 
 140 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 disadvantage which I lie under, in the thoughts of 
 many, who judge, that I suffer not for the word of 
 God, or for conscience' sake, but for meddling with 
 state matters. I briefly answer, that this is an old 
 subterfuge of Satan, to impute the cause of the 
 sufferings of God's people to machinations against 
 the state, when in truth they are persecuted for 
 their conscience and their religion. The rulers of 
 Israel would have put Jeremiah to death on a civil 
 account, though it was only the boldness of his 
 prophecy, against which they were angry. They 
 pretended that he must die because he fell away to 
 the Chaldeans, and would have brought in foreign 
 forces to invade them. The same thing is laid to 
 my charge, of which I am as innocent as Jeremiah 
 was. So Paul, though he did but preach Jesus 
 Christ, yet his enemies sought to put him to death 
 as a mover of sedition. 
 
 " Upon a civil account, it is pretended, my life is 
 taken away ; but it is because I pursue my cove- 
 nant, and will not prostitute my principles and con- 
 science to the ambition and lust of men. I had 
 rather die a covenant keeper, than live a covenant 
 breaker. Beloved, I am this day making a double 
 exchange ; I am changing a pulpit for a scaffold, 
 and a scaffold for a throne. And I might add a 
 third, I am changing the presence of this great 
 multitude on Tower Hill, for an innumerable com- 
 pany of saints and martyrs on the holy hill of Zion : 
 I am changing this guard of soldiers, for a guard of 
 angels, who will receive and conduct me to Abra- 
 ham's bosom. This scaffold is the best pulpit that 
 I ever preached in ; God, through his grace, made 
 me in my church pulpit an instrument to bring
 
 UEV. CHRISTOPHER LOVE. 141 
 
 others to heaven ; but in this pulpit he will bring me. 
 to heaven. Though my blood be not that of no- 
 bles, it is Christian blood innocent blood. 
 
 I magnify the riches of God's grace and mercy 
 towards me, who, born in Wales, an obscure coun- 
 try, and of obscure parents, should thus be singled 
 out for such honorable sufferings. For the first 
 fourteen years of my life, I never heard a sermon ; 
 yet in my fifteenth year it pleased God to convert 
 me. Blessed be God, who not only made me a 
 Christian, but also a minister, judging me faithful, 
 and putting me into the ministry, which is my glory. 
 
 I had rather be a preacher in a pulpit, than a 
 prince upon a throne : I had rather be an instrument 
 to bring souls to heaven, than that all nations should 
 pay tribute to me. 
 
 Formerly, I have been under a spirit of bondage, 
 and sometimes have had more fear of the drawing 
 of a tooth, than now of the cutting off my head. 
 Fear was often upon me when death was not near ; 
 now death is near me, and my fear hath vanished. 
 In this I am comforted ; though men kill me, they 
 cannot damn me ; though they thrust me out of the 
 world, they cannot shut me out of heaven. When 
 I have shed my blood, I expect the full declaration 
 of the remission of sins through the blood of Jesus 
 Christ. I am going to my long home, and ye to 
 your short homes ; but before ye reach yours, I 
 shall be at mine." 
 
 After this he prayed earnestly, " that as he was 
 railed to the work he had never done, he might have 
 (he strength that he never had," and then calmly 
 suffered the stroke of the executioner, on the twenty- 
 second of August, in the year 1651. 
 12
 
 JACOB BICKS. 
 
 THIS interesting and religious child was the bro- 
 ther of Susanna Bicks, a remarkable instance of 
 
 early piety, and born at Leyden, Holland, 
 1657. in the year 1657. His parents were very 
 
 strict and conscientious in his education, 
 and God was pleased to sanctify their prayers and 
 instructions to his thorough conversion. In the 
 time of the fatal plague, he was seized with the in- 
 fection four weeks before his sister, and it so affect- 
 ed his head, that he was very drowsy and lethargic. 
 In his waking intervals, he was almost constantly 
 engaged in prayer, and though but a little child, found 
 it a great comfort in his distress. Once after his pa- 
 rents had been praying by him, they asked him if he 
 would again see the physician. He answered, 
 " No. I will have him no more. The Lord will 
 help me, for I know he will take me to himself." 
 " My dear child," said his father, " that grieves my 
 heart." " Father," said the patient sufferer, " let 
 us pray ; and the Lord will be near for my helper." 
 After prayer he exclaimed " Come now, dear fa- 
 ther and mother, and kiss me ; I know that I shall 
 die. Farewell, my dear parents, farewell dear 
 sister, farewell all. Now shall I go to heaven, 
 and to God, and to Jesus Christ, and the holy an-
 
 JACOB BICKS. 143 
 
 gels. Remember you not what is said by Jeremi- 
 ah ? Blessed is he who trusteth in the Lord. Now 
 I trust in him, and he will bless me. ' Little chil- 
 dren, love not the world : for it passeth away.' 
 Away then with all the pleasant things of the world ! 
 away with my toys away with my books ; for in 
 heaven I shall know sufficiently of the true wisdom 
 without them." " God," said his father, " will be 
 near thee, and uphold thee." " Yes, father," said 
 the child, " it is written God resisteth the proud, but 
 giveth grace unto the humble. I shall humble my- 
 self under his mighty hand, and he will lift me up." 
 " O my dear child," replied the afflicted father, 
 " hast thou so strong a faith 1" " Yes," said the 
 dying one, " God hath given me so strong a faith 
 upon Jesus Christ, that the devil himself shall flee 
 from me. He that believeth on the Son hath ever- 
 lasting life, and shall overcome the wicked one. 
 Now I believe in Jesus Christ my Redeemer, and 
 he will never leave or forsake me, but will give unto 
 me eternal life, and let me sing, Holy holy holy 
 is the Lord of Sabaoth." 
 
 Then praying earnestly " Lord be merciful to 
 me a poor sinner " he quietly and sweetly breath- 
 ed out his soul, when he was only seven years old, 
 in the month of August, 1664.
 
 THE MARQ,tJTS OF ARGYL.E. 
 
 THE celebrated Scotch Marquis of Argyle, to 
 many popular accomplishments added a zealous 
 
 piety ; and being a firm friend to the 
 1661. Covenanted Reformation, was put to 
 
 death for it, as a crime, in the spring of 
 1661, in the second year of the reign of the Second 
 Charles. When his sentence of death passed the 
 parliament, he answered, " I had the honor to set 
 the crown upon the King's head, and now he has- 
 tens me to a better crown than his own." One day 
 intervened between his sentence and execution, and 
 as he entered the gloomy prison to which he was 
 remanded, his excellent lady met him covered with 
 tears, and embracing him, said, " The Lord will re- 
 quite it." None in the room could refrain from 
 weeping and lamentation, except the Marquis, who, 
 perfectly composed, said " Forbear ; forbear ; tru- 
 ly, I pity them, they know not what they are doing ; 
 they may shut me in where they please, but they 
 cannot shut out my God from me. For my part, I 
 am as content to be here, as in the castle of Edin- 
 burgh ; as content in the castle, as in the Tower 
 of London, where I was first put ; and I hope to be 
 as content upon the scaffold, as in any of them all." 
 He mentioned that he had been endeavoring to
 
 THE MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. 145 
 
 imitate the conduct of David, who when Ziklag was 
 taken and burnt, and his people spake of stoning 
 him, encouraged himself in the Lord his God. His 
 short respite from Saturday to Monday, was passed 
 with the greatest serenity and cheerfulness, and in 
 the proper exercises of a dying Christian. To some 
 ministers who were allowed to attend him, he said, 
 " Shortly you will envy me who have gone before ; 
 for my skill fails, if you who are ministers will not 
 either suffer much, or sin much ; for if you agree 
 with these men in part only, you will suffer, and if 
 you go not at all with them, you shall but suffer." In 
 this he alluded to the growing trouble of the times, 
 and to the religious persecutions opened against the 
 faithful. 
 
 The Marquis was naturally timorous, but he de- 
 sired those about him to observe, how God had an- 
 swered his prayers by removing all fear from him ; 
 and it was not the work of his friends to reconcile 
 him to his dissolution, so much as to restrain and 
 qualify his desires after it The morning of Mon- 
 day, the day that he suffered, while thronged with 
 papers relative to his estate, his mind was so fixed 
 upon heavenly things, so supernaturally supported 
 and comforted, that he rapturously exclaimed, " I 
 thought to have concealed the Lord's goodness, but 
 it will not do ; I am now ordering my earthly affairs, 
 and God is sealing my charter to a better inherit- 
 ance, and was just now saying to me, " Son, be of 
 good cheer ; thy sins are forgiven thee." 
 
 Afterwards he retired for a time by himself, for 
 secret devotion, and as he returned, a friend said to 
 him " What cheer, my Lord?" "Good cheer," he an- 
 swered, " the Lord hath again confirmed, and said to 
 12*
 
 146 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 me from heaven, Son, be of good cheer, thy sins arc 
 forgiven thee ;" and gushing out in tears of joy, he 
 turned to the window, and wept there. Afterwards 
 he said in a perfect rapture, " I think his kindness 
 overcomes me ; but God is good to me, and im- 
 parts not too much of it here, for he knows I could 
 not bear it. Get my cloak, and let us go." Being 
 told his hour was not yet come, he kneeled down 
 and prayed with them all, like a saint like a mar- 
 tyr like a seraph. As he passed on to death, he 
 said, " I could now die like a Roman, but I choose 
 rather to die like a Christian." 
 
 Meeting a friend, Mr. James Guthrie, also sen- 
 tenced to death, he embraced and bade him fare- 
 well. " God is with you," said his friend, " hath 
 been with you, and will continue to be with you ; 
 and I, were I not now under sentence of death, 
 could cheerfully die for your lordship." The Mar- 
 quis addressed the people, at his place of execution, 
 expressing his complacency in the cause for which 
 he suffered, and then his blood flowed on the scaf- 
 fold of Tower Hill, on Monday, May 27, 1661.
 
 REV. SAMUEL LAWRENCE. 
 
 SAMUEL LAWRENCE, the only son of William 
 
 Lawrence, a respectable man, and very eminent 
 
 Christian, was born at Wern, a small mar- 
 
 1661. ket town in Shropshire, in the year 1661. 
 When scarcely past the age of infancy, he 
 was sent to school, that he might be out of the way 
 of danger, but with no expectation of his learning 
 any thing ; yet while they supposed him too young 
 to understand, he made himself master of the al- 
 phabet, and before the year had expired could read 
 in the Bible with accuracy and propriety. While 
 he was yet a child he entered upon the Latin lan- 
 guage, and made such proficiency in that and his 
 other studies, that as he passed from school to 
 school his instructors distinguished and applauded 
 him. The time usually allotted to sport, he devot- 
 ed to study, and when his parents, fearful that he 
 might injure his health, allured him by pecuniary 
 rewards to join in the pastimes of his companions, 
 he would return with increased ardor and attach- 
 ment to his books. 
 
 At that early period his virtues and piety began 
 to disclose themselves, he seemed estranged from 
 the vanity and waywardness often observable at 
 that season of life, and such a spirit of devotion
 
 148 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 characterised him that pious people were accustom- 
 ed to distinguish him as one " sanctified from his 
 birth." He was attached to the stated exercise of 
 secret prayer, and would rise very early, that he 
 might secure the hour most favorable to meditation, 
 and send forth on the wings of the morning his soul 
 to meet its Creator. Such a fair and auspicious 
 dawn, seemed to be the prelude of an illustrious 
 day. 
 
 After finishing early his course of university stud- 
 ies, he officiated first as assistant in an academy, 
 and afterwards as domestic chaplain to the pious 
 Lady Irby. Here his amiable and exemplary con- 
 duct gained him great esteem and affection ; and 
 when some of his intimate friends expressed con- 
 cern lest his youth and extreme diffidence should 
 embarrass him in the performance of family prayer, 
 where many persons of rank and learning were 
 frequently present, he answered nobly, " this does 
 not affect me at all, for I consider myself standing 
 in a greater presence than theirs." He was obser- 
 ved to be very frugal in his way of living, that he 
 might save something at the end of the year, to send 
 his father, who had suffered great losses by fire. 
 Filial reverence, and strong affection for his friends, 
 were among the most striking excellences of his 
 character. 
 
 From his chaplaincy, he was removed to the pas- 
 toral care of the town of Nantwich, and was soon dis- 
 tinguished as a systematic, and laborious preacher, 
 careful in visiting the sick and afflicted, faithful in 
 catechising and instructing the children of his peo- 
 ple, and affectionate in the administration of ordi- 
 nances. In baptism he received the child from the
 
 REV. SAMUEL LAWRENCE. 149 
 
 arms of the parent, and after discoursing with him on 
 the great importance of the deposit, returned it with a 
 solemn charge to bring it up in the fear of God, and 
 in the faith of Christ. He accustomed himself to 
 preach every Saturday at noon, because it was 
 market day, and generally a great assemblage of 
 country people convened, whom he hoped a few 
 serious truths would help to prepare for the duties 
 of the Sabbath. 
 
 When some of his friends requested him to adapt 
 his labors more to the delicacy of his constitution, 
 he answered, " the strength that my master gives 
 me, I delight to use in his work, and do not desire 
 to live a day longer than I may do him some ser- 
 vice." At the head of a family his whole conduct 
 was strikingly conscientious ; his morning and 
 evening worship was performed with regularity and 
 fervor ; his public sermons repeated privately and 
 explained to his household, and his whole aim to 
 render religion desirable and pleasant to his children 
 and domestics. For the improvement of some 
 young men intended for the ministry, he began to 
 read a course of university learning, especially 
 Philology and Philosophy, and would accept of no 
 compensation for his trouble, but in that, as well 
 as in innumerable instances beside, proved that he 
 did good for goodness' sake. He was of a peace- 
 able and gentle temper, bearing and forgiving in- 
 juries, and his whole deportment was blameless and 
 conciliating. Though his constitution was feeble 
 he was never prevented from officiating in the pulpit 
 by sickness, the whole time he was at Nantwich, 
 more than 24 years, until the Lord's day before 
 his death, when he was confined with a distressing
 
 150 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 fever. With composure and many prayers he com- 
 mitted himself to the divine disposal, and when in 
 the last agonies of dissolving nature, said to his 
 weeping friends, " I do not fear, I do not fear," 
 and thus died peacefully in the ninth day of 
 his disease, and 51st year of his age, Thursday, 
 April 24th, 1712.
 
 MARY SECOND, ^UEEff OF 
 GREAT BRITAIN. 
 
 MARY, the daughter of James Second, was born 
 in the year 1662, and at the age of 15, married to 
 
 the prince of Orange, afterwards, Wil- 
 1662. liam Third of Great Britain. She was 
 
 extremely handsome, " but her person,'* 
 says her historian, " was the beautiful temple of a 
 still fairer soul." The dignity of her manners in- 
 spired reverence, while her sweet and affable coun- 
 tenance rendered that majesty attractive. She ex- 
 hibited early indications of a happy disposition, by 
 being kind and gentle before she knew it was her 
 duty to be so. This amiable temper grew up with 
 her ; and it is asserted that in the whole course of 
 her education she never gave her teachers occasion 
 for reproof. Very early in youth she removed from 
 her native country to Holland, but though at an age 
 generally termed giddy, she went under the guid- 
 ance of so much discretion was so gentle and 
 obliging in her deportment so charitable and com- 
 passionate so universally exemplary that she at- 
 tracted the esteem and love of all ranks of people 
 in the United Provinces. Their affection bordered 
 on rapture, and their veneration, though no more 
 than her due, seemed to those who knew her not al-
 
 152 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 most excessive. Though both her parents professed 
 the Roman Catholic Religion, she was a Protestant 
 in principle, and when her father wrote her a letter 
 in favor of Popery, she replied with such weighty 
 arguments, with such spirit, firmness, and intelli- 
 gence, as convinced him that her belief was not to 
 be shaken, and precluded all further solicitations on 
 the subject. 
 
 In 1688, after James Second, had abdicated the 
 throne of England, she, in conjunction with her hus- 
 band, received from both houses of Parliament, an 
 invitation to return and asbume the honors of royal- 
 ty. To this, her consent was not gained, without 
 serious deliberation, and painful reluctance. A 
 crown and sceptre could not dazzle the strong eye 
 of her mind ; she remembered that the throne to 
 which she was invited, had been rendered vacant by 
 the arbitrary conduct, and blind bigotry of her fa- 
 ther, and to fill it herself while he survived was an 
 idea scarcely supportable. Yet while she was con- 
 tinually reminded that the good of her native coun- 
 try, and the suffering interests of the Protestant reli- 
 gion demanded her acceptance, her mind yielded 
 eventually to what her feelings revolted from ; 
 though while she endeavored to support her dignity 
 with apparent satisfaction, her heart was oppressed 
 almost to sinking. 
 
 A sense of religion and duty did not influence 
 her in this great and important step alone, but was 
 observable in her constant deportment. She lived 
 a life of extraordinary piety, and was punctually ex- 
 act in her attention to all the public offices of reli- 
 gion, and the exercises of secret devotion. Neither 
 business, journies, or the care of public affairs were
 
 MARY SECOND. 153 
 
 suffered to prevent or shorten the daily duty of se- 
 cret prayer. This was in no instance neglected, for 
 she judged that the blessing of the whole day, de- 
 pended upon it. She religiously observed the Sab- 
 bath, and attended public worship, three, and often 
 four times. She was constant in her monthly at- 
 tendance on the Sacrament, particularly attentive on 
 her preparations for it, and usually devoted the pre- 
 ceding day to prayer and fasting. In the public 
 worship of God, she was a bright example of sol- 
 emn, unaffected devotion. Her whole attention 
 was fixed on the sacred services, and not a single 
 glance wandered to surrounding objects. She re- 
 membered that she was in the presence of the King 
 of kings, and such was her gravity and reverence, 
 that she seemed to spread the spirit of devotion 
 around her. She discovered no uneasiness at hear- 
 ing an indifferent preacher ; and when asked how 
 she could be so attentive to sermons of very inferi- 
 or merit, she would reply, " that she thought it did 
 not become her by any part of her behaviour to dis- 
 courage, or even seem to dislike one who was doing 
 his best." She endeavored to diffuse a spirit of piety 
 into all who approached her : she was continually 
 dispersing good books ; and frequently ordered them 
 to be laid in places of attendance, that the servants 
 who were in waiting, might have both entertainment 
 and instruction. 
 
 She was anxious to raise the reputation of the clergy, 
 as a method of advancing religion ; and resolved that 
 their only recommendation to her particular favor 
 should be, exemplary lives, faithfulness in labor, 
 watchfulness in instructing, counselling and cherish- 
 ini? their flock, and a conversation becoming godli- 
 13
 
 154 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ness. She greatly wished for an union of all who 
 believe in the gospel, and judged that the true end 
 of power, and the best exercise of it, was to do good. 
 She would often say, " Nothing can render high sta- 
 tions pleasant, or even supportable, but the power of 
 doing good, and I wonder the true satisfaction at- 
 tending goodness does not engage princes to pursue 
 it more ardently." Her bounties were frequent and 
 liberal. Those unfortunate Protestants, who fled 
 from the persecutions of France, and those who es- 
 caped from the confusions in Ireland, had their exile 
 mitigated, and their distresses relieved by her com- 
 passion. 
 
 She was particularly attentive to discover and 
 supply the necessities of persons of real merit, who 
 had been reduced by misfortune. She obtained a 
 royal provision for wounded and decayed seamen, 
 caused them to be comfortably maintained, and 
 to have the privileges of religious instruction. She 
 erected schools where they were needed, and pro- 
 cured a noble endowment for a college in the Ame- 
 rican States, of which she presented a scheme, ac- 
 curately drawn up, to the King. She even extended 
 her munificence to the poor in distant lands, and to 
 foreign churches that were necessitous. The scat- 
 tered remains of the Protestants who had been 
 hunted out of their vallies in Piedmont, she embo- 
 died and preserved. For the remnant of the Bo- 
 hemian churches she established nurseries of religion 
 in those parts of Germany which had become ex- 
 hausted by the miseries of war. But even a royal 
 treasury could not have answered the demands of 
 her extensive charity, had she been less attentive 
 aud exact in its distribution. Hence she was care-
 
 MARY SECOND. 155 
 
 ful to obtain accurate accounts, both of the necessi- 
 ties and merits of the candidates for her liberality, 
 and in dispensing it, displayed as much persever- 
 ance, judgment and diligence, as if she had no 
 cares of a different nature. She was very far from 
 ostentation in her benevolence ; and whenever it 
 was alluded to by others, passed from it to other 
 subjects, as though she could not endure it. 
 
 In her were united active zeal, and constant delight 
 in doing good, with such unaffected humility, and 
 indifference to applause, that the most critical ob- 
 servers could perceive in her no propensity to vanity, 
 or glorying in her own deeds. Her charities were 
 conducted with the greatest possible secrecy, and 
 whenever it was practicable, her own hand was the 
 silent almoner. None knew what she gave, or to 
 whom, except those whom she was compelled to 
 employ in the communication of her bounty, and 
 they were under injunctions of secrecy, for she gave 
 not alms to be applauded of men. It gave her great 
 pain to hear of the licentiousness and impiety that 
 prevailed in different parts of the nation, and she 
 exerted herself to suppress the irregularities which 
 she heard were countenanced in the British fleets 
 and armies. Next to open impiety, the coldness 
 of professing Christians, and the disunion of the Pro- 
 testant churches, affected her, and she would often 
 say with the greatest feeling, " Can such dry bones 
 live ?" 
 
 Of time she was a most faithful steward. She 
 compared her life to an hour-glass, which was con- 
 tinually diminishing, and every sand to be account- 
 ed for. She viewed indolence as the great enemy 
 of human nature ; and believed that the mind which
 
 156 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 had no employment, would create itself the worst. 
 When, therefore, her eyes were weakened by intense 
 reading, she resorted to needle-work, which she pur- 
 sued with as much diligence as if her own labor 
 was her sole support. While thus employed, she 
 took care to furnish entertainment for those who 
 had the honor to work with her, by appointing one 
 to read aloud something pleasing and instructive. 
 Few of her sex ever gave less time to dress, or 
 seemed less interested in it. 
 
 When the ceremonies of court required her to 
 appear with more splendor, she constantly read 
 aloud, that those employed about her person might 
 receive instruction, and frequently mingled her read- 
 ing with such remarks, that they considered the 
 comment better than the original. Never was 
 mistress both feared and loved more entirely than 
 she was. She charmed her domestics by wise in- 
 structions, and won them by her kindness. She 
 softened the afflictions of the unhappy by the share 
 she took in them, and guided those who were ig- 
 norant. It was easy for her to reward, and hard to 
 punish ; yet when circumstances required, she 
 showed a firmness which the importunity of others, 
 and even her own native tenderness, could not 
 shake. She possessed a sincerity, which convinced 
 every one that all about her was uniform and con- 
 sistent. 
 
 She never borrowed assistance from art, or cov- 
 ered her designs with flattering expressions ; and 
 when she did not intend to promise, took care to ex- 
 plain her meaning so clearly, that none might in- 
 dulge ungrounded expectations. And such was the 
 strictness of her integrity, that during a period of
 
 MARY SECOND. 157 
 
 many years no explanation was necessary lo justify 
 either a word or action. The frankness of her 
 mind and conduct was guarded by the strictest dis- 
 cretion. Those who knew her best, and saw her 
 most frequently, could never discover her thoughts 
 or intentions farther than she chose. No change 
 of countenance drew any thing from her which 
 she did not mean to impart ; and this reserve was 
 demanded by her exalted station, and the momen- 
 tous affairs in which she was daily conversant. 
 She was remarkably free from pride, vanity and 
 passion. Her serene countenance was a crystal 
 which discovered the serenity within. Her breast 
 was like some pure stream, unruffled by the lightest 
 breeze. The modesty and sanctity of her mind 
 were so undissembled, that impurity shrank from 
 her presence. No natural defects, or faults of cha- 
 racter, were ever the subjects of her mirth ; she 
 thought it cruel and barbarous to be merry at the 
 misfortunes or follies of others. She was pleased 
 with Archbishop Tillotson's sermon against Evil- 
 Speaking, and when she thought any were inclined 
 to detraction, would delicately reprove them by in- 
 quiring if they had ever read it. 
 
 As she uttered no calumnies herself, she was re- 
 markably exempt from those of others, and on be- 
 ing reminded of this felicity, meekly replied, ** I 
 ascribe it wholly to the goodness of God ; for I 
 doubt not that many fall under severe censures who 
 deserve them as little." What is good, and what 
 is great in human nature, were so equally blended, 
 and shone so brightly in her, that it is difficult to say 
 for which she was most remarkable. She was dis- 
 tinguished for clearness of apprehension, exactness 
 13*
 
 158 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 of memory, solidity of judgment, and correctness 
 of expression. She discovered superior genius, 
 and felicity of imagination, even when conversing 
 on common subjects. 
 
 She read the best authors, in English, Dutch, and 
 French, three languages which were equally famil- 
 iar to her. She gave most of her hours to the study 
 of the Scriptures, and books connected with them, 
 and thus acquired an extensive knowledge of Divi- 
 nity. Next to this, Modern History, especially 
 that of her own country, engaged much of her at- 
 tention. Of Poetry she was at once a lover and a 
 judge ; and liked it best when devoted to the best 
 subjects. She acquainted herself with Natural 
 History, and Drawing in Perspective ; was accu- 
 rate in Geography, and acquired a knowledge of 
 Mathematics and Philosophy. Her proficiency 
 was remarkable, considering the great weakness of 
 her eyes, and the many hours she spent in her 
 closet. For fashionable amusements she had no 
 relish ; her favorite entertainments were Gardening 
 and Architecture, in which she gave considerable 
 indulgence to her taste. She sometimes feared 
 these had engrossed too much of her attention, and 
 would say, " yet as they have employed many 
 hands which might otherwise have been idle, I hope 
 I may be forgiven." 
 
 Thus amiable as a private character, if we view 
 her as a queen, she will shine with additional lustre. 
 Few ever possessed so great a capacity for govern- 
 ment, with so little inclination to exercise it. Yet 
 what she reluctantly assumed, and cheerfully relin- 
 quished, she managed with the greatest skill and 
 propriety. Called often, by the absence of the
 
 MARY SECOND. 159 
 
 king, to preside in the administration, she ruled in 
 a manner worthy of herself; governing the affec- 
 tions of the people, and erecting her throne in their 
 hearts. She was gentle in commanding, cau- 
 tious in promising, generous in rewarding, pa- 
 tient in her audiences, and indefatigable in her at- 
 tentions to the complicated concerns of govern- 
 ment. That nothing might be done in haste, the 
 day was early begun, that without shortening her 
 devotions she might attend to every small as well 
 as great concern, and maintain the customary cere- 
 monies, and cheerfulness of a court. Where con- 
 science clearly decided a duty, she was firm and im- 
 movable ; and while her amiable conduct disarmed 
 the greater part of her enemies, her wisdom and se- 
 cresy effectually defeated the designs of the few who 
 remained inveterate. 
 
 When visible danger presented, her firmness of 
 mind and conduct were truly remarkable. Invasion 
 was expected from France, in the early part of her 
 reign, and while her husband was contending in a 
 distant place, she resolved if they should put their 
 threats in execution, to take the head of her armies, 
 and either save her people, or perish with them. 
 The first exercise of royal power must have been 
 painful indeed. Her father, at the he?ul of a for- 
 midable army, approached to claim his abdicated 
 throne ; her husband went forth to oppose him, and 
 she, encumbered with the weight of government, 
 remained in suspense whether to bemoan the death 
 of a husband or a father whether to see the in- 
 terests of the Protestant religion flourish, or to fly 
 herself before the scourge of the Papists. To 
 preserve the life of cither, she said, she would wil- 
 lingly sacrifice her own.
 
 160 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 During this state of torturing suspense, she 
 trusted in an arm of Almighty strength, and night 
 and day her prayers ascended before the Most 
 High. When she was at length informed of her 
 husband's victory at the Boyne, and that her father 
 though defeated was safe, she gave free vent to her 
 tears, and exclaimed " My heart has not trembled 
 at my own danger, so much as at the thought of the 
 scene acted at the Boyne ; but God has heard my 
 prayers, and I bless him for it, with as sensible a 
 joy as I ever knew." She was repeatedly in the 
 administration in very troublesome times, when 
 wars and invasions called William to the field ; and 
 she always said that her inquietudes were soothed 
 and tranquillized by prayer. In her brightest sea- 
 sons she grew not secure or unmindful of her de- 
 pendance on God. The pleasures of a court had 
 little place in her heart, and she maintained an ha- 
 bitual indifference to them. 
 
 In the conjugal relation she was uniformly ex- 
 emplary. The king possessed her highest affec- 
 tion and confidence, and whether present or absent 
 was borne upon her prayers. A collection of let- 
 ters written to him while he was engaged in the 
 wars of Ireland, are still preserved, and exhibit her 
 in an interesting and amiable light. They amount 
 to the number of thirty-seven in three months, and 
 prove that she must have been economical of her 
 time, to write so much and so frequently, amidst her 
 studies, her devotions, and the innumerable cares 
 of a great nation. " She was," says Bishop Bur- 
 net, " so tender and respectful a wife, that she seem- 
 ed to go beyond the most perfect 'idea to which in- 
 vention has been able to rise. The lowest condi-
 
 MARY SECOND. 161 
 
 tion of life, or the greatest inequality of fortune, 
 has not afforded a more complete pattern. Ten- 
 derness and complacency seemed to strive which 
 should be the most eminent. She had no higher 
 satisfaction in the greatness that, descended upon 
 her, than that it gave her an occasion of making her 
 husband a present worthy of himself. ]\or had 
 crowns or thrones any charm so pleasant to her, as 
 that they raised him to a greatness which he so 
 well deserved, and could so well maintain. She 
 was all zeal and rapture when anything was to be 
 done that could express either affection or respect 
 to him." 
 
 During casual indisposition, and even in health, 
 it was customary for this excellent queen to medi- 
 tate upon death and prepare for it ; and the tran- 
 quillity which she had felt at its distant view, did 
 not vanish when it indeed approached. Amid the 
 sighs and tears of all around her, she was serene 
 and peaceful. So high did she rise above mortality, 
 that even her husband, who was more to her than all 
 the world beside, could not inspire her with any 
 desire of returning back to life. In that hour when 
 the most artificial grow sincere, when hypocrisy 
 drops its mask, and discloses the soul to view, it 
 appeared how sincere and sublime was her piety. 
 " I have been instructed," said she, " how very 
 hazardous it is to rely upon a death bed repentance ; 
 I am not now to begin the great work of preparing 
 for death, and I praise God I am not afraid of it." 
 She added that she experienced the joys of a good 
 conscience, and the power of religion giving her 
 supports, which not even the last agonies could 
 shake.
 
 162 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 She seemed 1o have nothing left to be arranged 
 in her last hours. Her mind was free from anxie- 
 ties of every kind, and calm as the still, small voice 
 which seemed to be calling her soul away to the 
 regions above. An entire resignation to the will 
 of God, and a willingness to be dissolved, did not 
 forsake her for a moment. Her gentleness and 
 tender attentions to all about her were still eminent. 
 While she was awake her most delightful exercise 
 was prayer ; and so sensible a refreshment did she 
 find in it, that she said it gave her more ease than 
 any thing which was done for her. Nature sank 
 rapidly. She received the sacrament with a devo- 
 tion which at once animated and melted all who 
 were present. That being over she seemed on the 
 wing ; and gave herself up so entirely to medita- 
 tion as scarcely to regard any thing earthly. Hea- 
 ven blessed her with a dismission so easy, that she 
 would scarce have known herself to be sick, but 
 by what was done for her. Thus she put off mor- 
 ality and in the thirty-second year of her age passed 
 from an earthly to an incorruptible crown. 
 
 The distress of King William during her sick- 
 ness, astonished those who knew the firmness of 
 his mind, and the steadiness of his disposition. He 
 was frequently in an agony of grief, fainting often, 
 till there appeared to be no life in him, then recov- 
 ering and bursting into violent lamentations. The 
 third day of her illness, he called Bishop Burnet 
 into his closet. Bursting into tears he cried out, 
 " There is no hope of the queen : and 1 from the 
 happiest am going to be the most miserable man 
 on earth. During the whole course of our mar- 
 riage I have never seen a single fault in her, and
 
 MAilY SECOND. 163 
 
 she possesses worth which no one knows fully beside 
 myself." When she died, his spirit sunk so low, 
 that there was great reason to fear he was following 
 her ; and for several weeks he was so little master 
 of himself as to be incapable of attending to busi- 
 ness, or seeing company. When Dr. Tennison 
 went to comfort the mourning monarch, he answer- 
 ed, " I cannot but grieve ; for I have lost a wife 
 who for seventeen years was never guilty of an 
 indiscretion." 
 
 From the many elegies which this mournful event 
 called forth, I select two stanzas from an ode writ- 
 ten by the poet Prior, and presented to King Wil- 
 liam : * 
 
 For her the wise and great shall mourn, 
 When late records her deeds repeat ; 
 Ages to come and men unborn 
 Shall Mi'.-,.-; her name, and sigh her fate. 
 
 Fair Albion shall with faithful trust 
 Her holy queen's sad relics guard, 
 Till heaven awakes the precious dust 
 And gives the saint her lull reward.
 
 JOHN HARVEY. 
 
 JOHN HARVEY, was the son of a Dutch merchant 
 resident in London, born in the year 
 1664. 1664, and piously educated. \Vhen 
 very young, he began to speak plain, 
 and with as much judgment d's children usually do 
 at five years old ; yet his parents, considering him 
 too much of an infant to attend school, restrained 
 him from it, greatly against his inclination. But 
 before he was three years of age, and while they 
 supposed him engaged in his little sports near the 
 house, he discovered a school house in the neigh- 
 borhood, went without the knowledge of his parents, 
 and entreated the teacher to accept him as a scholar. 
 He attended to instruction with so much diligence 
 and gravity, that he was soon able to read with 
 propriety, and made an astonishing progress in the 
 common branches of learning, before most children 
 are masters of their alphabet. 
 
 This extraordinary child* would frequently ask 
 very serious questions respecting his soul and the 
 eternal state, and was very careful not to do any- 
 thing which he supposed was displeasing lo God. 
 Perceiving his mother to be much sunk in sorrow at 
 the death of a beloved brother; he came to her and 
 said, " Though my uncle is dead, do not the Scrip-
 
 JOHN HARVEY. 165 
 
 lures say he must rise again? I must die ; and so 
 must every body : yet it cannot be long before Christ 
 shall come to judge the world, and then we shall see 
 one another again. 1 pray you, mother, do not 
 weep so much." The astonished mourner sat 
 silently reflecting on his words, and found for a 
 time, her deep anguish for her brother changed 
 into admiration of her child. One day, seeing one 
 of his relations come into his father's house, rather 
 intoxicated as he supposed, he went directly to him, 
 weeping bitterly, and begged him earnestly not to 
 spend his time in such sinful courses, which injured 
 his own soul, and oflended his God. 
 
 When he was in company with other children, he 
 would admonish them of their duty, and warn them 
 against sinning with their tongues ; but he delighted 
 greatly in the society of learned and pious men, and 
 they observed that his conversation was not like 
 that of a child, so much as of a scholar and a 
 Christian. He was strict in the observance of the 
 Sabbath ; frequent and constant in the duty of secret 
 prayer, and would sometimes continue on his knees 
 for a whole hour. Though he endeavored to be 
 entirely concealed in his seasons of devotion, a 
 friend who noticed the regularity of his retirement, 
 and was anxious to know what such a child could 
 make the subject of his petitions, drew near unob- 
 served, and heard him praying very earnestly, for 
 the welfare of the church of God, that the gospel 
 might spread over the whole world, and (hat divine 
 grace might be more abundant in the hearts of 
 Christians. 
 
 He was a very humble, modest child, entirely 
 above the vanities of dress, contented with plain. 
 14
 
 166 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 or mean diet, and very careful never to eat without 
 devoutly entreating the blessing of God. He was 
 compassionate and charitable to all in distress, 
 wherever he could find them. There was once a 
 Turk brought providentially into the place where he 
 lived, and his mind was so exercised in pity for him, 
 that he took no rest till he had found a person who 
 understood his language, and brought them together. 
 The first thing he requested of his friend, was to 
 inquire of him if he acknowledged a Deity, to which 
 he answered that he did. "Ask him," said the 
 child, " what he thinks of our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 At this question the Turk was troubled, avoided 
 discourse, and complained that he was thirsty and 
 hungry. The compassionate boy immediately ran 
 to a neighboring house and begged some food, and 
 then to a brew-house, entreating the master to give 
 him a cup of beer, " For, sir," said he, " here is a 
 poor stranger athirst ; we know not where we may 
 be cast before we die." 
 
 His family hearing of the circumstances reproved 
 him ; " I did it," said he, " for a poor stranger, and 
 I did it, also, that he might think the better of 
 Christians, and of the Christian religion." This 
 extraordinary child blended with his piety, an ardent 
 love of literature, made great progress at the Latin 
 school, and was much beloved by his instructors. 
 When he was eleven years of age his eldest sister 
 was taken ill of an infectious distemper, and while 
 they were praying for her he would weep and sob 
 bitterly ; but when she died he said, " The will of the 
 Lord be done. Blessed be his luyne. My dear 
 mother, you must submit yourself us David did." 
 As if he had a -premonition of his own dcuth, he
 
 JOHN HARVEY. 167 
 
 spent all his time in religious exercises, in reading 
 the Bible, and " Saints' Everlasting rest," and writ- 
 ing pious meditations. 
 
 Fourteen days after the death of his sister, he 
 was attacked with the same disease, and bore his 
 pains hot only with patience, but cheerfulness ; " for 
 I am assured," said he, " that my sins are pardoned, 
 and that I shall go to heaven." As he lay in the 
 agonies of death, he was troubled at the turbulence 
 of his mother's grief: "know you not," said he, 
 " that this is the hand of the Almighty ? Humble 
 yourself before him, and bow in submission to his 
 will;" and then raising himself up, bowed lowly, 
 and went to his everlasting rest, at the age of eleven 
 years and nine months.
 
 DR. HERMAN BOERIIAAVE. 
 
 HERMAN BOERHAAVE, one of the most illustrious 
 physicians that the world ever produced, was the 
 son of a clergyman at Veerhont, a 
 1668. small village near Leyden, in Holland, 
 and . born on the 31st of December, 
 1668. At the age of 14 he was sent to the public 
 school of Leyden, and such was his astonishing 
 proficiency, that at the conclusion of the year, when 
 he was scarcely 15, he became a distinguished mejn- 
 ber of the highest class, which after six months stu- 
 dy is allowed to pass to the University. About the 
 time of his admission to that seminary, a dark shade 
 was cast over his prospects, by the death of his fa- 
 ther, who left a numerous family in reduced circum- 
 stances. At this early age he found himself sur- 
 rounded with the perplexities of life, without parents, 
 protection, advice or fortune. But the care of Di- 
 vine Providence supported and encouraged him in 
 his difficulties, and carried him successfully through 
 the period of his education. 
 
 His proficiency in the different branches of sci- 
 ence was admired by all ; and when he took his 
 degree in philosophy, he exhibited a thesis in oppo- 
 sition to the erroneous systems of Epicurus, I lob- 
 bes, and Spinoza, which greatly raised his reputa-
 
 DR. HERMAN BOERHAAVE. 169 
 
 lion for piety and erudition. After laying a solid 
 foundation in all other parts of learning, he proceed- 
 ed to the study of divinity under two celebrated pro- 
 fessors, one of whom gave lectures on Hebrew 
 antiquities, the other on ecclesiastical history. Above 
 all he diligently applied himself to the study of the 
 Scriptures in their original languages, with their in- 
 terpretation by all the ancient writers, whom he read 
 in chronological order, beginning with Clemens Ro- 
 manus. \Vith these pursuits he mingled the study 
 of nature, and the whole range of the science of 
 medicine, and in this he found a lucrative and hon- 
 orable employment, when unfavorable circumstan- 
 ces prevented him from embracing the clerical pro- 
 fession, to which his inclination led him. Some 
 time after leaving the university he had to contend 
 with the evils of poverty, and was obliged to become 
 a teacher of mathematics to procure the necessa- 
 ries of life. 
 
 But though his labors at that time could hardly 
 gain a subsistence, yet when his merits as a physi- 
 cian became known, he found wealth flowing in upon 
 him like a flood, and at the time of his death left a 
 fortune of more than , 200,000, as a monument of 
 what honest and well directed industry can perform. 
 He received the employments of Professor of Che- 
 mistry, Professor of Botany, and Professor of Medi- 
 cine in the university of Leyden, and his reputation 
 began to spread over all Europe. The Royal So- 
 ciety of London, and the Academy of Sciences at 
 Paris elected him an honorary member of their res- 
 pective bodies, and the city of Leyden, through his 
 instructions, became the school of Europe for med- 
 icine, botany, and the natural sciences. All the 
 14*
 
 170 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 European princes committed pupils to his care, who 
 found in this skilful professor, .an indefatigable 
 teacher, and a tender friend, encouraging them in 
 labor, consoling them under affliction, and relieving 
 them in their necessities. 
 
 When Peter the Great, in 1715, went to Holland 
 to perfect himself in maritime affairs, he attended 
 the lectiiWv of Boerhaave, and, as a pupil, received 
 hislr.SM i;.-:. His reputation spread over Asia, and 
 the e'tisK,Tii nations, and so well was his name known 
 in those distant regions, that a letter written to him 
 from a mandarine in China, with this inscription, 
 " To the illustrious Boerhaave, physician in Eu- 
 rope," came regularly to him without mistake or de- 
 lay. Amidst all his honors he retained an humble 
 estimation of himself, and united to an uncommon 
 genius, and extraordinary talents, those qualities of 
 the heart which render them valuable to society. 
 
 The activity of his mind sparkled in his eyes, his 
 appearance was simple and unassuming, and when 
 deep study and age had changed the color of his 
 hair he was particularly noticed for that venerable 
 aspect which prepossesses affection, and confirms 
 reverence. He was an eloquent orator, and de- 
 claimed with dignity and grace : he taught very me- 
 thodically and with great precision, and his auditors 
 always regretted that his discourses were so soon 
 finished. He would sometimes give them an infu- 
 sion of raillery, but it was refined and ingenious ; 
 and enlivened the subject, without sarcasm or sever- 
 ity. 
 
 He was a declared foe to all excess, yet not 
 austere, but cheerful and desirous of promoting eve- 
 ry valuable purpose ef conversation ; communica-
 
 DR. HERMAN BOERHAAVE. 171 
 
 live, yet modest ; in contending for the truth, zeal- 
 ous, though dispassionate ; in friendship, sincere 
 constant affectionate ; in every situation and rela- 
 tion of life, virtuous ; and it may be confidently 
 affirmed, that no man in a private station ever at- 
 tracted more universal esteem. At the age of 42 
 he married the only daughter of the burgomaster of 
 Leyden, and amidst all his domestic and professional 
 avocations found time to compose a number of liter- 
 ary works. Surprising accounts have been given 
 of his sagacity and penetration in the exercise of 
 the healing art ; yet he was very far from a presump- 
 tous confidence in his skill, or arrogance at his su- 
 periority of success. 
 
 He was diligent in his profession, condescending 
 to all, and wholly free from that pride and vanity 
 which wealth sometimes excites in weak minds. He 
 used often to remark that " the life of a patient, if 
 trifled with or neglected, would one day be required 
 at the hand of the physician." His benevolence 
 led him to the care of those who were too poor to 
 compensate him. " These," he would say, " are my 
 best patients, for God is their paymaster." He was 
 an eminent example of temperance, of fortitude, of 
 humility and devotion. His piety, with a religious 
 sense of his dependence upon God, was the basis 
 of all his virtues, and the moving principle of his 
 whole conduct. He was too sensible how deeply 
 he partook of the weakness of human nature to 
 ascribe any good thing to himself, or to conceive he 
 could conquer his passions or vanquish temptation 
 by his own unassisted power. He attributed every 
 good thought and laudable action to the Author of 
 all goodness. So deep was his conviction of the
 
 172 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 depravity of his nature, and so profound his humil- 
 ity, that when he heard of any criminal condemned 
 to die, he would say, " who can tell whether this man 
 is not better than 1 1 or if I am better it is not to be 
 ascribed to myself, but to the goodness of God." 
 
 The charity and benevolence so conspicuous in 
 his whole life were derived from a supreme regard 
 to religion. It was his daily practice all his life, as 
 soon as he arose in the morning, which was gener- 
 ally very early, to retire an hour for private prayer 
 and meditation on parts of the Scripture. When 
 his friends inquired how it was possible for him to 
 support the fatigues of his active profession, he 
 would answer that " it was his morning hour of med- 
 itation and prayer that gave him spirit and vigor in 
 the business of the day." He recommended this 
 practice to others, as the best rule he could give 
 them ; " for nothing," he would say, " conduces more 
 to health of body and tranquillity of mind, and I 
 know nothing which can support me or my fellow 
 creatures, amidst the various distresses of life, but a 
 well grounded confidence in the Supreme Being, 
 upon the principles of Christianity. He made the 
 excellence of the Christian Religion the frequent 
 subject of his conversation, and asserted on all 
 proper occasions the divine origin and efficacy of 
 the Scriptures. He recommended to his friends a 
 careful observation of the precept of Moses con- 
 cerning the love of God and man ; and affirmed 
 that a strict obedience to the doctrines, and a diligent 
 imitation of the examples of our blessed Saviour, 
 were the foundation of all true happiness. lie for- 
 med his ideas of God from what he had revealed of 
 himself in his word, and paid an absolute submi.s-
 
 DR. HERMAN BOERHAAVE. 173 
 
 sion to his will, without endeavoring to search out 
 the reason of his determinations ; and this he con- 
 sidered as the first and most inviolable duty of a 
 Christian. His literary, moral, and religious excel- 
 lence of character, could not exempt him from ene- 
 mies ; but he never regarded calumny or detraction. 
 He said " the surest remedy against scandal, was to 
 live it down by perseverence in well doing, and by 
 prayer to God to cure the distempered minds of 
 those who traduce or injure us." A friend who had 
 often admired his patience under great provocations, 
 inquired by what means he had so entirely suppres- 
 sed the impetuous passion of anger ; he answered 
 with the greatest frankness and sincerity, " I am nat- 
 urally full of resentment, but by daily prayer and 
 meditation have at length attained this command 
 over my passions." 
 
 In his last illness, which was extremely lingering, 
 painful and afflictive, his constancy and firmness 
 djd not forsake him. He neither intermitted the 
 necessary care of life, or forgot the serious prepa- 
 ration for death. Three weeks before his dissolu- 
 tion, when a most learned and exemplary divine vis- 
 ited him at his country house, he requested to join 
 with him in prayer, and afterward entered into deep 
 and interesting discourse upon the spiritual and im- 
 material nature of the soul, which he perspicuously 
 illustrated by describing the effects that the infirmi- 
 ties of the body had upon his faculties, which they 
 did not oppress or vanquish, but his soul was al- 
 ways master of itself, always resigned to the pleas- 
 ure of its Maker ; adding, " he who loves God, 
 ought to think nothing desirable, but what is most 
 pleasing to the supreme goodness."
 
 174 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 These sentiments were demonstrated by his con- 
 duct ; as death approached nearer, he was so fur 
 from terror or contusion, that he seemed more cheer- 
 ful and less sensible of pain. He died on the 25th 
 September, 1738, in the seventieth year of his age ; 
 much honored beloved and lamented. His funeral 
 oration was spoken in Latin at the university of Ley- 
 den before a very numerous audience, and his works 
 afterwards published in 5 large quarto volumes. 
 The city of Leyden erected a monument to this 
 illustrious man, an urn and pedestal of marble, 
 bearing many emblematical devices, surmounted 
 with a medallion of him whom it commemorated, 
 encircled with his own favorite and expressive mot- 
 to, " Truth unarrayed,"
 
 DR. SAMUEL BEfflON. 
 
 SAMUEL BENIGN was born at a small parish, in 
 
 the county of Salop (Eng.) on the 14th of June, 
 
 1673. His parents were religious people 
 
 1673. of competent estate; he was their eldest 
 son, and bore the name of Samuel, because 
 he was asked of God, and devoted to his service. 
 He discovered early indications of genius and piety, 
 which were cultivated first at the grammar school of 
 Whieksal, and afterwards at the academy of Wirks- 
 worth, under the tuition of Mr. S. Ogden, a man of 
 great learning and virtue. He was there the darling 
 both of the school and town, for his sweetness of tem- 
 per, piety, ingenuity, and readiness to oblige all who 
 came in his way ; and his situation and studies 
 were so delightful to him, that lie continued there 
 till he reached his eighteenth year. This was a 
 much longer period than youths of his proficiency 
 usually spend at the grammar school, but he thus 
 gained intimate acquaintance with the classics, ren- 
 dered his future studies more easy and pleasant, 
 and acquired the power of speaking and writing 
 Latin, with great fluency, propriety and beauty. 
 
 ^Vhen he first entered that school, in early youth, 
 his parents, after his departure, found a paper, ex- 
 pressing great thankfulness for the care of his edu-
 
 176 BIOGRAPHY OK PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 cation, requesting their prayers for him, and bogging 
 that they would not indulge too strong an affection 
 for him, or in case of his sickness or death, mourn 
 for him as those who have no hope ; for he knew that 
 whether living or dying, it would be well with him. 
 When he had finished his term at the grammar 
 school, and was about to return home, his instruc- 
 tor wept much to part with him, and expressed a 
 fear that his school would suffer for the loss of his 
 example. 
 
 He was afterwards entered a student at the col- 
 lege at Glasgow, in Scotland, having two young 
 gentlemen under his care. Here he applied him- 
 self with incredible attention, and frequently stu- 
 died sixteen hours in a day, subsisting upon a little 
 food that was brought him to the study. He was 
 universally respected at Glasgow, for his great learn- 
 ing, diligence, and serious deportment ; and when he 
 took his first degree, the Senate of the university hon- 
 ored him with the Presidency of all who were lauria- 
 ted that year ; a dignity seldom conferred upon any 
 but their own natives. At the expiration of hit- 
 term, the regents courted his stay, and promised 
 him preferment ; but no motive of gain or ambition 
 could longer detain him from his father's house, 
 where his coming was waited with the ardent ex- 
 pectancy of joy, and his presence diffused serenity 
 and happiness. 
 
 However he might have shone as an academi- 
 cian, nothing could eclipse the excellence of his 
 character as a son. In his looks, words and ac- 
 tions, he seemed to study to express affection and 
 respect to his parents ; and in his conduct to his 
 brothers and sisters, you might trace fraternal ten-
 
 DR. SAMUEL BENIGN. 177 
 
 derness mingled with the care of a father. He had 
 calculated to devote more time to his studies, in the 
 delightful recess of his parental abode, but was 
 incessantly importuned by a neighboring congre- 
 gation to supply the place of their deceased pas- 
 tor. Being then but twenty-three, it was more 
 consonant to his inclinations, to study for a time, 
 than to preach, and he said he " trembled to think 
 of supplying the pulpit of so great a man as Mr. 
 Philip Henry ;" and when repeated solicitation 
 at length vanquished his diffidence, he selected for 
 his text the expostulation of Jeremiah, " Ah Lord 
 God, behold I cannot speak, for 1 am a child." 
 
 He supported the clerical character with dignity 
 and propriety, and his performances called forth 
 admiration, while they imparted instruction. lie 
 had a fluency of thought and expression, and was 
 lively, fervent and methodical in preaching, prayer, 
 and the administration of ordinances. In cate- 
 chising the children every Lord's day, he was exact, 
 and often successful in impressing their minds 
 with the truths that he taught them. Every part 
 of the work gave him pleasure, and he used to say 
 that " he preferred the delight he enjoyed in pray- 
 ing and preaching, to all the entertainments and 
 gratifications of sense." 
 
 His humility led him to estimate slightly his own 
 performances, and when any one commended his 
 management of the public exercises of his function, 
 he would answer, " that it might have been better 
 executed by himself, and far better by another per- 
 son, and that he never left the pulpit without trem- 
 bling to think how poorly he had performed his 
 duty." 
 
 15
 
 178 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 In his childhood his genius led him strongly to the 
 practice of physic, and of his own accord he stored 
 his memory with medicinal recipes, which he often 
 showed ingenuity in applying. Afterwards, as op- 
 portunity offered, he paid some attention both to its 
 theory and practice, that he might be useful to his 
 poor neighbors ; and his reputation in that line fur- 
 nished him with more business than he desired. In 
 the year 1703, being at Glasgow, he was publicly 
 examined in his professional knowledge by a con- 
 vocation of the heads of the college, from whom he 
 received great respect, high testimony of his judg- 
 ment and accuracy, and an honorary degree of Doc- 
 tor of Medicine. 
 
 In the practice of the healing art, he was uncom- 
 monly successful, and some of the most celebrated 
 physicians of that day, have acknowledged him to 
 be " one of the most ingenious men, with whom 
 they had ever held professional consultation." He 
 soon found, however, that this business fatigued 
 both body and mind, and would gladly have discon- 
 tinued it, but some would make use of no other 
 physician, and his conscience would not suffor him 
 to withhold advice from those who were in prnury 
 or distress. To the poor he gave gratuitously, both 
 attendance and medicine ; and thus found many 
 favorable opportunities of counselling, comforting 
 and praying with them. He could not rest satisfied 
 to prescribe for the body, and leave the soul un- 
 warned of its danger ; and like Luke the evange- 
 list, he was indeed " a beloved physician/' 
 
 His active benevolence induced him also to 
 distribute Bibles and good books to the poor, with a 
 request to read them diligently ; and yearly to give
 
 DR. SAMUEL BENIGN. 179 
 
 money to a good man in the neighborhood, to teach 
 a number of poor children to read, with a strict 
 charge that none should know who paid him this 
 annuity. To this kind and charitable disposition, 
 he united a spirit of moderation toward all who dif- 
 fered from him in sentiment, and an habitual care to 
 give pain or offence to no man. 
 
 In the year 1703, he married Miss Grace Yates, 
 whose natural and acquired endowments were con- 
 genial to his taste, and whose tenderness shed a new 
 charm over his days. 
 
 When his friends observed his great diligence 
 in study, exemplary life, and happy talent of im- 
 parting knowledge, they were desirous that their 
 sons should derive the benefit of such example 
 and instructions, and he at length complied with 
 their solicitations. Finding many sources of pleas- 
 ure from the employment, he consented to enlarge 
 his number, and soon formed and regulated an acad- 
 emy of thirty students. It was the opinion of ma- 
 ny that his chief excellency lay in this sphere, for 
 Nature seemed to have formed him for a tutor of 
 the highest grade of superiority. He had in his 
 form, a mixture of grace and dignity, in his counte- 
 nance, gravity and sweetness, in his deportment, 
 majesty, tempered with mildness. His first appear- 
 ance was prepossessing, and while a more intimate 
 acquaintance unfolded properties tp conciliate affec- 
 tion, it exhibited nothing to destroy respect or reve- 
 rence. His voice was clear and commanding, and 
 heightened the effect of whatever he pronounced, 
 while deep classical knowledge, and a reflecting 
 mind, qualified him to dictate, or to argue upon eve- 
 ry necessary subject with accuracy and eloquence.
 
 180 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 He gave lectures to his pupils in their several 
 classes every day ; and so enlivened the abstruse 
 parts of science, by his interesting manner of ex- 
 plaining and applying them, that his students declar- 
 ed, that if he was sometimes long he was never 
 tedious : He delivered many extempore lectures, 
 both in Latin and English, on some of the most in- 
 tricate points of Philosophy, and such was his quick- 
 ness of thought and lelicity of expression, that 
 they were considered scarcely inferior to his studied 
 performances. He composed, for the use of his 
 academy, a comprehensive system of Logic, Meta- 
 physics, Mathematics, and Ethics ; for his genius 
 led him to abstract speculations. 
 
 These branches of Philosophy he understood in 
 their depths and refinements, and particularly in 
 the departmentof Pneumatics, was making great pro- 
 gress at the time of his death, as if his close appli- 
 cation to the nature of spirits, was a presage of 
 of his own near approach to the world of sjnrits. 
 He recommended to his pupils the study of pure 
 mathematics, as one highly favorable to internal 
 order, patience and perseverance, and well calcu- 
 lated to invigorate the mind, by giving to its re- 
 searches the certainty of demonstration. 
 
 He was master of the theory of Natural Phi- 
 losophy, and acquainted with its modern dicoveries 
 and improvements. In comparing opposite schemes 
 and hypotheses, he divested himself of all partiality, 
 and taught his pupils to preserve freedom of thought, 
 that they might search for truth uninfluenced by 
 prejudice. 
 
 In Theology, he formed his opinions from the 
 Scriptures alone, and not from the doctrines of any
 
 DR. SAMUEL BENIGN. 181 
 
 particular sect Genuine expositions of that perfect 
 system, he considered as the best divinity lectures 
 he could read, and invited his students to examine 
 his opinions, and receive them only as far as they 
 were consistent with the word of God. Yet while 
 he encouraged freedom of thought and investigation, 
 he took great care to fortify their minds with the 
 first principles of religion, as the best security 
 against scepticism and bigotry. 
 
 He maintained a very strict and steady government 
 of his academy, and his sway was founded in rea- 
 son, and cemented with reverence and affection. 
 He taught his students to employ their morning 
 hours well, and to let nothing lead to the neglect of 
 regular and secret devotion. He excited them to 
 diligence in their hours of study, and while he al- 
 lowed them harmless, restrained them from unbe- 
 coming recreations. If any were remiss in their 
 studies, or careless in their conversation, he reasoned 
 with them plainly, but with tenderness. He had an ex- 
 cellent faculty, while they were discoursing together, 
 of introducing such subjects as led them to reprove 
 themselves, by their own remarks ; and they were 
 so sensible of it, as frequently to reform, without 
 causing him or themselves, the uneasiness of a 
 particular reproof. 
 
 But when circumstances required a close and 
 personal admonition, he gave it with an affecting 
 solemnity, not in anger, but in love, and so as to 
 convince the delinquent, that he delighted not to 
 shame him, but as " his beloved son he warned him." 
 The mildness and firmness of his expostulations, 
 would draw tears from those not apt to relent, while 
 the tears that trembled in his own eye, convinced 
 15*
 
 182 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 them that he was grieved for their misdemeanors. 
 These reproofs he followed with solemn prayer ; 
 and such a blessing attended his pious endeavors, 
 that although he had a large collection of young 
 men, of different habits, passions and pursuits, yet 
 an occasion very rarely occurred for a personal 
 reproof or admonition. 
 
 He was a shining example of serious piety, and 
 strove to excite and promote it in those under his 
 charge. His discourses on the necessity of holiness 
 had greater effect upon those to whom they were 
 addressed, because its own harmonizing influence 
 was visible in his life and conversation. He was 
 successful in spiritualizing common occurrences, 
 and when reading lectures to his scholars on the 
 works or the wonders of Nature, would lead them 
 by natural allusions to perceive and to adore the 
 God of Nature. He appeared superior to the little 
 vexations of life, as if he lived in a more calm and 
 undisturbed region, or as if his eye was fixed on 
 what he delighted to discourse upon, " things unseen 
 and eternal." Those who had no predilection for 
 serious subjects, were induced to listen attentively 
 to one, who addressed them with such affection, 
 and was to them as a father. " My dear charge," 
 he would address them, " if anything I can say 
 will be an instrument of advancing your good, I 
 have my aim ; or if anything I can do may promote 
 your eternal welfare, how happy shall I think 
 myself." 
 
 Upon those who were designed for the ministry, 
 and drawing near to that important work, he strove 
 to impress the necessity of solemn preparation, and 
 the danger of unfaithfulness to the souls committed
 
 DR. SAMUEL BENION. 183 
 
 to their charge, lie labored to instruct them 
 thoroughly in the original languages of the Scriptures, 
 and as they were in the habit of writing from memory 
 his daily expositions, he accustomed them once a 
 week to read what they had written, and by compar- 
 ing the different transcripts, and conversing with 
 freedom and seriousness, new ideas were often 
 suggested, and the whole engraved more deeply on 
 their minds. 
 
 Once a week, the divinity class, in their turns, 
 analyzed or expounded a portion of Scripture ; and 
 that they might exercise themselves in the gift of 
 prayer, the whole academy retired to the lecture 
 room after he had performed the evening worship of 
 the family, and one of their number performed, in 
 his turn, that solemn act of devotion, beside the 
 more retired service of every chamber, which they 
 were warned not to neglect. His house was 
 peculiarly a house of prayer, and all the members 
 of his family were taught its worth. 
 
 While he was thus attentive to their religious ex- 
 ercises, and solid studies, he omitted none of the 
 refinements and lighter graces of science. He had 
 slated times for their exercise in Oratory and Poetry, 
 and in all their compositions encouraged accuracy 
 of method, and elegance of language. He was 
 assiduous in regulating their elocution and pronun- 
 ciation, and at a particular time every week, habitu- 
 ated them to read passages from different authors, 
 and that he might perceive wherein they were de- 
 fective, and show them by his own example, the 
 proper tones, emphasis and pauses. His exertions 
 were generally acknowledged by his pupils, and 
 gratefully received. " Our tutor," writes one of
 
 184 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 them," understands the passions of the mind so 
 well, and has so great an art of managing tempers 
 so as to gain his point, that if he designed it, he 
 could easily send out flaming bigots to almost any 
 set of principles. But he is too much a Christian, 
 a gentleman, and a scholar, to be swallowed up by 
 the violence of any party. His aim is to make 
 men of sense and rational Christians ; and if we 
 fall short of this point, it will not be his fault." 
 
 Much of this excellence in the department of 
 education was imputed to his constant prayers for 
 divine assistance : for as he acknowledged God in 
 all his ways, he found him visibly directing his 
 paths. Though his students, forming part of his 
 family, had the privilege of joining in his devotions, 
 morning and evening, still he conceived it necessa- 
 ry, to begin and end their particular studies every 
 day with prayer, giving it as a reason " that there 
 were many petitions to be put up on their account, 
 in which the rest of the family were not interested." 
 
 When a new student entered his academy, he 
 prayed for him, and committed him and his stu- 
 dies to an Almighty Teacher : when any left his 
 care, he affectionately besought the divine bles- 
 sing for him, and when any were in trouble and 
 sickness, his tears and entreaties at the throne of 
 Grace, showed that his heart felt the solicitude of a 
 father. 
 
 Only three of all his great number of pupils, died 
 while under his care, and he was then seen to hum- 
 ble himself and to mourn, as for a first-born. Co- 
 vered with tears, he uttered, " Let me resign my- 
 self, and all that is dear to me, into the hand of 
 God. It is the Lord, let him do what he will.'*
 
 DR. SAMUEL BENIGN. 186 
 
 Beside his public funeral discourses on these mel- 
 ancholy occasions, he gave more private ones to the 
 academy, from the pathetic lamentation of Job, " He 
 came forth like a flower, and is cut down ;" from 
 the admonition of the wise man, " Remember the 
 days of darkness ;" and from the answer of the 
 mourning mother, in the 2d of Kings, " It is well." 
 A discourse of his, uttered after their return from 
 one of these funerals, on the happiness of heaven, 
 where there is neither parting or weeping, very 
 deeply affected the minds of his young men. 
 
 Soon after these afflictions, a most promising stu- 
 dent was taken ill of a malignant fever, and brought 
 to the gate of death. His physician had given him 
 up, and he seemed to be breathing his last, when 
 his tutor called together his companions to join in 
 prayer for him, and was observed to entreat ear- 
 nestly and repeatedly for his life, as one who could 
 not be denied, or as if the spirit of strong supplica- 
 tion rested upon his lips. At their return from the 
 lecture room, they found an astonishing change in 
 the dying youth, who 1 soon after recovered ; and 
 this striking circumstance was long preserved in 
 the memories of those who witnessed it. 
 
 But while he was thus active for the welfare of 
 others, and in the midst of life and usefulness, he 
 was attacked by a nervous fever which in a few 
 days terminated his career. The evening but one 
 before his death, he awoke from a kind of slumber, 
 a.s he sat in his chair, and observed that he had been 
 listening to some extraordinary music, that far ex- 
 celled all he had ever before heard. Perhaps this 
 was a prelude to that celestial symphony which he 
 was soon to join : perhaps this was to prepare
 
 186 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 his ear for the more perfect harmony of heaven. 
 The violence of disease produced occasional de- 
 rangement, but the night before his death he slept 
 so sweetly, that his anxious friends entertained 
 hopes of his recovery. 
 
 On March 4th, 1707, he awoke in an agony, and 
 in a few moments his soul and body were disunited. 
 He had lived 34 years, and in that short term com- 
 pleted more than many who live until past the usual 
 boundary of man. What a house of mourning 
 was made on that dismal night, it is difficult to con- 
 ceive and impossible to describe. Two aged pa- 
 rents, who viewed him as their stay, and their coun- 
 sellor, an affectionate wife, who had been but a few 
 years united to him, two infant sons, who knew not 
 why they wept, thirty students, who mourned as for 
 a father, a family, a church and a people, as sheep 
 without a shepherd. Few have had more tears 
 shed over them at their death, and none have better 
 deserved such tears.
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE. 
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE was born at Ilchester, Somerset 
 county, England, on the eleventh of 
 1674. September, 1674. Her father, Mr. 
 Walter Singer, was much esteemed for 
 his integrity, benevolence, and simplicity of man- 
 ners. His life was a constant course of kindness 
 to the unfortunate, and uniform piety ; and the 
 calmness and resignation of his death was a striking 
 instance of the power of religion, and the exalted 
 state of the human mind, when animated by the 
 consciousness of divine favor, and the prospect of 
 everlasting bliss. His wife was aUo a pattern of 
 virtue and piety, and they had the happiness of 
 seeing their two lovely daughters walking in their 
 steps, mutually and affectionately emulous in the 
 paths of knowledge and religion. But one of them, 
 as she entered her twentieth year, was smitten and 
 blasted, like some fair flower ; and the other, the 
 subject of these memoirs, passed along the path of 
 life, lonely and mourning for her companion. Per- 
 haps this loss deepened the religious impressions 
 that had remained upon her mind from childhood ; 
 for, blended with uncommon sprightliness of temper,, 
 was such a reverential awe of divine Majesty, as 
 disposed her to the most solemn acts of devotion.
 
 188 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 In the pursuit of knowledge she was very assidu- 
 ous ; medicine she understood, and practised the 
 healing art gratuitously among her indigent neigh- 
 bors, who viewed her as a guardian angel. The 
 more refined branches of science she easily acquired. 
 The French and Italian languages were familiar to 
 her : painting, music, and poetry, she practised from 
 a child ; but her love for the latter so predomi- 
 nated, that it was her principal amusement, and at 
 the age of twenty-two she published a volume of 
 her effusions. But her uncommon accomplishments, 
 and attainments, were still interior to her sweetness 
 of disposition, delicacy of manners, and unaffected 
 goodness of heart. 
 
 In the year 1710, she was united to Mr. Thomas 
 Rowe, a man of great personal accomplishments, 
 and literary endowments, and susceptible of that 
 delicate and sublime attachment which the perfec- 
 tions of his consort were calculated to inspire and 
 to maintain. But their connubial happiness was 
 allayed by his declining health, and destroyed by his 
 premature death, in the fifth year of their marriage, 
 when he had just entered his 28th year. After his 
 decease, his amiable consort retired to a secluded 
 estate in Frome, Somersetshire, to enjoy that soli- 
 tude, and those intellectual pursuits that she loved. 
 Here she composed her " Friendship in Death," 
 with a desire to impress the belief of the soul's 
 immortality, to make it familiar with the thought of 
 future existence, and lead it to contract an habitual 
 persuasion of it, through the medium of the imagi- 
 nation and affections. With these were connected 
 her " Letters, moral and entertaining," whose design 
 is, by presenting lictitious examples of disinterested
 
 ELIZABETH ROW E. 189 
 
 benevolence, and inflexible virtue, to animate the 
 reader to practise whatever tends to ennoble human 
 nature, or promote the happiness of mankind ; and 
 by portraying images of horror, and characters 
 disgusting in themselves, to deter the young and 
 unwary from pursuits that embitter present life, and 
 endanger the happiness of the future. 
 
 In 1736, her "History of Joseph," was published, 
 consisting of ten books ; and so rapidly did she 
 write, that the two last books were composed and 
 perfected in three or four days. Mrs. Rowe was 
 blessed with an excellent constitution, which her 
 studies, her affections, and a long series of years 
 had but little impaired, till some time in the year 
 1736 she was attacked by sickness, which her friends 
 feared would prove fatal. On this trying occasion, 
 she confessed that she did not feel herself entirely 
 free from alarm ; yet when she had deeply reflected 
 on the mercy of God, through the mediation of a 
 Redeemer, she found such confidence, satisfaction, 
 and transport, that she said with tears of joy, " she 
 knew not that she had ever felt the like in all her 
 life," and repeated to her surrounding friends, the 
 " Dying Christian" of Pope, with exquisite feeling, 
 and elevated devotion. But she recovered from 
 this alarming attack, and by her exact temperance 
 and perfect serenity of mind, her constitution ap- 
 peared to be reinstated. But she still expressed a 
 strong desire to enter on a life of immortality ; and 
 when her friends congratulated her on the health 
 visible in her countenance, and the prospect of many 
 years to come, she would reply, " that it was the 
 same an telling a slave that his fetters would be 
 16
 
 190 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 lasting, or complimenting him on the strength of 
 the walls of his dungeon." 
 
 Her blameless life, her trust that her peace was 
 made with God, and her habitual preparation for 
 death, had so divested him of terror, that he appeared 
 only as a messenger to conduct her to more perfect 
 felicity. A short time before the event, when in 
 perfect health, she communicated to her religious 
 friends a firm persuasion that her continuance here 
 would be of short duration, wrote solemn and affec- 
 tionate letters to be given them after her decease, 
 and committed to writing a paper of directions, for 
 her servant, in which she gives orders that her 
 funeral should be private, and no stone or inscription 
 mark the place of her grave. On the day of her 
 death she was in perfect health, conversed cheerfully 
 in the evening with a friend, and at the usual hour 
 retired to her chamber. Soon after, an unusual 
 noise was heard, and her servant hastening to her 
 apartment, found her prostrate on the floor, speech- 
 less, and in the agonies of death. Medical aid was 
 found ineffectual, and on the next morning, Sun- 
 day, February 28, 1737, she died, in the sixty-third 
 year of her age. 
 
 From a religious book that was found laying 
 open by her, and a paper on which she had written 
 some unconnected sentences, it appears that the last 
 moments of her life were spent in devotion ; and as 
 it was her stated hour of prayer, she probably passed 
 from earthly communion with her Maker, to that 
 presence " where there is fulness of joy, to that right 
 hand where there are pleasures forevermore." The 
 manner of her leath may be also considered as an
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE. 191 
 
 answer of prayer, for her written devotions contain 
 repeated requests that she might not be suffered to 
 linger long in the dark passage, and she often 
 expressed to her friends a desire of a sudden depar- 
 ture, and a fear lest the violence of pain, or (he 
 languor of decaying nature, might excite an undue 
 depression of the mind, and cause her to reflect 
 dishonor on the name and profession of a Christian. 
 
 " Though her death be universally lamented," 
 says Mr. Graves, " the manner of it is rather to be 
 esteemed a part of her happiness. One moment to 
 enjoy this life : the next, after a pause we are not 
 sensible of, to find ourselves beyond the fears of 
 death, beyond death itself, and in possession of ev- 
 erlasting life, health and pleasure : this moment to 
 be devoutly addressing ourselves to God, or em- 
 ployed in delightful meditations on his perfections ; 
 the next, to stand in his presence surrounded with 
 scenes of bliss, perfectly new and unspeakably 
 joyous: is a way of departing to be desired, 
 not dreaded by ourselves ; and felicitated, not con- 
 doled, by surviving friends ; when all things are in 
 readiness for our removal out of the world, it is a 
 privilege to be spared the sad ceremony of parting, 
 and all the pains and struggles of decaying nature. 
 
 Mrs. Rowe was agreeable in her person, her 
 countenance indicated a softness and benevolence 
 beyond description, and yet commanded that degree 
 of awe and veneration, that genius and virtue so 
 naturally inspire. She spoke gracefully ; her voice 
 was singularly sweet and harmonious, and admira- 
 bly adapted to convey in all its charms, the elegant 
 language that flowed from her lips. Her manners 
 were refined, her deportment marked with ease and
 
 192 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 unaffected politeness. In her apparel she was 
 merely neat ; the business of her toilet did not in- 
 terfere with more noble pursuits ; she seemed to 
 have conquered all desire of complying with the 
 fashionable follies of the times, the vain pomp and 
 parade of life ; and she soared above her sex in re- 
 sisting the foolish force of custom, and the proud 
 dominations of fashion. In early life she discovered 
 that inclination for retirement so congenial to the 
 votaries of the muses, and retained it to the latest 
 period of her life. Her company was courted by 
 the great and opulent, and if, prompted by politeness, 
 she accepted of occasional invitations, she quitted 
 her solitude with reluctance, and returned to it with 
 increased pleasure. 
 
 But she possessed none of that rigid censorious- 
 ness, supercilious austerity, or unsocial propensity, 
 which is apt to adhere to persons of a recluse tem- 
 per ; she was as remarkable for every social virtue, 
 as for the strict observance of positive injunctions 
 of religion. She possessed a mind unruffled by any 
 of the common incidents of life, and a sweetness of 
 disposition that could not be affected by adverse oc- 
 currences, or the infirmities of age itself. She was 
 so placid in her behaviour to her inferiors and domes- 
 tics, that her servants, who lived with her near 20 
 years, never observed in her the least indication of 
 resentment, except at flagrant instances of impiety 
 and immorality. She had a most rooted' aversion to 
 scandal and calumny, and was scrupulously tender 
 of the character of her neighbors. Detraction was 
 so odious in her opinion as not to be justified by 
 the liveliest sallies of wit, and she never hesitated 
 to express her detestation of it when it was introduc-
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE. 193 
 
 ed in her presence ; and surely it is not the most tri- 
 fling or least uncommon trait in her character, that 
 she was never known to utter an ill-natured, or even 
 an indelicate thing. 
 
 Of envy her mind was too exalted to be suscep- 
 tible, but always disposed to do justice to merit, 
 wherever it was found, and to feel sensible pleasure 
 when she could find cause for commendation. And 
 when a sense of duty, and regard to the best inter- 
 ests of others compelled her to undertake the disa- 
 greeable task of reproof, she had the power of sof- 
 tening it into gentle remonstrance and affecting dis- 
 suasive. She was observed sometimes to com- 
 mend persons, who eminently practised some one 
 virtue, before some of her friends who were defi- 
 cient in that particular excellence, hoping that they 
 might be struck with the beauty of the example, and 
 induced to follow it. 
 
 Her conversation was singularly pleasing, as she 
 had a fund of original ideas, which she conveyed in 
 elegant language, with great fluency of diction, un- 
 affected ease, and openness of behaviour. Though 
 her accomplishments, from early life, had been the 
 theme of much eulogium, yet no vanity was observ- 
 able in her ; the whole tenor of her behaviour evin- 
 ced a modest diffidence, and amiable humility ; be- 
 ing affable and courteous to persons of every rank 
 in life. She disliked the course of fashionable 
 amusements, avoided as much as possible all par- 
 ties of pleasure, and all formal visits, as far as de- 
 cency would allow. She disclaimed every kind of 
 luxury as derogatory to the dignity of human l>eings, 
 who are endowed with reason, and designed for im- 
 mortality. Avarice she deemed the most sordid 
 16*
 
 194 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ignoble of the human passions, and was so free irom 
 it as not to know her own estate from others, till 
 motives of prudence obliged her to inform herself. 
 She never would suffer her tenants to be threatened 
 or distressed when they were in her debt ; and 
 though some took advantage of her goodness, she 
 would rather suffer wrong than commit injustice, 
 " I can appeal to thee," she says in a written ad- 
 dress to her Maker, " how scrupulously I have act- 
 ed in matters of equity, and how willingly I have 
 injured myself to right others." 
 
 She was strictly conscientious in all the relative 
 duties of life. She loved and revered her father, 
 was assiduously attentive to all his wishes, and has 
 been heard to say, " she had rather die than dis- 
 please him." She so sympathized with him in the 
 anguish of his last sickness, that it occasioned a 
 convulsion, from the effects of which she was never 
 afterwards entirely free. In the conjugal relation 
 she was equally exemplary. She endeared herself 
 to Mr. Rowe by the most delicate and engaging 
 attention, never thwarted his inclinations, though not 
 always consonant with her own ; and when he 
 broke out into excesses of anger, endeavored by the 
 most soothing endearments, to restore him to rea- 
 son and reflection ; and it was her constant study, 
 by all the allurements of persuasion, to lead him to 
 the practice of the more exalted virtues. In his 
 last long and painful illness she attended him with 
 indefatigable assiduity ; and performed with strictest 
 care all the offices suited to that melancholy situa- 
 tion. After he expired, she could scarcely be per- 
 suaded to quit his breathless clay, and she honored 
 his memory by perpetual widowhood.
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE. 195 
 
 In domestic life, her behaviour was amiable, con- 
 descending and affable ; she treated her servants 
 with the utmost kindness, caused every thing nutri- 
 tious and medicinal to be administered to them in 
 sickness, and would sit by their bedside to read to 
 them books of piety and devotion. In her friend- 
 ship she was warm, generous and sincere ; happy 
 in finding merit to commend, and tender and candid 
 in reproving error. It afforded her peculiar pleas- 
 ure to render them services ; but her principal en- 
 deavor was to instil into their minds the love of vir- 
 tue, and direct their attention to their most important 
 interests, which could not be essentially promoted 
 but by a true regard to the doctrine and practice of 
 Christianity. She thus contributed to accelerate 
 their progress, by her own precept and example, and 
 thereby exhibited the most unquestionable test of 
 real friendship. 
 
 Mrs. Rowe exemplified that the most immaculate 
 character is not free from the shafts of envy and 
 malice ; she felt the slander of malevolence, which 
 branded her with the stigma of enthusiasm and hy- 
 pocrisy ; but this she sustained through the support 
 of conscious innocence, and so far from entertain- 
 ing an idea of resentment, considered it as a call 
 for the exercise of the godlike virtue of forgiveness. 
 
 Her charity was extensive beyond bounds : to 
 want, was a sufficient recommendation for relief, and 
 she devoted the greatest part of her income to acts 
 of beneficence, taking pleasure in denying herself 
 the luxuries and superfluities of life, that she might 
 supply those who were destitute of its comforts. 
 The first time she accepted a compensation from 
 ihe bookseller for any of her productions, she pre-
 
 196 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 sented the whole to a family in distress ; and once, 
 not having money enough by her to relieve the exi- 
 gences of another, she readily sold a piece of plate 
 for that purpose. Besides the sums that she dispos- 
 ed of, and the great number of books that she gave 
 to the poor, she worked with her own hands to re- 
 lieve the necessitous. She was often seen to shed 
 tears at the distresses of others ; tears of generous 
 compassion, not of feminine weakness, for she had 
 too much Christian fortitude to weep over her own 
 sorrows. Not satisfied with sending her servants 
 to inquire into the state of the sick or necessitous, 
 she visited herself the hovels of poverty and conta- 
 gion. She educated poor children at her own ex- 
 pense, furnished them with clothes, Bibles, and oth- 
 er necessary books, instructed them herself in the 
 principles of the Christian religion, and expressed 
 the solicitude of a parent for their future conduct 
 and welfare. This charitable institution comprised 
 not only the poor children of Frome, but those of 
 neighboring villages, and when some astonishment 
 was expressed that a moderate estate should be en- 
 abled to perform so much, " I too am surprised," 
 said she, " how it should answer all these things, 
 and yet I never want money." In this she alluded 
 to the goodness of Divine Providence, which she 
 ever acknowledged with the greatest degree of pie- 
 ty, as interposing in her favor and protection. She 
 retired for private prayer three times a day, and was 
 most religiously strict in the observance of the 
 Lord's day, which she passed entirely in acts of pi- 
 ety and devotion. She constantly attended the ad- 
 ministration of the Sacrament, for which she had 
 the highest veneration ; caused parts of the holy
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE. 197 
 
 Scriptures to be read at stated times, every day in 
 her family, and was particularly affected with the 
 New Testament, nnd those passages of the pro- 
 phetical writings, that relate to our blessed Saviour. 
 A life so blameless so exemplary so devotional, 
 brightened her prospects of a future state, and 
 smoothed, and soTtened, and enlightened her jour- 
 ney to the tomb. The last work of this excellent 
 person, her " Devout Exercises of the heart," or, 
 " holy meditations, and addresses to God in the si- 
 lent recesses of devotion," display a fervor, an ani- 
 mation of piety, that few attain in this life. They 
 were sealed up and directed to be delivered to Dr. 
 Watts after her decease, and by him were published. 
 The letter that accompanied them contains a spirit 
 of humble and lively devotion, and we extract from 
 it only the two following sentences : " When I 
 am sleeping in the dust, should these soliloquies 
 kindle a flame of divine love even in the heart of 
 the lowest and most despised Christian, be the glory 
 given to the great spring of grace and benignity. 
 Through the blood of the Lamb, I hope for an en- 
 tire victory over the last enemy ; and that before 
 this comes to you I shall have reached the celestial 
 heights, and while you are reading these lines, I 
 shall be adoring before the throne of God."
 
 LADY MARY VERE. 
 
 HER family was respectable, and she was the 
 youngest of 15 children. Her mother died three days 
 
 after her birth, and her father when she was 
 16SO. only eight years of age. But though she 
 
 was thus early left an orphan, the Al- 
 mighty adopted her into his family, and the experi- 
 ence she had of his tender care, induced her to 
 adopt as her motto, and to write in her books, " God 
 will provide." At the age of 19, she was married 
 to Mr. William Hobby, and was exemplary in her 
 duty to him, and the religious education of her two 
 sons. For this she was amply rewarded ; as she 
 saw in their happy and trNknphant deaths, the bles- 
 sed effects of that piety she had endeavored to im- 
 plant. The youngest died in his 14th year, the 
 eldest in his 23d much admired for their genius, 
 and greatly beloved for their piety. 
 
 Her second husband was Sir Horace Vere, baron 
 of Tilsbury, a person of honorable descent, of no- 
 ble achievements in the field, and of unstained pie- 
 ty. He found in her a faithful friend, and a reli- 
 gious companion, one who discharged well the 
 relative duties of life, and preserved on her spirit a 
 continual awe of the Supreme Being. She was 
 attentive to the appointed ordinances ; careful in her
 
 LADY MARY VERB. 199 
 
 preparation for the Sacrament, and so reverent in 
 her deportment in the house of God, that one who 
 was in the habit of observing critically, remarked, 
 " Lady Vere, by her solemn deportment would make 
 one believe that there is a God indeed." 
 
 She was no less conscientious respecting private 
 worship ; for she did not leave her devotion behind 
 her, in the church. Twice a day, the prayers of 
 the family were offered on bended knees, the word 
 of God read, and his praise sung, and no business 
 or company were suffered to delay, or to shorten 
 this exercise. On the Sabbath, the sermon preach- 
 ed was repeated to her household, the servants were 
 called to render an account of what they remem- 
 bered, and to unite in a hymn of praise ; and after 
 their dismission they resumed the singing of psalms. 
 To encourage them in this work of praise, their 
 kind mistress would often go and bear her part with 
 them, and every night she prayed with her maid- 
 servants, thus setting them an example of " all that 
 was lovely, and of good report." Twice a day she 
 retired to her closet, and spent several hours in read- 
 ing the Scriptures, theological works, and prayer. 
 Thus she made great progress hi the divine life, 
 though she deeply felt and lamented her own unwor- 
 thiness. She not only meditated on death frequently, 
 but was strongly desirous to depart, and Was one of 
 those few Christians to whom it was necessary to 
 address the exhortation, " to be content and patient 
 though they were not taken up to heaven, so soon 
 as they desired." 
 
 Her love to her Redeemer, and Heavenly Fa- 
 ther, showed itself in love to Christians, to ministers, 
 and to the poor, and they all experienced the murks
 
 200 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 of her kindness. She was distinguished by her 
 works of charity ; and these were so numerous and 
 liberal, that it excited astonishment in others why 
 her materials were not exhausted. With unlimited 
 generosity she gave to the poor, food, clothing, 
 medicine, and accommodations for sickness. But 
 her charity was silent and unostentatious, and what 
 she gave was known only to herself. When it 
 once happened that a poor neighbor died before she 
 knew of his illness, she inquired with great anxiety 
 respecting his supplies, and added, " I tell you, I 
 had rather part with my gown from my back, than 
 that the poor should want." In the exercises of 
 her beneficence she was simple and humble, ac- 
 knowledging that what she gave was not her own 
 but the Lord's, feeling her dependence on him, and 
 desiring to be found in his righteousness, for her 
 own good works in her view were polluted. 
 
 Her goodness was uniform and consistent ; and 
 her life was chargeable with none of those inequali- 
 ties, which hypocrites are apt to betray. In every 
 part of it there was a beautiful symmetry, and its 
 crowning part was humility. She placed a high 
 value on the exercise of faithful friendship, and re- 
 quested her friends to speak freely of whatever they 
 saw amiss in her, observing that " others see more 
 of us than we do ourselves." Her own imperfec- 
 tions were ever present to her, while those around 
 her admired her goodness and piety. To the mean- 
 est person who approached her, she was afi'able and 
 courteous, and when her domestics had performed 
 any duty assigned them, would be particular in 
 thanking them ; for on her tongue was the law of 
 kindness.
 
 LADY MARY VERB. 201 
 
 About a year before her death she was seized 
 with an alarming fainting fit, in which she continued 
 half an hour without apparent life or motion ; but 
 as soon as she came to herself, she exclaimed joy- 
 fully, " I know that my Redeemer liveth ; I know 
 whom I have believed." Her serene, and bright 
 day, had at length a happy close. In her last sick- 
 ness her pains were strong, but the constancy of 
 her faith was still stronger ; no murmur, or expres- 
 sion of impatience, dropped from her lips, but she 
 was particular in justifying God in all his dispensa- 
 tions, and in her most distressing agonies would 
 speak gratefully of his mercies. The last words 
 which she was heard to utter were, " How shall I 
 do to be thankful ? How shall I do to praise my 
 God ?" She closed this life with the exercise of 
 that praise which is to be the employment of ano- 
 ther, and entered into rest, on the Sabbath day, De- 
 cember 25th, 1761, at the great age of 90 years. 
 With long life did God satisfy her, and grant her his 
 salvation. 
 
 17
 
 COL. JAMES GARDINER. 
 
 JAMES GARDINER was born at a small town in 
 Linlithgowshire (Scotland) on the 10th of Janua- 
 ry, 1688. While a child he met with 
 1688. many bereavements ; his father died, 
 during the long campaign in Germany ; 
 his uncle was slain in the battle at Steinkirk, and 
 his eldest brother fell at the siege of Namur, on the 
 day that completed his 16th year. His mother, who- 
 was a pattern of piety and virtue, endured these af- 
 flictions with the spirit of a Christian, and labored 
 to promote the religious and literary education oF 
 the subject of this sketch. He was placed at the 
 school of Linlithgow, where he distinguished him- 
 self by proficiency in study, especially in the lan- 
 guages. The pious instructions of his mother had 
 no effect upon his volatile mind, and her tender re- 
 monstrances were ineffectual to prevent his making 
 choice of a military life ; for so great was his ardor 
 in the profession of arms that he fought three duels 
 before he attained the stature of a man ; and in one 
 of them, when he was but eight years old, received 
 a deep wound in the face, the scar of which he car- 
 ried with him to the grave. He served first as a ca- 
 det, and at the age of 14 bore an ensign's commis- 
 sion in a Scotch regiment engaged in the Dutch ser- 
 vice.
 
 COI,. JAMES GARDINER. 203 
 
 In the memorable battle of Raniillies, during the 
 reign of Queen Anne, he performed many feats of 
 valor, in the capacity of ensign, and while he was 
 engaged in rallying his men to a desperate attack on 
 the French, who were posted in the church yard of 
 Raniillies, and while the most blasphemous oaths 
 trembled on his tongue, he received a bullet in the 
 mouth which passed out through his neck, and in a 
 state of racking anguish lay on the field of battle the 
 whole night, covered with his own blood, and sur- 
 rounded by the dying. But neither the tortures of a 
 wound, inflamed by neglect and improper treatment, 
 nor the depression of sickness, nor yet the miracle of 
 his deliverance, impressed his heart or awakened it to 
 reflection. At his recovery he again returned to 
 his vices, and plunged into every course of shame- 
 less dissipation. Yet in this life of licentiousness 
 he realized no happiness, and when his gay friends 
 were once congratulating him on his successes and 
 felicity, he happened to cast his eye upon a dog that 
 entered the room, and could not forbear groaning 
 inwardly, and wishing " Oh, that I were that dog /" 
 
 In this course he continued till past the 30th year 
 of his age, when he was reclaimed by an almost mi- 
 raculous interposition of divine power. In the 
 midst of horrible criminality, his mind became so 
 suddenly and deeply impressed, that he thought he 
 saw before his eyes, a representation of the crucified 
 Saviour, and heard his voice expostulating with him. 
 The deep amazement of his soul was succeeded by 
 several days and nights of extreme horror, till at 
 length, as if in answer to agonizing cries and pray- 
 ers, the day-spring of salvation dawned from on 
 high. An entire change was wrought in his views,
 
 204 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 affections, and propensities, and he who was once 
 blind through the enmity of sin, saw clearly. This 
 perceptible alteration of his behaviour, soon exci- 
 ted the raillery and ridicule of his former compan- 
 ions, but he sustained it with calmness, and told 
 them of his unalterable determination to serve the 
 Lord. 
 
 At his return from Paris to London, knowing that 
 he must encounter the ridicule of those with whom 
 he had once associated in sin, he requested that he 
 might meet them on a social party at the house of a 
 friend. During dinner he was the object of their 
 sharpest witticisms, to which he made little reply ; 
 but when the cloth was removed, he entreated their 
 hearing, while he recounted the cause of his visible 
 alteration, the thorough change of his principles and 
 affections, and the peace and serenity which he en- 
 joyed, to which he was before a stranger. They 
 listened to this manly and rational defence with the 
 deepest astonishment, and the master of the house, 
 rising, said " Come, let us call another cause. We 
 thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest 
 proving that we are so." When his friends perceiv- 
 ed him still cheerful and conversible, they no longer 
 cavilled at his opinions, but seemed to wish to share 
 his serenity, and to look upon him as a superior be- 
 ing. 
 
 None ever knew better how to blend the grace- 
 ful and amiable discharge of the duties of life, with 
 the strict devotion of a Christian. He always rose 
 so early, as to be able to devote two hours to pray- 
 er, meditation and praise, in which he acquired an 
 uncommon fervency, and realized great delight. If, 
 during the bustle of a camp life, he was obliged to
 
 COL. JAMES GARDINER. 205 
 
 be at the head of his regiment earlier than usual, 
 he would begin his devotions by one or two o'clock, 
 that nothing might intrench upon his specified holy 
 time. When he received a letter from a friend, it 
 was his practice to retire and pray for him, and when 
 he had the care of a family, prayer and praise were 
 continually offered, morning and evening, and he 
 engaged a clergyman to reside there and officiate in 
 his absence, and serve as tutor to his children. 
 
 His letters are written in the most fervent strain 
 of piety ; " I am daily offering up my prayers," he 
 adds in one of them, " for this sinful land of ours, 
 over which the judgments of God seem to be gath- 
 ering ; and my strength is sometimes so exhausted 
 with those strong cries and tears which I pour out 
 before my God, that I am hardly able to stand when 
 I rise from my knees." 
 
 The life of this extraordinary man was termina- 
 ted at the battle of Preston Pans, Sept. 21st, 1745, 
 where he fell gallantly fighting at the head of his 
 regiment. He received in the beginning of the ac- 
 tion a bullet in the breast, and a shot in the thigh, 
 which he disregarded, and continued animating his 
 men by his voice and example, until a highlander, 
 with a scythe, almost severed his right arm from his 
 body, and dragged him from his horse, when anoth- 
 er highlander with a Lochaber axe gave him his 
 mortal wound. Elevating the arm that was left he 
 gave signal for his men to retreat, and as he lay ex- 
 piring in blood said feebly to a chief of the opposite 
 party, " you are fighting for an earthly crown, I go 
 to receive an heavenly one." 
 17*
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 JONATHAN EDWARDS was born at East Wind- 
 sor, Connecticut, on the 5th of October, 
 1703. 1703. He was the only brother of ten 
 sisters, and the only son of the Rev. Tim- 
 othy Edwards, minister of East Windsor, who 
 labored as a preacher more than fifty-nine years, 
 and died at the age of ninety, universally esteemed, 
 beloved and venerated. This son, in the year 
 1716, entered a student at Yale College, and soon 
 became distinguished by proficiency in knowledge 
 and serious deportment. In the second year of his 
 attendance, while only thirteen, he read Locke's 
 Essay on the Human Understanding, with so much 
 eagerness and fixed attention, that it had a powerful 
 influence upon his mind, and seemed to awaken 
 and invigorate those logical and metaphysical pow- 
 ers, for which he was afterwards so greatly eminent. 
 Taking that book into his hand, not long before his 
 death, he said to some select friends, who surround- 
 ed him, that in his boyhood at college, he had more 
 satisfaction and pleasure in studying it, than the 
 most greedy miser in gathering handfuls of gold 
 and silver from a newly discovered treasure. 
 
 In his early years an uncommon genius began to 
 discover itself ; for Nature had formed him for in-
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 207 
 
 tense thought, and deep penetration; and though 
 he made proficiency in all the arts and sciences 
 then taught, yet moral philosophy and divinity were 
 his favorite studies. When only 16, he received 
 the honors of Yale College, and continued there 
 two years after, studying and preparing for the work 
 of the ministry. After passing the pre-requisite 
 trials, he was licensed as a candidate, and preached 
 to a society in New York for eight months, to uni- 
 versal acceptance. 
 
 While here he contracted a strong religious 
 friendship with an aged widow lady where he board- 
 ed, and with her son. " My heart was knit in af- 
 fection to them," he writes more than twenty years 
 afterwards, " and I could not bear the thoughts of 
 other companions, than those who were disciples of 
 the blessed Jesus. When I came from New York 
 I had a most bitter parting with Madam Smith and 
 her son. My heart seemed to sink within me, at 
 leaving the family and city where I had enjoyed so 
 many sweet and pleasant days ; and as the vessel 
 sailed away, I kept sight of the city as long as I 
 could ; and when it could no longer be seen, it 
 would affect me much to look that way with a kind 
 of melancholy, mixed with sweetness." He was 
 earnestly solicited to settle at New York, but think- 
 ing that the society where he preached was too 
 small to support the expense of a minister, and that 
 a longer term of study was requisite for his youth, 
 as he was then but 19, he retired to his father's 
 house, and devoted the summer to close and dili- 
 gent study. 
 
 Here his diary notes every change of his heart, 
 as well as of God's dealings with him, and the pious
 
 208 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 resolutions formed for the direction of his conduct, 
 deserve the notice and remembrance of every seri- 
 ous person. They are seventy in number, and a 
 few only are transcribed, as the limits of this sketch 
 will not allow the admission of the whole. 
 
 " Resolved, Never to lose one moment of time ; 
 but improve it the most profitable way I can. 
 
 " Never to do anything that I should be afraid to 
 do, if it were the last moment of my life. 
 
 " To think much on all occasions of my own 
 dying, and of the common circumstances that at- 
 tend death. 
 
 " To be endeavoring to find out fit objects for 
 charity and liberality. 
 
 " Never to do anything out of revenge. 
 
 " Never to suffer the least emotions of anger to 
 irrational beings. 
 
 " To live at all times as I think is best in my 
 devout frames, and when I have the clearest views 
 of the gospel, and another world. 
 
 " Never to speak anything in narration but sim- 
 ple truth. 
 
 " To inquire every night as I am going to bed, 
 wherein I have been negligent, what sin I have 
 committed, and wherein I have denied myself; also 
 at the end of every week, month and year. 
 
 " To maintain the strictest temperance in diet. 
 
 " Never to speak anything that is ridiculous, or 
 matter of laughter, on the Lord's day. 
 
 " Never to allow the least measure of fretting 
 uneasiness, at my father or mother. Resolved, to 
 suffer no effects of it, so much as in the least alter- 
 ation of speech, or motion of the eye : and to be
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 209 
 
 especially careful, with respect to any of the family. 
 
 " To endeavor to my utmost to deny whatever is 
 not agreeable to a good arid universally sweet, and 
 benevolent, quiet, peaceable, contented, easy, com- 
 passionate, generous, humble, meek, modest, sub- 
 missive, obliging, diligent, industrious, charitable, 
 even, patient, moderate, forgiving, sincere temper ; 
 and to examine strictly every week whether I have 
 done so. 
 
 " Resolved, all my life long, with the greatest 
 openness of which I am capable, to declare my 
 ways to God, and lay open my soul to him ; all my 
 sins, temptations, difficulties, sorrows, fears, hopes, 
 desires, every thing and every circumstance." 
 
 This was the beginning of a life, useful, emi- 
 nent and holy. This was the youth who was after- 
 wards to be one of the greatest divines, and most 
 acute logicians, that America ever produced; of 
 whom experienced ministers were to say, " that he 
 was, under heaven, their oracle ;" and whose writ- 
 ings were to gain him the applause and admiration 
 of America, Great Britain, Holland and Germany. 
 He began his life with watchfulness, pious resolu- 
 tions, and prayers : is this the usual course and 
 practice of the youth of the present day 1 Let 
 them know that he arrived at eminence by such 
 methods ; let them follow his steps, and expect the 
 blessing of <.'n<| M To-day, if they will hear the 
 voice, that from the life and writings of a departed 
 saint speaks unto them, let them not harden their 
 hearts, but turn unto Him, who, if sought early, 
 will be found, and if called upon humbly and ear- 
 nestly, will answer.
 
 210 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 At the age of twenty, he was nominated tutor of 
 Yale College, where he continued two years, and 
 then accepted an invitation to settle at Northampton, 
 as colleague pastor with his grandfather Stoddard, 
 who was then living at an advanced age. It is 
 rather a singular coincidence, that he was twenty- 
 three years and four months old when ordained at 
 Northampton, and continued there exactly twenty- 
 three years and four months. The summer after his 
 settlement he was married to Miss Sarah Pierpont, 
 daughter of the Rev. James Pierpont, the worthy 
 and respected minister of New Haven. She was 
 happily calculated to advance his interest, and in- 
 crease his enjoyment, and this union was a source 
 of much felicity to both. 
 
 And now the lustre of his piety began to diffuse 
 itself over a wider sphere, and to vivify many cold 
 and inattentive hearts. As a preacher, his excellence 
 was acknowledged even by those who received not 
 his doctrine. He took great pains in preparing his 
 sermons, his knowledge of the human heart sug- 
 gested many affecting truths, and his delivery of 
 them was easy, methodical, and deeply solemn. 
 Towards the close of his life, he was little confined 
 to his notes, and used to advise young preachers, to 
 commit their sermons to memory, and gradually 
 discontinue the use of notes, that they might address 
 with more freedom and better effect the hearts of 
 their audience. 
 
 In his prayers, he had an undissembled and almost 
 inimitable spirit of devotion, and seemed indeed to 
 draw nigh to the throne of a father. This service,, 
 though delightful to him, he did not protract to great 
 length, observing that this was an error often hurtful
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 211 
 
 to public and social prayer, and calculated more to 
 dampen than to promote true devotion. He cate- 
 chised the children in public every Sabbath, often 
 called them with the youth to his own house, that he 
 might pray and converse religiously with them, and 
 propose questions to some of them in writing, which 
 they were to answer after a suitable time, thus ex- 
 citing them to the knowledge of the scriptures. Ma- 
 ny fruits of his labors were visible among his people, 
 and in the years 1734 and 41, were two such general 
 seasons of awakening, as to excite universal attention 
 in surrounding places. Of the first, which was the 
 most remarkable, he 'published an account entitled, 
 ** A faithful Narrative of the surprising work of 
 God, in the conversion of many hundred souls in 
 Northampton ;" this was reprinted in Germany, 
 England and America. 
 
 His benevolent disposition discovered itself by 
 his uncommon liberality to the poor and distressed. 
 His donations were generally made privately, or 
 with strict commands that none should mention the 
 name of the giver ; though since his death such a 
 number of instances have been discovered as con- 
 stitute him one of the greatest charitable examples 
 of our age, and doubtless many many will continue 
 unknown until the resurrection of the just. Though 
 he was not in affluent circumstances, and was bur- 
 dened with the maintenance of a numerous family, 
 he imparted largely and willingly, but gave not his 
 alms to be seen or applauded by men. 
 
 He did not entangle himself with the affairs of 
 this life, and had no desire to lay up perishable 
 riches for himself or his children. He observed the 
 strictest integrity in all his dealings, and displayed
 
 212 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 the most sacred regard to truth, not only in promises, 
 but in the simplest narration. He was cautious in 
 the choice of acquaintance, unreserved and faithful 
 in friendship, and inviolable in preserving secrets 
 entrusted to him. His conversation was profitable 
 and instructive, but he never spent his time in study- 
 ing the art of trifling. In promiscuous company, 
 unless some important subject of discourse was 
 agitated, he spoke little, for he was not ambitious of 
 being idly entertaining, and thought his chief excel- 
 lence did not consist in a talent for conversation. 
 " As far as I am able to judge," he writes, " of what 
 talents I have, for benefiting my fellow creatures by 
 words, I think I can write better than I can speak." 
 
 In the relative duties of life, as a son and brother, 
 a husband and father, he was faithful and affectionate. 
 He maintained an uniform government of his family, 
 and so established parental authority, as to obtain 
 cheerful obedience, reverence and affection. He 
 was careful to instruct them in the principles of 
 religion, to restrain them from vain and unreasonable 
 amusements, and to teach them reverently to observe 
 the Sabbath. As he believed its exercises began at 
 sunset the evening before, he was careful that his 
 household should finish all their secular business, 
 and be convened at that time, when he examined his 
 children in their religious studies, took particular 
 care that they understood what they repeated, and 
 then would sing a psalm, and attend prayers, as an 
 introductory exercise to the Lord's day. 
 
 He was remarkable for rising early, and required 
 his family to follow his example, and to attend 
 customary devotions ere they entered upon worldly 
 business. Before prayers a portion of Scripture
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 213 
 
 was read, usually by candle light in the winter, upon 
 which he questioned his children according to their 
 age and capacity, explaining, illustrating and enfor- 
 cing as he saw occasion. He frequently conversed 
 with his children separately in his study, on their 
 eternal concerns, giving them warning, exhortation 
 or direction, as their state seemed to require. In 
 his study, also, he was accustomed to converse with 
 his amiable and pious consort, on the affairs of 
 religion, and constantly prayed with her there, once 
 a day, beside family and private devotion. 
 
 In his manner of life, study, diet and recreation, 
 he was strictly methodical. He was very temperate 
 in eating and drinking, that the powers of the mind 
 might be unburdened and active. His time of rising 
 was four in the morning ; his daily time of study 
 thirteen hours ; his recreation, riding on horseback 
 after dinner, two or three miles, when he kvouS| 
 dismount and walk in some retired grove or forest, 
 carrying with him a pen, to note the thoughts that 
 arose in his mind. He was punctual and frequent 
 in the exercise of private devotion, and often kept 
 days of fasting, prayer, and devout meditation. In 
 youth, he recorded a resolution in his diary, to pray 
 secretly more than twice a day, and it was known 
 that he was much on his knees, engaged in that 
 most solemn service. Constant and devout com- 
 munion with God in these retired hours, gave to his 
 countenance and deportment, an habitual serious- 
 ness, and calm solemnity, as the face of Moses was 
 observed to shine after his high communion in the 
 mount. 
 
 The exercises of his mind, in the different stages 
 of conversion, were remarkable. His first was in 
 18
 
 214 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 childhood, at the time of an awakening in his 
 father's congregation ; when he was for many months 
 religiously concerned, careful in serious duties, and 
 in the habit of praying secretly five times a day. 
 Yet this he considered not genuine, because its im- 
 pressions passed away, and were not renewed until 
 hehada severe fitof sickness at college. This danger 
 awakened him to self-accusation, terror and repen- 
 tance, and though he experienced more than most 
 Christians do, and after his recovery was serious 
 and active in religion, he viewed that not as the 
 time of his saving change, but as a step in the grad- 
 ual progress to a happier time, when to use his own 
 eloquent description, " there came into his mind 
 sweet sense of the glorious majesty and grace of 
 ti, as it were in conjunction ; majesty and meek- 
 ness joined together ; a sweet, and a gentle, and an 
 holy majesty ; a majestic meekness, an awful 
 sweetness, a high, and a great and holy gentleness." 
 His objections to the sovereignty of God were 
 conquered, his affections sublimated, and even a new- 
 hue given to the face of Nature. " A. calm, sweet 
 cast, an appearance of divine glory, an excellency, 
 wisdom, purity and love, seemed to shine in every 
 thing, in the sun, moon and stars ; in the clouds 
 and blue sky ; in the grass, flowers and trees ; in 
 the water, and in all nature." Even his natural 
 tastes and antipathies seemed to be transformed, he 
 had from infancy been much terrified at thunder, and 
 the sight of a rising cloud would fill him with unspeak- 
 able dread. But then, and ever afterwards, a thun- 
 der storm was to him no source of uneasiness ; 
 " I rejoiced," said he, " at its appearance, fixed 
 myself so as to view the clouds, to see the light-
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 215 
 
 nings play, and to hear the majestic and awful 
 voice of God's thunder, which led me to sweet con- 
 templations, and as I viewed, it always seemed 
 natural to me to sing or chant forth my meditations ; 
 to utter my thoughts in soliloquies, and with a sing- 
 ing voice." A change so great influenced him to 
 the close of life ; a religion whose principle was 
 love seemed to actuate him ; his heait was alive 
 and susceptible to every pious emotion, and in his 
 line of duty, and sphere of action, few have kept 
 themselves so pure and unspotted from the world. 
 His activity, usefulness, and sincere piety, gained 
 the love and esteem of his people, and in their expres- 
 sions of attachment they were uncommonly fre- 
 quent and fervent. Those who visited Northamp- 
 ton, would have pronounced it impossible for him to 
 have been rejected or opposed by his parishioners ; 
 yet in this we have a striking lesson of the muta- 
 bility of man, and the affairs of man. It had been 
 maintained by his predecessor, that unconverted 
 persons should be admitted to the ordinance of 
 the Lord's Supper, though they make no pretensions 
 to real holiness. Upon this principle, a short cove- 
 nant was framed, and many admitted to the church 
 without prerequisite qualifications. Many years 
 after Mr. Edwards' settlement, he was led candidly 
 to examine this doctrine, and to preceive its dan- 
 gerous tendency. But the avowal of his sentiments, 
 gave great offence ; he was forbidden to preach on 
 the subject, and what he published was neglected or 
 misconstrued. Those who were once ready to 
 14 pluck out their eyes and give to him," clamoured 
 for his dismissal, rejected all terms of accommoda- 
 tion, and when the summoned ecclesiastical council
 
 216 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 decreed that it was expedient for him to depart if 
 they persisted in desiring it, zealously voted for his 
 dismission, by a majority of two hundred and twenty. 
 
 A part, who adhered to him during all his calami- 
 ties, requested that he would still continue their pas- 
 tor, and offered to support him ; but he determined 
 not to perpetuate division, among those whom he 
 had loved as children, and chose rather to suffer 
 poverty with a large and helpless family around him. 
 
 He bade them farewell in a most solemn and 
 pathetic discourse, and while he continued there, 
 occasionally supplied the pulpit, when no other min- 
 ister could be procured, until great uneasiness was 
 manifested, and the whole town gathering together, 
 voted that he should preach to them no more. 
 This opposition and severe treatment was a great 
 trial to so tender and susceptible a heart ; he felt 
 very deeply this change in the conduct of those 
 who had once manifested so much esteem and 
 love, for whose welfare he had studied and labored, 
 for whom he had poured out innumerable fervent 
 prayers ; and who were dearer to him than any 
 people under heaven. With feeling he might 
 adopt the words of the Psalmist, " It was not an 
 enemy that reproached me, then I could have borne 
 it ; neither was it he that hated me that did mag- 
 nify himself against me; but it was thou mine 
 equal, my guide, and my acquaintance ; we took 
 sweet counsel together, and walked unto the house 
 of God in company." 
 
 But though he felt the pang of ingratitude keenly, 
 as a man, he suffered it meekly, as a Christian. 
 His calm sedateness, and deep humility amidst 
 violent opposition and injurious treatment; his res- 
 olution and steady conduct throughout the whole
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 217 
 
 of that dark and terrible storm, astonished his ene- 
 mies, and furnished a new source of admiration to 
 those who had been in the habit of esteeming and 
 loving this excellent man. The God to whom he 
 had prayed for strength and direction, evidently 
 supported him, and provided for his necessities, whon 
 earthly friends had forsaken him. 
 
 A short time after this sorrowful and surprising 
 transaction, he was appointed to succeed the Rev. 
 Mr. Sergeant, in his mission at Stockbridge, about 
 sixty miles from Northampton, where he and his 
 family were comfortably accommodated, and leisure 
 given him to pursue his beloved studies. Here he 
 made swifter advances in knowledge, and added 
 more to his manuscripts than he had ever done in 
 the same term of time before, and often acknow- 
 ledged the tender care of God in granting him 
 opportunity to finish some favorite literary works, 
 and in providing him such a peaceful retreat, ren- 
 dered doubly sweet by the preceding tempest. 
 
 His great work on the " Freedom of the Will," 
 was composed here, which by good judges is con- 
 sidered one of the greatest efforts of the human 
 mind that appeared in that century. Its judgment, 
 penetration, and accuracy of thought, ranks the 
 author among the most exalted geniuses of his age. 
 His different publications were between twenty and 
 thirty, beside several works left unfinished at the 
 time of his death, and 1,400 miscellaneous manu- 
 scripts. When we look at the number of his per- 
 formances, and consider the delicacy of his health, 
 and the extent of his professional engagements, we 
 are led to admire his strict improvement of time, 
 and diligence in study, and are astonished that even 
 18*
 
 218 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 with these he could have accomplished so much. 
 
 In this retirement, so congenial to his inclinations, 
 and favorable to his pursuits, he was interrupted by 
 an invitation from Princeton, New Jersey, to accept 
 of the government of their college, rendered vacant 
 by the death of his son-in-law, President Burr. Far 
 from being elated at any proposal of dignity or 
 emolument, he signified his desire rather to remain 
 in a retired situation, and devote himself to study, 
 than to accept an office for which his great humility 
 led him to think himself unqualified. But they per- 
 sisting in their request, he submitted the question to 
 a counsel of ministers, who after candid examina- 
 tion, determined it to be his duty to accept of the 
 offered Presidency. He received their judgment 
 with a flood of tears, so dear was that little spot of 
 retirement, so unambitious was he of worldly dig- 
 nity, and so true is it that, to minds like his, ' before 
 honoris humility.' In the winter of 1758, he began 
 his journey, leaving his family to follow in the 
 spring, and purposing to reside till their arrival with 
 his daughter, the widow of the late President Burr. 
 
 His acceptance of the appointment gave great 
 satisfaction to the college and inhabitants of Prince- 
 ton, his friends in Scotland and England expressed 
 their warmest congratulations ; and he himself said, 
 that though he had undertaken the office with much 
 concern and fear, he had received such visible sup- 
 ports from God, as to incline him to believe that 
 he was in the way of his duty. He preached in 
 the college hall every Sabbath, to the edification 
 of many hearers ; and as President, gave out 
 questions in divinity to the senior class, to be an- 
 swered before him, after a suitable time to digest
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 219 
 
 and write their thoughts. They found so much 
 pleasure in the exercise, and so much light and 
 instruction from his comments, that they spoke of 
 it with a mixture of astonishment and delight. 
 
 When President Edwards arrived at Princeton, 
 he found the small pox prevailed among the inhabi- 
 tants ; and by the advice of his physician, and con- 
 sent of the corporation of college, was inoculated 
 a few weeks after he came among them. The 
 disease appeared to terminate favorably ; but a sec- 
 ondary fever seized him, which raged in defiance of 
 all medicine, until it put a period to his life, on the 
 22d of March, 1753, in the 56th year of his age, 
 just two months after he had parted from his belov- 
 ed family at Stockbridge, whom God had ordained 
 should see his face no more. When he perceived 
 his disease would prove mortal, he said to his 
 daughter who attended him, " My dear Lucy, it 
 seems to me to be the will of God, that I should short- 
 ly leave you, therefore give my kindest love to my 
 dear wife, and tell her that the uncommon union 
 that has so long subsisted between us, has been of 
 such a nature as I trust is spiritual, and therefore 
 will continue forever, and I hope she will be sup- 
 ported under so great a trial, and submit cheerfully 
 to the will of God. And as to my children, you 
 are now likely to be left fatherless, which I hope 
 will be an inducement to you all to seek a father 
 who will never fail you. And as to my funeral, I 
 would have it without ostentation, like Mr. Burr's, 
 and any additional sum of money, that might be 
 expected to be laid out that way, I would have dis- 
 posed of in charitable uses." 
 
 As he breathed his last, some persons who sur-
 
 220 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 rounded his bed were lamenting his death, as a great 
 judgment on the college, and bearing a dark aspect 
 on the interests of religion in general, when to 
 their great surprise, he whom they supposed to be 
 senseless, and lamented as dead, spoke to them 
 distinctly " Trust in God, and ye need not fear" 
 These were his last words ; and surely they are 
 memorable ; for to those around him they appeared 
 as if uttered from the dead. Thus fell a great and 
 a good man, of whom to record the truth is his best 
 praise. 
 
 The physician who constantly attended him, has 
 the following words in a letter to his widowed con- 
 sort. " Never did any man more clearly evince the 
 sincerity of his professions, by one continued, calm, 
 cheerful resignation, and patient submission to the 
 divine will, through every stage of his disease, than 
 he. Not so much as one discontented expression, 
 or the least appearance of murmuring, throughout 
 the whole. And never did any person expire with 
 more perfect freedom from pain : not so much as 
 one distorted hair, but in the most proper sense 
 of the words, he readily fell asleep."
 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHKSOtf. 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, a literary character of the 
 highest rank, was born at Litchfield, (Eng.) Sep- 
 tember 7, 1709. His father was a repu- 
 1709. table bookseller; his mother a woman of 
 great piety and understanding, who early 
 instilled the principles of religion into his mind. 
 He exhibited strong marks of genius in the free 
 school at Litchfield, where he received the chief part 
 of his education, and some of his exercises which 
 were accidentally preserved, justify the expectations 
 which determined a father, not opulent, to train him 
 in the paths of literature. After passing a part of 
 his youth, at home, in voluntary and desultory 
 study, he entered as a commoner at Oxford, in his 
 19th year. Oppressed by pecuniary difficulties, he 
 was compelled to make a short, and an interrupted 
 residence at the university, and in the aututnn of 
 1731, gave it up as impracticable, after having 
 struggled as long as possible with severe indigence, 
 and the insolvency of his father. 
 
 After he quitted the university, he remained at 
 Litchfield, till the death of his father, devoting his 
 time to literary improvements. At the age of 26, 
 he married Elizabeth Porter, a widow of Birming- 
 ham, and fitted up a house in Eclial, near Litchfield,
 
 222 BIOGHAPIIY OF PIOL J S PERSONS. 
 
 where he undertook to keep a school, but was oblig- 
 ed to resign the employment for want of encourage- 
 ment. Two years after, he made his first expedi- 
 tion to London, to try the fortune of his talents in 
 that great field of exertion. He soon found him- 
 self reduced to the necessity of writing for a sub- 
 sistence, and his principal employment for several 
 years, was that of writing for the editor of the Gen- 
 tleman's Magazine. He felt keenly the bitterness 
 of dependance, and the vexations of authorship, 
 and for a long time supported himself upon the 
 scanty pittance of four pence half penny a day ! 
 How little is sufficient to subsist the animal part of 
 man ! and how often are genius and talents over- 
 looked and forgotten ! 
 
 Soon after he published a tragedy, and a poem in 
 imitation of Juvenal's third satire ; and in 1737, be- 
 gan an edition of Shakespeare, and published the 
 plan of his English Dictionary. To enable him to 
 complete this last stupendous work, he hired a house, 
 fitted up a large upper room in the form of a count- 
 ing house, and employed six amanuenses. On the 
 20th of March, 1750, he published the first paper of 
 his " Rambler," which he continued twice a week, 
 without interruption, for two years. In this very 
 excellent work, he proceeded almost without assist- 
 ance ; only five papers in the whole having been 
 supplied by other writers. With what devout and 
 conscientious sentiments he undertook this paper, 
 is evidenced by the following solemn address to the 
 Divine Being, which he composed and solemnly of- 
 fered up at its commencement. 
 
 " Almighty God ! the giver of all good things ; 
 without whose help all labor is ineffectual, and with-
 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 223 
 
 out whose grace all wisdom is folly ; grant, I be- 
 seech thee, that in this undertaking, thine Holy 
 Spirit may not be withheld from me, but that I may 
 promote thy glory, and the salvation of myself and 
 others ; grant this, O Lord, for the sake of thy son 
 Jesus Christ. Amen." 
 
 The concluding paragraph of his farewell paper 
 in the Rambler, appears to have been written under 
 a persuasion that the Deity had been propitious to 
 his labor, and that the solemn address which he 
 had presented before him, on his first engaging in 
 it, had been heard and accepted. u The essays 
 professedly serious, if I have been able to execute 
 my own intentions, will be found exactly conforma- 
 ble to the precepts of Christianity, without any ac- 
 commodation to the licentiousness and levity of the 
 present age. I therefore look back on this part of 
 my work with pleasure, which no praise of man 
 shall diminish or augment. I shall never envy the 
 honors which wit and learning obtain in any other 
 cause, if I can be numbered among the writers who 
 have given ardor to virtue, and confidence to truth. 
 
 " Celestial Powers ! that piety regard ; 
 From you my labors wait their last reward." 
 
 Soon after the publication of the Rambler, John- 
 son's wife died. This event affected him in the 
 deepest manner; and the morbid melancholy to 
 which he was constitutionally subject, acquired addi- 
 tional force. In his volume of " Prayers and Med- 
 itations," we find very remarkable evidence that his 
 strong affection for her never ceased, even after her 
 death.
 
 224 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 In May, 1755, he completed and published his 
 Dictionary, having proceeded in this astonishing 
 work, with little assistance from the learned, and no 
 patronage from the great ; and erected for posterity 
 a durable monument of the profundity of his know- 
 ledge, and versatility of his genius. 
 
 Notwithstanding this great man's various and ex- 
 cellent publications, he continued in a state of pov- 
 erty, until the royal bounty, in 1762, raised him 
 above the reach of want, by a pension of 300/. a 
 year, given expressly as a reward for the merit and 
 moral tendency of his writings. Two years after, 
 he instituted, and ever assisted to support, " The 
 Literary Club," which was a stated meeting of sev- 
 eral men of high intellectual powers. His superior 
 talents made his company highly acceptable, to eve- 
 ry rank of the witty, the elegant, and the wise. His 
 peculiarities were lost and forgotten in the admira- 
 tion of his understanding, while his virtues were re- 
 garded with veneration, and his opinions copied with 
 submission. The same energy of mind which was 
 displayed in his literary productions exhibited itself 
 in his conversation, which was various, striking and 
 instructive. His reputation began to extend, and 
 his fame to be established ; and the universities of 
 Dublin and Oxford sent him an honorary degree of 
 Doctor of Laws. At different periods he contin- 
 ued to publish works of various descriptions, but 
 agreeing in their ultimate tendency to diffuse know- 
 ledge, morality and religion. His last production of 
 consequence was " The Lives of the Poets," of 
 which he says in a previous memorandum, " written, 
 [ hope, in such a manner as may tend to the promo- 
 tion of piety."
 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 225 
 
 His charity to the poor was constant and exten- 
 sive, and he performed many acts of the most disin- 
 terested benevolence. In his dealings, he was 
 strictly just and conscientious, and trembled at the 
 thought of defrauding another, even in the most tri- 
 fling instance. Hearing, near the close of his life, 
 that his father had died indebted to a certain book- 
 seller for the sum of 30 pounds, he diligently 
 sought out his descendant, and left him in his will 
 200 pounds, that injustice might not rest upon the 
 memory of his father. In his attention to veracity, 
 even in the most trivial assertion, " he was," says an 
 intimate acquaintance, " without equal or example." 
 From the slightest to the most solemn narration, he 
 was strict even to severity, and scorned to embel- 
 lish a story with the least fictitious circumstance. 
 " A story," he would say, " should be a specimen of 
 life and manners ; if the surrounding circumstances 
 are false, it is no longer a representation of reality, 
 and no more a subject of attention." 
 
 His piety was exemplary and edifying ; he was 
 punctiliously exact to perform every public duty en- 
 joined by the church, and his spirit of devotion had 
 an energy that affected all who ever heard him pray in 
 private. The coldest and most languid hearers of 
 the word felt themselves animated by his manner of 
 reading the holy scriptures, and to pray by his sick 
 bed required great strength and firmness of mind, 
 so vehement were his manners and his tones of voice 
 so pathetic. He was a warm and able advocate for 
 the truth of the Christian religion, and expressed his 
 aversion to infidelity at all times without the smallest 
 reserve ; for no honest man, he would say, can be 
 19
 
 226 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 a deist, after a fair examination of the proofs of 
 Christianity. 
 
 In his personal appearance, he was neither beau- 
 tiful or agreeable, yet his countenance when com- 
 posed was contemplative and awful. It was capa- 
 ble of great expression, both in respect to intelli- 
 gence and mildness, particularly when in the glow 
 of conversation, or under the influence of grateful 
 feelings ; for his soul was .susceptible of gratitude, 
 and of every kind emotion. His mind was so com- 
 prehensive, that no language but his own could have 
 translated its contents ; and so ponderous was that 
 language, that sentiments less solid, or less lofty, 
 would have been encumbered, not adorned by it. 
 
 This great and excellent man frequently felt the 
 indispositions and pains annexed to a life of labori- 
 ous study, and in the summer of 1783, was attack- 
 ed, during the night, with a paralytic stroke, which 
 deprived him of the powers of speech. Finding 
 himself unable to articulate a syllable, he wrote thus 
 to a neighboring confidential friend. " Dear Sir, 
 it hath pleased Almighty God, this morning to de- 
 prive me of the power of speech ; and as I do not 
 know but it might be his further good pleasure to 
 deprive me soon of my senses, I request you will, 
 on the receipt of this m)te, come to me, and act for 
 me, as the exigencies of my case may require." 
 
 Among the legacies of his last will and testament, 
 he left the sum of 70 pounds a year, to his faithful 
 negro man servant, who was often the subject of 
 his prayers, and of his dying exhortations. From 
 this severe shock he seemed in a few months al- 
 most entirely to recover, but in the conclusion of the 
 year 1784, he was seized with the dropsy in such a
 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 227 
 
 manner as to leave his friends little hope of his re- 
 covery. At times he labored under a mental depres- 
 sion and agitation, and at intervals possessed his 
 usual flow of spirits, and composure of soul. He 
 insisted that his physician should tell him candidly 
 of his situation, and when he answered that " from 
 the complication of his disorders, and his advanced 
 state of life, there could be little hope, except from 
 miracles," he listened with firmness, thanked him, 
 and said he would endeavor to compose himself (or 
 the approaching scene. To each of his three phy- 
 sicians he gave a copy of his " Lives of the Poets," 
 as a testimony of affectionate remembrance, and 
 then, realizing the fallacy of medicine to one so near 
 the grave, persisted in taking no more opiates, " for 
 I have prayed," said he, " that I may resign my soul 
 to God unclouded." 
 
 For some time before his death he received the 
 sacrament two or three times in each week, with 
 great humility and solemnity. An intimate friend 
 one day entered his room, just after this affecting 
 ceremony: -"Oh! my friend," exclaimed he, "I 
 have owed you many obligations through my life, 
 but they will all be more than amply repaid by your 
 taking this most important advice ; be a good Chris- 
 tian." His fears were all calmed and absorbed by the 
 prevalence of his faith, and his trust in the merits 
 and propitiation of Jesus Christ ; and to those about 
 him he often dwelt upon the necessity of faith in 
 that great sacrifice. To his affectionate black ser- 
 vant he often said, u attend, Francis, to the salvation 
 of your soul, which is the object of greatest impor- 
 tance ;" and seemed to take pleasure in explaining 
 to him passages of Scripture, and giving him religious
 
 228 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 instruction. Cherishing thus in his mind the true 
 Christian scheme, both rational and consolatory, 
 uniting justice and mercy in the Divinity, with the 
 improvement of human nature, while the holy sacra- 
 ment was celebrated in his apartment, he fervently 
 uttered this prayer. 
 
 " Almighty God, and most merciful Father, I am 
 now, as to human eyes it seems, about to comme- 
 morate for the last time the death of thy son Jesus 
 Christ, our Saviour and Redeemer. Grant, 
 Lord, that my whole hope and confidence may be in 
 his merits and thy mercy ; enforce and accept my 
 imperfect repentance ; make this commemoration 
 available to the confirmation of my faith, the estab- 
 lishment of my hope, and the enlargement of my 
 charity ; and make the death of thy son Jesus 
 Christ effectual to my redemption. Have mercy 
 upon me, and pardon the multitude of my offences. 
 Bless my friends ; have mercy upon all men : sup- 
 port me by thine Holy Spirit in the days of weak- 
 ness, and at the hour of death ; and receive me, 
 after death, to everlasting happiness, for the sake of 
 Jesus Christ. Amen." 
 
 The night before his death he suffered great 
 distress, but was perfectly composed ; steady in 
 hope, and resigned to death. At the interval of 
 every hour, his attendants assisted him to sit up in 
 his bed, and to move his limbs, which were incredibly 
 swollen, and in much pain. At these times, he 
 regularly addressed himself to fervent prayer, and 
 though sometimes his voice failed him, his senses 
 continued perfect, and his recollection unbroken. 
 He said his mind was prepared, and the time to his 
 dissolution seemed long. At six in the morning ho
 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 229 
 
 inquired the hour, and on being informed, said that 
 all went on regularly, and he felt he had but a few 
 hours to live. No man could appear more collected, 
 more devout, or less terrified at that awful moment 
 which comes to all. A little before his last moment, 
 the daughter of a particular friend of his, called, and 
 earnestly entreated permission to see him, that she 
 might beg him to give her his last blessing. Being 
 told who stood near him, he turned himself in his 
 bed, and said " God bless you my dear." 
 
 This was his last action, these were his last words ; 
 full of benevolence and devotion. His difficulty of 
 breathing increased till about seven in the evening, 
 when two friends who were sitting in the room, 
 observing that the sound of his respiration had 
 ceased, drew his curtains ; but nothing was there 
 save a breathless mass of clay, a countenance 
 pale and tranquil, and a heart no longer agitated with 
 mortal suffering. The many who had loved and 
 revered him in life, hasted to do him honor at his 
 death ; and seven days after his decease, his re- 
 mains were deposited in Westminster Abbey, and 
 covered with a stone bearing this inscription. 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, L.L. D. 
 
 Obiit 13 die Decembris, 
 
 . I inin Domini 
 
 1784. 
 
 SUCK 75. 
 
 An appropriate monument now marks the spot 
 where his ashes repose, but he has erected for 
 himself a more durable monument, in the reverence 
 of posterity, and has obtained, we trust, a more 
 noble mansion in the " house not made with hands." 
 19*
 
 REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 
 
 HE was the son of Thomas Whitefield, and Eliz- 
 abeth Edwards, was the youngest of seven children, 
 
 and born at Gloucester, (England) De- 
 1714. cember 16th, 1714. When a child of 
 
 two years old, he was deprived of his 
 father ; but his mother, by her assiduity and tender- 
 ness, endeavored to supply that early and afflicting 
 loss. His progress at school was commendable, 
 particularly between the years of 12 and 15, when 
 he proceeded rapidly in the Latin Classics ; but the 
 bent of his genius was towards eloquence, which 
 was observable during the first dawning of reason. 
 At 17, he became a devout communicant at the 
 Lord's table, spent a great part of his time in reli- 
 gious reading, prayer, fasting, and the appointed or- 
 dinances, so that his thoughts seemed constantly 
 exercised respecting the great truths of salvation. 
 The following year he entered the University of 
 Oxford, and rinding serious and practical piety in a 
 very low state among the established denominations, 
 he cultivated an acquaintance with the Methodists, 
 then a new sect, who seemed to display more of the 
 spirit and power of religion. 
 
 He was treated by them with particular kindness, 
 and received so much benefit from the preaching
 
 REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 231 
 
 and friendship of the Rev. Charles Wesley, that 
 he used to call him his spiritual father. lie now 
 began to divide his time methodically, and labor to 
 improve every moment to the best advantage ; he 
 visited the sick, and the prisoners, read to the poor, 
 and received the communion every Sabbath. For 
 daring to be thus singularly religious, he incurred 
 the hatred of his fellow-students, and daily felt the 
 effects of their unkind behaviour. , At his return 
 from the university, he preferred the sacred writings 
 to all other books, and from perusing them with 
 constant prayer, found unspeakable delight and ad- 
 vantage. He read three times a week to the poor 
 people of the town, prayed with the prisoners in the 
 county gaol every day, and by his conversation and 
 prayers awakened many minds. 
 
 At the age of 21, after much previous meditation 
 and prayer, he passed through the solemnities of 
 ordination, and at his first sermon in London his ap- 
 pearance of extreme youth excited the wonder of 
 the audience, and many sneered to see a stripling in 
 a gown, ascend the pulpit But he had not proceed- 
 ed far in his discourse, before their smiles gave 
 place to attention, and their contempt was turned 
 into reverence. The Spirit of God gave a blessing 
 to his earliest attempts, and those who mocked, sent 
 a complaint to his ordaining Bishop, that he " had 
 dnven fifteen mad with his first sermon." He con- 
 tinued to spend his time diligently and methodically ; 
 dividing every day into three parts ; eight for sleep 
 and meals ; eight for public prayers, catechising and 
 visiting ; and eight for study and retirement. His 
 general rule was to preach nine times in a week, 
 and sometimes four times on the Lord's day, and ad-
 
 232 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 minister the sacrament so early in the morning, that 
 the streets were seen filled with people, hastening 
 to church with lanthorns in their hands, and conver- 
 sing on the things of God. 
 
 When he preached, the largest churches were 
 scarcely able to contain the audience ; some would 
 hang upon the railing, others climb up to the leads 
 of the building, while the church would be so heated 
 with their breath, that the steam was seen to fall 
 from the pillars like drops of rain. But with his 
 popularity, opposition and the hatred of envy, sprung 
 up also, like tares among the wheat. Yet he found 
 comfort in the midst of discouragement from the 
 exercise of prayer, and when his strength was ex- 
 hausted by the labors of the day, would continue in 
 this duty, even till midnight ; and once spent a 
 whole night with a few associates, entreating for the 
 advancement of the gospel, and praising God. 
 About this time he received an invitation to go to 
 America, which agreed with his wishes. But when 
 in prospect of his departure, he mentioned in a dis- 
 course, " it might be they would see his face no 
 more," the whole congregation burst into a violent 
 flood of tears. Multitudes followed him home 
 weeping, and the next day he was employed from 
 seven in the morning till midnight, in advising, en- 
 couraging and directing inquiring souls. 
 
 As the time of his embarkation approached, they 
 grew still more affectionate and sorrowful ; and 
 would run and stop him in the alleys with wishful 
 looks, and eyes streaming with tears. The night 
 before his departure he spent in prayer, administer- 
 ed the Sacrament in the morning to his afflicted 
 friends, and after an almost insupportable parting,
 
 REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 233 
 
 left his native country. He found the crew of the 
 ship in which he sailed, very blasphemous and aban- 
 doned, and the officers gave him to understand thai 
 they viewed him as an impostor, and should treat 
 him as such. But so great was his perseverance in 
 the duties of his office, such his patience, mildness, 
 and firmness in declaring the truth, and such the di- 
 vine blessing on his prayers, that many were brought 
 to consider and reform, and the whole crew were 
 led to attend every day with great solemnity, to 
 preaching, exposition and prayer. They now exhib- 
 ited the regularity of a church, and he returned ma- 
 ny thanks for this voyage, which in its beginning 
 was so unpromising. 
 
 At his arrival in Georgia, he found every appear- 
 ance of a suffering infant colony. But he was re- 
 ceived with great kindness and cordiality, and after 
 preaching and instructing them, and projecting the 
 plan of a future Orphan-house, returned to England. 
 Here he found opposition assuming a new and for- 
 midable face. He \vas ridiculed as a Methodist, 
 and access denied him to many pulpRs. He began 
 at this time to preach without notes, in the open air, 
 and his audience sometimes amounted to 20 and 
 30,000. Having a remarkably strong, audible 
 voice, he rendered himself perfectly understood by 
 the most remote parts of the congregation, and was 
 frequently heard at the distance of a mile. He 
 sometimes encountered insults and danger, but he 
 counted not his life dear unto him. Though he 
 might have lived in ease and affluence, still he wan- 
 dered from place to place, stood and preached at 
 bowling greens, market places and highways, heard 
 himself blamed by friends, and reviled by enemies,
 
 234 BIOGfcAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 yet inwardly supported, he endured all things joy- 
 fully. After making frequent collections for his 
 Intended orphan-house, he returned to Georgia, and 
 on the 25th of March, 1740, laid the first stone of 
 the building, which he called Bethesda, the house 
 of mercy. He received forty orphans, provided 
 them with food and raiment, and employed a large 
 number of workmen, so that his family amounted to 
 nearly a hundred. 
 
 He travelled through a great part of the United 
 States, and though in a very ill state of health, 
 preached with great vigor and success. Three 
 times a day he was lifted on his horse, unable to 
 mount otherwise, then rode and preached, and when 
 he came into a house, would lay himself down on 
 two or three chairs. This course, he acknow- 
 ledged, would soon take him to his desired rest. 
 
 Alter passing through New England, awakening 
 many, and causing many to rejoice, he visited his 
 orphan-house, returned to England, and began his 
 circuits through Scotland, and Wales, where his 
 success in converting sinners and quickening saints, 
 was almost unparalleled. He felt it his incumbent 
 duty, to travel from kingdom to kingdom, and from 
 continent to continent, publishing the everlasting 
 gospel of the grace of God. Hardships, trials, 
 and dangers awaited him, but he bore them like a 
 good soldier of Jesus Christ. Once, while preach- 
 ing in Moorfields, during the holiday seasons, the 
 leaders of the customary diversions, enraged to find 
 their usually attendant throngs collected to hear him, 
 engaged a merry-andrew to mount upon a man's 
 shoulders, and with a long heavy whip annoy the 
 speaker. But he continued his sermon notwith-
 
 REV. GEORGE \\ 111 Tl.ll I.I.D. 233 
 
 standing blows ; they then sent a recruiting sergeant 
 with his drum, to pass through the congregation. 
 " Make way for the king's officer," said the unagi- 
 tated preacher, and the crowd quietly moved for 
 him to pass. The owners of the booths, enraged 
 to desperation, collected a large mob, and came on 
 in a most threatening manner, with drums, and war- 
 like instruments to attack the congregation. But 
 they maintained their ground, and \\hitefield prayed 
 earnestly for support and deliverance, when lo ! the 
 ferocious party quarrelled among themselves, threw 
 down their standard and retired, while the successful 
 saint continued for three hours to instruct and pray 
 with an attentive and weeping multitude. 
 
 At Plymouth, he was attacked at midnight in 
 his bed, by a soldier who pretended to come to con- 
 verse with him about religion, but who previously 
 laid a wager of ten guineas that he dared to murder 
 him. But God preserved him from the hand of 
 the murderer and also from the fury of the Roman 
 Catholics in Ireland, who, following him as he re- 
 turned from preaching, poured upon him vollies of 
 stones from all quarters, and made him reel back- 
 ward and forwards, till he was almost breathless. A 
 soldier and four preachers, who attended him, fled, 
 and left him to walk alone through hundreds of enrag- 
 ed papists. He received many wounds, particularly a 
 large one near his temples : " I thought then of Ste- 
 phen," said he, " and hoped to go, like him, in that 
 bloody triumph, to the immediate presence of my 
 Master." Speechless, and covered with blood, 
 he was at length received into the house of a min- 
 ister, where his wounds were washed, and his faint- 
 ing life restored.
 
 236 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 God had still more work for him to do, and with 
 renewed ardor he engaged in his service. He was 
 frequently brought low with illness; but nothing 
 damped his resolution. " Spare not the weak bo- 
 dy," he writes to a friend, " we are immortal till 
 our work is done. O ! for power equal to my will ! 
 I would fly from pole to pole, publishing the ever- 
 lasting gospel of the Son of God." When he was 
 not engaged in preaching or prayer, or composing 
 religious works, or visiting the distressed, or coun- 
 selling the inquiring, his mind was occupied in chari- 
 table and benevolent plans. Many poor were re- 
 lieved by his liberality, many widows supported, and 
 his Georgia Orphan house, whose expenses were 
 incredible, was converted by his perseverance into 
 an extensive, beautiful, and permanent institution. 
 This man was indeed a sign and wonder in the 
 earth. Who that knows the danger of frequently 
 and violently straining the lungs, especially in youth, 
 who that understands the delicacy of their struc- 
 ture, would suppose it possible, that a man for the 
 space of more than thirty years, should speak 
 in the compass of a single week, forty and often 
 sixty hours to many thousands, and after this labor 
 instead of taking rest should be offering up prayers, 
 intercessions, and hymns, not only in private, but 
 at every house where he was invited. Yet he con- 
 tinued to proclaim with earnestness, " Repent ye, 
 for the kingdom of heaven is at hand," not only in 
 every part of England, but in Wales, Scotland, 
 Ireland, in the Bermudas and America, from Geor- 
 gia to Boston. In journeyings often, in perils of 
 robbers, in perils of his own countrymen, in the 
 city, in the wilderness, on the ocean, among ene-
 
 RV. GEOKGB VvHITEFIELD. 237 
 
 inn-, among false brethren, in weariness, pain and 
 weakness, be approved himself a faithful minister 
 of Christ In the autumn of 1769, he embarked 
 the last time for America, and prepared to cross 
 the Atlantic the thirteenth time. His afflicted 
 friends breakfasted with him in the ship on the mor- 
 ning of his departure. " Oh," said he, " what mean 
 you, thus to weep and break my heart ?" At his 
 arrival he found his orphan-house in a flourishing 
 situation, and went on still to beautify and improve 
 it, calculating to connect with it an Academy and 
 College. The Governor, Council and Assembly 
 of Georgia, being invited to visit it and attend di- 
 vine service in its chapel, expressed their admira- 
 tion and gratitude in the warmest terms to its Bene- 
 factor. 
 
 In the summer of 1770, he left his beloved 
 Bethesda to journey northward, calculating to return 
 to it when the cool season commenced ; but God, 
 who seeth not as man seeth, had decreed that he 
 should return thither no more. He writes, " Preach-* 
 ing is my catholicon, and praying my antidote to 
 every trial. The Lord only knows how he will be 
 pleased to dispose of me ; great afflictions I am 
 sure of having ; and a sudden death, blessed be 
 God, will not be terrible. I know that my Re- 
 deemer liveth." As he passed through the middle 
 and eastern states, he continually preached to large 
 and attentive congregations, and was received by 
 them with affection and reverence, as if he had 
 been an angel of God. 
 
 As he journeyed in Massachusetts, in the au- 
 tumn of 1770, he was greatly importuned to preach 
 at Exeter, and though considerably indisposed, 
 20
 
 238 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 addressed to a multitude in the fields there, a dis- 
 course of two hours in continuance. Before he 
 went out to preach that day, a friend observing that 
 he looked very ill. said, " Sir, you are more fit to 
 go to bed than to preach." " True, Sir," answered 
 the patient sufferer, and turning aside, clasped his 
 hands, and raising his eyes to heaven, prayed audi- 
 bly, " Lord Jesus, I am weary in thy work, but not 
 o/thy work. If I have not yet finished my course, 
 let me go and speak for thee once more in the fields, 
 seal thy truth, and come home and die." How 
 visibly was that request granted ! He went, and 
 spake in the fields, sealed the truth of his master, 
 came home and died. From the 12th of the se- 
 cond of Corinthians, the dying man spake to the 
 concourse, " Of myself I will not glory, but in my 
 infirmities." After sermon he rode to Newbury- 
 port, with his friend, the Rev. Mr. Parsons, supped 
 and retired early. 
 
 His servant found him reading in the Bible, with 
 Dr. Watts's Psalms lying open beside him. Kneel- 
 ing down by his bed, he closed the evening with 
 prayer, and rested quietly till two in the morning, 
 when he awoke panting for breath, and asked that 
 the window might be raised higher. " I wish," 
 said his anxious servant, "you would not preach 
 so often." " I had rather wear out, than rust out," 
 he answered. Raising himself in the bed, he lifted 
 up his voice in its last earthly prayer. He prayed 
 for a blessing upon his preaching the preceding day, 
 that many souls might be brought to Christ ; ask- 
 ed for direction in his journey, for a blessing on his 
 Bethesda College, and his dear orphans, for his 
 congregations in England, and all his connections
 
 REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 239 
 
 there ; and then composed himself to sleep again. 
 In an hour and a quarter he awoke. " My asthma, 
 my asthma is coming on ; I wish I had not promis- 
 ed to preach at Haverhill on Monday. I fear I 
 shall not be able ; but I shall see what a day will 
 bring forth." 
 
 His servant, in preparing a medicine, awaked 
 Mr. Parsons, who came in, and inquired how he 
 felt. "I am almost suffocated," said he, "my 
 asthma quite chokes me." Drawing his breath 
 with extreme difficulty and pain, he rose, and stood 
 at an open window. Turning to his servant, he 
 said, " I am dying." "01 hope not, sir," said the 
 afflicted attendant. He ran panting to the other 
 window, but could find no relief. " I am dying," 
 repeated he, and spake no more. They persuaded 
 him to swallow a little warm wine, to sit down, and 
 be covered with his cloak, while they sent to hasten 
 the physician. His eyes were now fixed, and his 
 under lip drawing in, every time he respired. The 
 physician as he entered, felt his pulse, and exclaimed, 
 " He is a dead man." " I do not believe it," said 
 Mr. Parsons, " you must do something." " I cannot, 
 he is now near his last breath." This was indeed 
 so ; for stretching himself out, with one gasp he 
 expired. This was exactly at six o'clock, on the 
 morning of the Sabbath, September 30, 1770. 
 Unwilling to believe that he must speak to them no 
 more, they bathed him in heated spirits, laid him in 
 a warm bed, and continued to rub him with warm 
 flannel, to raise him upright, and to hold warm spirits 
 to his nose, for more than an hour, till they were 
 convinced that no life remained.
 
 240 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 While thus they strove to wake the senseless dust, 
 High soar'd the spirit with its kindred just, 
 Explor'd the climes remote from pain and wo, 
 Nor cast a glance on toils so vain, below. 
 
 This was the end of a man, endowed with every- 
 thing amiable and excellent. He united two char- 
 acters which are not often seen in unison : the 
 finished, complete gentleman ; and the humble, 
 ardent Christian. Nature had given him a graceful 
 and well proportioned person ; a manly and expres- 
 sive countenance ; a deportment easy and prepos- 
 sessing. His eyes were of a dark blue color, and 
 very sprightly ; his complexion fair ; his person in 
 youth slender, and inclined to move with grace and 
 agility, in gesture suitable to his discourse. Some 
 years before his death, when his health began to 
 decline, he was observed to grow more corpulent. 
 He was temperate in eating and drinking, even to a 
 proverb ; and remarkably neat in his person and 
 apparel, sometimes observing pleasantly, " that a 
 minister of Christ should be without spot." Ho 
 had a voice of incredible strength, yet tempered 
 with an uncommon degree of sweetness, and his 
 command of it was wonderful. His pronunciation 
 was manly and graceful, nor was he ever at a loss 
 for the most natural and strong expression. His 
 eloquence was devoid of all appearance of affecta- 
 tion ; he seemed quite unconscious of the talents 
 he possessed, and would lose himself in regard for 
 his hearers, and the importance of the subject he 
 preached. He spoke like one who did not seek 
 their applause, but who, from a principle of unfeigned
 
 REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 241 
 
 love was anxious for their best interests, and de- 
 sirous to lead them in the right way. 
 
 He commanded the attention of multitudes as if 
 by magic : the feelings of the most thoughtless were 
 solemnized ; they would hang upon his lips. The 
 most rude and unimpressible would soften into tears, 
 and when he enforced the gentle claims of charity, 
 the avaricious would impart so liberally, that when 
 they returned to their former tempers, they would be 
 induced to think that their* money had been drawn 
 from them by magic. The grand sources of his 
 eloquence were an exceeding lively imagination, 
 which made people think (hey saw what he described ; 
 an action still more lively, if possible, by which, 
 while every accent of his voice spoke to the ear, 
 every feature of his face, every motion of his hands 
 and body spoke to the eye ; and a heart of such 
 acute sensibility, that being susceptible itself of 
 every tender and generous emotion, it knew the 
 direct approaches to the hearts of others. He had 
 also an elevation of mind, which raised him equally 
 above praise and censure, and added force and 
 dignity to all he said. He had a soul deeply exer- 
 cised in the social, pious and religious affections, 
 and was at the same time most remarkably commu- 
 nicative and sincere ; by which means he was 
 peculiarly fitted to awaken like feelings in others, 
 and to sympathize with every one who had them. 
 
 Great was the blessing attendant on his unwearied 
 exertions, and humble prayers ; and many souls 
 were given him as crowns of his rejoicing. But 
 now his warfare is finished ; he has fought the good 
 fight, and like a hero, died on the field of battle. 
 20*
 
 242 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 After exhibiting in his life all the virtues of the 
 Christian character, the whole scope of its activity, 
 the whole ardor of its zeal, he obtained the extent 
 of his prayers ; a visible blessing upon his labors, 
 and a sudden dismission to everlasting rest.
 
 REV. SAMUEL BUELL. 
 
 SAMUEL BUELL was born at Coventry, in Con- 
 necticut, Sept. 1, 1716. His father was a wealthy 
 farmer, and for many years having no 
 
 1716. other son, destined him for the pursuits of 
 agriculture, in which line of life his pros- 
 pects were flattering. But in the 17th year of his 
 age, he became a subject of strong conviction and 
 thorough awakening, and found his views so 
 changed, as to desire to leave the plenty and wealth 
 of his expected situation, for the more difficult and 
 eventful life of a preacher of the gospel. After 
 seeking for two years the direction of God by 
 prayer, closely observing the prevailing temper of 
 his heart, and advising with his friends, he entered 
 on a course of study, received the honors of Yale 
 College in 1741, and the same year was licensed, 
 after passing the usual examinations to general 
 satisfaction. His preaching was remarkably bles- 
 sed with full demonstration of the Spirit, many 
 owned him as their spiritual father, and he was the 
 first instrument of the great revival at Northampton, 
 in 1742, in the time of President Edwards. 
 
 After laboring successfully as an itinerant preach- 
 er for the space of five years, he was installed at 
 East Hampton, on Long Island, in September,
 
 244 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 1746, and a people who had before been greatly 
 divided, became in him as remarkably united. 
 Here he prosecuted his studies with great ardor, 
 performing his parochial duties with equal zeal, 
 frequently preaching many times in the week, cate- 
 chising the children, instructing the youth, adminis- 
 tering consolation to the distressed, showing mercy 
 to the poor. His favorite maxim was, " usefulness 
 in life." His spiritual labors were succeeded by 
 three great and general revivals, at one of which no 
 less than 99 persons came forth at once to take 
 upon them the vows of Christ, beside considerable 
 numbers at other seasons of awakening. His 
 church was noted for its sobriety, and his people for 
 their strong attachment to him. 
 
 In the revolutionary contest, when that beautiful 
 island became for a time the theatre of war, and 
 when the inhabitants were flying in every direction 
 before the enemy, he thought it his duty to remain 
 like a true shepherd with the remnant of his flock. 
 He successfully exerted his utmost influence in 
 favor of the distressed ; by his instrumentality many 
 impossible demands of the enemy were recalled, 
 and many rigorous ones softened ; and though his 
 activity often excited the resentment of an imperi- 
 ous soldiery, and his life was more than once immi- 
 nently endangered, he shrunk not from his post, 
 and as he had before been the father, so was he now 
 the defender of his people. The accumulated care 
 of the neighboring churches lay also upon him, as 
 there was but one minister within forty miles, able 
 to do service, and he was confined to his own pa- 
 rish by the infirmities of age. What this zealous, 
 active, and courageous man performed in those
 
 REV. SAMUEL BUELL. 245 
 
 days of darkness and dismay, it is impossible for 
 me in these narrow limits to recount. Suffice it to 
 say, that his praise was in the mouths of multitudes, 
 as it had been before in the churches. 
 
 Dr. Buell's publications are, fourteen sermons on 
 peculiarly important subjects and occasions, and a 
 narrative of the work of God among the people of 
 his charge in 1740. These are expressions of a 
 strong mind and ardent piety, and have been rend 
 with pleasure and advantage by the lovers of experi- 
 mental religion. Of his public spirit, and love of 
 science, Clinton Academy, in East Hampton, is a 
 monument ; for of this institution he was the father 
 and patron. In his private character he possessed 
 a happy disposition, a sprightly genius, and an active 
 mind. " Whatever his hand found to do he did it 
 with his might." He was much of the gentleman 
 as well as the Christian ; in the various relations of 
 husband, parent, master, friend, and neighbor, he 
 was affectionate and happy : his house was the 
 mansion of hospitality, and no man rejoiced more 
 than he in receiving and entertaining his friends. 
 .Hut though to his flock he was a pattern of Chris- 
 tian graces and duties, he excelled in nothing more 
 than in a spirit of devotion. Of the power and 
 efficacy of prayer he had the highest opinion, en- 
 deavored to excite others to its exercise, and abound- 
 ed in it himself. He considered it as a necessary 
 part of preparation for the sanctuary, and found the 
 exercises of the pulpit which were generally his de- 
 light and his life, burdensome without it He enter- 
 tained a deep sense of his dependence upon God 
 for every enjoyment, and was disposed to acknow- 
 ledge and trust in him under every changing cir-
 
 246 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 cumstance. Thus in his sermon upon the death of 
 his first wife he expresses himself, " I hope your can- 
 dor will not deem it ostentation for me to say that 
 my comforts were received with prayer, praise, 
 and the joy of trembling ; and have been parted 
 with, however nature might oppose, with prayer* 
 submission, and at last, praise." 
 
 He was a man whose joys and afflictions were 
 great and peculiar ; he laid in the t grave the remains 
 of two wives in whom he was very happy, and of eight 
 children, which, in connection with lour servants, 
 make the deaths in his family amount to fourteen. 
 He was accustomed to preach on the occasion of 
 a death in his household, that his people might reap 
 benefit from his bereavements. Two of these dis- 
 courses are published, and show a sweet compo- 
 sure of mind and resignation of spirit ; one on the 
 death of a daughter of great accomplishments and 
 piety ; the other his only son, a religious youth of 
 sixteen, whose excellent talents were improved by 
 a classical education, and whom he had viewed as 
 the supporter of his name, the hope of his family, 
 and his successor in the ministry. 
 
 It was the prayer of this extraordinary man, that 
 he might not outlive his usefulness, a prayer fervent- 
 ly offered, and signally answered. The day he was 
 eighty years old he rode fourteen miles, preached, 
 and returned home in the evening ; and firm health, 
 and soundness of mind, the probable result of the 
 strictest temperance, continued with him till the last. 
 He preached the Sabbath but one before his death* 
 and just as he entered his 83d year, an illness seized 
 him that was short, severe and mortal. The warmth 
 and propriety of his exhortations to those around
 
 REV. SAMUEL BUELL. 247 
 
 him proved the firmness of his intellect ; while on 
 his countenance there was an expression of joy like 
 that of a wanderer who sees his long parted home. 
 His soul was so attracted to a better world, that 
 he could not bear that the assiduities of his friends 
 should strive to detain him in this, and with his eyes 
 and his affections turned from the vanities of time 
 he seemed triumphantly to enter into the joys of his 
 Lord, on Thursday, July 19, 1798.
 
 WILLIAM COW PER, 
 
 WILLIAM COWPER, an excellent moral poet, was 
 descended from an ancient family, distinguishable 
 both for rank and talents ; and was the son of the 
 Rev. John Cowper, chaplain of George II. He 
 was born at Great Barkhamstead, in the 
 1731. year 1731, and at the age of 6 was de- 
 prived of his excellent mother, whose loss 
 he deeply deplored. His filial tenderness and af- 
 fection for her memory are touchingly delineated in 
 a little poem occasioned by the sight of her picture, 
 more than 50 years after her death. He seemed 
 peculiarly to require the attentions of maternal ten- 
 derness, not only from the feebleness of his consti- 
 tution, but from that shrinking timidity of mind, 
 which was confirmed into the most oppressive diffi- 
 dence, and occasionally darkened into deplorable 
 melancholy. He passed through the forms of a 
 public education, with the same painful susceptibili- 
 ty of mind, yet his intellectual powers, strong and 
 ardent, shone with clear splendor through the veil 
 that encompassed them. His biographer remarks 
 that, " reserved as he was, to an extraordinary and 
 painful degree, his heart and mind were yet admira- 
 bly fitted by nature for all the refined intercourse, 
 and confidential delights of friendship and of love ;
 
 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 249 
 
 but though formed to possess and communicate an 
 extraordinary portion of human felicity, the incidents 
 of his life, and the susceptibility of his feelings were 
 such, as to render him at different times deeply de- 
 pressed and unhappy." 
 
 He had acquired a competent knowledge of the 
 law, and was appointed reading clerk to the House 
 of Lords, yet his terror of appearing in that public 
 character so tortured his timid and delicate mind as 
 to destroy at once his health and mental tranquillity. 
 His anxious friends immediately placed him under 
 the care of Dr. Cotton, a celebrated physician and 
 poet, whose medical skill and benignity of manners, 
 were rendered instrumental by the blessing of Heav- 
 en to the comfort of the reviving invalid. About 
 this time, distressing apprehensions for his eternal 
 welfare were added to his constitutional sadness, till 
 by the power of divine grace, his gloom and terror 
 gave way to the lustre of comfort and delight. Just 
 and cheering views of evangelical truth arose in his 
 mind, while reading the third chapter of Romans, 
 and from the most distressing anxiety, he found that 
 the contemplations and exercises of devotion were 
 unspeakably dear to his reviving spirit. The con- 
 solation which he experienced after the severest dis- 
 tress he thus describes in an affecting allegory. 
 
 " I was a stricken deer, that left the herd 
 Long since ; with many an arrow deep infix'd, 
 My panting side was charg'd, when I withdrew 
 To seek a tranquil death in distant shades. 
 There was I (bund by one who had himself 
 Been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore 
 And in his hands and feet the cruel scars. 
 With gentle force soliciting the darts, 
 He drew them forth, and hcal'd, and bade me live." 
 21
 
 250 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 In this pleasing tranquillity of mind, he resolved 
 to withdraw himself from the bustle and intercourse 
 of a vexatious world, and enjoy the delights of re- 
 tirement and of poetry. In the affectionate family 
 of the Rev. Mr. Unwin, he found a beloved asylum, 
 where he spent almost the whole of his remaining 
 life, and composed the principal part of his literary 
 productions. His translations of Homer's Iliad and 
 Odyssey ; of Milton's Latin and Italian poems ; 
 his own " Task," fugitive pieces and Letters, furnish 
 many volumes, and bear witness at once to his indus- 
 try and genius, his amiable character, and exalted 
 piety. During his residence at Olney, he was under 
 the pastoral care of the celebrated Mr. Newton, and 
 their endeared and intimate friendship, is thus men- 
 tioned by that remarkable clergyman. " For nearly 
 twelve years, we were seldom separated for seven 
 hours at a time, when we were awake and at home. 
 The first of those six years I passed in daily admir- 
 ing and endeavoring to imitate him ; during the sec- 
 ond six, I walked pensively with him in the valley 
 of the shadow of death." Cowper, in his whole 
 life and conversation, was indeed a follower of Christ. 
 In his secret devotions he was regular and fervent ; 
 in his charities frequent, and liberal, notwithstanding 
 his limited finances. " He loved the poor," says 
 the Reverend Mr. Newton, " he often visited them 
 in their cottages, conversed with them in the most 
 condescending manner, sympathised with them ; 
 counselled and comforted them in their distresses ; 
 and those who were seriously disposed, were often 
 cheered and animated by his prayers." 
 
 Over the last years of his life was drawn a cloud 
 of mental depression. It was the effect of physi-
 
 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 251 
 
 cal disorder, and a broken constitution, and gradual- 
 ly undermined his strong intellectual powers. But 
 his sorrows were mercifully terminated by a most 
 mild and tranquil dissolution, for he passed through 
 the awful passage of death so gently, that although 
 five persons were anxiously observing him, not one 
 perceived him to expire : but he had ceased to 
 breathe, about five minutes before 5 in the after- 
 noon, April 25, 1800.
 
 DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 
 
 JAMES BEATTIE was born October 25, 1735, at 
 Lawrencekirk, an obscure harnlet, in the county of 
 Kincardine, in Scotland. His father sup- 
 1735. ported his family, principally by the em- 
 ployment of agriculture, and resided on 
 the same spot which his ancestors had cultivated 
 for many generations. Our poet was the youngest 
 of six children, and if from his family he derived, in 
 the eyes of the world, no additional lustre, he at 
 least incurred no disgrace, for they were examples 
 of honesty and integrity, and distinguished in their 
 neighborhood as the possessors of superior under- 
 standing. His mother, whose maiden name was 
 Jane Watson, was thought a woman of uncommon 
 abilities, and after the death of her husband, con- 
 tinued his business, and educated her youngest son 
 at the parish school of Lawrencekirk. 
 
 At the age of 14, he commenced his academical 
 course, at Marischal College, Aberdeen, and be- 
 came a candidate for one of the bursaries provided 
 for the students of slender finances. No humilia- 
 ting idea was annexed to the appellation of Bursar, 
 at Aberdeen, which signifies only the receiver of an 
 annual stipend, given as the reward of diligence in 
 learning, and superior merit. On the first year of
 
 DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 253 
 
 his attendance he gained the premium from his 
 whole class, and used often to acknowledge with 
 gratitude, that here, by the encouragement of Dr. 
 Blackwell, the principal of the University, he was 
 first led to believe himself possessed of any genius. 
 He finished his course of study, in four years, and 
 at the age of 18 was appointed parochial school- 
 master of Fourdon, a small hamlet at the foot of the 
 Grampian Mountains. Here in the bosom of soli- 
 tude, estranged from literary society, and in a great 
 measure from books', his amusements were the con- 
 templation of the sublime scenery which his resi- 
 dence afforded, and the cultivation of those poetical 
 powers, which were afterwards to charm all who 
 could estimate the delineated beauties of nature, or 
 the fine combinations of harmony 
 
 But in the fifth year of his seclusion, he was call- 
 ed to the more lucrative office of usher in a gram- 
 mar school at Aberdeen, and in a short time was 
 presented with the chair and professorship of Moral 
 Philosophy, in the University where he was edu- 
 cated ; an office far exceeding his most sanguine 
 hopes, but not transcending his talents or qualifica- 
 tions. 
 
 At the age of 24 he was installed in his new dig- 
 nity, and found himself suddenly raised to a station 
 of much respectability, to the cherished intimacy of 
 men of the first moral and literary character, and to 
 a sphere from whence knowledge of the most im- 
 portant nature might be widely disseminated. 
 
 His first care was to prepare a course of lectures 
 
 on the sciences of Moral Philosophy and Logic, 
 
 which afterwards, condensed and perfected, were 
 
 given to the world under the title of " Elements of 
 
 21*
 
 254 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 Science." His duty was to teach in his class three 
 hours of every week day, during the term, at 8, at 
 11, and at 3. He began his prelections with the 
 " Offices of Cicero," of which every student read 
 and translated a part at their morning meeting ; and 
 at the next hour he commented upon the part under 
 review, compared it with the other systems of hea- 
 then philosophy, examined them on the substance 
 of what they had heard, and at the end of this intro- 
 ductory course, dictated an abstract of the whole, 
 which they committed to writing. 
 
 His next course was Natural Theology, Specula- 
 tive and Practical Ethics, Economics, Jurispru- 
 dence, Politics, Rhetoric and Logic. Of each of 
 these branches, he dictated in the morning an ab- 
 stract, on which, as on a text-book, he commented 
 at the two succeeding lectures of the day, in the 
 most clear, lively, and engaging manner ; examin- 
 ing his pupils, as he proceeded, on the attention 
 they had paid, and the benefit they had derived. 
 He read also the Greek and Latin classics, and re- 
 quired them to translate as literally as the genius of 
 the English language would permit. His indeftrti- 
 gable diligence, and exemplary carriage, excited not 
 only the affection and reverence of his own class, 
 but the whole body of students at the university, 
 looked up to him with esteem and veneration. 
 The profound piety of the public prayers, with which 
 he began the business of each day, arrested the at- 
 tention of the youngest and most thoughtless ; the 
 excellence of his moral character, his gravity, 
 blended with cheerfulness, his strictness, joined with 
 gentleness, his favor to the virtuous and diligent, 
 and even the mildness of his reproofs, to those who
 
 DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 255 
 
 were less attentive, rendered him the object of re- 
 spect and veneration. 
 
 Never was more exact discipline preserved than 
 in his class, and never by more gentle means. His 
 sway was absolute, but it was founded in reason 
 and affection. He never employed a harsh epithet 
 in instances of his pupils' misconduct, and when 
 instead of a rebuke which they were conscious of 
 deserving, they received merely a mild reproof, it 
 was conveyed in such a manner as to throw not 
 only the offender, but sometimes the whole class, 
 into tears. 
 
 To gain his favor was the highest ambition of ev- 
 ery student ; and his gentlest word of disapproba- 
 tion was a punishment which no exertion was too 
 great to avoid. His great object was, not merely 
 to make his pupils philosophers, but to render them 
 good men, pious Christians, attached to their gov- 
 ernment, pure in morals, happy in the consciousness 
 of a right conduct, and friends to all mankind. " As 
 far as the principles of those committed to my care 
 depend upon me," says one of his confidential let- 
 ters, " I hold myself accountable to my own con- 
 science and the public." Those who had the bene- 
 fit of his instructions are never weary of expatiating 
 on his unwearied attention, and continued course of 
 examination and repetition, that he might imprint up- 
 on their minds the pure precepts of philosophy, and 
 sublime truths of religion. Nor did his care for 
 them cease with their term of study ; it was his pe- 
 culiar delight to assist in their future establishment, 
 which he had often in his power by recommending 
 them as schoolmasters, or private teachers, and in 
 their future welfare he took the interest of a father,
 
 256 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 and counselled and instructed them by his corres- 
 pondence. 
 
 In perusing the voluminous collection of letters 
 which he received from them, it is extremely pleas- 
 ing to find so great a number Irom young men in 
 different parts of the world, particularly America, 
 and the West Indies, all of them expressing their 
 gratitude for the benefit of his care and instructions, 
 and some of them for the advantageous situations 
 they had obtained through his instrumentality. Such 
 was the method of Beattie's tuition, and a diary of 
 his, in the keeping of his friends, records what was 
 done in his class, every day, for more than thirty 
 years, and displays his diligence and solicitude in a 
 stronger light than any studied eulogium. 
 
 To his own private studies he gave also a propor- 
 tion of time, and diligent attention. From childhood 
 he had borne among his schoolfellows, the appella- 
 tion of " the Poet," but his first publication of con- 
 sequence was a small volume of occasional poems, 
 in the year 1760. This, without patronage, issued 
 from the London press, where the author was un- 
 known, but its intrinsic merit gained the applause of 
 the best judges, and conferred upon him the title of 
 original genius. 
 
 On the 28th of June, 1767, he was married to 
 Miss Mary Dun, only daughter of the Rector of 
 the Grammar School at Aberdeen, to whom he was 
 attracted by sympathy of taste, and agreeable ac- 
 complishments. Three years after, appeared his 
 *' Essay on the Nature and Immutability of Truth," 
 in opposition to the infidel writers of the day. It 
 was particularly directed at Hume, who then wrs 
 in the zenith of his popularity, opulence, and litera- 
 21*
 
 DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 257 
 
 ry reputation ; but who, having imbibed the princi- 
 ples of a cold-hearted, and gloomy philosophy, 
 whose direct tendency was to distract the mind with 
 doubts on subjects the most serious and important, 
 strove to undermine the best interests, and dissolve 
 the {strongest bands of society. 
 
 In the defence of truth, Beattie arose with the 
 energy of one who feels in earnest, and with the 
 warmth of a Christian. In a letter to a friend he 
 says, " being honored with the care of a part of the 
 British youth, and considering it as my indispensa- 
 ble duty, from which I trust I shall never deviate, to 
 guard their minds against impiety and error, I have 
 endeavored to form a right estimate of Mr. Hume's 
 philosophy, not only of his peculiar tenets, but also 
 of their connection and consequence. But a scheme 
 like this cannot be popular, far less lucrative. It 
 will rayse me enemies, and expose me to the most 
 rigid criticism, but I trust in Providence, and in the 
 goodness of my cause, that my attempts in behalf 
 of truth shall not be altogether ineffectual, and that 
 my labors shall be attended with some utility to my 
 fellow creatures." 
 
 Soon after this publication lie was attacked by an 
 host of infidel writers, madly pursuing the champion 
 who had entered their strong holds, and laid open 
 their untenable fortresses. But the praises of good 
 men, and the thanks of Christians, consoled him, 
 and within, was the silent approbation of his own 
 heart. The most judicious critics, the most distin- 
 guished characters in England, admired the work, 
 and sought the intimacy of the author ; and the 
 king, patronizing both him and his cause, granted 
 him a yearly pension of 200 pounds. Raised to
 
 258 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 wealth and honor, by a work from which he expect- 
 ed neither, he was taught to realize that a reward 
 even in this life often follows the zealous and firm 
 discharge of duty. 
 
 In a short time followed the publication of his 
 " Minstrel," a work in which the progress of genius 
 in the human mind, and descriptions of the imagery 
 of nature, are combined with the purest moral sen- 
 timents, and clothed with the melody and majesty 
 of which English verse is susceptible. In its differ- 
 ent sphere it was not less celebrated than his essay, 
 and it still remains a monument of exquisite taste, 
 and harmonious versification. " It seems to me," 
 said the virtuous Lord Lyttleton, after his first pe- 
 rusal of it, "that my beloved minstrel, Thompson, 
 had come down from heaven, refined by the con- 
 verse of pure spirits, to let me hear him sing again, 
 the beauties of nature, and the finest feelings pf vir- 
 tue, not in human, but angelic strains." His visit 
 to London, the ensuing summer, was rendered 
 agreeable by the acquisition of many valuable 
 friends ; for kings and peers, bishops, poets and 
 philosophers, sought to proffer him their friendship, 
 and from this period his history is interwoven by 
 confidential correspondence with the most distin- 
 guished and venerated characters of the age. 
 
 The university of Oxford hastened to confer upon 
 him an honorary degree of Doctor of Laws, and on 
 the day of its public bestowment a Latin Oration 
 was pronounced in his praise by the Professor of 
 Civil Law, Dr. Vansittart, whijp the loud and reit- 
 erated applause of a vast concourse, convinced him 
 that his character was neither unknown, or disre- 
 garded. The celebrated artist, Sir Joshua Rey-
 
 DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 259 
 
 nolds, presented him with his portrait, and executed 
 an allegorical painting, representing him as large as 
 life, in the character of the champion of truth, while 
 an angel descending, darts its rays intensely from 
 a sun that blazes on his breast, and three figures, 
 differently representing Sophistry, Scepticism, and 
 Infidelity, are seen hiding their eyes, and refusing 
 " to come to the light lest their deeds should be re- 
 proved." This elegant performance was placed in 
 the Exhibition, as a specimen of the talents of that 
 ingenious and amiable artist. 
 
 The celebrated Mrs. Montague, referring to the 
 transactions of the times, says, in one of her letters, 
 " It is not on your account alone that I rejoice in 
 the honors and marks of distinction and applause 
 you have received, but I congratulate the age on 
 the zeal with which they pay regard to merit." In 
 this little extract of his life, I have been the more 
 diffuse upon this point, to show that the world has, 
 in one instance at least, wisely appreciated the ta- 
 lents and virtues of an obscure man. 
 
 In the spring of 1744, his removal to the more 
 flourishing university of Edinburgh was repeatedly 
 solicited, but in vain ; and immediately after, he re- 
 ceived several urgent requests from his friends in 
 London, to take orders and enter the Church of 
 England. His answer to Dr. Porteus, Eishop of 
 London, who offered him a living of 500/. ajear, is 
 an admirable display of purity of principles, 'and in- 
 tegrity of mind. Among the reasons that induced 
 him to decline the proposal, he numbers one, that 
 determined the humane, the pious Wilberforce, in a 
 similar choice ; " that his writings in favour of re- 
 ligion would be more attended to, if he continued a
 
 260 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 layman." He acknowledges that his opinions, stu- 
 dies, way of life, and habits of thinking, were in- 
 clined to that profession, that he had several times, 
 at different periods of life, been disposed to enter 
 it, but had been prevented by incidents so remarka- 
 ble, as without presumption might be considered 
 particular interpositions of Providence, and though, 
 for weighty reasons, he was then induced to de- 
 cline it, promises " to the last hour of his life to 
 preserve a most grateful remembrance of the 
 honor intended, and to employ that health and lei- 
 sure which Providence might afford, in opposing in- 
 fidelity, heresy and error, and in promoting, to the 
 utmost of his power, sound literature and Chris- 
 tian truth." 
 
 We have seen Beattie suddenly emerging from 
 the penury and seclusion that enveloped darkly the 
 first twenty-four years of his life, rising as it were 
 in a moment, to dignity, and wealth, and reputation, 
 and honor. We have seen no affliction mingling 
 with his prosperity, no difficulty obstructing his use- 
 fulness, no crime staining his name, and have 
 almost been led to suppose him exempted from the 
 many " ills that flesh is heir to." Yet he, too, had 
 afflictions ; and they fell where he was most vul- 
 nerable in his family. He was a man tremblingly 
 alive to every claim of sympathy, to every feeling 
 of affection, and where he most expected sympa- 
 thy, where he most looked for affection, he felt 
 deeply that "the heart knoweth its own bitter- 
 ness." His wife, in a very short time after their 
 marriage, gave evidence of a distempered mind, 
 and her disease at length terminated in hopeless 
 insanity. He watched over, and cherished her,
 
 DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 261 
 
 with the utmost tenderness, suffering anxious days 
 and sleepless nights, until the physicians pronounced 
 her seclusion from society absolutely necessary, 
 and he then procured for her every possible accom- 
 modation and comfort. " When I reflect on his 
 unwearied and unremitting attention to her," says 
 an intimate friend, " his character is exalted in my 
 mind to a degree which may be equalled, but 
 I am sure can never be excelled, and which makes 
 the fame of the poet and philosopher fade from my 
 remembrance." 
 
 Disappointed in his hope of rational domestic 
 enjoyment, he turned his undivided attention to the 
 education of his two sons. His eldest showed a 
 taste for a retired and studious life ; he had labored 
 from his infancy to instil correct moral and religious 
 principles into his mind, and was happy to find that 
 his genius inclined to the studies of theology, classi- 
 cal learning, morality, poetry and criticism. In 
 Latin, Greek and French, he was a successful 
 student, and so great was his proficiency, and so 
 faultless his deportment, that the university recom- 
 mended him to his majesty as a proper successor to 
 his father, and he was accordingly nominated as 
 Professor of Moral Philosophy at the age of nine- 
 teen. But he was a plant of short duration ; a 
 sudden decline seized him, and in his twenty-second 
 year, perceiving death to approach, he met it with 
 firmness and submission, without delirium or strug- 
 gle, complaint or groan. To the afflicted father in 
 this hour of wo, might be applied a line of his 
 own effusion 
 
 ' He thought as a sage, while he felt as a man." 
 22
 
 262 BIOGRAPHY OF PJOUS PERSONS. 
 
 In his account of the life of his son, prefixed to a 
 selection of his writings, he says, " the Lord gave, 
 and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name 
 of the Lord. I adore the Author of all good, who 
 gave him grace to lead such a life, and die such a 
 death, as makes it impossible for a Christian to 
 doubt of his having entered upon the inheritance of 
 a happy immortality." To his only remaining son 
 he now turned, as to a last hope. He was ten years 
 younger than his lost brother, and of a different 
 taste, yet his attainments in science were by no 
 means despisable, and his father educated him for 
 the church. But a cloud enveloped his fairest prds- 
 pects. This only surviving son became the sudden 
 victim of a distressing fever, when he had scarcely 
 entered his eighteenth year. Looking for the last 
 time upon the dead body of his child, he said, " I 
 have now done with the world." His letters written 
 at this time, no one of common humanity can read 
 without emotion. In one he says, " my son Mon- 
 tagu sleeps in his brother's grave. A fever cut 
 him off in five days, but he spoke with composure 
 and Christian piety of his approaching dissolution, 
 and gave directions for his funeral. Within a few 
 minutes of his death, he was heard to repeat in a 
 whisper the Lord's prayer, and to begin an unfinished 
 sentence, of which nothing could be heard but the 
 words, 'incorruptible gVon/.' But I thank God, 
 that though I am now childless, I am entirely re- 
 signed. I have had too much experience not to 
 know, that the only sources of comfort in cases of 
 this kind, are submission to the Divine will, and the 
 slow and silent operation of time." 
 
 But he had not long to bear the complicated evils
 
 DR. JAMES BEATTIE. 263 
 
 of mortality ; and with a decayed constitution, and 
 a mind unhinged and broken, he waited the final 
 period of his sufferings. Repeated paralytic shocks 
 preceded his dissolution, and for the last year of his 
 life deprived him wholly of the power of motion, 
 until the morning of Thursday, August 18, 1803, 
 when it pleased the Almighty to remove him from 
 this world to a better, in the 68th year of his age, 
 without apparent pain, for he seemed not to suffer, 
 but only to fall asleep. 
 
 But though long declining, and weary, and like a 
 bruised reed shaken over the grave, he forsook not 
 his hold upon the strong pillar of our hope. His 
 piety was evinced, not merely by his written labors, 
 or his regular attendance upon the public ordinances 
 of religion, but by his unfeigned resignation to the 
 hand that afflicted him, and the unequivocal testimony 
 of the strict performance of private devotion. The 
 daughter of his favorite sister who resided with him 
 till his death, informs, that " after he had retired to his 
 chamber, she frequently overheard his voice , ren- 
 dered audible by the ardor of prayer ; and that 
 throughout the day, when his spirits were more than 
 usually depressed, she could perceive that he was 
 offering up his orisons to heaven, with the utmost 
 fervor." This narrow abstract of the life and death 
 of a good man, I close with an epitaph of his own, 
 designed for himself, and written many years pre- 
 vious to his death. 
 
 Escap'd the gloom of mortal life, a soul 
 Here leaves its mould'ring tenement of flay, 
 Safe, where no cares their whelming hillows roll, 
 No doubts bewilder, and no hopes betray.
 
 264 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 Like thee, I once have stemm'd the sea of life ; 
 Like thee, have languish'd after empty joys ; 
 Like thee, have labor'd in the stormy strife ; 
 Been griev'd for trifles and amus'd with toys. 
 
 Yet for a while 'gainst Passion's threatful blast 
 Let steady Reason urge the struggling oar ; 
 Shot through the dreary gloom, the morn at last 
 Gives to thy longing eye the blissful shore. 
 
 Forget my frailties, thou art also frail ; 
 Forgive my lapses, thou thyself may'st fall ; 
 Nor read unmov'd, my artless, tender tale, 
 I was a friend, O man, 10 thee, to all.
 
 REV. SAMUEL STILLMAtf. 
 
 THE Rev. Samuel Stillman, D. D. was a native 
 
 of Philadelphia, born Feb. 27, 1737, educated at 
 
 Charleston, in South Carolina, ordained 
 
 1737. and settled in the ministry at James Isl- 
 and, near Charleston, in the 22d year of 
 his age. The peculiar nature of a southern climate, 
 and the declining state of his health, compelled him 
 to part from this pleasant residence after continuing 
 there 18 months. A temporary recovery enabled 
 him to officiate two years at Bordenstown, New 
 Jersey, and with constant exertion to supply two va- 
 cant congregations. Afterwards he visited New- 
 England, and was prevailed upon to accept the care 
 of the first Baptist Church in Boston, where he 
 spent the remainder of his days, diffusing through a 
 wide sphere the lustre of his talents, and the spirit 
 of his virtues. Nature had endowed him with un- 
 common quickness of apprehension, and feelings 
 peculiarly ardent and lively. These gave activity 
 to all his pursuits, and under the control of religious 
 principles, greatly increased his usefulness and 
 piety. 
 
 This constitutional fervency both of sentiment 
 and action led him to enter with his whole heart into 
 whatever he undertook ; yet it was united with a 
 delicacy, that would shrink to wound the feelings of 
 another, and with such easy and conciliating man- 
 22*
 
 266 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ners, as to adapt himself to almost every society, 
 without diminishing personal dignity and respect. 
 His lively interest in whatever affected his friends, 
 the gentleness of his reproofs, and the gratification 
 he seemed to feel in commending others, endeared 
 him to all his acquaintance. It is said that the 
 popularity of a preacher often declines with his 
 years, but to this doctrine he was a singular excep- 
 tion. For more than 48 years he deservedly retained 
 his celebrity ; his congregation, from a small number, 
 became one of the largest where he resided, and his 
 praise was in all the churches. 
 
 His eloquence was powerful and impressive ; his 
 manner so strikingly interesting, that he never 
 preached to an inattentive audience ; and the very 
 tone and modulation of his voice admirably calcu- 
 lated to awaken the feelings. In his prayers there 
 was a fervor that seldom failed to raise the devotion 
 of his hearers ; they came from the heart, and 
 reached the hearts of others. Even those who 
 dissented from him in the minor points of theology, 
 sought to hear him, for they knew his sincerity ; 
 they knew him to be a good man, and that what he 
 instructed others to be, he himself exemplified. In 
 the chamber of sickness and affliction, he appeared 
 like a pitying angel. He knew how to comfort or 
 to caution, to soothe, to awaken, or to administer 
 reproof, in so mild and delicate a manner, as to 
 touch, without distressing the feelings. How many 
 wounded hearts he has bound up, from how many 
 weeping eyes he has chased tears, to how many 
 thoughtless souls brought the spirit of awakening ; 
 how many saints he has edified and built up, how 
 many wavering minds established, how many re-
 
 REV. SAMUEL STILLMAN. 267 
 
 pentant sinners comforted, can never be fully known 
 until the judgment of the great day. 
 
 His domestic character was in perfect unison 
 with his public ministrations. Of husbands, he was 
 one of the most kind and accommodating ; of 
 parents, the most affectionate and endearing. It 
 pleased the Author of wisdom to call him, within 
 the space of a few years, to bury seven of his 
 children, all of whom had reached years of maturity, 
 and some of them were surrounded by infant fami- 
 lies. Yet under these peculiar trials he was 
 uniformly patient and submissive, and his mind lost 
 nothing of its lively confidence and cheerful hope, 
 for it rested, with strong assurance, upon the perfect 
 wisdom of the Eternal. 
 
 His constitution from infancy was delicate, yet 
 he survived almost all his neighboring clerical con- 
 temporaries. It was his constant prayer, that " his 
 life and his usefulness might run parallel," and this 
 desire was gratified. Slight indisposition detained 
 him from church the two last Sabbaths of his life, 
 and on the following Wednesday, without any pre- 
 vious symptoms, he was attacked by a paralytic 
 shock. A few hours after, he received a second 
 stroke, grew insensible and expired. 
 
 He was then in his seventieth year ; just touched 
 the boundary of the life of man, and, as it were, 
 wrapped in a veil, was suddenly taken from the earth. 
 Infinite goodness spared him the pain of formal 
 separation from a flock and family, whom he most 
 tenderly loved, and warmly reciprocated his affection, 
 and whose tears must long continue to flow at the 
 remembrance of the friend and the shepherd who 
 has departed.
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2n. 
 
 JONATHAN EDWARDS, was the second son of 
 the Rev. Jonathan Edwards, President of Prince- 
 ton College ; and bom at Northampton, 
 
 1745. May 26, 1745. In early childhood he 
 was affected with such an inveterate in- 
 flammation of the eyes, as to prevent his learning 
 to read until a much later period than is common 
 in New England, although his capacity was early 
 discoverable, and he appeared ambitious of excel- 
 ling as soon as the mind began to unfold itself. 
 The obstinate malady that so long discouraged his 
 exertions, was at length perceived to yield to the 
 repeated operation of shaving the head, and the 
 hopes of his parents began to revive, that he might 
 not be altogether lost to the literary world. When 
 he arrived at his sixth year, the unhappy dissension 
 between the people of Northampton and his father, 
 terminated in his dismission, and removal to Stock- 
 bridge. 
 
 While here, this child learned so perfectly the 
 language of the Mohekanews or Stockbridge 
 Indians, that the natives observed, that " he spoke 
 exactly like themselves." This he retained through 
 life ; and some years before his death gave the pub- 
 lic some interesting remarks upon its construction
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2o. 269 
 
 and peculiarities. At the age of ten, his father, 
 who intended him for a missionary among the Abo- 
 rigines, sent him with the Rev. Gideon Hawley, to 
 Oughqaugu, on the Susquehannah river, to acquire 
 the language of the Oneida tribe. This was a 
 distance of one hundred miles from any English set- 
 tlement, directly through a howling wilderness, yetthe 
 courage of the child shrunk not at the undertaking, 
 or at the prospect of exchanging the ease of a 
 father's house, for the unaccommodating huts of 
 the ravages. He made a rapid progress in acquir- 
 ing the language, and so gained the affections of 
 the untutored natives, that when their settlement 
 was once exposed to invasion, they took him upon 
 their shoulders, and carried him many miles through 
 the wilderness to a place of safety. 
 
 But the breaking out of the French war, render- 
 ed his stay among them dangerous, and he returned 
 to his father, and some years after removed, with 
 the rest of his family, to Princeton, New Jersey. 
 In his seventeenth year, he was admitted a student 
 at Nassau Hall, and in the second year of his con- 
 tinuance there, became religiously impressed, and ob- 
 tained hope of reconciliation to God through Jesus 
 Christ He continued for a time, a diary of his 
 spiritual state, which shows his constant watch 
 against every sin, and care to live a holy and blame- 
 less life. In his 18th year, he publicly dedicated 
 himself to God, and the following covenant and 
 prayer written at the time, show the deep sense that 
 he entertained of that interesting and awful solem- 
 nity.
 
 270 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 Nassau Hall, September llth, 1763. 
 
 " I, Jonathan Edwards, student of the college 
 in New Jersey, on this 17th day of September, 
 1763, being the day before the first time I propose 
 to draw near to the Lord's table, after much thought 
 and due consideration, as well as prayer to Almigh- 
 ty God, for his assistance, resolved in the grace 
 of God, to enter into an express act of self-dedica- 
 tion, to the service of God ; as being a thing highly 
 reasonable in its own nature, and that might be of 
 eminent service to keep me steady in the Christian 
 course, to rouse me from sloth and indolence, and 
 uphold me in the day of temptation. 
 
 Eternal and ever blessed God ! I desire, with 
 the deepest humiliation and abasement of soul, to 
 come, in the name, and for the sake of Jesus Christ, 
 and present myself before thee, sensible of my 
 infinite unworthiness to appear before thee, and 
 especially on such an occasion as this, to enter into 
 a covenant with ' thee. But notwithstanding my 
 sins have made such a separation between thee and 
 my soul, I beseech thee, through Christ thy son to 
 vouchsafe thy presence with me, and acceptance 
 of the best sacrifice that I can make. I do, O 
 Lord, in hopes of thy assisting grace, solemnly 
 make an entire and perpetual surrender of all I 
 am and have unto thee, being determined in thy 
 strength to renounce all former Lords who have 
 had dominion over me, every lust of the eye, of 
 the flesh, and of the mind, and to live entirely devo- 
 ted to thee and to thy service. To thee do I con- 
 secrate the powers of my mind, with whatever 
 improvements thou hast already, or shalt be pleased 
 hereafter to grant me in the literary way: purpos-
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2D. 271 
 
 ing, if it be thy good pleasure, to pursue my studies 
 assiduously, that I may be better prepared to act 
 in any sphere of life in which thou shall place 
 me. I do also solemnly dedicate all my posses- 
 sions, my time, my influence over others, to be all 
 used for thy glory. To thy direction, I resign myself 
 and all that I have, trusting all future contingencies 
 in thine hands, and may thy will in all things, and 
 not mine, be done. Use me, Lord, as an instru- 
 ment in thy service. I beseech thee, number me 
 among thy people. May I be clothed with the 
 righteousness of thy Son : ever impart to me 
 through him all needed supplies of thy purifying 
 and cheering Spirit. I beseech thee, Lord, that 
 thou wouldest enable me to live according to this 
 my vow, constantly avoiding all sin ; and when I 
 .shall come to die, in that solemn and awful hour, 
 may I remember this my covenant, and do thou, 
 O Lord, remember it too, and give my departed spirit 
 an abundant admittance into the realms of bliss. 
 And if, when I am laid in the dust, any surviving 
 friend should meet with this memorial, may it be a 
 means of good to him, and do thou admit him to par- 
 take of the blessings of thy covenant of grace, 
 through Jesus the great Redeemer, to whom with 
 thee, O Father, and the Holy Spirit, be ascribed 
 everlasting praises, by saints and angels. Amen. 
 JONATHAN EDWARDS." 
 
 In 1765, he received the degree of Bachelor of 
 Arts; in 1766 was licensed, as a minister; 1767, 
 appointed tutor in Princeton College, and two years 
 after, ordained pastor over the church of AN hito 
 Haven, a society in the town of Mew Haven, Con-
 
 272 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 necticut. About twelve years after his settlement, 
 he met with an affliction that severely tried his 
 fortitude as a man, and his resignation as a Christian. 
 
 One fine day in the summer, while taking an 
 airing in his chaise, with his wife, in a pleasant part 
 of the vicinity, he was called to attend to some ne- 
 cessary business, and wished her to return without 
 him. As she proceeded homeward, she suffered 
 the horse to drink at a watering place ina small river, 
 when he suddenly plunged, fell, and threw her from 
 her seat to a watery grave. This amiable and 
 excellent lady left behind her four children, who 
 with their father, sustained by this event an unex- 
 pected and irreparable loss. The residence of Dr. 
 Edwards at White Haven, had long been rendered 
 unpleasant, by the opposite religious opinions, 
 maintained by many of his most influential parish- 
 ioners, and therefore at the mutual request of pastor 
 and people, he was dismissed by an ecclesiastical 
 council, in May, 1795, having officiated there more 
 than twenty-five years. 
 
 A few months after he was unanimously chosen 
 the minister of Colebrook, (Conn.) and found him- 
 self placed in the midst of an affectionate people, 
 and in a retired situation, very favorable to the pro- 
 secution of his beloved studies. From this spot, 
 which was much endeared to him, he was parted by 
 a call to the Presidency of Union College, which 
 had recently been instituted and endowed, in the 
 town of Schenectady, and state of New York. 
 Hither he removed in July, 1799, and assiduously 
 devoted his talents and attention, to the improve- 
 ment and welfare of this infant seminary. 
 
 In the second year after his investment with that
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2D. 273 
 
 important and responsible dignity, he was attacked 
 with a fever, whose rapid progress deprived him of 
 speech, motion, at intervals of reason, and eventu- 
 ally of life, on the 1st of August, 1801. The ef- 
 iects of his disorder prevented him from expressing 
 his feelings at the near approach of eternity, but in 
 its early stages he expressed entire and cheerful re- 
 signation to the will of God ; and now, we trust, he 
 reaps the reward of his labors, of his prayers, and 
 of his piety. 
 
 This departed saint, when a child, was singularly 
 dutiful and conscientious, and throughout all the 
 changes of life the same spirit was discernible. 
 From nature he received an ardent, irritable dispo- 
 sition, and early formed a resolution, to withstand 
 this propensity, until it should be subdued. And 
 let those who are formed like him, and like him 
 painfully " strive for the mastery," know, that by 
 vigilance, by firmness and prayer, he accomplished 
 this arduous task, and acquired such an unusual 
 command over his passions, as to pass through 
 some of the most trying circumstances in which 
 man can be placed, with uncommon patience and 
 equanimity. Like St. Paul, he knew what it was 
 to be abased, and what it was to abound ; and in 
 prosperity and adversity he appeared the same. 
 His fortitude under trials was great ; not the frigid 
 apathy of stoicism, but a constant reliance on Di- 
 vine Providence, and resignation to its will. 
 
 As a man of learning and strength of mind, he 
 had not a superior in the United States, and proba- 
 bly but few in the world. His logical powers were 
 preeminent, and little inferior to those of his father ; 
 and his talents were improved for the defence, sup- 
 23
 
 274 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 port and advancement of the religion that he loved* 
 As a preacher, his manner of delivery was bold and 
 animated, addressed more to the understanding and 
 conscience than to the passions ; yet all who had 
 the pleasure to hear him, acknowledge, that in his 
 own mode, he was rarely, if ever excelled. His 
 reasonings were strong and conclusive, closely con- 
 fined to the subject, original and instructive. 
 
 President Edwards, as a son, a husband, a parent 
 and member of society, was faithful and exemplary. 
 In his manner of life he was strictly methodical. 
 Being blessed with good health, he generally rose 
 early, and began his regular diurnal routine of duty 
 and business ; considering his immediate duty to his 
 Creator, as requiring his firstattention, and afterwards 
 the relative and social duties of life. His exercise, 
 studies, and all other concerns, so far as might be 
 consistent with his parochial duties, were systema- 
 tized, and uniformly attended in their respective 
 seasons. He merited and possessed the esteem 
 and affection of an extensive literary and clerical 
 acquaintance, who looked upon him, under God, 
 as one of the firmest pillars and ablest defenders of 
 the church, in a day of declension and infidelity ; 
 and in his death, both science and religion sustained 
 a loss, which the hand that caused can alone repair. 
 His literary productions are, a work entitled, " The 
 Salvation of all men, strictly examined, and the 
 endless punishment of those who die impenitent, 
 argued and defended against the reasonings of Dr. 
 Chauncey ;" "a dissertation of Liberty and Necessi- 
 ty;" " Observations on the language of the Stock- 
 bridge Indians ;" " Three sermons on the atone- 
 ment of Chri.st," and a variety of occasional ilis-
 
 REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS, 2D. 275 
 
 courses. He edited, also, several posthumous 
 works of his father, and left behind him many man- 
 uscripts worthy of publication. 
 
 To comprise in one short sentence the excellen- 
 cies of this great man, let it be recorded, that he 
 was a son worthy of his parents ; and to those who 
 were acquainted with those patterns of piety, this 
 will comprehend all that has been written, and all 
 that might be said. Between him and his father, 
 striking features of resemblance exist. They were 
 both distinguished scholars ; tutor* of the semina- 
 ries where they were educated ; settled in congre- 
 gations in which their maternal grandfathers were 
 settled before them ; dismissed on account of their 
 religious opinions ; settled again in retired situa- 
 tions ; elected to the Presidency of a college, and 
 within a short time after their inauguration, died, the 
 one in his 56th, the other in his 57th year. In per- 
 son, mind and lite, they were also remarkably similar, 
 and to them has sometimes been applied the em- 
 phatic eulogium of Shakespeare, 
 
 " Take them all in all, 
 
 You ne'er will look upon their like again."
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 
 
 THIS illustrious man was born in Wales, in the 
 year 1746. His father was the famous mathema- 
 tician, William Jones, who studied niath- 
 1746. ernatics under Sir Isaac Newton, and was 
 at once his pupil and his friend. Under 
 the guidance and tuition of such a parent, the mind 
 of the son was early formed to regular habits of 
 thinking, and endued with the generous enthusiasm 
 of literary fame. After acquiring at home, the rudi- 
 ments of classical learning, he was placed at school, 
 where he distinguished himself by his wonderful 
 facility in acquiring the learned languages, and by 
 a fine taste in Latin poetry. He was soon made a 
 fellow of the university of Oxford, where he was 
 equally distinguished for prematurity of mind, and 
 unexampled diligence in study. Before he attained 
 the age of twenty- two, he had acquired a thorough 
 knowledge of the Hebrew, Greek and Latin, Per- 
 sian and Arabic tongues. He had also cultivated 
 the polished languages of modern Europe, and his 
 knowledge of the French was so perfect, that while 
 he was a recluse student at the university, he trans- 
 lated the history of Nadir Shaw from Persian into 
 French, with such grammatical exactness, and ele-
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 277 
 
 gance of diction, as obtained the applause of the 
 most judicious critics in France. 
 
 About this time he published his " Commenta- 
 ries on Asiatic Poetry." At the age of 24, he de- 
 termined to attach himself to the profession of law, 
 and with his studies in general jurisprudence, and 
 the common law of England, united physical sci- 
 ences, and pursued, with amazing rapidity, his re- 
 searches into the literature of Asia. He published 
 a number of ingenious essays in prose, and a vol- 
 ume of poems, consisting chiefly of translations 
 from Arabic, Persian and Turkish authors. The 
 reputation of his genius and learning began to ex- 
 tend itself, and his acquaintance to be sought by 
 men of the first rank and literature. Through the 
 friendship of Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds, he was introduced to the Literary Society, of 
 which he continued a member, until his embarka- 
 tion for India, in 1783, having been appointed one 
 of the judges of the supreme court of Calcutta. 
 
 After his arrival, and introduction to office, he 
 proposed a plan for instituting a society " for the 
 purpose of inquiring into the history, arts, sciences 
 and literature of Asia." This proposal was patro- 
 nized by Mr. Hastings, the governor general, and 
 eagerly embraced by those gentlemen in Calcutta, 
 who were best qualified to estimate its advantages, 
 and to contribute to its support. Sir William Jones 
 was elected perpetual president of this new formed 
 society, and delivered his preliminary discourse in 
 1784. The wide and fruitful region of Asiatic 
 learning was now opened before him, while his 
 high and independent station gave him a command- 
 ing prospect of it, and furnished him full scope for 
 23*
 
 278 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 the energy of a powerful mind. In the exercise of 
 his profession, he administered to his fellow crea- 
 tures the pure maxims of justice and of truth, and 
 obeyed those laws which it was his business to en- 
 force on others. 
 
 He had long ardently desired to study the San- 
 scrit language, and in three years made himself so 
 completely master of it, that the most enlightened 
 professors of the doctrine of Brahma, confessed 
 with pride, delight and surprise, that his knowledge 
 of their sacred dialect was most critically correct 
 and profound. Their respect and attachment con- 
 tinued to the last ; and the Pundits who were in the 
 habit of attending him, felt the highest admiration of 
 his superior talents and virtues, and uttered poig- 
 nant lamentations at his death. He applied him- 
 self to his studies with pertinacious and unwearied 
 diligence, and notwithstanding the great attention 
 which his professional duties required, and the labor 
 of preparing many learned discourses for the Asiatic 
 Society, he found time to compose and publish 
 some curious and important works. The principal 
 were an English version of the Sirajijah, or Maho- 
 metan law of inheritance, \vitha commentary ; the 
 Institutes of Menu literally translated from the 
 Sanscrit, with a learned preface, treating of the an- 
 tiquity and value of the work, and an elegant trans- 
 lation of the drama of Sancontala, from the same 
 language. The first of these performances he 
 printed at his own expense, and sold for the benefit 
 of insolvent debtors ; an act of such disinterested 
 benevolence, as ought to be transmitted to posterity. 
 He had engaged in a copious digest of the Ma- 
 hometan and Hindoo law, compiled from Arab and
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 279 
 
 Sanscrit originals : but the strong hand of death ar- 
 rested the progress of the performance. In April, 
 1794, he was attacked by a bilious complaint, which 
 in a few weeks baffled the skill of the physicians. 
 The last hour of his life was marked by a most sol- 
 emn act of devotion. Finding his dissolution rap- 
 idly approaching, he desired his attendants to carry 
 him to an inner apartment, and leave him awhile to 
 himself. Returning, after an interval, they found 
 him in a kneeling attitude of prayer, with his hands 
 clasped, and his eyes fixed towards heaven, and as 
 they were removing him he expired. 
 
 The person of Sir William Jones was genteel 
 and graceful ; his countenance, open, manly, viva- 
 cious and serene. His deportment was dignified, 
 jet easy : his address, courteous, yet plain : his 
 manners, polished yet familiar. Hence, at first ac- 
 quaintance, he not only excited the admiration, but 
 acquired the esteem, of those with whom he con- 
 versed. In conversation, he illustrated in a pleas- 
 ing manner every topic which was discussed, and 
 conveyed instruction with a modesty and elegance 
 that captivated, while it enriched the mind. The 
 placidity and gentleness for which he was distin- 
 guished, did not proceed from constitutional tame- 
 ness and languor, but from the union of tempe- 
 rance and liberality, which virtuous habits had form- 
 ed in his mind. He was sedate, moderate and 
 cautious ; but at the same time animated, aspiring, 
 and generous. He possessed a proud honor, an 
 inflexible firmness, and a high sense of justice ; yet 
 he had not in his disposition either haughtiness, 
 obstinacy or austerity. His pride consisted in the 
 love of independence ; his resolution, in shunning 
 the temptations of vice ; his idea of equity, in pro-
 
 280 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 moting peace and happiness among men, by mak- 
 ing the laws lovely rather than severe. 
 
 He was no less estimable in public than in pri- 
 vate life. Whether we consider his fine taste, the 
 strength of his mental faculties, or the vast extent 
 and variety of his acquirements, we are equally 
 surprised by his talents. His intellectual powers 
 were of the highest order. The clearness of his 
 understanding no paradox could perplex ; the 
 quickness of his perception ran through systems at 
 a glance ; the solidity of his judgment, even his 
 lively fancy could not warp ; and nothing useful 
 or elegant escaped the retentive vigor of his memo- 
 ry. To these properties, he added a fertile imagi- 
 nation, a capacious comprehension, and an elasti- 
 city of mind, which gave activity to all the opera- 
 tions of genius. His mind, thus constituted, 
 was enriched with the collective science and learn- 
 ing of all times, ages, and nations ; and elevated 
 by a piety, which gave lustre, dignity and consis- 
 tency to the whole. 
 
 Sir John Shore, in a discourse delivered before 
 a convention of the Asiatic Society, soon after the 
 melancholy event of his death, observes, " I have 
 already enumerated attainments and works, which, 
 from their diversity and extent, seem far beyond the 
 capacity of the most enlarged minds ; but the cata- 
 logue may yet be augmented. To a proficiency in 
 the languages of Greece, Rome and Asia, he add- 
 ed the knowledge of the philosophy of those coun- 
 tries, and of every thing curious and valuable in 
 them. The doctrines of the Academy, and the Ly- 
 ceum of the Portico, were not more familiar to him, 
 than the tenets of the Vedas, the mysticism of the 
 Susis, or the religion of the ancient Persians ; and
 
 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 281 
 
 while with a kindred genius, he pursued with rap- 
 ture the heroic, lyric, or moral compositions of the 
 most renowned poets of Greece, Rome and Asia, 
 he could turn with equal delight and knowledge to 
 the sublime speculations, or mathematical calcula- 
 tions, of Barrow and of Newton. With them also 
 he professed his conviction of the truth of the 
 Christian religion, and justly deemed it no incon- 
 siderable advantage, that his researches had corro- 
 borated the multiplied evidence of revelation, by 
 confirming the Mosaic account of the primitive 
 world." 
 
 It may perhaps be acceptable to our readers to 
 peruse an epitaph which this great and good man 
 composed for himself some time previous to his 
 death. 
 
 " Here lie deposited 
 
 The mortal remains of a man 
 
 Who feared God, but not death ; 
 
 And maintained independence, 
 
 But sought not riches : 
 
 Who thought 
 
 None below him but the base and unjust: 
 None above him but the wise and virtuous. 
 
 Who loved 
 His parents, kindred, friends, country, 
 
 With an ardor, 
 
 Which was the chief source of 
 AH his pleasures, and all his pains : 
 
 And who having devoted 
 
 His life to the service an<J to 
 
 The improvement of his mind, 
 
 Resigned it calmly, 
 
 Giving <ilory to his i reator, 
 
 Wishing peace on eartli 
 
 and 
 
 Good will to all creatures, 
 
 In the year of our blessed Redeemer, 
 
 171)4."
 
 HON. SAMUEL OSGOOD. 
 
 THE Honorable Samuel Osgood, a native of An- 
 dover, Massachusetts, was born on the 14th of Feb- 
 ruary, 1748. His parents paid much 
 1748. attention to the religious part of his ed- 
 ucation, and so early and lasting were 
 his impressions, that he cherished a hope of saving 
 conversion at the age of 15. In youth he was ad- 
 mitted a member of Harvard University, and ob- 
 tained the reputation of a good general scholar. His 
 most striking proficiency was in the Greek language, 
 and the science of mathematics ; in the former he 
 was acknowledged to be the first in his class, and, 
 at his graduation, was chosen from the whole num- 
 ber of candidates, to the honor of writing the math- 
 ematical thesis. After exchanging the seclusion of 
 study for the theatre of active life, he took an active 
 and decided part in the differences which arose be- 
 tween this country and Great Britain. His talents, 
 judgment and information were soon percieved and 
 appreciated, and he was rapidly elevated to places 
 of trust, and offices of dignity. He executed, to 
 universal acceptance, the duties of Representative 
 and Senator in his native State, member of the Gen- 
 eral Congress, and first commissioner of the Treas- 
 ury.
 
 HON. SAMUEL OSGOOD. 283 
 
 The penetrating, virtuous Washington, placed 
 him in the department of Post Master General ; 
 the city of New York selected him as a member of 
 their house of Representatives, and that legislative 
 body invested him with the honors of Speaker. In 
 1801, he has appointed Supervisor of the State of 
 New York, and after the abolition of that office, was 
 named as Naval Officer for the port of New York, 
 a post in which he continued till death. The ab- 
 sorbing duties of these important stations, and the 
 full tide of honor that rapidly poured upon him, did 
 not prevent the contemplation of the one thing need- 
 ful, or destroy the sincere humility of the Christian. 
 Looking back upon a life active and beneficent he 
 would say with diffidence and contrition, " my his- 
 tory for forty years, would contain but a gloomy ac- 
 count of omissions of duty, and commissions of 
 sin." He complained of litelessness in the cause 
 of his Redeemer, and the withdrawings of spir- 
 itual comfort, though he still retained the hope of 
 forgiveness and acceptance. 
 
 Far from adopting that silence on religious sub- 
 jects which too often characterizes the professors of 
 the present day, he was forward to converse on the 
 state and expectation of his soul. Though the 
 church, of which he was an elder, was benefited by 
 his labors, and by his prayers, and though the light 
 of his course appeared to be that of the just, yet 
 deeply distrustful of his merits, it was his supreme 
 delight to cast himself upon Jesus Christ, as Jeho- 
 vah his righteousness." The three last years of his 
 life were marked with tranquillity, retirement and de- 
 votion. Though naturally cheerful, and uncommon-
 
 284 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ly affable in his manners, he was frequently con- 
 templative, and sometimes pensive. 
 
 His last illness was protracted and painful, but he 
 bore it with undeviating resignation, and with more 
 than his usual portion of cheerfulness. The divin- 
 ity and infinite power of Him who had undertaken 
 for him, gave his mind much consolation. Re- 
 clining on his dying pillow he said with deep solem- 
 nity, " Bound as I am to eternity, I can rest on no- 
 thing short of a Saviour, a Saviour who is truly 
 God ?" Underneath him were the everlasting arms, 
 and he calmly entered into his rest, on the 12th ol" 
 August, 1813, in the 66th year of his age. 
 
 Not many who have basked in honor's smile, 
 Not many who the paths of wealth have trod, 
 Have turned their eyes from Earth's deceitful wile > 
 To seek the favor and the fear of God. 
 
 Yet one there was on whom the flowing stream 
 Of glittering wealth no proud delusion wrought ; 
 Yes one there was who, bright with honor's beam,, 
 B jwed to the humble rule that Christ had taught. 
 
 Gone now a purer fount of bliss to taste 
 Gone to his last ineffable reward, 
 For so we trust, that with an angel's haste 
 He left this darkening earth and saw his Lord.
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 
 
 AN account of this most amiable and interesting 
 young person is given to the public, by the Rev. 
 John Newton, whose niece she was, 
 1771. and in whose family she spent the last 
 years of her life. Suddenly bereaved 
 of her excellent parents, and an only brother and 
 sister whom she tenderly loved, the lonely orphan 
 found the arms of her relatives open to receive her, 
 and in their sympathy forgot, for a while, the an- 
 guish of those sorrows which gloomed the morning 
 of her life. In a languishing state of health, she 
 journeyed from Scotland to England, to put herself 
 under the protection of that kind uncle, to whom 
 her dying mother had bequeathed her, and I know 
 not how to express the interesting particulars of her 
 short life so well, as by borrowing the words of her 
 pious and affectionate biographer. 
 
 " We received our dear Eliza, as a trust, and as 
 a treasure, on the 15th of March, 1783, just as she 
 had entered her 12th year. We were prepared to 
 love her, before we saw her ; but she came into our 
 hands like a heap of untold gold, which, when 
 counted, proves a larger sum than was expected. 
 Her person was agreeable. There was an ease 
 and elegance in her whole address, and a graceful- 
 24
 
 286 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ness in her movements, until long illness and great 
 weakness bowed down her frame. Her disposition 
 was lively, her genius quick and inventive, and if 
 she had enjoyed health, she would probably have 
 excelled in every thing she attempted that required 
 ingenuity. Her understanding, particularly her judg- 
 ment, and sense of propriety, was far above her 
 years, and there was something in her appearance 
 which usually procured her favor at first sight. 
 
 But her principal endearing qualities, which could 
 be only fully known to us who lived with her, were 
 the sweetness of her temper, and a heart formed 
 for the exercise of affection, gratitude and friendship. 
 I know not that either her aunt or I, ever saw a 
 cloud upon her countenance during the whole time 
 she was with us. It is true we did not, we could 
 not, unnecessarily cross her ; but if we thought it 
 expedient to overrule any proposal she made, she 
 always acquiesced with a sweet smile, and we were 
 sure we should never hear of that proposal again. Her 
 delicacy, however, was quicker than our observation, 
 and she would sometimes say, when we could not 
 perceive the least reason for it, ' I am afraid I an- 
 swered you peevishly. Indeed, I did not intend it. 
 If I did, I ask your pardon. I should be very un- 
 grateful if I thought any pleasure equal to that of 
 endeavoring to please you ?" It is no wonder that 
 we dearly loved such a child. 
 
 The hectic fever, cough, and sweats, which Eliza 
 brought with her from Scotland, were subdued in 
 the course of the summer, and there appeared no 
 reason to apprehend immediate danger. But sUll 
 there was a worm preying at the root of this beauti- 
 ful gourd. She had seldom any pain till within the
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 287 
 
 last fortnight of her life, and usually slept well, but 
 when awake was always ill. I believe she knew 
 not a single hour of perfect ease, and they who in- 
 timately knew her state, could not but wonder to see 
 her so placid, cheerful and attentive in company, as 
 she generally was. Many a time when the tears 
 have stolen silently down her cheeks, if she saw that 
 her aunt or I observed them, she would wipe them 
 away, come to us with a smile and a kiss, and say, 
 ' Do not be uneasy, I am not very ill I can bear it, 
 and shall be better presently.' Her case was thought 
 beyond the reach of medicine, and for a time no 
 medicine was used.- She had air and exercise, as 
 the weather and circumstances would permit, and 
 the rest of the time amused herself as well as she 
 could with her guitar, or harpsichord, her book, or 
 her needle. She had a part, likewise, when able, 
 in such visits as we paid or received, and these were 
 generally regulated by a regard to what she could 
 bear. Her aunt, especially, seldom went abroad, 
 but at such times, and to such places, as we thought 
 agreeable and convenient to her. For we perceiv- 
 ed that she loved home best, and best of all when 
 we were at home with her. 
 
 In April, 1784, we put her under the care of my 
 dear friend, Dr. Benamor. To the divine blessing 
 on his skill and endeavors, I ascribe the pleasure 
 of having her continued with us so long. She is 
 now gone, and can no more repeat what she has 
 often spoken of the great comfort it was to her, 
 to have so affectionate and sympathizing a physi- 
 cian ; but while I live, I hope it will always be my 
 pleasure to express my gratitude for his unwearied 
 attention, and for his great tenderness. But what
 
 288 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 can the most efficacious medicines, or the best phy- 
 sicians avail to prolong life, when the hour approach- 
 es in which the prayer of the Great Intercessor 
 must be accomplished "Father, I will, that they 
 whom thou hast given me, may be with me where I 
 am, to behold my glory." This was the proper 
 cause of my dear Eliza's death. The Lord sent 
 her to me to be brought up for him, owned my poor 
 endeavors, and when her education was completed, 
 took her home to himself. He has richly paid me 
 my wages, in the employment itself, and in the hap- 
 py issue. 
 
 She was advised by her physicians to make trial of 
 the salt water, and we passed a month with her at 
 Southampton and at Lymington. The bathing was 
 evidently useful in giving some additional strength 
 to her very weak and relaxed frame, and we were 
 thus encouraged to repeat our visit the ensuing au- 
 tumn. But though she bathed a few times she could 
 not persevere, and when she returned, she entered 
 our door for the last time, for she went out no more, 
 till she was carried out to be put into her hearse. 
 We have now come to the last three weeks of her 
 pilgrimage the most important and interesting peri- 
 od of her short life. Her excellent parents had 
 conscientiously endeavored to bring her up in the 
 nurture and admonition of the Lord, and the princi- 
 ples of religion had been instilled into her from her 
 infancy. Their labors were so far attended with 
 success, that no child could be more obedient or 
 obliging, or more remote from evil habits and dis- 
 positions ; but I could not perceive, when she first 
 came to us, that she had any heart affecting sense 
 of divine things. But being under my roof, she of
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 289 
 
 course attended my ministry, when her health would 
 permit, and was usually present when I prayed and 
 expounded the Scriptures, morning and evening, in 
 my family. Friends and ministers were likewise 
 frequently with us, whose character and conversa- 
 tion were well suited to engage her notice, and to 
 help her to form a right idea of the Christian prin- 
 ciples and temper. 
 
 Knowing that she was of a thinking turn, I left 
 her to make her own reflections upon what she saw 
 and heard, committing her to the Lord, from whom 
 I had received her, and entreating him to be her ef- 
 fectual teacher. When I did attempt to talk with 
 her upon the concerns of her soul, she could give 
 me no answer but with tears. But I soon had great 
 encouragement to hope that the Lord had enlight- 
 ened her understanding, and had drawn the desires 
 of her heart to himself. Great was her delight in 
 the ordinances ; exemplary her attention to preach- 
 ing ; and to be debarred from going to hear at our 
 stated times, was a trial which, though she patiently 
 bore, seemed to affect her more than any other, and 
 she did not greatly care what she suffered in the 
 week, provided she was able to attend the worship 
 on the Sabbath. 
 
 The judicious observations she occasionally made 
 upon what had passed in conversation, upon inci- 
 dents, books, and sermons, indicated a sound judg- 
 ment, and a spiritual taste. And my hope was con- 
 firmed by her whole deportment, which was becom- 
 ing the gospel of Christ. So that had she died sud- 
 denly, on any day of the last 18 months of her life, 
 I should have had no doubt of her eternal felicity. 
 But I could seldom prevail with her to speak of 
 24*
 
 290 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 herself; if she did it was with the utmost caution 
 and diffidence. Soon after her last return from 
 Southampton, she became acquainted with acute 
 pain. Her gentle spirit which had borne up under 
 long and languishing illness, sunk under this an- 
 guish, and though it occasioned no impatience or 
 repining, it rapidly destroyed her frame. On Fri- 
 day, the 30th of September, she was down stairs 
 for the last time, and then she was brought down 
 and carried up in our arms. It now became very 
 desirable to hear from herself a more explicit ac- 
 count of the hope that was in her ; especially, as 
 upon some symptoms of approaching mortification, 
 she appeared to be a little alarmed, and, of course, 
 not thoroughly reconciled to the thoughts of death. 
 Her aunt waited for the first convenient opportunity 
 of intimating to her that the time of her departure 
 was probably at hand. 
 
 The next morning presented one. She found 
 herself remarkably better, her pains were almost 
 gone, her spirits revived, the favorable change was 
 visible in her countenance. Her aunt began to 
 break the subject to her, by saying, ' My dear, were 
 you not extremely ill last night?' ' Indeed I was.' 
 ' Had you not been relieved I think you could not 
 have continued long.' ' I believe I could not.' 
 ' My dear, I have been very anxiously concerned 
 for your life.' ' But I hope, my dear aunt, you are 
 not so now. My views of things have been for 
 some time very different from what they were when 
 I came to you. I have seen and felt the vanity of 
 childhood and youth.' Her aunt said, ' I believe 
 you have long made a conscience of secret prayer.' 
 She answered, ' Yes, I have long and earnestly
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 291 
 
 sought the Lord with reference to the change which 
 is now approaching. I have not yet that full assur- 
 ance which is so desirable, but I have a hope, I tru^t 
 a good hope, and I believe the Lord will give me 
 whatever he sees necessary for me, before he takes 
 me hence. I have prayed to him to fit me for him- 
 self, and then whether sooner or later, it signifies 
 but little.' 
 
 Here was a comfortable point gained. We were 
 satisfied that she had given up all expectation of 
 living, and could speak of her departure without 
 being distressed. But her apparent revival was of 
 short duration. In the evening of the same day, 
 she began to complain of a sore throat, which be- 
 came worse, and before the noon of the next day, 
 threatened an absolute suffocation. When Dr. Be- 
 namor, who the day before had almost entertained 
 hopes of her recovery, found her so suddenly, and 
 so greatly altered, he could not, at the moment, 
 prevent some signs of his deep concern from ap- 
 pearing in his countenance. She quickly perceived 
 it, and desired he would plainly tell her his senti- 
 ments. When he had recovered himself, he said, 
 ' You are not so well as when I saw you on Satur- 
 day.' She answered, ' I trust all will be well soon.' 
 He replied, that whether she lived or died, it would 
 be well, and to the glory of (iod. 
 
 He told me that he had much pleasing conversation 
 with her that morning, some particulars of which 
 he committed to writing, but had lost the paper. 
 From that time she may be said to have been 
 dying, as we expected her departure from one 
 hour to another. On Monday, she was in great
 
 292 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 pain, sometimes in agonies, unable to remain many 
 minutes in the same position. 
 
 But her mind was peaceful, she possessed a spirit 
 of recollection and prayer, and her chief attention 
 to earthly things seemed confined to the concern 
 she saw in those who were around her. That 
 she might not increase their feelings for her, she 
 strove to conceal the sense of her own suffer- 
 ings. 
 
 About nine the next morning, we all thought her 
 dying, and waited near two hours by her bed-side 
 for her last breath. She was much convulsed, and 
 in great agonies. I said ' My dear, you are going 
 to heaven, and I hope, by the grace of God, we in 
 due time shall follow you.' She could not speak, 
 but let us know that she attended to what I said, by 
 a gentle inclination of the head, and a sweet smile. 
 I repeated to her many passages of Scripture, and 
 verses of hymns, to each of which she made the 
 same kind of answer. Though silent, her looks 
 were more expressive than words. Towards eleven 
 o'clock, a great quantity of coagulated phlegm, 
 which she had not strength to raise, made her rattle 
 violently in the throat, which we considered as a 
 sign that death was at hand : and as she seemed 
 unwilling to take something that was offered her, we 
 forbore to disturb her in what we supposed her 
 last moments. But our beloved physician, coming 
 in, observed that she was not near death by her 
 pulse, and desired that something might be given 
 her. A tea-spoonful or two of some liquid cleared 
 the passage, and she revived, but her pain was 
 extreme, and her disappointment great. I never 
 saw her so near impatience, as upon this occasion.
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 293 
 
 As soon as she could speak, she cried out ' Oh 
 cruel ! cruel to recall me, when I was so happy, 
 and so near gone ! I wish you had not come. I 
 long to go home.' 
 
 IJui in a few moments she grew composed, as- 
 sented to what the doctor said of her duty to wait 
 the Lord's time ; and from that hour, though her 
 desires to depart and to be with her Saviour were 
 stronger and stronger, she cheerfully took whatever 
 was offered her, and frequently asked for something 
 of her own accord. If ow often, if we were to 
 have choice, should we counteract our own prayers ! 
 I had entreated the Lord to prolong her life, till she 
 could leave an indisputable testimony behind her, 
 for our comfort. Yet when I saw her agony, and 
 heard her cry ' Oh ! how cruel to stop me' 1 \v;is 
 for a moment almost of her mind, and could hardly 
 help wishing that the doctor had delayed his visit a 
 little longer. But if she had died then we should 
 have been deprived of what we saw and heard the 
 two following days, the remembrance of which is 
 unspeakably precious to me. When Dr. Benamor 
 came on Wednesday, she entreated him to tell her 
 how long he thought she might live. He said 
 ' Are you in earnest, my dear?' She answered, 
 4 Indeed I am.' At that time there were strong 
 symptoms of mortification, and he told her that she 
 might hold out till eight in the evening, but he did 
 not expect she could survive till midnight. 
 
 On hearing this, low as she was, her eyes seemed 
 to sparkle with their former vivacity, and fixing them 
 on him with an air of ineffable satisfaction she said, 
 ' Oh that is good news indeed.' And she repeated 
 it as such to a person who came soon after into the
 
 294 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 room, and said with lively emotions of joy, " The 
 doctor tells me, I shall stay here but a few hours 
 more.' In the afternoon she noticed and counted 
 the clock every time it struck, and when it struck 
 seven, she said ' another hour and then .' But 
 it pleased God to spare her to us another day. She 
 suffered much in the course of Wednesday night, 
 but was quite resigned and patient. Our kind 
 servants, who from love to her and us, watched her 
 night and day, with a solicitude and tenderness 
 which wealth is too poor to purchase, were witnesses 
 of the affectionate and grateful manner in which she 
 repeatedly thanked them for their services and 
 attentions to her. Though such an acknowledgment 
 was no more than their due, yet coming from her- 
 self, and at such a time, they highly valued it. She 
 added her earnest prayers that the Lord would 
 reward them. To her prayers, my heart says, amen. 
 May they be comforted of God in their dying 
 moments, as she was, and meet with equal kindness 
 from those who surround them. 
 
 I was surprised on Thursday morning, to find her 
 not only alive, but in some respects better. The 
 tokens of. mortification again disappeared. This 
 was her last day, and a memorable day to us. 
 When Dr. Benamor asked her how she was, she an- 
 swered * Truly happy, and if this is dying, it is a 
 pleasant thing to die.' She said to me about ten 
 o'clock ' My dear uncle, I would not change con- 
 ditions with any person on earth. Oh ! how gracious 
 is the Lord to me. Oh what a change is before 
 me.' She was sometimes asked if she could wish 
 to live, provided God should restore her to perfect 
 health ; her answer was, ' Not for all the world ;"
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 295 
 
 and sometimes, ' Not for a thousand worlds,' 
 but the last time she was asked the question, she 
 said 'I desire to have no choice.' She would 
 often say, 'Do not weep for me, my dear aunt, but 
 rather rejoice and praise on my account. I shall 
 now have the advantage of dear Miss Patty Barham 
 (a beloved friend who had long been in a languish- 
 ing state) for I shall go before her.' We asked her 
 if she would choose a text for her own funeral 
 sermon she readily mentioned Whom the Lord 
 loveth he cltaslenelh ' That,' said she, ' has been my 
 experience ; my afflictions have been many, but not 
 one too many ; nor has the greatest of them been 
 too great I praise him for them all.' But after a 
 pause, she said, ' Stay, I think there is another 
 text, which may do better ; let it be Blessed are 
 l/ie dead, wlw die in the Lord. That is my experi- 
 ence now.' She then chose a hymn to be sung 
 after the sermon ; the 72d of the second book of 
 Olney Hymns. 
 
 But I must check myself, and set down only a 
 small part of the gracious words which the Lord 
 enabled her to speak in the course of the day, 
 though she was frequently interrupted by pains and 
 agonies. She had something to say, either in the 
 way of admonition or consolation, as she thought 
 most suitable, to every one whom she saw. To 
 her most constant attendant she said, " Be sure to 
 call upon the Lord, and if you think he does not 
 hear you now, he will at last, as he has heard me." 
 She spoke a great deal to an intimate friend, who 
 was with her every day, which I hope she will long 
 remember, as the testimony of her dying Eliza. 
 Amongst other things she said, ' Sec how comfor-
 
 296 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 table the Lord can make a dying bed. Do you 
 think you shall have an assurance when you come 
 to die V Being answered ' I hope so, my dear,' 
 she replied, ' But do you earnestly, and with all 
 your heart pray to the Lord for iU If you seek 
 him, you shall surely find him.' She then prayed 
 affectionately and fervently for her friend, after- 
 wards for her cousin, and then for another of our 
 family who was present. Her prayer was not 
 long, but her every word was weighty, and her 
 manner very affecting ; the purport was, that they 
 might all be taught and comforted by the Lord. 
 
 About five in the afternoon she desired me to 
 pray with her once more. Surely I then prayed 
 from my heart. When I had finished, she pronoun- 
 ced, Amen. I said, ' My dear child, have I ex- 
 pressed your meaning V She answered, ' Oh ! 
 yes ;' and then added, ' I am ready to say, why 
 are his chariot wheels so long in coming 'I But I 
 hope he will enable me to wait his hour with patience.' 
 These were the last words that I heard her speak. 
 Mrs. Newton's heart was much, perhaps too much, 
 attached to this dear child, which is not to be won- 
 dered at, when we consider what a child she was, 
 how we received her, and what we saw her suffer. 
 But her Master graciously supported her in this try- 
 ing season. Indeed there was much more cause 
 for joy than grief ; yet the pain of separation must 
 be felt. Eliza well knew her feelings, and a con- 
 cern for her was, I believe, the last anxiety that 
 remained with her. She said to those about her, 
 ' Try to persuade rny aunt to leave the room ; I 
 think I shall soon go to sleep. I shall not remain 
 with you till morning.' Her aunt, however, was
 
 1 
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 297 
 
 the last person who heard her speak, and was sitting 
 by her bed when she went away. 
 
 A little past six, hearing that a relation who 
 dearly loved her, and was beloved by her, and who 
 had come daily from Westminster to see her, was 
 below stairs, she said, ' Raise me up, that I may 
 speak to him once more.' Her aunt said, My 
 dear, you are nearly exhausted, I think you had 
 better not attempt it.' She smiled, and said, ' It is 
 very well ; I will not' She was then within half 
 an hour of her translation to glory, but the love of 
 her dear Lord had so filled her with benevolence, 
 that she was ready to exert even her last breath, 
 in hopes of saying something that might be useful 
 to others, after she was gone. 
 
 Towards seven o'clock, I was walking in my 
 garden, earnestly engaged in prayer for her, when 
 a servant came to me, and said, * She is gone.' 
 
 Lord ! how great is thy power ! how great is 
 thy goodness. A few days before, had it been 
 practicable and lawful, what would I not have given 
 to procure her recovery ? yet seldom in rny life have 
 
 1 known a more heartfelt joy, than when these 
 words, " She is gone" sounded in my ears. I ran 
 up .-tans, and our whole little family were soon 
 around her bed. Though her aunt and another 
 person were sitting with their eyes fixed upon her, 
 she was gone a few minutes before she was missed. 
 She lay upon her left side, with her cheek gently 
 reclining upon her hand, as if in a sweet sleep ; 
 and I thought there was a smile upon her counte- 
 nance. Never surely did death appear in a more
 
 298 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 beautiful, and more inviting form. We fell upon our 
 knees, and I returned, I think I may say, my most 
 unfeigned thanks to our God and Saviour for his 
 abundant goodness to her, crowned in this last in- 
 stance by giving her so gentle a dismission. Yes, I 
 am satisfied. I am comforted. And if one of the 
 many involuntary tears I have shed could recall her 
 to life, health, and an assemblage of all that this 
 world calls happiness, I would labor hard to suppress 
 it. Now my largest desires for her are accom- 
 plished. The days of her mourning are ended. 
 She is landed on that peaceful shore, where the 
 storms of trouble never blow. She is forever out 
 of the reach of sorrow, temptation and sin. Now 
 she is before the throne ! She sees him whom 
 having not seen she loved ; she drinks of the rivers 
 of pleasure that flow at his right hand, and shall 
 thirst no more. She was born February 6th, 1771, 
 and died October 6th, 1785 aged 14 years and 8 
 months. 
 
 A child under the age of hTieen, did thus rejoice 
 in the midst of pains and agonies. She was wil- 
 ling to leave all her friends whom she loved, and 
 by whom she was tenderly beloved, for she knew 
 in whom she believed, and that when she should be 
 absent from the body she should be present with 
 the Lord. She triumphed in the hope of glory, and 
 smiled upon the approach of death. It may be 
 presumed that whoever seriously considers tliis case, 
 will not be able to satisfy himself, by ascribing such 
 remarkable effects in so young a subject, to the 
 power of habit, example or system. If he docs
 
 ELIZA CUNNINGHAM. 299 
 
 not account for them on the principles of the gos- 
 pel, he will be unable to assign any proportionable 
 cause. And it is to be feared, that if he is not 
 affected by a testimony so simple and so striking, 
 neither would he be persuaded though one should 
 rise from the dead."
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPItf. 
 
 I ATTEMPT to abridge for you, my ybung friends, 
 a little work entitled, " A monument of Parental 
 
 Affection, to a dear and only son ;" and I 
 1788. regret that my limited time, and narrow 
 
 bounds, compel me to compress or to 
 leave out any part of what is so excellent. The 
 character is so admirable, that it must excite strong 
 desire of imitation in every reflecting mind ; while 
 the sorrows of a father lamenting the loss of an 
 only child, and bending over the tomb which has 
 swallowed up all his earthly hopes, must excite the 
 commiseration of every susceptible heart, and draw 
 a tear from every eye which confesses the claims of 
 sympathy and compassion. 
 
 Joshua Rowley Gilpin, the only son of the Rev. 
 J. Gilpin, pastor of Wrockwardine, in the county of 
 Salop, England, was born Jan. 30, 1788. In infan- 
 cy, when the internal texture slowly yet truly disco- 
 vers itself, he displayed a remarkably mild and pa- 
 tient disposition, and showed no propensity to anger 
 when what ho loved most was withheld. This dis- 
 position, which promised to those around him, as 
 well as to himself, much comfort, seemed to acquire 
 additional strength with his years ; and it is suppos- 
 ed that there never existed a youth less subject to
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GII.PIN. 301 
 
 petulance or passion, or who could meet the una- 
 voidable vexations of life with a greater degree of 
 calmness and tranquillity. His father undertook 
 the sole care of his education, and found the em- 
 ployment a source of perpetual delight. 
 
 So gentle, so docile, so industrious was his young 
 pupil, that he never had occasion to direct to him a 
 single expression of displeasure, and throughout 
 the whole course of his life no correction was nec- 
 essary, and no instrument of chastisement was ever 
 seen in the house. His first perceivable inclination 
 was for drawing, in which he engaged when almost 
 an infant ; and though his first attempts were rude, 
 he soon began to surprise his friends with the bold- 
 ness of his designs, and accuracy of his execution. 
 While engaged in this favorite amusement, a dis- 
 sected alphabet was placed before him, and his de- 
 sire was so great to furnish his drawings with suita- 
 ble titles, that he soon made himself master of it. 
 
 Now a new field of pleasure was opened for him 
 to range in, and from the productions of the pencil 
 his mind was turned to the various arrangements 
 and combinations of these letteis ; so that at an 
 age when many children have scarcely learned their 
 names, he was forming them into short sentences, 
 not only of a playful, but of a devotional cast. 
 This not only ascertained the growth of his intel- 
 lectual powers, but gave satisfactory assurance to 
 his pious and affectionate parents, that even then 
 his young heart was forming a happy acquaintance 
 with divine things. As the higher branches of 
 knowledge allured him, he devoted himself anxious- 
 ly to their acquisition. He was cheerfully prepared 
 for every necessary exercise, and always inclined to 
 25*
 
 302 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 exceed rather than fall short of his appointed task. 
 He complained of no difficulty, he wanted no help ; 
 he considered the little labors of every day as a rea- 
 sonable service, and readily on every occasion sub- 
 mitted his will to that of his father. During his 
 studies his sweet and placid disposition was con- 
 stantly displaying itself. While a child he had be- 
 come familiarly acquainted with the rudiments of 
 the Latin tongue, and by many fair words persuaded 
 his nurse (a very worthy young woman who attend- 
 ed him from his infancy) to become his scholar. 
 Such pleasure did he derive from his studies, that 
 he left no means untried to engage her attention, 
 and would often set before her the honorable dis- 
 tinction of excelling in knowledge all the young 
 women in her parish. He drew up for her an 
 abridgment of his Grammar, to which he added a 
 short vocabulary ; and was never without a few 
 slips of paper in his pocket on which was some 
 noun regularly declined, for her benefit. If the 
 day had failed to afford her sufficient time to attend 
 his lessons, he redoubled his assiduity when she 
 conducted him ty his chamber at night, and was 
 never contented without hearing her repeat the 
 Lord's prayer in Greek. This, while it exemplified 
 the sweetness of his temper, showed that he loved 
 those parts of learning which young students are 
 apt to think tedious and disgusting, and that his mind 
 had early put away childish things. 
 
 While he was thus anxiously pursuing improve- 
 ment, his father showed him one evening a treatise on 
 Arithmetic, resolving to observe how it might suit 
 his inclinations. He went immediately to work on 
 this untried ground, and so great was his salisfac-
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 303 
 
 tion that he begged that he might be allowed to have 
 the same exercise again, whenever he should feel at 
 a loss for amusement. For three weeks it formed 
 part of his evening entertainment, and in that short 
 space he became so expert an arithmetician as to 
 consider the extraction of the square or cube roof, 
 nothing but mere diversion. His father now thought 
 fit to withdraw him from the science of numbers, 
 lest it should interfere too much with his classical 
 studies ; yet he still continued to surprise him with 
 his abstruse numerical speculations. And when 
 afterwards he w r as suffered to pursue Mathematics, 
 Algebra and Geometry, he acquired without the help 
 of a master, surprising proficiency in those sciences. 
 The difficult problems of Euclid afforded him the 
 highest delight ; he would willingly have employed 
 his days and nights with them, and no youth was 
 ever more entertained with perusing a fairy tale, 
 than he with solving, applying and repeating every 
 proposition in its order. 
 
 Under the tuition of his father, he went regularly 
 through the authors which are used in public semi- 
 naries, and that with a degree of attention very un- 
 usual in those places. His memory was so durably 
 retentive, that what he once read he never forgot, 
 and could always repeat, or turn to any required 
 passage, whether found in the writings of poets, 
 historians, or divines. His accuracy was admira- 
 ble; he was penetrating to discover errors, and 
 careful to avoid them. lie would never pass over 
 a sentence till he had obtained a satisfactory view of 
 its meaning ; or lay aside an author till he had 
 formed a critical acquaintance both with his style 
 and sentiments. In diligence he was never exceed-
 
 304 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ed ; employment was the delight of his life, and 
 whatsoever his hand found to do, he did it with his 
 might. His soul thirsted for knowledge, and no 
 occasional difficulty could abate its desire or retard 
 its progress. In cases of perplexity, so far was he 
 from soliciting assistance, that he modestly declined 
 it when offered, and through the whole course of 
 his studies, it was never necessary to stimulate his 
 progress. 
 
 His love of order was not less singular than his 
 diligence. From his earliest childhood he discov- 
 ered an uncommon attention to method in all his 
 little undertakings, and this disposition gradually 
 acquired strength, as he became better acquainted 
 with the importance of time. To his labors and 
 recreations he assigned their proper place and sea- 
 son, contriving to fill up the day with an agreeable 
 variety, preserving himself on the one hand from 
 listlessness and apathy, on the other from perplexity 
 and precipitation. Had he foreseen the predeter- 
 mined limits of his short life he could not have or- 
 dered it more wisely or happily for himself, or for 
 his parents, since every period of it was marked 
 with punctuality and enjoyment, industry and ease, 
 moderation and composure. A clear and acute 
 understanding might with propriety be called his 
 distinguishing faculty, for he possessed it in an un- 
 common degree of perfection. It was not his cus- 
 tom to glide smoothly over the surface of things ; 
 nor had he any taste for that light kind of reading 
 which so generally attracts the minds of young 
 people. He delighted in mose exercises of the 
 mind which they usually consider laborious ; having 
 once fixed his attention upon a subject, nothing
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 305 
 
 could allure him from it until he had searched it 
 thoroughly ; and to deal with some subtle questions, 
 or try his strength on some difficult point, afforded 
 him the highest gratification. 
 
 The attention of his parents was not however 
 confined to his literary attainments ; but it was their 
 endeavor and prayer that he might blend with it, the 
 wisdom that is from above. They were anxious 
 that he should not be unfurnished for the regular 
 and honorable discharge of his duties in the present 
 world, but were still more solicitous to educate him 
 as a candidate for glory, honor and immortality, 
 in the world to come. Feeling as if a failure in 
 this would have blasted all their fondest hopes, they 
 began this important work at a very early age, with 
 the greatest simplicity, condescension and caution, 
 lest they should produce disgust, where they wished 
 to excite desire. From the beauties of Creation 
 they tenderly led his mind to the wonders of Provi- 
 dence ; from the goodness of God to the unwor- 
 thiness of man ; from the depravity of human na- 
 ture to the redemption that is in Christ Jesus ; from 
 this transient state of being to that eternal world, 
 in which imperfection and infelicity shall have no 
 place. They accompanied these discourses with 
 none of that formality and rigor which some falsely 
 attach to religion. " I will show you, my dear son," 
 said his father, with a smiling countenance, " a way 
 that will lead you from earth to heaven." His gen- 
 tle pupil listened with eager attention, and the in- 
 struction was crowned with more than ordinary 
 success. His mind seemed to be solemnized, yet 
 filled with every joyful and grateful sensation, and 
 like the child Samuel he was early awakened and
 
 306 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 purified. At his first introduction to the house of 
 God, which took place at a very early age, he dis- 
 covered such a degree of reverential awe as had 
 scarcely ever been witnessed before ; and ever af- 
 ter in his stated appearance there, whether he lis- 
 tened to the sacred word, or bowed before the altar, 
 his whole carriage was marked with the most unaf- 
 fected decorum and piety. Oh ! think not, my 
 dear young friends, that he then embraced anything 
 gloomy, rigorous, or unnecessary ; he made choice 
 of what was to increase his talents, to refine his en- 
 joyments, to fortify his mind against -the allurements 
 arid sorrows of time, and to prepare his soul to re- 
 turn to the hand of its Maker, after a short and hap- 
 py visit to mortality. 
 
 I borrow the words of his father to describe to 
 you the happy manner in which their Sabbaths were 
 mutually spent. " Unrestrained by the presence of 
 witnesses, we gave on that day an unlimited indul- 
 gence to our affectionate and devotional feelings. 
 We conversed as parts of the same family ; we 
 congratulated each other as members of the Christian 
 church ; we rejoiced over one another as heirs of 
 the same glorious promises. Some interesting 
 passage of Scripture, or some choice piece of divi- 
 nity, generally furnished the matter of our discourse, 
 and while we endeavored to obtain a clear and 
 comprehensive view of the subject before us, a 
 divine light would sometimes break in upon ue, 
 satisfying our doubts, exalting our conceptions, and 
 cheering our hearts. We have then with one con- 
 sent laid aside our book that we might uninterruptedly 
 admire the beauties, and enjoy the sweets of the open- 
 ing prospect. While thus solacing ourselves with a
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPlN. 307 
 
 view of our future enjoyments, and the place of our 
 final destination, we have solemnly renewed our 
 vows, resolving, for the joy that was set before us, to 
 endure the cross, despising the shame, in humble 
 imitation of our adorable Master. In such a frame 
 of mind we found it possible to speak of probable 
 sufferings, and painful separations, with the utmost 
 composure. And with such a termination of our 
 course in sight, we could cheerfully leave all the 
 casualties of that course to the Divine disposal ; 
 fully persuaded that whatever evil might befal us by 
 the way, an abundant compensation would be made 
 for all on our arrival at home." 
 
 The sedentary habits, and intense application of 
 the young student, it was feared by his lather would 
 injure the delicacy of his health, and he endeavored 
 to draw him more frequently from his beloved books. 
 But his inclinations led him so strongly to such 
 pursuits, that the amusements and recreations of 
 youth had for him no charm, and he would silently 
 retire from them to seclude himself in his study. 
 His parents still trembling at the feebleness and 
 delicacy of his appearance, were advised to place 
 him in a public school, where perhaps the novelty 
 of the scene might for awhile divert his mind from 
 too intense study, and more athletic exercises 
 strengthen the fibres of his frame. 
 
 They acquiesced in the propriety of this advice, 
 but the idea of parting was so insupportable, that 
 they removed their family to Newport, and placed 
 him at the excellent seminary of the Rev. Joseph 
 Scott. Here he was introduced to a scene replete 
 with novelty ; he had often heard of a school, but 
 had never seen one, and great was his astonishment
 
 308 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 to find idleness, irregularity and ignorance, where 
 he expected only to h'ud industry, order and intelli- 
 gence. The customary exercises of the academy 
 were performed by him with such perfect ease, that 
 his attendance was required scarcely five hours in 
 the day, " and thus," says his affectionate father, 
 *' we were allowed to spend the greatest part of our 
 time together. Twice in the day we parted, not 
 without a momentary feeling of regret, and twice 
 we met each other with unfeigned pleasure, as 
 dearest friends are accustomed to meet after a 
 tedious separation. 
 
 Though he had many seniors among his com- 
 panions he rapidly rose to the highest seat in the 
 school, a place of which he was by no means 
 ambitious, and which he occupied with the utmost 
 modesty and condescension. His aflability and 
 gentleness conciliated the minds and repressed the 
 envy of his school-fellows, but between his habits 
 and theirs the difference was so great, that he could 
 form no familiar connection with any of them. In 
 the head master of this seminary he found an atten- 
 tive instructor, and a familiar friend. By him the 
 young student's talents were distinguished with the 
 strongest marks of esteem, and ho never spoke of 
 him but in the most endearing terms, calling him 
 " the pride of his school and the pride of his 
 heart." 
 
 The return of this amiable family to their beloved 
 village was a time of unspeakable enjoyment. 
 Their affectionate people waited to welcome them ; 
 the sight of their habitation renewed the memory of 
 former joy;-., and he on whose account they had 
 departed, gazed with unutterable emotion on the
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 309 
 
 spot of his nativity. Its trees, its cottages, the very 
 rock on which it stood, were associated with the 
 recollection of unminglcd enjoyments ; every room 
 in his dwelling, every shrub in his garden, every 
 field in his extensive prospect ; even the distant 
 hills behind which he had been accustomed to watch 
 the setting sun, seemed to say welcome welcome 
 to the youth who from more splendid scenes scenes 
 where he has been honored and caressed, returns 
 cheerfully to us. 
 
 " How promising are your prospects in life," said 
 a friend, " how reasonably may you look forward to 
 ihe most satisfactory events." But with ineffable 
 modesty and sweetness he answered, " I look for- 
 ward to no future event whatever with any degree of 
 desire, perfectly assured that no possible change in 
 my affairs can make any addition to my present hap- 
 piness." Not even the gaieties and amusements of 
 London could affect the inclinations of this incom- 
 parable youth, who after spending two months there, 
 at the giddy age of 16, returned to his native vil- 
 lage with the same delight the same unassuming 
 manners the same purity of taste. As they en- 
 tered the secluded spot where all their real enjoy- 
 ments centered, he presented his father with a copy 
 of Latin verses, expressive of his feelings, which at 
 the request of his mother were thus translated. 
 
 " Lives there a youth who far from home 
 Through novel scenes exults to roam ? 
 Then let the restless vagrant go 
 And idly pass from show to show ; 
 While in my native village blest, 
 Delighted still, and still at rest, 
 Without disttu barice or alloy, 
 Life's purest pleasures I enjoy."
 
 310 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 Every spot to this amiable youth was sweet, be- 
 cause he bore in his bosom the source of all true 
 pleasure unaffected goodness active virtue and 
 an hope of the favor of Gcd. But while he was 
 rapidly preparing for the sacred employment to which 
 he was destined, increasing in wisdom and stature, 
 and in favor with God and man, a secret arrow 
 from an unerring hand pierced him, commissioned 
 to wound, and eventually to destroy. In the month 
 of April, 1804, he was suddenly attacked by a dis- 
 charge of blood from the lungs, which was repeated 
 until he was reduced to a surprising degree of de- 
 bility. " We considered this," writes his father, " as 
 a solemn warning from above ; and while we dis- 
 covered in it the absolute uncertainty of our dearest 
 earthly enjoyments, we earnestly prayed for a grow- 
 ing submission to the divine will. 
 
 In the mean time it afforded us unspeakable com- 
 fort to mark the composure of our suffering child, 
 who ' as a sheep before his shearers opened not 
 his mouth, neither despised the chastening of the 
 Lord, or fainted under his rebuke,' but lying as 
 clay in the hand of the potter, meekly submitted 
 himself to the disposal of a faithful Creator." But 
 the medicines prescribed seemed to have a benefi- 
 cial effect upon him, and a journey through a beau- 
 tiful part of Wales, and several weeks residence 
 among its delightful scenes, together with the purity 
 of its air, and the mild salubrity of the season, seem- 
 ed to restore again the health of the beloved object. 
 As they returned home with the reviving invalid, all 
 Nature appeared to them participant in their joy ; 
 to use the animated language of his father, " the 
 mountains and hills seemed around us to break forth
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 311 
 
 into singing, and all the trees of the field to clap 
 their hands. We renewed our vows at every stage, 
 we freely indulged our grateful feelings at home, 
 where we reared an altar to the God of all comfort, 
 who had been mindful of us in our low estate, gra- 
 ciously prospered our way, and brought us again in 
 peace to our own habitation." 
 
 During this interval of returning vigor, he formed 
 many plans of improvement, and acquired much 
 useful information. He was incessantly occupied, 
 and all his occupations invariably tended either to 
 increase his own knowledge, or to advance the hap- 
 piness of his family. Through a great part of the 
 day he was a silent and separate student ; at stated 
 periods he related to his father what he had explor- 
 ed alone ; and occasionally associated with both 
 his parents with the most marked satisfaction, and 
 cheerful discourse. Their evenings were spent in 
 the reciprocal enjoyment of the highest domestic 
 pleasures. Their customary exercises began with 
 music, sometimes of the most delicate and compli- 
 cated kind ; were continued with reading and con- 
 versing alternately on the best works, historical or 
 poetical, philosophical, moral or religious ; and clo- 
 sed with the lifting up of the heart and voice in 
 grateful prayer to the bountiful Giver of all good. 
 
 In May he again resumed his studies at Newport, 
 where he continued till the midsummer vacation, 
 and then went on a pleasing journey with his pa- 
 rents. Immediately after his return he was sum- 
 moned to Newport as a candidate for two vacant 
 exhibitions. When he appeared at bis public ex- 
 amination, and took his seat before the tutors of the 
 college, the magistrates, clergy and visitors assem-
 
 312 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 bled, a degree of modest diffidence was visible in 
 him, which is often connected with real genius. 
 But in his appointed exercises he was so ready, so 
 correct, so perfect, that the whole concourse were 
 ready to applaud him with one voice, his parents 
 were loaded with congratulations for having such a 
 son, and a paper signed by all present, was presented 
 to the managers of the school funds, requesting 
 that the usual sum presented to the candidate might 
 be doubled on account of his extraordinary attain- 
 ments. Yet so meekly did he bear this full tide of 
 honor, that he manifested not the least satisfaction in 
 hearing his own praises, and after his return home 
 never made the most distant allusion to these flat- 
 tering events. It was now concluded that he should 
 become a student at Oxford, and in October, 1805, 
 he was entered a fellow commoner at Christ Church 
 College, not intending to take his residence there till 
 the commencement of the following term. 
 
 The prospect of separation, and the dangerous 
 examples to which he must necessarily be. exposed, 
 gave pain to the hearts of his parents, but his early 
 and growing piety, his extreme temperance and 
 modesty, his intense application to study, added to 
 a certain firmness of mind, of which he had given 
 indisputable evidences, gave them the strongest 
 ground of hope, that he would in every situation 
 refuse the evil, and choose the good. His classical 
 and mathematical studies now employed almost the 
 whole of his time, and so assiduously did he devote 
 himself to these pursuits, that he was regularly tho 
 first of the family to leave his chamber, even during 
 the severest part of the season. The day was too 
 short for his active mind ; and,, had he been allowed,
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 313 
 
 he would willingly have added to its length by 
 contracting the night, which he was inclined to 
 consider as a great interruption to his progress in 
 knowledge. It was evident that he desired know- 
 ledge for her own sake, and not on account of those 
 flattering distinctions which she sometimes gains 
 among men. He discovered none of that self 
 complacency which is so disgustingly manifest in the 
 deportment of many young scholars, nor did he 
 ever betray the least desire to outshine an inferior. 
 On the contrary, in every company, and on all 
 occasions he manifested an extraordinary degree of 
 meekness, doing nothing through strife or vain glory, 
 but in lowliness of mind esteeming others better 
 than himself. Both at home and abroad he appeared 
 as a peaceable student in the school of Christ, and as 
 one who possessed that heavenly disposition which 
 " envieth not vaunteth not itself is not puffed up 
 doth not behave unseemly sceketh not its 
 own." 
 
 It had been the custom of this happy family to 
 notice the birth-day of their beloved son, not with 
 sumptuous entertainments or extravagant gaiety, 
 but with the most affectionate congratulations among 
 themselves, and the most ardent ascriptions of 
 gratitude to God. In this manner, his eighteenth 
 birth-day was spent, but amidst its pure and hallowed 
 pleasures, little did they expect it was the last they 
 were ever to commemorate. His mother brought 
 forward many affecting quotations from the authors 
 with which she was daily conversant, to remind the 
 objects of her affection of their past blessings, and 
 to cheer them with the prospect of future comforts : 
 26*
 
 314 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 and his father presented him with the following 
 pleasing effusion. 
 
 Tlie Birth Day Wish. Jan. 30, 1806. 
 
 "May all thy years serenely flow, 
 Nor charg'd with care, nor mix'd with wo ! 
 And still as this lov'd day returns, 
 While thy glad heart within thee burns, 
 May gratitude prepare the feast, 
 And hope be there a smiling guest ; 
 Nor rosy health, nor sprightly joy 
 Refuse to wait upon my boy." 
 
 " Ah!" writes his father, " could I have foreseen 
 that my son's next claim upon his father's pen would 
 be not for a birth-clay tribute, but for a monumental 
 inscription, what a season of bitterness would this 
 have been." As they were thus sweetly passing 
 the hours of his last natal day, a servant arrived 
 about noon, with a letter addressed to him, containing 
 bank-bills to a considerable amount, with a request 
 that he would receive them as a joint token of the 
 affection of a few of his friends, who wished annu- 
 ally to repeat the same expression of their regard 
 till he should take his first degree. This unexpected 
 proof of the estimation in which he was held, was 
 received by the object of it with the strongest indi- 
 cations of astonishment and gratitude. 
 
 Preparations for his removal to the university 
 were now occasionally made. " For eighteen years," 
 says his father, " we had been inseparable compan- 
 ions, and now while various preparations for his de- 
 parture were making before our eyes, we were often 
 ready to address each other in the passionate lan- 
 guage of Ruth, ' Entreat me not to leave thce ; for
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY OILPIN. 315 
 
 xvhither thou goest, I will go ; and where thou 
 lodgcst, I will lodge,' not knowing the appointment 
 of God, that nothing but death should part us." 
 The approaching spring, the wound in his vitals, 
 which they had vainly hoped was healed, began to 
 break out, and bleed afresh, and the influenza, which 
 was then epidemical, seizing upon his feeble frame, 
 fixed there an incurable malady, which no power of 
 medicine could alleviate or remove. The sudden 
 and painful changes of his state he met with a smile 
 of cheerful submission ; no murmuring word was 
 ever heard to fall from his lips ; no trace of chagrin 
 or anxiety was at any time visible on his counte- 
 nance. Neither loss of appetite, or decay of strength, 
 neither languid days or restless nights, could break 
 the settled composure of his mind ; and so admira- 
 ble was the mixture of meekness and manliness dis- 
 coverable in him, that it was not easy to say, wheth- 
 er his patience or fortitude was carried to the great- 
 est extent 
 
 He constantly aspired to the knowledge of divine 
 things, raising his thoughts to the contemplation of 
 God, and regularly advancing his preparation for 
 that eternal world, to which he was making so spee- 
 dy an approach. The affecting language of his fa- 
 ther conveys a striking description of the close of 
 his short and excellent life. u We saw the stroke 
 descending," he writes, " which was to dissolve an 
 union from which we had derived an unbroken suc- 
 cession of delights ; and we could not but tremble 
 as it approached. But in the midst of our trem- 
 blings we presumed only to implore that its violence 
 might be softened to all the suffering parties. This 
 earnest prayer was offered without ceasing, and it
 
 316 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 found acceptance with God. He knew the feeble- 
 ness of our hearts, and gave charge concerning us 
 from his holy heavens. His purpose was indeed 
 unalterable, but it was executed with fatherly com- 
 passion. 
 
 No terrific messenger was sent to force away our 
 darling child ; but angels came on that commission ; 
 neither wind, nor earthquake, nor fire, were allowed 
 to disturb us with their tremendous exhibitions, but 
 throughout all the mitigated visitations, a still, small 
 voice, was heard, proclaiming peace before us. Af- 
 ter having been a constant and conscientious atten- 
 dant on the public ordinances of grace for many 
 years, his Sabbaths were now past in a state of com- 
 parative solitude, for so solicitous was he to preserve 
 the order of the day, that he would never once per- 
 mit his mother to be detained from church on his 
 account. While we went up to the holy temple, 
 and presented our supplications, on the footstool of 
 the Judge of all the earth, he meekly presented him- 
 self in secret before the Father of spirits, in whose 
 sight places and forms are inconsiderable things. 
 When the bells called us away, he seemed for a mo- 
 ment to lament those growing infirmities which 
 would not allow him to obey so joyful a summons ; 
 nor did he salute us with less satisfaction at our re- 
 turn, when he found a sacred entertainment in learn- 
 ing the subject that had employed our attention. 
 The concluding part of these holy days was spent 
 in our customary manner, and never was he disqua- 
 lified for taking a cheerful share in our acts of social 
 worship. 
 
 These opportunities had been always accompa- 
 nied with peculiar satisfaction ; our Sabbath suns
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 317 
 
 still continued to go down with a glorious radiance, 
 gilding even our most gloomy prospects, and giving 
 us the promise of an everlasting day. As he ap- 
 proached the end of his course, he withdrew himself 
 from every pursuit that might divert his thoughts 
 from the great end of his being. The poets, and 
 orators of Greece and Rome, were exchanged for 
 the works of experimental religion, and he sat daily 
 at the feet of some master in Israel, from whose pi- 
 ety and experience he hoped to gain an increase of 
 divine wisdom. The practical writings of Mr. Law 
 were frequently in his hands ; these he had advan- 
 tageously perused in the days of health, but at this 
 season he studied them with the deepest attention, 
 pausing long on every striking passage, and fre- 
 quently making the most solemn remarks. He then 
 proceeded to the writings of Alleine, a celebrated 
 non-conformist, and a little volume of his was regu- 
 larly laying before him, from his rising to his retir- 
 ing hour, and if at any time he visited the garden to 
 enjoy the cheering beams of the sun, the evangeli- 
 cal Alleine, as he termed him, was his companion 
 there. 
 
 By the advice of many who anxiously sought our 
 relief, we once more changed the scene, for a short 
 time. But wherever we journeyed, he was still 
 making his passage through the valley of the sha- 
 dow of death. Through this dark and solitary re- 
 gion, every man must pass : but the passage admits 
 of a wonderful variety. Some are hurried down 
 this valley with a rapidity, which will not allow them 
 to mark its terrific furniture ; while others are led 
 through it with slow and solemn steps. Multitudes 
 tread this road under the torpors of a stupid irtsen-
 
 318 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 sibility ; and many rush along it, under the turbu- 
 lence of a raving delirium. Some few favored in- 
 dividuals are allowed to pass in a state of complete 
 recollection and composure, and sometimes an ex- 
 traordinary personage is carried through it in a kind 
 of holy triumph. Our dear son, went down into 
 this desolate valley without disquietude, and walked 
 deliberately through it without apprehension. We 
 attended his steps from the beginning to the end of 
 his painful journey : without ever withdrawing our- 
 selves from his side, we observed the changes that 
 took place at every stage, we marked every turn of 
 his countenance, we caught every expression that 
 fell from his lips. 
 
 But while we were solicitous to sustain his weak- 
 ness, and to smooth his path, we found him in cir- 
 cumstances rather to afford than to require support. 
 An invisible arm sustained his soul, and supplied his 
 wants. He neither felt distress, or feared evil ; for 
 God was with him, even he " who giveth songs in 
 the night, and turneth the shadows of death into the 
 morning." Though he was fully sensible whither 
 his steps were tending, he went cheerfully forwards, 
 neither hinting at the uneasiness of the way or cast- 
 ing one wishful glance behind. His faith and pa- 
 tience un weariedly performed their proper work, 
 this alleviating present pressures, and that unveiling 
 future glories. Neither inward decays, nor outward 
 accidents, could interrupt the regular exercise of 
 these graces ; and under their prevailing influence 
 he meekly triumphed over all opposition. " This 
 was the Lord's doing, and it was marvellous in our 
 eyes." We were now strongly urged to visit the 
 Hot Wells at Bristol, as the last hope of success.
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 319 
 
 This proposal was at first, mildly resisted by our 
 dear son, who, fully persuaded of the nature of his 
 case, foresaw that the experiment would occasion 
 needless trouble, and terminate in sad disappoint- 
 ment. But perceiving our extreme anxiety on the 
 subject, he was unwilling to crush all our expecta- 
 tions at once, by exposing the secrets of his hope- 
 less condition, and prepared for his departure with 
 apparent satisfaction. His cliief attention was 
 bestowed on those things which were to be left be- 
 hind, and which he seemed to regulate with extra- 
 ordinary exactness. We observed his provident 
 care with no small delight ; but between his thoughts 
 and ours, the difference was great indeed ; we fond- 
 ly imagined that his views were directed to an hap- 
 py return, while he was preparing for a final re- 
 moval. 
 
 On similar occasions he had generally required a 
 considerable package of books ; he now requested 
 only that an English Bible, and a Greek Testament 
 might not be forgotten, while he himself took charge 
 of Alleine's Alarm, the volume to which he had be- 
 come so much attached. On the morning of Au- 
 gust 27, 1806, we left our pleasant village, accom- 
 panied by the best wishes of our neighbors, many 
 of whom were standing to observe our departure, 
 and to look on that face which they were to behold 
 no more. 
 
 Our journey was completed without difficulty, and 
 after reposing ourselves under the hospitable roof of 
 our excellent friend, James Ireland, Esq. we re- 
 moved to our own apartments near the Wells, on the 
 first of September. The friendly visits of a gen- 
 tleman of great medical skill and practice, contri-
 
 320 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 buted more than once to the temporary relief of the 
 invalid, and were continued without intermission to 
 the day of our bereavement But the season of 
 our fellowship upon earth, was now drawing hastily 
 to a conclusion ; though the decays of nature pro- 
 ceeded by such insensible degrees, that the near 
 approach of our separation was less perceptible to 
 ourselves than to others. Our beloved companion 
 still rose and dressed as usual, sat with us through 
 the day, and derived satisfaction from every thing 
 around him. He regularly partook of our meals, 
 and conversed with his ordinary animation ; cau- 
 tiously concealing from us those formidable symp- 
 toms, which were every day increasing upon him- 
 If at any time we lamented the diminution of hi* 
 appetite, he would encourage us by commending: 
 the provision that was made for him, or if upon any 
 sudden change of attitude we expressed our fears 
 that he was in a state of suffering, he would ac- 
 knowledge with a smile the perception of some un- 
 easiness, but assured us that it amounted not to 
 pain. In the mean time his pure soul had disengag- 
 ed itself from temporal hopes and fears, and was 
 silently preparing to leave mortality behind. The 
 land of promise was ever in his view, and he waited 
 only the welcome signal to arise and take possession 
 of his heavenly inheritance. Under the divine ben- 
 ediction and guidance he had passed through the 
 world uncontaminated with its pollutions, and unin- 
 fluenced by its maxims. His whole 'path had been 
 privileged beyond the common lot of man he had 
 borne no burden he had seen no sorrow he had 
 felt no distressing solicitude. And now, at the con- 
 clusion of his transient course, he looked like some
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 321 
 
 superior being, who having alighted on earth for the 
 performance of an hasty commission, was again 
 stretching his wings for an homeward flight. 
 
 At length the day arrived, which we had so long 
 dreaded, and for the approach of which we were 
 still so little prepared. On the morning of Tues- 
 day, September 9th, we walked into his chamber, as 
 he was rising, and were received as usual with an 
 affectionate smile. He answered our inquiries 
 with all the calmness, and caution imaginable, but 
 there was an appearance of languor and debility 
 about him, which could not be concealed. He 
 presented himself at breakfast with an air of satis- 
 faction, and joined in our morning devotions with 
 all his usual composure. Had the weather permit- 
 ted he was to have spent an hour abroad, but as it 
 proved unfavorable he sweetly applied himself to 
 that little volume, which was always within reach, 
 and seldom out of his hand. 
 
 His ordinary gentleness was exemplary ; but 
 through the whole of his deportment on this day y 
 there was a lamb-like patience which filled us with 
 admiration, though it was observed that his respi- 
 ration was surprisingly quickened by the slightest 
 exertion, and that he was unable to converse with- 
 out frequent pauses. He sat down to our dinner 
 with a tolerable degree of appetite, and appeared at 
 the close of it to be somewhat refreshed. After 
 this meal, it was customary with him to slumber for 
 an hour in his chair, while we silently watched his 
 repose, and sent up our supplications to heaven in 
 his behalf. We were thus watching near him, when 
 he suddenly turned upon us an expressive look, 
 which seemed intended to bespeak our attention. 
 27
 
 822 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 He had long desired to make us acquainted with 
 several interesting particulars, concerning the state 
 of his mind ; but perceiving our inability to bear 
 any such communications, he had reluctantly for- 
 borne to open his heart. Nor had we suffered less 
 uneasiness on our part ; having many things to say, 
 and yet fearing lest our awakened feelings should 
 break the settled tranquillity of his soul, and hurry 
 us away into an agony of distress. As it was with 
 Elijah and his attached successor on their approach- 
 ing separation, so it was with us. They maintain- 
 ed a delicate reserve towards each other, while they 
 proceeded from Bethel to Jericho, and from Jericho 
 to Jordan, the one not daring to glory in his expect- 
 ed ascension, nor the other to express his sorrowful 
 forebodings, lest they should mutually agitate one 
 another, and disturb the order of the approaching 
 solemnity. But as the awful moment drew near, 
 and he was about to be gone, Elijah rose above the 
 weakness of humanity, and openly asserted the pur- 
 pose of heaven. So when our dear son was made 
 sensible by some internal and infallible token, that 
 his hour was at hand, he thought it unsuitable to 
 our common character, that he should leave the 
 world without giving glory to God. Under this im- 
 pression he expressed himself with all his wonted 
 calmness and deliberation, to the following purpose. 
 
 " I have long known my disease to be a danger- 
 ous one ; and now I perceive the danger to be very 
 great : but I am resigned. I have daily hesitated 
 to make you acquainted with my real state, lest T 
 should add to the sufferings which I have already 
 brought upon yon. But as we mu?t all dio, 1 think 
 it unhappy when a man is approaching death, that
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 323 
 
 cither he or his friends should fear to make it the 
 subject of their conversation. To meditate and 
 speak upon death, is a part of our duty even in the 
 days of health. You have oi'ten led me to this se- 
 rious duty in seasons that are past ; and it becomes 
 us not to shrink from it now. 
 
 " I see nothing in this state worth living for ; the 
 whole world is replete with vanity, and 1 esteem it 
 happy to be removed out of it at an early period of 
 life. Much of my time has been spent in the study 
 of one or two languages, to which we are apt to at- 
 tach an high degree of importance (men turning a 
 pleasant look upon his mother, he added) but in 
 heaven that labor will be known no more ; for there, 
 as Buuyau observes, they all speak the language of 
 Canaan. Human studies and pursuits, are gener- 
 ally of a trifling kind, and not such as we are likely 
 to cultivate and perfect in the future world. When 
 I look back upon my past life, I see nothing in it but 
 what is sinful, and it seems almost incredible to me 
 that a dying man should ever speak of himself as a 
 harmless and innocent creature ; though I have 
 heard that this is sometimes the case. 
 
 If such a case is really possible, it must surely be 
 one of the most discouraging that can fall under the 
 notice of a pious minister. I know myself to be a 
 sinner and I have not been, even to you, what you 
 had reason to expect." Hitherto we had permitted 
 our beloved one to proceed without interruption, 
 imposing upon ourselves a restraint which could 
 scarcely be maintained from one sentence to anoth- 
 er. But at this last distressing word, wo fell upon 
 his neck and kissed him, with passionate assuran- 
 ces that he had been better to us than all our hopes,
 
 324 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 and that we had known nothing but pleasure in his 
 society. 
 
 Till this moment he preserved his characteristic 
 serenity ; but now his tears flowed apace, his burst- 
 ing sobs could be no longer suppressed, and his 
 whole feeble frame was shaken with the tenderest 
 emotions. This part of the scene was too distres- 
 sing to be either endured or described, and it was 
 happy that his mother could so far prevail, by her 
 affectionate entreaties, as to assuage the anguish of 
 our hearts. In a short time he wiped away the 
 last tears he was ever to shed : and assuming his 
 former composure, thus continued his discourse. 
 " My complaint has been of long continuance ; 
 but I have reason to be thankful that it has not sub- 
 jected me to acute pains; for under a state of 
 bodily torture, it must be difficult to preserve the 
 mind from distraction ; I owe it to the goodness 
 of God that I have been permitted the free use of 
 my thoughts through the whole of my sickness, 
 and I rejoice especially in this, that they have been 
 directed to subjects of inestimable worth. When 
 I first took up Alleine's Alarm, I feared to find up- 
 on myself the marks of the unconverted. But 
 though I was once under the dominion of some of 
 those sins, which are there enumerated, Alleine has 
 taught me both the need and advantage of a Sa- 
 viour, and I am freed from their bondage." After 
 a pause of some length he turned to me with the 
 following affecting question ; " Father, what is 
 your opinion respecting the circumstances of the 
 soul, immediately on its quitting the body? Do you 
 suppose it instantly to pass into the presence of 
 God ? or do you imagine it to be detained for an
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 325 
 
 uncertain space in some separate and inferior state." 
 I answered with confidence, " The passage of the 
 righteous soul from earth to heaven is assuredly 
 instantaneous." " That," replied he, " is my opin- 
 ion, for doubtless those words of our Lord concern- 
 ing Lazarus may be depended on Lazarus was 
 carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom." 
 
 Thus closed a discourse which can never be eras- 
 ed from our remembrance, and which constrained 
 me at the time to offer my humble acknowledgments 
 to that God who had conferred upon our dear son 
 the highest honors that a father could solicit for his 
 child. After reposing himself for a short space 
 upon the sofa, while we were endeavoring to recover 
 our spirits from the agitation into which they had 
 been hurried, he attended us at the tea table; 
 where we had scarcely taken our seats when our 
 dear friend, Mr. Ireland, was introduced, in com- 
 pany with an amiable lady who had interested her- 
 self much in our affairs. Mr. Ireland seated him- 
 self close by the side of our dear son, and inquired 
 very minutely into the state of his health, examining 
 him with a fixed observance, and counting his pulse 
 with the nicest exactness. These were his usual 
 attentions to the beloved sufferer, as often as they 
 met ; and they were returned at this solemn season 
 with the most unaffected appearances of sensibility 
 and respect. The conversation which took place 
 was perfectly suited to our situation, and calculated 
 to fix our thoughts upon the Great Disposer of all 
 our concerns. Had they witnessed all the circum- 
 stances of the past day, and foreseen all the events 
 of the approaching night, our Christian visitants 
 could not have assumed a deportment more com- 
 27*
 
 326 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 pletely adapted to the occasion. There was an 
 inexpressible something, which made the whole of 
 this interview peculiarly serious and impressive to 
 us all ; and at the conclusion of it, Mr. Ireland 
 secretly expressed his amazement at the invariable 
 composure of our son, while his pulse was running 
 on with an incalculable rapidity. The evening was 
 devoted partly to his favorite writer, and partly to 
 silent meditation. But however he was engaged, 
 the happy frame of his mind was easily discernible, 
 through his tranquil countenance ; and we were 
 unwilling to disturb the profitable employment of 
 his thoughts. 
 
 By the vigor and activity of his soul he rose 
 above those bodily languors, which many a sufferer 
 would havecounted insupportable ; nor would he have 
 once noticed his weakness, except in answer to our 
 importunate inquiries. Constrained by these im- 
 portunities, he ackowledged himself reduced to a 
 degree of debility, of which he had formerly supposed 
 human nature to be utterly incapable ; yet this he 
 mentioned rather as a matter of surprise, than a 
 cause of complaint. His views had taken another 
 direction, and had he found us of a temper sufficient- 
 ly firm, there is reason to believe that he would 
 have added something to his former communication. 
 But after the painful experiment already made, he 
 thoughtit advisable rather to restrain his own feelings, 
 than to run the hazard of again excruciating ours. 
 He was climbing the heights of Pisgah, while we were 
 lingering below in the valley of tears. The distance 
 between us was every moment increasing ; and 
 though this was mutually marked, and mutually 
 lamented, he dared not venture a descent to us, nor
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 327 
 
 had we power to rise with him. Our different 
 circumstances prevented, in some measure, our 
 familiar intercourse. Nevertheless, through the 
 dark cloud of our sorrow we saw him borne to a 
 commanding station ; from whence, had we been 
 able to reach his .elevated ground, he would have 
 pointed us to all the dazzling glories of an unknown 
 world. 
 
 It was now our evening hour of prayer ; and we 
 engaged for the last time, in a solemn act of family 
 worship. Never before was this sacred exercise 
 performed with so much reverence and fervor : and 
 though it could not be performed without a struggle, 
 yet our supplications and our praises ascended to- 
 gether. Many affecting considerations operated 
 at this time upon our susceptible hearts : a deep 
 conviction of human frailty; a strong perception 
 of our dependance upon God ; a thankful remem- 
 brance of past mercies ; a soothing sense of pres- 
 ent support ; an enlarged view of the redemption 
 that is in Christ Jesus ; and an enlivening hope of 
 future blessedness ; all united to quicken our de- 
 votions at this awful period, humbling, melting and 
 animating us by turns, beyond all possibility of de- 
 scription. After a short and peaceful interval, we 
 invited him again to our frugal board, which was 
 purposely furnished with food of the most restora- 
 tive kind. He accepted the invitation with his usu- 
 al affability, and gratified us by partaking of our re- 
 j>ast, with an unexpected degree of freedom and 
 cheerfulness. He could not refuse to sit at our 
 table ; though he was constrained to eat and drink 
 with us in the manner of Israel, at their last supper 
 in Egypt, his loins were girded, hjs shoes on his
 
 328 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 feet, his staff in his hand, and all things prepared for 
 an immediate removal. 
 
 The last messengers were even now in waiting to 
 conduct him away, and in this state he received our 
 anxious attentions with a most engaging sweetness, 
 frequently looking upon us with expressions of great 
 tenderness, and benignity, neither wholly restraining 
 his feelings nor yet allowing them too large an indul- 
 gence. Though his words were few, yet they were 
 most consolatory ; and his smiles had still so en- 
 livening an influence upon us, that we were almost 
 ready to interpret them into promises of a prolong- 
 ed existence upon earth, when they were only the 
 glances of a happy departing spirit. The same ex- 
 quisite sense of propriety and decorum, which had 
 distinguished him in the days of health and enjoy- 
 ment, was exhibited through the whole of his de- 
 portment under sickness and suffering, and continu- 
 ed, without any abatement, to the last moment of 
 his life. His actions, his words, his looks, were 
 all governed by the strictest rules of consistency 
 and moderation. He calmly accommodated him- 
 self to the varying exigencies of his state, main- 
 taining a lovely sedatencss through all the trying 
 changes to which he was exposed, and regularly 
 manifesting such an equability of soul, as the ma- 
 turest Christian would wish to experience in his 
 passage through the chambers of death. ' Let me 
 die the death of my submissive son, and let my last 
 end be like his.' 
 
 The volume of truth was lying open before me, 
 and as I turned over its sacred pages my attention 
 was powerfully called to a portion of the revelation 
 of St. John. I perused in silence, the seventh
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILFIN. 329 
 
 Chapter of that mysterious book ; and finding it par- 
 ticularly adapted to my present feelings, I repeated 
 the concluding part of it to my listening compan- 
 ions. " These are they who came out of great 
 tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made 
 them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore 
 are they before the throne of God, and serve him 
 day and night in his temple, and he that sitteth on 
 the throne shall dwell among them. They shall 
 hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither 
 shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the 
 Lamb which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed 
 them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of 
 waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their 
 eyes." This sublime passage produced upon our 
 spirits a sort of electric effect, while it offered us 
 the last delightful prospect in which we were allow- 
 ed to participate below. We closed the book, and 
 gazed upon each other in an holy extacy ; succes- 
 sively attempting to express what could not possibly 
 be uttered. Heaven itself lay open before us ; the an- 
 gels, the elders, the spirits of just men made per- 
 fect, were exhibited to us, and their song of ado- 
 ration seemed to come pouring upon our ears, as 
 we found ourselves involuntarily rising from our 
 seats to ascribe with them " blessing and honor, and 
 glory, and power, unto Him that sitteth upon the 
 throne, and unto the Lamb forever and ever." It 
 was now remarked that we had sat up to a later 
 hour than usual ; when our dear son replied mat he 
 was perfectly ready to retire, whenever we should 
 think proper. 
 
 Orders were therefore instantly given for the 
 necessary preparations to be made, and we conduct-
 
 330 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ed him to his room ; where he requested to be left 
 alone, for a quarter of an hour, which we soon un- 
 derstood to proceed from his desire of enjoying a 
 season of secret and unreserved communication 
 with God. On our return, we found him preparing 
 to lie down, and offered our assistance, but without 
 accepting it, he placed himself very composedly in 
 his bed, and in the same posture which had pleased 
 him from his infancy. After the interchange of a 
 few affectionate expressions, he seemed disposed to 
 slumber, and lest our presence should interrupt his 
 repose, we left him to the care of his watchful 
 nurse, and quietly withdrew to our own apartment. 
 There we passed more than an hour, in a state of 
 fearful suspense, feebly endeavoring to stay our 
 souls upon God, and anxiously listening to every 
 distant sound ; yet not without a hope that the 
 night would prove a season of comfortable refresh- 
 ment to our beloved son. At length he was heard 
 to cough ; and his distressed mother went immedi- 
 ately down to visit him. After a few minutes ab- 
 sence, she appeared again inviting me to follow her ; 
 her voice was scarcely audible, yet it sounded like 
 the midnight cry in the gospel, " Behold the bride- 
 groom cometh," and I hastened to embrace my 
 Joshua before he should go forth to meet his Lord. 
 I found him patiently sinking under the last efforts 
 of his disease, with a countenance full of tranquilli- 
 ty, and sweetness. My approach produced in him 
 a slight emotion, but he had proceeded loo far to 
 return. Not able to endure the thought that our in- 
 tercourse was wholly at an end, I joined my face to 
 his, softly inquiring by what means I might yet min- 
 ister to his comfort. He understood my feelings,
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY CILPIN. 331 
 
 and sought to repress them ; replying to my in- 
 quiry with a gentle request that I would cease to 
 upeak. After hanging over him for a fow minutes 
 in unutterable distress, I involuntarily repeated my 
 question, when in a tone of tender affection he re- 
 turned me the same answer, " Please not to speak." 
 He had already opened a communication with the 
 celestial world, and fully surrendered himself into 
 the hands of his invisible attendants ; and in these 
 circumstances was unwilling to be recalled or inter- 
 rupted by any importunities from below. We re- 
 ceived his request as a sacred charge, and binding 
 ourselves to silence, kneeled about his bed in a state 
 of trembling expectation. A short and solemn pause 
 succeeded : when after a few soft groans, without 
 the slightest change of posture, he peacefully 
 breathed out his soul into the bosom of his Futher 
 and our Father, his God and our God. 
 
 At this awful moment, all the opposition of our 
 will to the divine proceedings was totally subdued ; 
 and we sunk under an overwhelming sense of his 
 supremacy, whose judgments are unsearchable, and 
 whose ways are past finding out ; the mountains 
 flowed down at his presence ; and we laid our hand 
 upon our mouth before him. One desire alone pos- 
 sessed our hearts, and it was too eager at the time 
 to he restrained ; that we might be permitted to 
 follow our beloved, where mortality shall be swal- 
 lowed up of life. I attempt not to relate how the 
 remaining part of the night was spent but it was 
 a night much to be remembered for the pulling down 
 of all our temporal hopes, and the shutting up of all 
 our worldly prospects, it was a night, not 6f pain- 
 ful solicitude but of incurable sorrow, a night of
 
 332 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 intolerable bitterness, and a season of deep humilia- 
 tion before God. On the morrow our sympathizing 
 friends came to mourn with us, and to comfort us ; 
 and though no human consolation could avail much 
 in our case, yet were we sensibly touched with their 
 affectionate commiserations. 
 
 But in how many ways our inestimable friend,, 
 Mr. Ireland, was pleased to exercise towards us his 
 active benevolence, it would be difficult to enumer- 
 ate. He took upon himself the arrangement of the 
 mournful scene that was to follow, and at the day 
 appointed came with a select number of attendants 
 to convey the precious remains of our departed son 
 to his own sepulchre. Nor was he satisfied till he 
 had gathered us again under his own roof; where 
 he adopted every means that humanity could devise, 
 for the mitigation of our growing anguish allow- 
 ing us all the freedom that mourners could desire, 
 and daily watching for opportunities of doing us 
 good ; neither omitting to remind us of our past fe- 
 licity, nor refusing to mingle his tears with ours. 
 
 On the ensuing Sabbath a pathetic sermon was 
 delivered on the sad occurrence, and though we 
 exerted all the resolution we were capable of, to 
 attend the public worship on this solemn occasion, 
 all our efforts were not sufficient to saive us from 
 sinking under the impression of a discourse so 
 appropriate and affecting. Our compassionate host 
 would gladly have detained us with him through the 
 approaching winter, conceiving that so complete a 
 change of scene and society, might produce some 
 desirable effect upon our spirits. But affliction had 
 unfitted us for all human converse ; and after paying 
 a sorrowful visit to the lomb of our beloved Joshua,
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 333 
 
 we tore ourselves away from the place of his burial 
 to the place of his birth, that where our joys had 
 risen without limits, there our tears might flow 
 without restraint. 
 
 Many days have now passed since the separating 
 stroke was inflicted ; and though spring and summer, 
 autumn and winter, have maintained their regular 
 courses without interruption,, yet have we known 
 but one continued season of sadness and of sorrow. 
 Every thing around us has undergone a dismal 
 change, the charm of life is effectually broken ; a 
 sable veil, never more to be removed, is cast over 
 all the pleasant appearances of nature ; our house 
 is become a solitude ; and the world presents us 
 with a dreary and desolate wilderness. But it af- 
 fords us consolation to reflect that we are passing 
 through this wilderness as strangers and sojourners ; 
 that we have already surmounted many of its diffi- 
 culties, and shall shortly reach its utmost boundary. 
 Our best enjoyments are still at a distance ; and 
 though the remaining part of our way may proba- 
 bly be more distressing, yet it will assuredly be 
 much shorter than that which is past. Our dear 
 companion, it is true, has unexpectedly started from 
 our side, and gained the celestial country before us. 
 But we are hastily following after ; and a few more 
 laborious steps will restore him to our embraces, 
 where there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, 
 or crying. 
 
 In the meanwhile, such an affliction as ours 
 admits of no perfect remedy ; nor is it possible that 
 the days of our mourning should terminate on this 
 side the grave. Yet when we consider by whose 
 appointment this has befallen us, we silently submit 
 28
 
 334 BIOGRAPHY OP PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 ourselves to his sovereign pleasure. He hath an 
 undoubted right to do what he will with his own. 
 We are in his hands as clay in the hands of the 
 potter ; and to him only are known the methods by 
 which we may be finally wrought into vessels of 
 honor. If a sparrow cannot tall to the ground 
 without his notice ; if he condescends to number 
 even the hairs of our head, we may safely satisfy 
 ourselves, that he would not have permitted so 
 irreparable a calamity to overtake us, except for the 
 accomplishment of some truly important purpose. 
 What that purpose may be, it is vain for us to 
 inquire ; but whether it be our preservation from 
 some formidable mischief, or our preparation for 
 some inestimable good, we devoutly pray that his 
 gracious design may be fully answered upon us. 
 It was the will of our adorable Lord, that we should 
 be employed in training up an heir of salvation. 
 Such an appointment was both happy and honorable, 
 and it has occupied our most serious thoughts for 
 eighteen years together. During this memorable 
 interval, we have put forth many vigorous efforts, 
 and tasted many extraordinary consolations, in the 
 execution of our interesting commission. And 
 though our conduct has been defective in many 
 particulars, we know not, had we our work to begin 
 anew, that we could adopt a more promising course 
 than that which we have industriously pursued, 
 which has been attended with such unexampled 
 felicity, and crowned with such complete success. 
 Our appointment is now withdrawn, our work is 
 done, and our finished pupil called away to the 
 court of his heavenly Father. ' The Lord gave.
 
 JOSHUA ROWLEY GILPIN. 335 
 
 and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the 
 name of the Lord.' 
 
 The sacred volume exhibits man under the figure 
 of a flower. All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness 
 thereof as the flower of the field. We have for- 
 merly admired the aptness of this figure ; now it 
 strikes us in a new and affecting point of view. 
 The flowers of the field present us with a fascinating 
 spectacle ; they charm our eyes by the beauty of 
 their form> the delicacy of their texture, the brilliancy 
 of their colors, and the fragrance of their perfume ; 
 they serve at once to enrich our grounds, to adorn 
 our houses, and to regale our senses ; but after all 
 the attention we can bestow upon them, their frailty 
 is proportionate to their loveliness. And such are 
 those most interesting pieces of human nature, the 
 children of a family. One of these fair flowers 
 was lately in our possession ; we saw it bud, we 
 watched its opening ; we admired its rising excel- 
 lences ; and pleased ourselves with the hope that it 
 would flourish for years to come : we fostered it 
 with care ; we guarded it with vigilance, and 
 earnestly recommended it to the protection of Him, 
 who had formed and fashioned it with such inimitable 
 skill. But after all our unavailing solicitude, and 
 all our passionate supplications, we saw it languish, 
 and fade, and die ! Such was the Divine will 
 concerning us and now, while we wander about the 
 place, of which this blooming plant was once the 
 choicest ornament, we endeavor to sooth our 
 allliction with the consolatory assertion of the 
 prophet, ' the flower fadeth : but the word of our 
 Ciod shall stand forever.'" 
 
 To this exquisite picture of the sorrows of a 
 2H*
 
 336 BIOGRAPHY OF PIOUS PERSONS. 
 
 pious father, I add a sentence from his prefatory 
 address, in which he affectionately dedicates his 
 invaluable little work to the people of his pastoral 
 charge. " The time is fast approaching when you 
 will see me borne to that grave, which is already 
 prepared to receive me. But long after my minis- 
 terial exercises shall have reached their final period ; 
 and when you, my brethren, shall be sleeping around 
 me in the dust, my dearest son may continue to act 
 through the medium of this little volume, as the 
 modest instructor of your descendants, persuading 
 them by his own example, and haply prevailing 
 with some of them, to become followers of those, 
 who through faith and patience inherit the promises." 
 
 THE END.
 
 VALUABLE WORKS, 
 
 PUBLISHED BT 
 
 MERRIAM, LITTLE & CO. 
 
 Springfield, Mass. 
 ---> 
 
 Memoirs of RISDON DARRACOTT, Minister 
 of the Gospel, at Wellington, Somerset, with ex- 
 tracts from his correspondence. By Jarncs 
 Bennet. 
 
 Darracott was placed as a pupil at the Seminary over which Dr. 
 Doddridge presided ; and the tutor was afterwards greatly encouraged 
 in his endeavors to promote the important objects of his Institution, 
 by what he heard of the success which had attended the labors of his 
 favorite pupil, in the goapcl ministry. 
 
 VILLAGE DISCOURSES, preached at Aston 
 Sandford. By the late Rev. Thomas Scott, au- 
 thor of " A Commentary on the Holy Scriptures. 
 The CHRISTIAN HEARER: designed to show 
 the importance of hearing the Word, and to as- 
 sist Christians in hearing with profit. By Rev. 
 Edw. Bickersteth, Author of ' A Scripture Help,' 
 &c. 
 The CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHER. By Thos. 
 
 Dick. 
 The PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE. 
 
 Same author. 
 
 The PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION ; or an 
 illustration of the .Moral Laws of the Universe. 
 Same author. 
 
 "It is one of the most instructive volumes that has ever 
 fallen into our hands. If there is any work of man calcu- 
 lated to enlarge and exalt our ideas of God to make us 
 feel our own insignificance our base ingratitude for the 
 innumerable blessings we enjoy, and the infinite claims 
 which our Maker has upon the affections of our hearts it 
 is Dick's Philosophy of Religion." Rochester Observer.
 
 ii Works published by 
 
 The POCKET CYCLOPEDIA, or Epitome of 
 Universal Knowledge. By Joseph Guy. First 
 American from the Ninth London Edition. 
 
 "A valuable work and highly useful." Rochester Observer. 
 IdPNumerous recommendations might be added. 
 
 PALEY'S NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 SCHOOL BOOKS. 
 
 The AMERICAN READER : Containing Ex- 
 tracts suited to excite a love of Science and Lit- 
 erature, to refine the Taste, and to improve the 
 Moral Character. 
 
 Highly recommended by Professor Bond, author of the Life of 
 Fisk, Tlios. Snell, D. D. Rev Jos. Vaill, Rev. Emerson Davis, Rev. 
 Asa Rand, Rev. Geo. Nichols, Editors of N. York Journal of Com- 
 merce, Mass. Yeoman, Springfield Gazette, &c. 
 
 The FOURTH CLASS BOOK: Containing 
 Lessons in Reading for the younger classes in 
 schools. 
 
 The CHILD'S GUIDE : Comprising Familiar 
 Lessons, designed to aid in Correct Reading, 
 Spelling, Defining, Thinking, and Acting. 
 
 "The title of the last work points out the objects which 
 we think should be kept in view in forming reading books 
 for children ; and we have seldom seen books so well adapt- 
 ed to them. They describe subjects which children can 
 comprehend, in language which they can understand, and 
 can scarcely fail to interest and instruct, and what is 
 more important, to exert a happy moral influence. The 
 Fourth Class Book we have known used with success. 
 The Child's Guide we think obviously superior in its plan 
 and execution." Jlnnals of Education.
 
 'aMi, Little fy Co. iii 
 
 " It seems admirably adapted to till an existing space in 
 the regular line of infant reading books. ** The subjects 
 arc well chosen." 17. S. Literary Advertiser. 
 
 "This little book is compiled on the inductive principle, 
 which we apprehend is the only true philosophy to be con- 
 sulted in preparing books for beginners. The preface con- 
 tains some important practical suggestions to teachers, 
 and we should judge the book is worthy of a fair trial in 
 the primary schools." Education Reporter. 
 
 "This is a book, which those for whom it is designed can 
 understand. It is also eminently calculated, while it awa- 
 kens interest, and improves the mind, to warm the pupil in- 
 to benevolent sentiments." [From an Instructor. 
 
 " Children are pleased with it, and benefited by using 
 it." S. R. Hall, Author of Lectures on Schoolkeeping. 
 
 The CHILD'S ASSISTANT in acquiring Use- 
 ful and Practical Knowledge. 
 
 The work comprises brief but interesting lessons, chiefly 
 in the form of Question and Answer, on the following 
 subjects : Geography, History, Aborigines of America, 
 American History, the United States, American Revolu- 
 tion, Astronomy, Clouds, Winds, &c. The Human System, 
 Falsehood, Reading, Manners and Customs, Natural His- 
 tory, Industry, Governments, Instances of 111 Manners, 
 Obedience, The Ten Commandments, Intemperance, 
 Improper Modes of Pronunciation corrected, Explanation 
 of Common French and Latin Phrases, &c. It also con- 
 tains Tables of Weight, Measure, Time, Money, &c. 
 From a Notice of the Work. 
 
 "We have felt the need, in our own family, of just such 
 an ' Assistant' as this little work. It is designed, by ques- 
 tions and answers, to impart to the inquisitive minds of 
 young children, a knowledge of facts important to be un- 
 derstood by them, and fitted to excite their curiosity to 
 know more. * * * With such a book at hand, many a 
 leisure moment may be passed pleasantly to tiie parent 
 and profitably to the gratified children." 
 
 "This little volume contains information on subjects 
 chiefly practical, and important in the transaction of the 
 ordinary business of life."
 
 iv Works published by Merriam, Little $ Co. 
 
 The CHILD'S BOOK OF GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 With Outlines of Countries, Cuts, and eight 
 Copper plate Maps. By S. R. HALL, author of 
 ' Lectures on School-keeping,' and Principal of 
 a Seminary for Teachers, Andover, Mass. 
 
 " Mr. Hall has a thorough practical knowledge of teach- 
 ing, and has adapted this Geography to the capacity of the 
 child. The order of arrangement is the reverse of what 
 has usually been followed, but seems, as the author sug- 
 gests, to be the order of nature. The child is to commence 
 at home with the study, and "with the aid of outlines, nu- 
 merous cuts, and eight neat copperplate maps, will easily 
 acquire a correct knowledge of Geography. By a proper 
 arrangement and classification of subjects connected with 
 this study, the child finds the acquisition of knowledge 
 easy, and is led on from one ^tep to another, in an amusing 
 and fascinating way, till he acquires a general knowledge 
 of what has usually been made a tedious study. We 
 hope this book will find its way into all our primary 
 schools, and give a new spring to the study of Geogra- 
 phy." Springfield Gazette. 
 
 11 The Child's Book of Geography seems to me superior 
 to any thing of the kind I have yet examined. It is as 
 true in geography as in learning a language, that we should 
 begin with the alphabet. The first letter of this alphabet 
 is our own town. We may next proceed to the county, 
 state, United States, &.c. This seems to be the plan of 
 the 'Child's Book of Geography.' 
 
 Charles C. Corss. 
 
 " I think it the best adapted to the capacity of children 
 of any Geography which 1 have ever seen." Rev. A. ELY. 
 
 " Decidedly the best first book in Geography, that has fallen within 
 our notice." N. Eng. Weekly Rrvicir. 
 
 ICPM., L. & Co. have just published, The GRAM- 
 MATICAL ASSISTANT by S. II. HALL, Principal of a 
 Seminary for Teachers, Andover, Mass. 
 
 These works may be had of Collins &. Hamwy, New York, Tow- 
 :ir &. Hoqan, Philadelphia, and the principal Booksellers in New 
 England.
 
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