fl).UK! 
 
 m 
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 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIV. rf;,!TY OF 
 CALIKORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO
 
 presented to the 
 UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 by 
 
 Mrs. Kenneth Murdock

 
 THE 
 
 LIPE AND CHARACTER 
 
 JOHN HOWE, M.A. 
 
 ANALYSIS OF HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY ROGERS. 
 
 A NEW EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY, 
 
 66, PATERNOSTER ROW; 65, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD; 
 AND 184, PICCADILLY.
 
 Butler & Tanner, 
 
 The Selwood Printing Work, 
 
 Froma, and London.
 
 MEMORY 
 
 OF THE BELOVED FRIEND 
 
 TO WHOM 
 
 THE FOBMEK EDITION OF THIS WORK 
 WAS INSCRIBED.
 
 PEEFACB. 
 
 THE preface to the first edition of this work contained an 
 apology for some too probable negligences and inaccuracies, 
 which, from the unavoidable rapidity with which the work 
 was written though the subject and materials had been long 
 meditated might be found in the composition. The work 
 has now received a careful revision, and it is hoped that many, 
 if not all, such blemishes are removed. For the most part, 
 however, the work is left as it was. It is true that twenty-five 
 years cannot pass with any man, who in any measure " lives 
 to learn," without producing changes of judgment and of 
 taste ; and possibly some of the passages in this work might 
 have been expressed more concisely if they had been written 
 now. I have indulged myself, however, in little more than 
 verbal alterations, as it is easier to rebuild from the foundation 
 than to alter a fabric in detail ; such attempts seldom end in 
 anything else than spoiling both the old and the new. 
 
 Omitting, for the reasons above assigned, the introductory 
 paragraphs of the former preface, I retain only such portions 
 as must be equally appropriate to every edition. I said,
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 "In the course of the work, I have, of course, been com- 
 pelled to touch on many points which have often excited the 
 utmost bitterness of party-spirit. In these cases, I can sin- 
 cerely say, I have endeavoured to maintain a tone of historic 
 impartiality. I should have felt myself utterly unworthy of 
 being the biographer of Howe, had I not been emulous of imi- 
 tating, in some humble measure, that calm, candid, dispas- 
 sionate temper of mind for which he was so justly eminent. 
 
 " Howe was a nonconformist ; I have endeavoured faithfully 
 to represent his reasons for his nonconformity : but it has been 
 infinitely far from my purpose to employ his name in subser- 
 viency to party purposes. To enlist him, whose temper and 
 spirit were so transcendently catholic; whose whole life was 
 devoted to the cause of our common Christianity ; and who 
 abhorred all excess of party feeling, whether displayed by those 
 with whom he agreed, or by those from whom he differed ; 
 to enlist him, I say, in the mere strife of party, would, in my 
 estimation, be a flagrant insult to his memory. 
 
 " I have not therefore made Howe's nonconformity a topic 
 disproportionately prominent, or more so than the impartial 
 history of his life demanded. I could not help feeling that the 
 name and memory of such a man are the property, not of one 
 denomination, but of the whole Christian church; and that, 
 however strong the reasons which endear him to any one 
 party, the reasons are still stronger which should endear him 
 to all. 
 
 " To write the life of Howe with any mean, sectarian feel- 
 ing, would, in my estimation, be as unutterably absurd, as to 
 write the life of Cromwell merely to show that he was an
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 Independent, or that of Milton, to prove that he was a 
 Baptist. 
 
 " I have only further to add, that no source of information 
 to which I could possibly obtain access, whether in the shape 
 of MSS. or printed books, has been neglected. The reader 
 will see that research has not been in vain ; many letters of 
 Howe, and one or two other documents, have been recovered, 
 as well as a considerable number of facts, not mentioned in 
 Calamy's ' Life/ 
 
 " My cordial acknowledgments are due to the several gentle- 
 men who have kindly answered inquiries, and contributed to 
 my materials ; more especially to Joshua Wilson, Esq., of the 
 Inner Temple, justly distinguished for his minute and exten- 
 sive knowledge of literary antiquities; to Jeremiah Wiffen, 
 Esq., Librarian to the Duke of Bedford ; to Dr. Williams, of 
 Shrewsbury ; to the Rev. Thomas Milner, of Northampton ; 
 to the Rev. R. Slate, of Preston ; and to the trustees of Dr. 
 Williams' Library, for the access they afforded me to the 
 Baxter MSS." 
 
 It only remains to add, that I have omitted some irrelevant 
 pages in the third chapter, the reasons for which will be found 
 stated in the Appendix ; that I have lightened some of the 
 other chapters by omitting or abridging some of the extracts 
 from the prefaces to Howe's various works, retaining only such 
 portions as, like his letters and other documents, throw light 
 upon his life and character. On the other hand, the critical 
 remarks on his writings in Chapter XII. have been largely 
 augmented and illustrated by brief extracts.
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 For a not uninteresting addition to the Appendix, containing 
 letters of Howe hitherto unpublished, I am indebted to the 
 courtesy of Mr. H. 0. Coxe, Librarian of the Bodleian, and 
 to the kindness of the Rev. James Turner, of Knutsford. 
 
 I am also indebted for friendly communications on some 
 minute points in the memoir, received many years ago, from 
 John Dove, Esq., of Leeds, and Frederick Brough, Esq., of 
 London.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 INTEODUCTOEY CHAPTEE. 
 
 The materials for Howe's Biography comparatively scanty Causes of 
 this Destruction of his MSS. Probable reasons of his conduct Chief 
 design of the present volume Principal aspects under which Howe's 
 character is to be contemplated Value of a certain species of biography 
 This mode of presenting important truth illustrated by the structure 
 of the Scriptures . . . 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 FEOM 1630 TO 1656. 
 
 Howe's family and connexions Expulsion of his father from Lough- 
 borough, by Archbishop Laud Causes of it Eetreats to Ireland, and 
 returns in consequence of the Rebellion Account of young Howe's 
 studies at Oxford and Cambridge Remarks on systematic Theology 
 His catholic spirit early displayed Account of his Ordination 
 Settlement at Great Torrington His ministerial success State of his 
 opinions respecting Church Polity and Discipline His marriage 
 Account of his Fast-day services Remarks . . . . .12 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 FROM: 1656 TO 1658. 
 
 Howe's first interview with Cromwell Preaches at Whitehall Cromwell 
 proposes that he should become his Chaplain Howe's reluctance 
 Scruples overcome Motives which actuated Cromwell in the selection 
 of Howe Remarks on the Protector's religious character State of 
 religious parties Letters of Howe to Baxter, published from the Baxter 
 MSS. Howe's reluctance to continue at Whitehall Grounds of it 
 Manner in which he conducted himself during his connexion with Crom- 
 well Instances of his disinterestedness, integrity, and benevolence 
 Reflections . .... 27
 
 X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM 1658 TO 1668. 
 
 Death of Cromwell Howe still remains at Whitehall Character of 
 Richard Cromwell His deposition Letter of Howe to Baxter on that 
 event Howe returns to Torrington Is informed against Defends 
 himself successfully Is ejected by the Act of Uniformity Howe's in- 
 terview with Dr. Wilkins Reflections A Citation against him His 
 interview with Bishop Ward Oxford oath Howe's conduct on that 
 occasion Letter to his brother-in-law Reflections on Protestant per- 
 secution Publishes " The Blessedness of the Righteous " . .66 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FROM 1669 TO 1677. 
 
 Howe invited to become Chaplain to Lord Massarene, of Antrim Castle 
 Accepts the situation Removes with his family to Ireland Probably 
 the happiest period of his life Nature of his employments Universal 
 respect he conciliated Publishes his "Vanity of Man as Mortal" 
 Circumstances in which it originated Publishes his "Delighting in 
 God " Reflections Composes the first part of his " Living Temple " 
 Is invited to the pastoral charge of a congregation in London Self- 
 examination previous to leaving Antrim Reflections Removes his 
 family to London King Charles's Indulgence Remarks Howe pub- 
 lishes the first part of his " Living Temple " 94 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FROM 1677 TO 1678. 
 
 Andrew Marvell's defence of Howe against Thomas Danson's attack on 
 the treatise of " Divine Prescience "... ... 117 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FROM 1677 TO 1680. 
 
 Severities exercised upon the Nonconformists during this period Howe's 
 earnest desire for an adjustment of the differences between the Church 
 and the Dissenters The Popish Plot Curious Interview with a certain 
 Nobleman Howe's reply to Stillingfleet Extracts His expostulation 
 with Tillotson on account of his Sermon before the King Another 
 attempt at Comprehension Bill of Exclusion Proceedings of the Par- 
 liament of 1680 .... 133
 
 CONTENTS. XI 
 
 PAQK 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FROM 1681 TO 1684. 
 
 Condition of the Nonconformists during this period Howe's Meeting- 
 house disturbed Account of his Publications in 1681, 1682, and 1683 
 Preaches his Sermon on the Union of Protestants Account of it Letter 
 of Consolation to Lady Eussell ^Reflections Expostulatory Letter to 
 Bishop Barlow : 146 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 FROM 1685 TO 1690. 
 
 Conduct of Howe in Persecution Is invited by Lord Wharton to accom- 
 pany him in his Travels on the Continent His Letter of Farewell to 
 his Flock ^Reflections Settles at Utrecht Mode of Life there Cor- 
 respondence with Lady Eussell Interview with Burnet Is introduced 
 to the Prince of Orange Indulgence of James II. Howe returns 
 home Conduct of the Nonconformists with respect to the designs of 
 the Court Howe's Interview with the King Curious scene at Dr. 
 Sherlock's The Eevolution of 1688 Howe's Address to the Prince 
 of Orange His Letter on behalf of the French Protestants He pub- 
 lishes his "Case of the Dissenters Eepresented and Argued" Act 
 of Toleration passed Howe's Address to the Conformists and Non- 
 conformists on that event 167 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FROM 1690 TO 1708. 
 
 Disputes among the Nonconformists Attempt to unite the Presbyterians 
 and Congregationalists "Heads of Agreement" Agitation of the 
 Antinomian Controversy Circumstances which led to it Dr. Crisp's 
 Sermons Howe's Sermons on the Carnality of Eeligious Contention 
 Letter to Mr. Spilsbury Letters from the MSS. in Woburn Abbey 
 Letters from the Ayscough MSS. in the British Museum Letters to 
 Sir Charles and Lady Hoghton, and others Controversy on " Occa- 
 sional Conformity " Principles on which Howe defended that practice . 206 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 FROM 1704 TO 1705. 
 
 Howe's last Illness State of Mind Death Extract from his Will His 
 Person Analysis of his Character . 239
 
 Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ANALYSIS OF HOWE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 Introductory Eemarks Howe's Posthumous Works The Living Temple 
 The Treatise on Delighting in God The Blessedness of the Bight- 
 eons The Vanity of Man as Mortal The Tractate on the Divine 
 Prescience The Calm and Sober Inquiry into the Possibility of a 
 Trinity in the Godhead The Eedeemer's Tears wept over Lost Souls 
 The Redeemer's Dominion over the Invisible World Howe's Funeral 
 Sermons, and others occasional Discourses 273 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 I. A few particulars respecting Howe's Family and Descendants n. 
 Calamy's account of the treatment of John Howe's father by Arch- 
 bishop Laud HI. Extract from the Register at Cambridge IV. 
 Remarks on Cromwell's Character V. Outline of a Sermon preached 
 before Cromwell VI. Letter to the Rev. Thomas Whitaker, of Leeds, 
 and extracts from a letter to Baxter VH. Three hitherto unpublished 
 letters of Howe VHI. Preface to John Chorlton's Funeral Sermon 
 for Henry Newcome Dedication to the Third volume of Dr. Manton's 
 works 329
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, M.A. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 
 
 THE MATERIALS FOB HOWE'S BIOGRAPHY COMPARATIVELY SCANTY CAUSES OP THIS 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF HIS MSS. PROBABLE REASONS OF HIS CONDUCT CHIEF DESIGN OF 
 
 THE PRESENT VOLUME PRINCIPAL ASPECTS UNDER WHICH HOWE'S CHARACTER IS 
 TO BE CONTEMPLATED VALUE OF A CERTAIN SPECIES OF BIOGRAPHY THIS MODE 
 OF PRESENTING IMPORTANT TRUTH ILLUSTRATED BY THE STRUCTURE OF THE 
 SCRIPTURES. , 
 
 I AM ambitious, I must confess, of rendering this book some- 
 thing more than a bare collection of facts and dates. In- 
 deed, if a simple narrative had been my only object, so large a 
 volume would have been quite unnecessary, since all that has 
 reached us of the personal history of John Howe, might have 
 been comprised within less than half the compass. The ma- 
 terials for his biography are far more scanty than is usual in 
 the case of men, who have occupied stations so prominent, 
 and taken a part in scenes so interesting. 
 
 That the world knows no more of him is, it is true, to be 
 attributed to himself. If he had not in his last moments 
 laid sacrilegious hands on the voluminous manuscripts which 
 contained the history of his public and private life, there would 
 have been nothing to lament and nothing to desire on this 
 point. We should have possessed a work as delightfully 
 minute as that of Baxter or Burnet, characterized by a freedom 
 from prejudice which did not belong to the former of these 
 writers, and a depth of reflection which could not be expected 
 in the latter. If these manuscripts had been preserved, we 
 should probably have known more of the history of religion in
 
 X LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Howe's time, especially during the Protectorate of Cromwell,* 
 the very interior of whose court he could have laid bare to us, 
 than can be obtained from any existing source. Intrinsi- 
 cally valuable as such information would have been, it would 
 have derived an additional charm from the manner in which, 
 we may fairly presume, it would have been conveyed to us ; we 
 should have had it from one who was never even suspected of 
 partiality or prejudice ; who was free alike from the meanness 
 of the time-server, and the blind zeal of the partisan. 
 
 But these regrets are vain. The manuscripts in question 
 were destroyed on his death-bed, by Howe's express desire. 
 The account of this singular circumstance is still preserved in 
 a letter from his son, Dr. George Howe, to his brother-in-law, 
 the Rev. Obadiah Hughes, who had written to ask what manu- 
 scripts Howe had left behind him. The document announcing 
 the mortifying fact, is here presented to the reader. 
 
 " SIR, I am extremely concerned that some time before my 
 honoured father's decease, I was utterly disabled to reap the 
 advantage myself, and communicate it to his friends, of the 
 large memorials he had collected of the material passages of 
 his own life, and of the times wherein he lived, which he most 
 industriously concealed till his last illness, when, having lost 
 his speech, which I thought he would not recover, he surpris- 
 ingly called me to him, and gave me a key, and ordered me 
 to bring all the papers, (which were stitched up in a multitude 
 of small volumes,) and made me solemnly promise him, not- 
 withstanding all my reluctance, immediately to destroy them, 
 which accordingly I did; and have left me no other of his 
 writings but his short sermon notes, excepting some passages 
 in the frontispiece of the Bible he used in his study, which I 
 here transmit to you, and know it will be very acceptable. I 
 am sorry I can give no further account, but that is a ' magnum 
 in parvo/ etc. I am, 
 
 " Your sincerely affectionate Kinsman, 
 and humble Servant, 
 
 " GEORGE HOWE." 
 
 * See at a subsequent page, some very curious letters of Howe, throwing con- 
 siderable light on this subject, and first published in the former edition of the 
 present work. The author was fortunate enough to discover them amongst the 
 " Baxter MSS.," deposited in Dr. Williams's Library, Bed Cross Street.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. O 
 
 One feels almost tempted to regret that Howe should have 
 recovered his speech at all, since he could find no better use 
 for it. His commands, however, were but too punctually 
 obeyed, and it may be safely affirmed, that seldom has filial 
 obedience been more exemplary, or cost a struggle more 
 severe. Not a few would have been vehemently tempted to 
 play the casuist on this occasion ; and, if it did not imply some 
 participation in the guilt of such conduct, I should heartily 
 wish that Dr. George Howe had been of the number. 
 
 What might be Howe's motives for thus defrauding posterity 
 of these important documents, it is vain to inquire. Perhaps it 
 was charity ; for he might think, that the reputation of some of 
 the persons mentioned in his narrative would suffer more from 
 his honesty than the world could be benefited by it. Perhaps 
 it was modesty ; for he might possibly suspect himself of some 
 touch of vanity, in permitting such a voluminous account of 
 himself to go forth to the world. Most men are content so 
 long as they do not know but that they have a good motive 
 for their conduct ; it was sufficient to disquiet the sensitive con- 
 science of Howe, if he only suspected there might be a bad one. 
 
 But though the materials for the biography of Howe are 
 necessarily scanty ; though it must be deficient in that minute 
 particularity, which, in the estimation of triflers, is the great 
 charm of this species of composition, and which, in the esti- 
 mation of those who are not triflers, tends to relieve and enliven 
 matter of a more grave and important character, there is still 
 sufficient to render his life well worth writing. Many letters 
 and two or three other documents have been reclaimed by the 
 researches of the present writer, and are now presented to the 
 public for the first time ; * while almost every incident of his 
 life that has come down to us is pregnant with instruction, 
 because illustrative of character. 
 
 This being the case, enough is left for the main object of the 
 present volume, which is rather to give a minute analysis of 
 Howe's character and writings, than to furnish what, in fact, 
 it would be hopeless to attempt, a circumstantial account of 
 
 * 1836.
 
 LIEE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 his life. His character, as reflected in his conduct and in his 
 works, is, and must ever be to the Christian, but above all to 
 the Christian minister, a STUDY ; a subject worthy of profound 
 contemplation. 
 
 I cannot but avow my opinion, an opinion formed after no 
 very limited acquaintance with the lives and writings of emi- 
 nent Christians, that of the many whose memoirs are before 
 the public, there is scarcely one characterized by excellence so 
 various, or so great in its several kinds, as the subject of these 
 pages; scarcely one who presents such an harmonious com- 
 bination of all that is great, noble, and lovely in human char- 
 acter. I am well aware, indeed, that the several elements of 
 excellence which entered into the composition of this extra- 
 ordinary man, may, taken separately, be found in other men 
 in equal, if not much larger measure; but the distinctive 
 beauty of his character is that of combination and symmetrical 
 relation of parts : so much so, that it is no paradox to affirm, 
 that the very fullest development of which any single 
 intellectual or moral quality might have been susceptible, 
 and which in some other men, distinguished by marked 
 inequality of character, might have been justly considered an 
 excellence, would in his case have been a defect, because it 
 would have impaired that rare harmony which now pervades 
 the whole. 
 
 Without anticipating that more minute analysis of his char- 
 acter, which is reserved for a subsequent page, it may be 
 allowed in this place to indicate the more important aspects 
 under which it may be contemplated. It is true, that his 
 intellectual qualities were of the highest order, and perhaps his 
 aptitudes for abstract speculation have very seldom been much 
 surpassed. It may be safely said, however, that there are 
 other points of his character far more worthy of notice. It is 
 the singular diversity and not less singular combination of 
 moral excellence that chiefly renders him an object of such 
 engaging interest. To use the scarcely hyperbolical language 
 of his friend and coadjutor, who preached his funeral sermon, 
 " it seemed as though he was intended by Heaven to be an 
 inviting example of universal goodness."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 5 
 
 None can peruse his writings without feeling that his mind 
 was habitually filled with the contemplation of that peculiar 
 but truly Divine character, that comprehensive and all-per- 
 vading excellence, the ultimate development of which, in those 
 who embrace Christianity, is the design of all the doctrines it 
 reveals, and of all the powerful motives by which it prompts to 
 action. This character consists in the complete restoration of 
 harmony between all the faculties of the soul ; such a distribu- 
 tion and mutual subserviency of all the constituent principles 
 of our nature, as shall secure the highest perfection of them 
 all, and enable us uniformly and equably to sustain the various 
 relations in which we stand to God, to ourselves, and to one 
 another. 
 
 This character, an approximation to which is all that can be 
 expected on earth, can be fully matured only under the influ- 
 ences of a far other clime ; still it was the subject of Howe's 
 habitual and intense contemplation. Plato himself never 
 kindled with so intense a rapture over his beautiful visions of 
 ideal virtue, as Howe, with a mind enlarged and purified by 
 the gospel, dwelt on the lineaments of that image into which 
 the Christian is gradually transformed as he gazes, "by the 
 Spirit of the Lord." * 
 
 I have said that none can study his character, as reflected in 
 his writings, without perceiving that he was enamoured of 
 universal excellence ; I add, that none can study it as illustrated 
 by his life, without perceiving that he pursued it with all the 
 strength and constancy of a predominant passion; in fact, 
 with the same ardour with which others struggle for the realiza- 
 tion of the darling schemes of a less noble ambition. His 
 was no merely speculative admiration of holiness and virtue ; 
 it exerted, as all his conduct shows, an all- controlling practical 
 influence over his whole life. His actions and motives were 
 habitually determined by a reference to this standard. So 
 much was this the case, that with him, most evidently, the 
 various events of life, and its rapidly changing states of thought 
 
 * See his Treatise entitled, " The Blessedness of the Righteous," and on 
 " Delighting in God," passim.
 
 6 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 and feeling, were not ends, but only means to an end. Its 
 joys and sorrows, its hopes and fears, its passions and pursuits, 
 were but so many occasions for expanding and strengthening, 
 in one or other respect, that character, which, when duly 
 exercised by discipline and confirmed by habit, he knew, and 
 exulted to know, should be perfected in heaven, and there receive 
 the stamp of immortality. In a word, he was what so few 
 Christians are, but what all ought to be, simply and habitually 
 desirous of subjecting his whole nature to the dominion of the 
 gospel. Time, with him, derived all its importance from a 
 reference to eternity, and earth from its being a scene of dis- 
 cipline for heaven. 
 
 The progress, which a man so deeply imbued with a know- 
 ledge of Christian excellence and so deeply inspired with the 
 love of it, would make, may be readily conceived, since he was 
 constantly alive to what he ought to be, and as constantly on 
 the watch to reduce that knowledge to practice. Between 
 such a man and the generality of Christians, there must neces- 
 sarily be as great a difference as there is between the well- 
 instructed mechanician, who reflects on art the lights of science, 
 and in whom theory and practice mutually aid and illustrate 
 one another, and the rude artisan, who applies in a desultory 
 manner, principles, of the comprehensiveness and beauty of 
 which he knows little. The comparatively inexperienced sea- 
 man, and the dexterous pilot, may both reach the port ; but 
 the one will trim his sails to every variation of wind, and 
 make his advantage of every breath that blows, while the other 
 will often be driven from his course, and feel that when he 
 reaches the haven at last, it has been without his energetic 
 concurrence. There are many Christians, who, under the con- 
 duct of that gracious Spirit which influences the minds of all 
 who are truly such, and under that various discipline of life 
 which Divine Providence subordinates to the same great end, 
 have made no mean attainments in holiness, and no slight 
 approximation towards that character which is to be fully per- 
 fected in heaven; but who, nevertheless, have not been dis- 
 tinctly aware of the various stages of that transformation 
 through which they have passed. As they look back upon
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 7 
 
 considerable tracts of time, they can perceive a change; but 
 they also perceive that while it was being effected, they were 
 almost wholly passive : with them, the various exigencies of 
 life, its trials and its temptations, unconsciously suggest, at the 
 very time of their occurrence, the principles on which they are 
 to act : but they cannot say that those principles are distinctly 
 and habitually present to the mind, or that they live under a 
 conscious readiness to employ them before the exigency which 
 demands their exercise arrives. The consequence is, that many 
 opportunities of this heavenly and spiritual discipline are lost 
 altogether, or worse than lost. This is especially the case 
 with respect to those petty occurrences of life, which are erro- 
 neously supposed to be too insignificant to form a part of a 
 grand course of moral discipline : though it is obvious that by 
 their perpetual recurrence, and the subtle influence which 
 their supposed insignificance gives them, they often exert a 
 more powerful control over the formation of character, than 
 events of far greater moment. On these trifling occasions, as 
 they are absurdly thought, want of forethought and wake- 
 fulness of spirit often robs the Christian of the profit he 
 might derive from them. There is many a man who is not 
 ashamed to lose his temper or his patience, because his ser- 
 vant has been negligent, who, upon being visited by some 
 great calamity, would probably display the resignation of a 
 Christian. 
 
 Now John Howe evidently regarded all the events of life, 
 great and little, as affording opportunities of discipline and 
 self-improvement. He did not permit the occasion to suggest 
 or not, as might happen, the principles on which he was to 
 act, but held his principles in constant readiness to meet the 
 occasion. If we may judge from the whole tenor of his life 
 and writings, it is not more evident that the sculptor intends 
 those little strokes and delicate touches by which his chisel 
 operates on the marble, to contribute to the complete develop- 
 ment of that image of beauty, which as yet only exists in his 
 conception, than it is that Howe intended to subordinate to 
 the purposes of moral discipline and improvement, all the oc- 
 currences of human life. Other characters often exhibit, though
 
 8 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 it may be in a different degree, the same results ; it is to the 
 difference in point of design and systematic effort between him 
 and others, that we wish particularly to point the attention of 
 the reader. 
 
 By thus habitually estimating the value and importance of 
 present interests solely or principally from their relation to the 
 things that are unseen and eternal, and by their ultimate 
 bearing on Christian character, he attained that superiority to 
 passion and prejudice, that elevation of mind, that disinter- 
 estedness and magnanimity, which were manifested throughout 
 his life, and which so often and so deservedly excited the 
 admiration of all parties. 
 
 Such, it appears to the present writer, is the principal aspect 
 from which the character of this great man ought to be con- 
 templated. He was one of the very few who, with a truly 
 enlarged and sublime conception of that various excellence, 
 that moral and spiritual beauty which the gospel of Jesus 
 Christ is designed to form within us, devoted his whole 
 powers and faculties, steadily and systematically, to the attain- 
 ment of it. 
 
 A more full analysis of Howe's character will, as already 
 intimated, be attempted after the biographical sketch of his 
 life. 
 
 If any reader, who may be ignorant of Howe's character 
 and writings, should think that I am dealing in indiscriminate 
 and extravagant eulogy, I would simply ask him in what terms 
 ke would speak of one, of whom the following facts could be 
 truly affirmed ? Let it be supposed, for example, that it could 
 be said of some individual, that throughout life he had friends 
 in all parties, and enemies in none ; that those who agreed in 
 little else, concurred in loving and admiring him ; that he con- 
 ciliated the fullest esteem of those from whom he differed, 
 without alienating the affection of those with whom he agreed; 
 that he knew so well how to reconcile the claims of truth with 
 the claims of charity, that he was firm without bigotry, and 
 moderate without meanness ; that in his hands even controversy 
 wore an amiable spirit, and that while he never offended against 
 his conscience by concealing his sentiments, he never offended
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 9 
 
 against charity by expressing them : that this strange union 
 of zeal and discretion, integrity and prudence, wisdom and 
 love, was maintained throughout a long and eventful life, in 
 an age of bitter faction, amidst scenes of civil tumult, aiid in 
 situations the most difficult and perplexing; what, I ask, 
 would the reader say of such an individual ? Would he not 
 say that the panegyric which he had deemed extravagant, was 
 no more than due to excellence so rare ? An appeal to every 
 record of the life of Howe, will show that all this, and more 
 than this, can safely be affirmed of him. * If, indeed, I could 
 forget to what all this variety of excellence was owing, or had 
 represented it as the native growth of unaided human reason, 
 then the language I have used might justly appear unwarrant- 
 ably strong ; but the light in which I regard him, is that of a 
 signal trophy of the transforming power of the gospel, an 
 illustrious example of what it is, and of what it can effect. 
 Thus viewed, his character well deserves the attentive con- 
 templation of every Christian ; and we may cease to wonder 
 at the declaration of Robert Hall, which I once heard him 
 make when conversing with him, "that as a minister, he 
 
 * Even that splenetic party-writer, Anthony Wood, who seldom bestows a 
 syllable of praise on those who differ from him, and not ^infrequently traduces 
 them in the grossest manner ; who, if he had any charge to make, can hardly 
 be suspected of suppressing it from an excess of charity, and least of all, in 
 favour of one of Oliver Cromwell's chaplains, divests himself, when speaking of 
 Howe, of all his customary bitterness. " He is a person of neat and polite parts, 
 and not of that sour and unpleasant converse as most of his persuasion are : so 
 moderate also and calm in those smaller matters under debate between the 
 Church and his party, (which have been fiercely discussed by some very passion- 
 ate among them,) that he hath not so much as once in writing (as I know of \ 
 interested himself in any busy and too fruitless quarrels of this kind, but hath 
 applied himself wholly to more beneficial and useful publications on practical 
 subjects ; in which undertaking he hath acquitted himself so well, his books being 
 penned in a fine, smooth, and natural style, (!) that they are much commended 
 and read by very many conformists, who generally have him in good esteem." 
 The commendation of his style is an excess of politeness, which certainly could 
 not have been expected, and as far as truth is concerned, might have been dis- 
 pensed with. For once, however, let it be said, that Anthony Wood erred on 
 the side of candour. Such is the respect which distinguished excellence can 
 sometimes extort even from that most hateful spirit, equally hateful whereso- 
 ever displayed, the spirit of party ; 
 
 " illis carminibus stupens 
 
 Demittit atras bellua centiceps 
 Aures, et intorti capillis 
 Eumenidum recreantur angues."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 had derived more benefit from John Howe, than from all other 
 divines put together." * 
 
 The effect produced on the mind by the frequent and stedfast 
 contemplation of rare excellence, embodied in real character, 
 is familiar to all, and need not be insisted on. That it should 
 produce such an effect, is a necessary result of the very struc- 
 ture of the human mind, which delights to contemplate ab- 
 stract truths and principles, not in their naked form, but as 
 exhibited in action, and, as Jeremy Taylor would say, " clothed 
 in a body of circumstances." When thus presented to us, 
 they are not only understood, but seen ; not only coldly ac- 
 knowledged to be true, but vividly felt to be so. The imagina- 
 tion aids the reason, and gives form, colouring, and substance, 
 to what would otherwise be airy and unimpressive abstrac- 
 tions. 
 
 Amongst the manifold proofs which the Scripture affords of 
 the superhuman wisdom which has presided over its composi- 
 tion, and which has adapted it in its very form and structure to 
 the intellectual constitution of man, perhaps none is more strik- 
 ing than the mode in which it has exhibited its truths and doc- 
 trines. It is not after the method of a severe logic or a too 
 solicitous philosophy. As a spirit of magnanimous wisdom 
 will induce every true orator to sacrifice his peculiar habits 
 and tastes of mind, if by so doing he can convey what he 
 deems important truth, in a form more likely to impress the 
 minds of his audience ; so the Divine Author of the Scripture 
 has condescended to impart its truths and doctrines, not in the 
 form that might have been most worthy of His own infinite 
 nature, but in that best suited to our limited capacities. They 
 are developed in the course of a various and deeply interesting 
 narrative, or embodied in the actions of those who taught 
 them ; especially in the life of HIM who was the " GREAT 
 
 * I was then quite a young man, and I have since, when pondering the seem- 
 ing extravagance of the expression, thought whether the words might not be 
 " more benefit than from any other divine." But I think the expression was as 
 I have given it ; and the words " as a minister " explain them. But, like many 
 other utterances of fervid admiration which fall from the lips in conversation, 
 the words need not be pressed to their full literal import. They do express, 
 however, an intense sense of obligation.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 11 
 
 EXAMPLE." Thus that very peculiarity, which a flippant and 
 superficial philosophy has sometimes charged upon the Scrip- 
 tures as a blemish, is in reality, and in the estimation of true 
 wisdom, a Divine excellence. In any other form, the volume 
 of revelation would have been absolutely unintelligible to the 
 mass of mankind, and comparatively unprofitable to all. 
 
 Excellence thus exhibited is more clearly seen, more deeply 
 remembered, more steadily fixed in the mind, simply because 
 it is associated with the narrative in which it is unfolded, and 
 the persons in whom it is developed. It resembles history, as 
 told, not in the dry form of chronicle, but in the life-like forms 
 of the painter or the sculptor. 
 
 As the mind dwells on such models day by day, it is led on 
 from admiration to love, from love to imitation. The persons 
 in whom such qualities reside, are familiarized and endeared 
 to us : as we continue to gaze, a silent resemblance passes on 
 our spirits. It is thus that the EXAMPLE OF CHRIST Himself 
 operates on His disciples ; His people are transformed into 
 " the same image from glory to glory," though still " by the 
 Spirit of the Lord ; " and a similar influence, in a far inferior 
 degree, results from the contemplation of the characters of 
 those, who have diligently, though ab the best most imper- 
 fectly, imitated HIM.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FEOM 1630 TO 1656. 
 
 HOWE'S FAMILY AND CONNEXIONS EXPULSION OF HIS FATHER FROM LOUGHBOROUGH, 
 BY ARCHBISHOP LAUD CAUSES OF IT RETREATS TO IRELAND, AND RETURNS IN CON- 
 SEQUENCE OF THE REBELLION ACCOUNT OF YOUNG HOWE'S STUDIES AT OXFORD 
 
 AND CAMBRIDGE REMARKS ON SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY HIS CATHOLIC SPIRIT 
 
 EARLY DISPLAYED ACCOUNT OF HIS ORDINATION SETTLEMENT AT GREAT TOR- 
 
 RINGTON HIS MINISTERIAL SUCCESS STATE OF HIS OPINIONS RESPECTING CHURCH 
 
 POLITY AND DISCIPLINE HIS MARRIAGE ACCOUNT OF HIS FAST-DAY SERVICES 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 OF Howe's family little is known. When it has been said 
 that his father was a clergyman, and a man of acknow- 
 ledged piety and worth ; that his mother was a woman of very 
 uncommon abilities ; and that his uncle, Obadiah Howe, was 
 vicar of Boston, in Lincolnshire ; almost all that is certainly 
 known of his connexions is already told.* 
 
 Such matters, however, are of very little moment. The 
 fame of John Howe is the fame of exalted genius and distin- 
 guished worth, and could receive but little augmentation from 
 the proudest pedigree or the most illustrious parentage. 
 
 Of Howe's childhood as little is known as of his family. The 
 character of his parents, however, fully justifies the belief thab 
 he was educated with care ; that he must have been early im- 
 
 * A few particulars, some of them curious, -will be found in the Appendix, 
 No. I. 
 
 Mr. Brook, in his "Lives," tells us that the elder Howe was one of the 
 " eminent ministers," who in their youth were pupils of Francis Higginson, of 
 Leicester. Higginson left England for America in 1629. Lives of the Puritans, 
 vol. ii. p. 372. 
 
 Obadiah Howe was M.A., and in 1654, Minister of Horncastle ; where he pub- 
 lished " The Pagan Preacher Silenced," in answer to John Goodwin's work, en- 
 titled " The Pagan's Debt and Dowry." He died February 27, 1683. Noncon- 
 formist Memorial, vol. ii. p. 443. An account of him will be found in Wood's 
 " Athenae Oxonienses."
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 13 
 
 bued with a reverence for religion, and nurtured in the strict- 
 est principles of morality. 
 
 He was born May 17, 1630, at Loughborough, Leicester- 
 shire ; of which place his father was minister. 
 
 This excellent man had been appointed to this parish by 
 Archbishop Laud, but was not destined to remain there long. 
 His arrogant patron attached little less importance to the most 
 insignificant ceremonies than to the weightiest articles of the 
 decalogue. He could see no impropriety in sanctioning the 
 Book of Sports, while he was ready to visit the omission of the 
 most trifling ecclesiastical punctilios with relentless severity. 
 As Howe's father, it seems, could not conscientiously comply 
 with those ceremonies, which the zealous Archbishop persisted 
 in introducing into public worship, and by which, whether he 
 intended it or not, he was fast assimilating the Church of Eng- 
 land to the Church of Rome, it was soon discovered that he 
 was not the man for Loughborough, and he was consequently 
 ejected. This can excite no surprise ; for the Archbishop's 
 whole little soul was immersed in pomp and ceremonial ; he 
 seemed to think the restoration of broken crucifixes and 
 damaged paintings, amongst the most sacred cares of his high 
 office, and busied himself as earnestly as if salvation depended 
 on it, in adjusting the position of altars, in prescribing obei- 
 sances and grimaces, in regulating the attire of his clergy and 
 in adding to it some of the frippery of the Romish ecclesiasti- 
 cal wardrobe, which had lain neglected ever since the Refor- 
 mation.*" Had the relentless spirit of persecution by which 
 this man was animated been directed, however erroneously, 
 against the gigantic abuses in the Church, he would at least 
 have escaped our contempt, though not our abhorrence. But 
 to see great power abused to such mean purposes, to see a 
 
 * As an example of the mummeries and antics Laud himself could enact in his 
 public devotion, see particularly the account, in Kushworth, of the consecration 
 of the church of St. Catherine's Creed. His diary is full of amusing traits of 
 his superstitious character. His death alone redeems his memory from con- 
 tempt. That he had considerable learning and no inconsiderable logical acute- 
 ness, is true ; but they go but a little way to compensate for his abject supersti- 
 tion and his odious temper. Even Clarendon admits, while apologising for him 
 as well as he can, that " men of all qualities and conditions, who agreed in 
 nothing else," concurred somehow in their abhorrence of Laud.
 
 14 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 tyrant with the soul of a deputy-master of ceremonies, is 
 surely one of the most ridiculous as well as humiliating of 
 spectacles. 
 
 On being expelled from Loughborough, Mr. Howe and his 
 son sought a refuge in Ireland. After staying there for some 
 time, the rebellion drove them home again. It is not known 
 in what city or town they took up their residence ; but it ap- 
 pears by no means to have proved a safe asylum. " It was 
 besieged by the rebels," says Calamy, "several weeks to- 
 gether, though without success." * 
 
 On May 19, 1647, when seventeen years of age, young Howe 
 was admitted as a sizar into Christ College, Cambridge, f 
 Here he became acquainted with the celebrated Cud worth, and 
 the not less celebrated Henry More, both of whom he admired 
 and loved. With More he formed a close and most endeared 
 friendship, which continued till the death of that great, though 
 unequal and eccentric genius. To his intimacy with these 
 men, Calamy attributes what he aptly calls that "platonic 
 tincture/' which " so remarkably runs through the writings 
 which Howe drew up and published in his advanced years." 
 But in all probability, he imbibed this " tincture," in a far 
 greater degree, from the justly celebrated John Smith, of 
 Queen's College, Cambridge, who was, at that time, in the 
 height of his deserved reputation, and whom, in many points, 
 Howe strongly resembled. J This " platonic " taste, however, 
 is not to be attributed solely, or even principally, to his inti- 
 macy with the admirers of " the great pagan theologue," as 
 Howe himself styles him. Though he drank often at the 
 streams, he drank still more frequently at the fountain. None 
 can peruse his writings, without seeing in almost every page, 
 
 * Calamy, p. 7. See Appendix, No. II. 
 
 t Calamy does not mention the year, but it has been ascertained by a friend 
 of the author, from an examination of the register at Cambridge. See the 
 extract in the Appendix, No. II. 
 
 { " A mind which displays at once such vast intellectual powers, and such 
 exalted spiritual endowments, may well excite our admiration ; and leave us at 
 a loss which most to wonder at, that a man at thirty-five should have made 
 such gigantic strides in literature ; or that, having done so, he should at the 
 same time have made such rapid attainments in the Divine life." Eev. John 
 King, M.A., Preface to his Abridgment of the Select Discourses, pp. 29, 30.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 15 
 
 traces of his ardent admiration of Plato, and proofs that it was 
 the admiration of a kindred mind. Though without the slightest 
 pretensions to the eloquence of the renowned Greek, he bore 
 no mean resemblance to him in loftiness of mind, sublimity of 
 conception, and, above all, in intense admiration of all moral 
 excellence. 
 
 Howe remained at Cambridge till 1648, when he took his 
 degree of B. A. ; after which he repaired to Oxford, where he 
 took the same degree, January 18, 1649. He was at this 
 time not quite nineteen years of age. * 
 
 Here he continued to prosecute his studies with unwearied 
 industry. His extensive attainments, in conjunction with his 
 exemplary piety, soon acquired him reputation in the Univer- 
 sity, and in due time he became Fellow of Magdalen College. 
 On July 9, 1652, when only twenty-two years of age, he took 
 the degree of M.A. By this time he had not only made great 
 attainments in general knowledge, but had " conversed closely 
 with the heathen moralists and philosophprs ; had perused 
 many of the writings of the schoolmen, and several systems 
 and commonplaces of the Keformers." Above all, he had com- 
 piled for himself a system of theology, from the sacred Scriptures 
 alone : " a system which/' as he was afterwards heard to say, 
 " he had seldom seen occasion to alter." 
 
 It would be well if every theological student would, in this 
 as in many other respects, imitate Howe's conduct. Sys- 
 tematic theology, as it has been too often compiled, has, it is 
 true, been of questionable benefit. It has sometimes meant no 
 more than an exposition of a certain set of dogmas, to the 
 defence of which Scripture is by all means to be made sub- 
 
 * While at Cambridge his " most inward friend," as he forcibly, but quaintly 
 expresses it, was Mr. Thomas Wadsworth, a student of Christ's College. Howe's 
 Funeral Sermon for Mr. Richard Adams. 
 
 At Oxford his most " inward friend " seems to have been Mr. Spilsbury, a 
 truly excellent man ; with whom, says Calamy, Howe " kept up a most ultimate 
 and endearing correspondence by letter, to his dying day." Two of his con- 
 temporaries at College, Theophilus Gale and Thomas Danson, attacked his 
 admirable little treatise on the "Divine Prescience; " the former, in his great 
 work, the " Court of the Gentiles ; " the latter, in a most absurd and virulent 
 little book, for which he received from the caustic Andrew Marvell a severe 
 castigation.
 
 16 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 servient, at whatever expense of honesty and sound criticism. 
 Where Scripture speaks, or seems to speak, in consonance with 
 the opinions of the system-maker, well and good ; where it does 
 not, various arts of critical discipline and violence have been 
 employed to break its refractory spirit, or bend it to compli- 
 ance. Forced and unnatural meanings of words, wildly con- 
 jectural emendations of the text, improbable readings, slender 
 authorities, have in many cases been all eagerly resorted to 
 for this unhallowed purpose ; and the Bible has been made the 
 most ridiculous book in the world, just to maintain systems 
 inviolate, and to render theologians self-consistent. And even 
 where the faults of systematizers have not been so glaring, 
 they have not seldom incongruously blended Divine Truth and 
 purely human speculation ; the " head of gold " is to be sup- 
 ported with the " feet of clay." A thousand curious questions 
 have been discussed, on which Scripture is silent, and to which 
 it furnishes no solution; while the mysteries which it does 
 reveal, instead of being received simply on the faith of the 
 inspired testimony which has delivered them, have been 
 defended and explained by the most presumptuous reasonings. 
 In such pernicious systems, the boundaries between what is 
 certain, because Divinely revealed, and what is uncertain, 
 because merely deduced by the processes of a fallible logic, are 
 obliterated; truth is disguised by its union with error, and 
 error rendered plausible by its union with truth. 
 
 These faults, not seldom found in systems of theology, have 
 been in course of correction as more just and comprehensive 
 views of sacred criticism have diffused themselves. Having 
 established the general truth of the inspired volume on its 
 appropriate evidences, theologians saw that it would be more 
 rational to suffer it to explain itself by the help of the grammar 
 and lexicon, than to let their prejudices determine a priori to 
 what doctrines it must be conformable ; in a word, to seek, not 
 some one system, out of the thousand which human ingenuity 
 or folly might construct, with which it might be found to har- 
 monize, but that system, whether apparently consistent or not, 
 which develops itself by a fair and candid interpretation of the 
 inspired page.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 17 
 
 But though it is now generally admitted, that the meaning of 
 Scripture is to be ascertained by a sound system of critical 
 exposition, applied to it as a whole, and without any reference 
 to the apparent (we are sure they cannot be real] discrepancies 
 which may be discovered in the results, it by no means follows, 
 that an attempt, to classify and arrange those results in a 
 logical form, in a system of mutual connexion and dependence, 
 may not be eminently beneficial to the professed theologian. 
 The Bible, it is true, was not delivered to us in any such form, 
 and for this might be assigned many satisfactory reasons, if 
 this were the place for them. Amongst others, however, is 
 this obvious one that professed theologians were not the 
 parties for whom the Bible was exclusively, or even principally 
 intended. Nevertheless, it may be very useful for such men 
 to attempt to reduce its contents to a scientific form. To 
 adduce an obvious illustration : the human body is a most 
 intricate machine, made up of a wondrous collection of organs, 
 differing by every conceivable variety of form, texture, and 
 structure. Now, the great general purposes for which this 
 complicated mechanism was constructed, can be fulfilled only 
 so long as the relations between its several parts remain un- 
 broken; take it to pieces, dissolve intertexture of part with 
 part, and the beauty and utility of the whole are gone. Still 
 it may be very necessary for those whose direct office and pro- 
 fessed object it is to study this wondrous piece of mechanism 
 and to explore its manifold mysteries, to contemplate its 
 several parts in detail ; to consider separately, for instance, the 
 systems of bones and muscles, of arteries and nerves. Much 
 the same value attaches to that species of systematic theology 
 for which we are here pleading ; that is, a coherent system of 
 truth, elicited by an accurate analysis of the contents of reve- 
 lation. The Bible, just as it is, is best adapted for the general 
 practical purposes for which it was constructed : in other words, 
 is most likely to be instructive and interesting to the gener- 
 ality of mankind, in that form in which Divine wisdom has 
 presented it to us ; but it may be useful to specific classes of 
 men reverently and cautiously to analyse and classify its con- 
 tents.
 
 18 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Nor let it be hastily supposed, that the compilation of such 
 a system would be a very trifling matter ; that it would merely 
 require industry, or exclude the exercise of reason or judgment. 
 It is much the contrary. Such a system would be not only 
 valuable for its results ; the mental discipline, the exercise of 
 thought which it would involve, would form no inconsiderable 
 benefit. Such a system, to be all that it ought to be, instead 
 of consisting of a few extracts hastily made from the common 
 version, would include a judicious selection of the several 
 passages of the original Scriptures; statements of the au- 
 thorities on which the text is sustained, where doubt is felt 
 respecting it ; a vindication of the translation adopted, on the 
 principles of enlightened criticism ; a distribution of topics in 
 a logical and mutually dependent order ; and, where it can 
 be effected, the reconciliation of seeming discrepancies and 
 inconsistencies. I cannot but repeat my conviction, that it 
 would be well for every student in theology to imitate, in this 
 matter, so far as leisure might permit, the conduct of John 
 Howe. 
 
 Even at this early period of his life, Howe gave a striking 
 proof, at once of his jealous regard for liberty, and of his 
 exemption from the petty prejudices which disgraced the age. 
 Those prejudices too often prevented Christian communion, 
 even between those who agreed in every essential point of 
 faith and practice. His conduct on the occasion referred to, 
 shows that he had already adopted those just and comprehen- 
 sive principles which continued throughout life to animate him, 
 and which exhibit, in beautiful and impressive harmony, scru- 
 pulous conscientiousness in the maintenance of his own opinions, 
 simply because he believed them to be true, with the most 
 tender indulgence towards those who differed from him. 
 While he would hold communion with none who would insist 
 on his adopting opinions, however unimportant, in which he 
 could not acquiesce, he was willing to extend it to all, whatever 
 the diversity of their sentiments on minor matters, who recog- 
 nised the cardinal principles of Christianity. No religious 
 opinion or practice can be matter of indifference to the in- 
 dividual, because he is compelled to adopt or reject it as he
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 19 
 
 conscientiously believes it to be true or false ; but so long as 
 all mutually claim and allow this liberty, no opinion which 
 does not obviously strike at the vital truths of Christianity, 
 should prevent such communion between the members, and such 
 interchange of offices between the ministers, of different religious 
 parties, as should serve to indicate their essential unity ; and 
 show that though they are, in some respects, many, they are 
 still, in higher and more important respects, one. If any party 
 be unwilling to open its jealous pale, or to admit us to such 
 catholic communion, that is not pur fault. All that is demanded 
 of each Christian is, that he should be found willing to recipro- 
 cate such communion with all who " love our Lord Jesus Christ 
 in sincerity and in truth." 
 
 We are not, it is true, to disguise truth, or even connive at 
 what we deem error, in order to attain this great object; but 
 this point once secured, there is no barrier to inter-communion 
 as is here contended for, which the genuine spirit of charity 
 will not spurn down. These are the true principles of Christian 
 toleration ; as Christians, it is not enough that we allow others 
 to form their own opinions ; we must seek to manifest our 
 essential unity amidst circumstantial differences, by freely 
 holding inter- communion with all, who do not demand as the 
 condition, a surrender of our liberty or an abandonment of our 
 principles. * 
 
 Such was the conduct of Howe on the occasion to which I 
 now refer. It appears that Dr. Thomas Goodwin was the 
 President of the College of which Howe was a Fellow, and had 
 invited the scholars of his house to meet for Christian worship 
 and fellowship. It excited some astonishment, that Howe, 
 whose reputation was already great, both for talent and piety 
 sought no admission into their society. After a time, the 
 Doctor took an opportunity of expressing his surprise, that a 
 
 * These conclusions (although it is admitted that the work was not written 
 precisely with this design) inevitably follow from Jeremy Taylor's theory of 
 Toleration, as expounded in his beautiful treatise, entitled "The Liberty of 
 Prophesying." It is true that he has not fully followed out his principles, but 
 they clearly involve the consequences above stated. The latitude which he 
 allowed to the ministers, none would deny to the other members of the Church 
 of Christ.
 
 20 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 person so universally " esteemed in the College, should not 
 avail himself of such a means of spiritual improvement." Upon 
 this, Howe frankly declared, " that the true and only reason 
 of his conduct was, that he understood they laid considerable 
 stress among them on some peculiarities which he loved not, 
 though he could give others their liberty to take their own 
 way, without censuring them or having unkind thoughts of 
 them ; but that if they would admit him into their society upon 
 catholic terms, he would readily become one of them." To 
 this proposal Dr. Goodwin readily consented. 
 
 Howe could not at this time have been more than twenty- 
 two, or at most twenty -three years of age. At a period of life 
 thus early, did he show that a jealous self-respect and the most 
 scrupulous regard to liberty were by no means incompatible 
 with a magnanimous disregard of minor differences. He had 
 already attained the difficult medium between an excessive zeal 
 and a too compliant charity. 
 
 Very soon after taking his degree of M.A., he was ordained 
 at Winwick, in Lancashire, by Mr. Charles Herle, who was 
 chosen, at Dr. Twisse's death, Prolocutor of the Westminster 
 Assembly. In the parish of Winwick, there were several 
 chapelries, the officiating Ministers of which assisted at Howe's 
 ordination. It was with reference to this, that Howe used to 
 say, ( ' there were few men whose ordination had been so truly 
 primitive as his, having been devoted to the sacred office by a 
 primitive Bishop and his officiating presbytery." Of Mr. 
 Herle, he uniformly spoke in terms of the highest respect. * 
 
 Some time after this, he was led by " an unexpected con- 
 duct of Divine Providence," as Calamy informs us, (though he 
 does not mention what it was,) to Great Torrington,f in Devon. 
 With this place, he seems to have ever after had associations 
 of the strongest and most delightful kind. Here some of the 
 happiest years of his life were spent; here his labours were 
 
 * Calamy, p. 13. 
 
 t Theophilus Powell was ejected from this place in 1646, by the Presbyterians. 
 He was succeeded by Lewis Stukely, an Independent ; after whom came Howe. 
 Galamy, p. 13. Mr. Stukely, it appears, removed to Exetef about 1650. 
 Non. Con. Memorial. Vol. ii. p. 31.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 21 
 
 rendered signally useful; and here lie preached those dis- 
 courses, the substance of which was afterwards embodied in 
 two of his most useful and impressive treatises, his " Delight- 
 ing in God," and his " Blessedness of the Righteous." Though 
 when he first went to Great Torrington, he could have been 
 little more than twenty-four years of age, his persuasive style 
 of preaching, and his still more persuasive example, soon se- 
 cured him the esteem and affection of his people. A striking 
 proof of his influence over them, is afforded in the fact, (inci- 
 dentally mentioned in one of the letters I have extracted from 
 the Baxter MSS.,) that though, "at his first coming to Tor- 
 rington," he found the church divided into two parties, he 
 succeeded, " through God's blessing on his endeavours," in 
 restoring union. The strong impression which he must have 
 produced in this place, is not less strikingly evinced in another 
 fact, recorded by Calamy. It appears that several inhabitants 
 of Torrington,* who had previously been members of the con- 
 gregational church at Bideford, under the pastoral care of an 
 old College friend of Howe,f sought and obtained " their dis- 
 mission" from the church at Bideford, and returned to the 
 bosom of that which, for some unknown reason, they had left. 
 
 Various circumstances have led to the supposition, that 
 Howe was at this time a " congregationalist," in the ordinary 
 sense of that term. Indeed, Dr. Increase Mather, with whom 
 he became acquainted after his removal to London, and whom 
 he persuaded to supply his place at Torrington for some months 
 previous to his own return thither, expressly calls Howe 
 " Pastor of a congregational church at Great Torrington/' 
 But I cannot think that, either at this or any other time, 
 Howe exactly symbolized with the congregationalists, or in- 
 deed with any other party. That his own opinions and prac- 
 tices, especially in all matters of discipline, more nearly coin- 
 cided with those of the congregationalists, than with those of 
 any other denomination, is most true ; all this, however, is by 
 
 * It is not improbable that these formed one of the two parties into which 
 Howe tells us, in the above-mentioned letter, the church at Torrington was 
 divided. 
 
 t Mr. William Bartlett. Calamy, p. 14.
 
 22 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 no means inconsistent with the supposition, (justified by many 
 passages in his writings,) that on some of those minor points 
 which were fiercely agitated in his day, he had no fixed opinion, 
 and that even on some others, in which he had his preferences, 
 he was willing (spiritual discipline, on which he always laid 
 great stress, being duly enforced) to sacrifice his own inclina- 
 tions, * if by so doing, he could promote the union of true 
 Christians, and the welfare of the universal church ; provided 
 always, that the concessions required of him were not of such 
 a nature, nor demanded in such a manner, as to trench upon 
 the rights of conscience, which, with all his latitude, no man 
 guarded with a stricter jealousy than he. 
 
 For example ; though his ejectment is conclusive evidence 
 that he could not belong to the Church of England, as actually 
 established, I do not think that he would have objected to 
 some such modified episcopacy, as would have contented Baxter 
 or Archbishop Usher. That he was not, in several important 
 points, a presbyterian, is plain, though Calamy, who was him- 
 self one, would apparently leave us to infer that he was. I do 
 not think, however, that he would have objected to some slight 
 modification of that form of church government, if he could 
 thereby have promoted the union and prosperity of the Church. 
 
 As it was, the unyielding rigour with which uniformity was 
 enforced, demanded far greater concessions than any with 
 which even his catholicity of temper and latitude of sentiment 
 could comply. Left, therefore, to follow his own judgment 
 and inclinations, he became, in fact, much more of a congrega- 
 tionalist than anything else; indeed, as it respects his views 
 of spiritual discipline, he was strictly so. 
 
 None but such a catholic and magnanimous spirit as his, 
 could have carried into effect, (which he appears to have done 
 
 * See particularly some parts of his incomparable letter to a " Person of 
 Quality," on Stillingfleet's sermon, in which, pleading for his more scrupulous 
 brethren, he speaks of his own comparative " latitude " of opinion. See also 
 the prefaces to his " Blesssdness of the Eighteous," and his " Delighting in 
 God," as well as several other portions of his writings. Nor can the reader fail 
 to perceive some curious instances of his latitude of opinion, or at least of his 
 undecided state of mind on some minor points, in the subsequent letters (pp. 
 39-56).
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 23 
 
 most successfully,) the noble plan mentioned in one of the 
 letters now for the first time published from the Baxter Manu- 
 scripts. This was no less than a "settled meeting of the 
 neighbouring ministers of different persuasions" for mutual 
 edification and fellowship. Great Torrington was the place at 
 which they met. It seems to have been a miniature of that 
 much more extensive scheme, which Baxter was throughout 
 his life toiling in vain to carry into execution, and in which, as 
 the subsequent letters will show, he more than once called 
 Howe, unavailingly, to his aid. 
 
 While at Great Torrington, Howe formed a most endeared 
 intimacy with Mr. George Hughes, of Plymouth, a minister 
 distinguished no less by his piety and worth than by his learn- 
 ing and talents. The connexion between them was further 
 cemented by Howe's marrying the daughter of his friend. 
 This event took place March 1st, 1654. 
 
 The two friends maintained a weekly correspondence in 
 Latin. A curious incident, connected with this correspondence, 
 deserves mention. One day a fire broke out in Howe's house, 
 which was providentially extinguished by a heavy shower of 
 rain. On that very day Howe received a letter from his father- 
 in-law, concluding with this remarkable expression, " Sit ros 
 cceli super habitaculum vestrum ; " " May the dew of heaven 
 be upon your- dwelling." 
 
 Of his indefatigable labours at Torrington, some idea may 
 be formed from the singular account which Calamy received 
 from Howe's own lips, of the services ordinarily held on the 
 public fast-days, which in those times were by no means in- 
 frequent. "He told me," says his biographer, "it was upon 
 those occasions his common way, to begin about nine in the 
 morning, with a prayer for about a quarter of an hour, in 
 which he begged a blessing on the work of the day ; and after- 
 wards read and expounded a chapter or psalm, in which he 
 spent about three quarters of an hour ; then prayed for about 
 an hour, preached for another hour, and prayed for about half 
 an hour. After this, he retired and took some little refresh- 
 ment for about a quarter of an hour more, (the people singing 
 all the while,) and then came again into the pulpit and prayed
 
 24 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 for another hour, and gave them another sermon of about an 
 hour's length; and so concluded the service of the day, at 
 about four of the clock in the evening, with about half an hour 
 or more in prayer." 
 
 This extraordinary passage suggests two or three reflections. 
 
 On the supposition a supposition which the whole history 
 of the period amply justifies that such long services were not 
 peculiar to Torrington, but were the common practice of the 
 day, religious enthusiasm must have been at least as prevalent 
 as sober piety. Nothing but this will account for the outrage 
 on common sense implied in the above-mentioned services, as 
 well as in other practices of the age, not less extravagant. 
 Considering the constitution of the human mind, and the 
 average degree of attention which men are willing to pay, or 
 even capable of paying, not merely to religious duties, but to 
 any duties, we may rest assured that such prolonged devotions 
 could not be generally beneficial. It may perhaps be said, 
 that some few might possess minds so strenuous and piety so 
 exalted, as to enable them to attend to such exercises without 
 distraction. This will be admitted ; but it will be replied, that 
 the duration of public services should be regulated, not by the 
 capacities of the/ew, but of the many ; for whom, indeed, they 
 are instituted. Nor is it to be forgotten, that to thousands 
 they must have been not simply unprofitable, but prejudicial. 
 The young, whose unwilling attendance could have been en- 
 forced only by parental authority not to mention other classes 
 whose compliance with the spirit of the age must have been 
 wofully reluctant could hardly retire from such scenes with- 
 out feeling a strong repugnance to a style of religion which 
 condemned them to such wearisome formalities : and to such 
 it is certain they could have been nothing more. 
 
 Indeed, in this point of view, not only the practice now 
 under consideration, but many other extravagances which 
 marked the religious spirit of the age, must have been emi- 
 nently injurious, as indeed everything must ultimately be 
 which violates the dictates of nature and common sense, or 
 which at best is adapted only to a transient and preternaturally 
 excited condition of the human mind. It is true that when
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 25 
 
 the mind is thus stimulated, it will often display an energy of 
 character, which we shall in vain seek in its more ordinary and 
 healthy state ; it will not only submit to any constraints, but 
 dare any dangers. It was thus with our Puritan ancestors ; 
 but that depth and energy of character could not last, any 
 more than the unnatural fervour which burned in the bosom 
 of the Crusaders : it became extinct in a single generation. If 
 we would have institutions to be lasting, or to exert a perma- 
 nent influence on human character, we must adapt them to 
 human nature, not as it is found under exceptional conditions 
 or circumstances, but as it exists in every country and in 
 every age. 
 
 Ardent as was the piety of thousands of those times, there 
 can be no doubt that to the severe, uninviting, and exaggerated 
 forms of devotion to which it gave rise, is to be attributed not 
 a little of the licentiousness and irreligion of the succeeding 
 reign. The youth, be it recollected, of the Commonwealth, 
 were men in the reign of the second Charles, and were but too 
 likely to take revenge for the constrained austerity in which 
 their childhood was passed, by a proportionate licence when 
 they became their own masters. 
 
 We may rest assured that many a little Puritan, who had 
 been tutored into precocious gravity and unnatural decorum 
 under the grim discipline of his austere elders, was loudest in 
 laugh and song, and wildest in folly and dissipation, when the 
 violent constraint under which he had acted was removed. The 
 transformation which passed on his outward man, when the 
 closely-cropped hair expanded into fashionable luxuriance, and 
 the plain, stiff, and closely fitted dress was exchanged for 
 ruffles and embroidery, was not more striking than that trans- 
 formation of mind, of which indeed it was the expression and 
 the index. 
 
 But to return to the subject which immediately elicited these 
 remarks. Is it at all probable that, except in very rare instances, 
 the ministers (however well disposed the audiences might be) 
 could render such services any other than most wearisome ? 
 It is just conceivable, indeed, that a man like Howe, distin- 
 guished by such exalted piety, by such rare qualifications as a
 
 26 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 preacher, and by a mind so singularly fertile and original, 
 might sustain the attention of the more intelligent amongst 
 his auditors, making allowance, it may be, for a few oblivious 
 moments ; but it is quite appalling to think of the tedium of 
 such a service conducted by men (and there must have been 
 many such) of no more than ordinary piety, and less than 
 ordinary abilities. If, under such circumstances, their con- 
 gregations did maintain their attention, all that can be said 
 is, that there was at least one text of Scripture on which it 
 would have been superfluous for the ministers to expatiate, 
 " Patience " must already have had its " perfect work." 
 
 Even Calamy, a man of the very next generation, confesses 
 that the above service was one " which few could have gone 
 through without inexpressible weariness, both to themselves 
 and their auditors." Well might the preachers of that day 
 be called " painful " preachers ; and surely their auditors were 
 hardly less entitled to be called so too. 
 
 If it were desirable to spend so large a portion of any one 
 day in public services, how easy was it to obviate all incon- 
 venience! Why not divide the service into two or three? 
 But here are seven unbroken hours of " preaching, prayer, and 
 exposition," with the exception of one brief fifteen minutes. 
 That little pause, moreover, was allowed only to the minister; 
 the congregation, it appears, were "singing all the while!"
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FBOM 1656 TO 1658. 
 
 HOWE'S FIEST INTERVIEW WITH CROMWELL PREACHES AT WHITEHALL CROMWELL 
 
 PROPOSES THAT HE SHOULD BECOME HIS CHAPLAIN HOWE'S RELUCTANCE SCRUPLES 
 
 OVERCOME MOTIVES WHICH ACTUATED CROMWELL IN THE SELECTION OF HOWE 
 
 REMARKS ON THE PROTECTOR'S PROBABLE MOTIVES STATE OF RELIGIOUS PARTIES 
 
 LETTERS OF HOWE TO BAXTER, PUBLISHED FROM THE BAXTER MSS. HOWE'S 
 
 RELUCTANCE TO CONTINUE AT WHITEHALL GROUNDS OF IT MANNER IN WHICH HE 
 
 CONDUCTED HIMSELF DURING HIS CONNEXION WITH CROMWELL INSTANCES OF HIS 
 
 DISINTERESTEDNESS, INTEGRITY, AND BENEVOLENCE REFLECTIONS. 
 
 HOWE was no longer to remain the pastor of an obscure 
 country town. One of those trifling incidents, as men are 
 wont to consider them, but on which Divine Providence seems 
 to delight in suspending the most important events, changed 
 the whole tenor of his life, and placed him in a situation of 
 peculiar difficulty and delicacy. At the close of 1656, or in 
 the beginning of 1657,* some important business brought him 
 to London. On the last sabbath of his stay there, (and it is 
 worthy of remark that he had been already detained beyond 
 the period he had assigned for his return,) curiosity led him to 
 the Chapel at Whitehall. The name of the preacher who 
 attracted him thither is unknown. Cromwell was present; 
 and as " he generally had his eyes every where," (to use an 
 expression of Calamy's, not very complimentary to Oliver's 
 devotion,) the noble and expressive physiognomy of Howe 
 soon fell under his notice. Nor was this to be wondered at ; 
 an observer of human nature, far less sagacious than Oliver 
 Cromwell, might have discerned in the lineaments of Howe's 
 face, the indications of no common character. 
 
 * The exact period cannot be ascertained. The first of the letters of Howe to 
 Baxter, which will be found in this chapter, is dated March 12, 1657 ; it shows 
 that he was then Cromwell's chaplain.
 
 28 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 As soon as service was concluded, a messenger was de- 
 spatched, to inform Howe that the Protector desired to speak 
 with him. If surprised at such an extraordinary summons, 
 he must have been still more surprised to hear the Protector 
 (who had already concluded from his appearance that he was 
 a minister) request him to " preach at Whitehall Chapel on 
 the following Lord's day." Howe, whose modesty recoiled 
 from a proposal, which other and more ambitious men would 
 have exulted to embrace, endeavoured to excuse himself. 
 Cromwell, with that peremptoriness which ever characterized 
 him, told him " that it was in vain to think of excusing him- 
 self, for that he would take no denial/' Howe, who did not 
 know much of the arts of a courtier, and probably would have 
 disdained to practise them, pleaded with much simplicity, 
 that " he had despatched all the matters which had brought 
 him to London, that he was now anxious to return home, and 
 that he could not be detained longer without serious incon- 
 venience." " Why," rejoined tjie pertinacious Oliver, "what 
 great injury are you likely to sustain by tarrying a little 
 longer? " To this Howe who, in the spirit of a true pastor, 
 considered the welfare of his flock far more important than 
 the favour of the Protector, their esteem as his highest honour, 
 and their love as his most grateful reward replied, " that his 
 people were very kind to him ; that they would be uneasy at 
 his protracted absence ; that they would think he neglected 
 them, and that he but little valued their esteem and affection." 
 "Well," said Cromwell, "I will write to them myself, and 
 will undertake the task of procuring them a suitable substi- 
 tute." This he actually did ; and Howe, being thus relieved 
 from his scruples, or rather not knowing how to persist in op- 
 posing the wishes of one, whose requests, like those of kings, 
 were little less than commands, consented to the Protector's 
 proposal. But after he had preached once, Cromwell in the 
 same manner insisted upon a second and a third sermon, and 
 prevailed by the same pertinacity as before ; and at length, 
 after much private conversation, told him, that "nothing 
 would serve him but Howe musfc remove to London and 
 become his domestic chaplain, and that he would take care
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 29 
 
 that the people at Torrington should be supplied to their 
 satisfaction." Howe exerted himself to the utmost to escape 
 such an unwelcome honour; but Cromwell, who, as Calamy 
 truly observes, " could not bear to be contradicted after he 
 had once got the power into his hands/' would listen to no 
 denial. * At length, therefore, Howe, who (as appears from 
 a hitherto unpublished letter, which will be found in the 
 following pages) was assured that he would have the means 
 of doing great service to religion in the Protector's household, 
 the whole arrangements of which were to be submitted to 
 himself and a reverend colleague, f was induced to consent. 
 He accordingly removed with his family to Whitehall, where 
 some of his children were born. 
 
 We might conclude, a priori, that if Howe had been at 
 liberty to shape his own destiny, such a situation would not 
 have been precisely the one he would have selected; and the 
 curious correspondence to which reference is made above, 
 proves it. Indeed, such a post, even under far more inviting 
 circumstances, would never have been his choice; for though 
 he had practical talents, which eminently fitted him for impor- 
 tant public functions, all the strongest tendencies of his 
 nature were in favour of contemplative retirement and quiet 
 usefulness. Such a situation, however, as that in which he 
 now found himself, must for special reasons have been dis- 
 tasteful to him. The fanaticism which so strongly pervaded 
 
 * Palmer, in his " Nonconformist's Memorial," differs somewhat from Calamy 
 in the account he gives of the manner of Howe's first introduction to the Pro- 
 tector. He says that his name had been already mentioned to Cromwell, when 
 he appeared at Whitehall Chapel, and that he came there by appointment. 
 But the account in other respects bears on its front marks of improbability, 
 which render it very questionable. Thus it represents Howe, and the gentle- 
 man who mentioned his name to Cromwell, as at that time dividing the suffrages 
 of the congregation at St. Saviour's, Dartmouth. If so, one would think that 
 Howe must have been at least in a condition to accept such a situation, since 
 he would hardly have been proposed candidate against his known wishes. Yet 
 at this period, so far as any evidence can be obtained, nothing could be farther 
 from his thoughts than removing from Torrington, where he had been recently 
 settled, and where he was exceedingly happy. On what authority Palmer's 
 account rests, I know not. Some parts of the account Palmer had received 
 were so improbable, that I see he himself has suppressed them in his later 
 editions. Calamy, from habits of personal intimacy with Howe, was more 
 likely to know the truth. 
 
 t Who this colleague was I know not.
 
 SO LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Oliver's court and household, must, as his conduct and his 
 letters both testify, have been to the last degree repulsive to 
 a mind so remarkably free from every tinge of enthusiasm, 
 and so habitually under the dominion of judgment. Even 
 the extravagances and eccentricities of manner, which marked 
 so many of the religionists in the court of the Protector-, must 
 have excited strong disgust in one whose judgment was too 
 sound and healthy not to dislike oddities of all kinds, but 
 religious oddities above all others ; these last being not only 
 offensive to taste, but injurious to piety. Little knowledge of 
 human nature is requisite to convince us, that the severe sense 
 of propriety, the dignity, the almost majesty of manner, which 
 all who knew Howe have concurred in attributing to him, 
 must have been grievously offended at some of the scenes 
 enacted in Oliver's household, and even in the Chapel at 
 Whitehall. 
 
 But this is not all. The office to which he was thus reluc- 
 tantly promoted, must, for other and still more important 
 reasons, have soon become, as his letters show, intolerably 
 irksome, because it must have been eminently difficult to dis- 
 charge it at once with that discretion which was requisite to 
 secure his own safety, and that integrity which alone would 
 satisfy his conscience. If Howe had been a blind and unscru- 
 pulous partisan, who was prepared to concur with obsequious 
 acquiescence in all that his patron and his patron's adherents 
 might approve, and to purchase a character of devoted loyalty 
 to one party, by a hatred and abuse of every other, his course, 
 however degrading, would have been comparatively plain. 
 But so far from this, there is incontrovertible historic evidence 
 (which will be immediately laid before the reader) that he 
 never concealed his opinions, however adverse to those of his 
 best friends ; that when he did not agree with Cromwell him- 
 self, he did not scruple to say so, and (if he thought the occa- 
 sion of sufficient importance to warrant it) to say so even in 
 public ; and, lastly, that he never missed an opportunity of 
 using his influence with the Protector and his government, in 
 behalf of those who were opposed to both. That he did all 
 this is well known; but that he should have been able to do
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 31 
 
 it, without compromising principle or incurring censure, with- 
 out giving irretrievable offence by his honesty or exciting 
 suspicions by his moderation, argues an extraordinary union 
 of integrity and discretion. His success, however, seems to 
 have been complete ; for not the faintest whisper of calumny 
 has been breathed against him by any party. 
 
 All further remarks on the manner in which Howe con- 
 ducted himself in this arduous situation, will be postponed, 
 until the curious letters, which he addressed to Baxter during 
 the period he remained at Whitehall, shall have been sub- 
 mitted to the reader. In the mean time, some observations 
 on the motives which might have induced Cromwell to select 
 such a man as Howe for his chaplain, may not be thought 
 irrelevant ; especially as they may enable the reader to form a 
 more just idea of the peculiar arduousness and difficulty of the 
 post Howe was now called to occupy. 
 
 For Cromwell's selection of a man like Howe it may appear, 
 at first, difficult to account. 
 
 Of the character of the Protector it would be difficult, even 
 under the most favourable circumstances, to form a just 
 estimate. The special pleading of party-writers, who, by 
 disguising or exaggerating facts, have obscured the very 
 evidence on which a dispassionate opinion might be founded, 
 has rendered it still more so. If we could believe the con- 
 tradictory accounts of his admirers and enemies, we should 
 alternately revere him as adorned with every virtue, and exe- 
 crate him as disgraced with every crime. So singular has 
 been his destiny, that his worst actions have found apologists ; 
 his best, traducers. * 
 
 What, it may be asked, may have been Cromwell's motives 
 in so pertinaciously insisting that Howe should be his 
 chaplain ? 
 
 There is one solution, indeed, of the mystery, which, if 
 admitted, must be satisfactory enough ; it has been contended 
 that Cromwell was a man of genuine piety. Those who adopt 
 this opinion can, of course, have no difficulty in assigning 
 
 * See Appendix, No. IV.
 
 32 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 adequate motives for his conduct on the present occasion. In 
 their estimation, he would have been led purely, or, at all 
 events, principally, by his spiritual sympathies ; he coveted 
 the solace and edification which the conversation and dis- 
 courses of such a man as Howe could not but afford him. This 
 view, Howe's letters to Baxter, inserted in this chapter, 
 though not inconsistent with it, will hardly tend to confirm. 
 
 But whatever side men may take on this subject, we are not 
 without a sufficient clue to the motives which might lead the 
 Protector to select such a chaplain as John Howe. 
 
 Not to mention the admiration which the noble intellectual 
 and moral qualities of the man were calculated to inspire, 
 and very many of them Cromwell was capable of fully appre- 
 ciating, the position in which the Protector stood to the 
 religious parties of the age, especially in the latter period of 
 his life, demanded that he should have at least some such 
 individuals in his court and household ; and if he had found 
 twenty of equal piety, prudence, and reputation, he might have 
 rendered them all subservient, not only to the stability of his 
 government, but to the welfare of the country. Precisely the 
 same motives which impelled him to make the inflexible 
 Hale one of his judges, and Milton one of his secretaries, 
 would lead him to make such a man as Howe one of his 
 chaplains. Of the many proofs of astonishing sagacity which 
 Cromwell displayed, none is more striking than his happy 
 selection of public functionaries. "In nothing/' justly ob- 
 serves Bishop Burnet, "was his good understanding better 
 discovered than in seeking out able and worthy men for all 
 employments." "Whatever latitude and licence he might 
 occasionally allow himself, he was far too sagacious not to 
 perceive that the more upright, impartial, and discreet, were 
 the instruments by which he carried on his administration, and 
 the greater the reputation for piety, for integrity, or for 
 talents, they enjoyed, the more stable would be his govern- 
 ment and the more imperishable his renown, because both 
 would so far be identified with the prosperity and glory of a 
 grateful and exulting nation. The event has justified his 
 sagacity. The general splendour of his administration has
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 33 
 
 half obliterated, in ten thousand minds, the remembrance of 
 his more questionable deeds. But his reasons for the choice 
 of such a man as Howe, will more fully appear, if we consider 
 the peculiar position in which the Protector stood to the 
 religious factions of the age. 
 
 In the great convulsions which preceded the establishment 
 of the Commonwealth, and in which the whole social and re- 
 ligious system seemed resolved back into its original elements, 
 it required no great sagacity to "prognosticate " what Milton 
 calls " an era of sects and schisms." The tremendous excite- 
 ment which those stupendous events produced would alone 
 account for such a result. We might from the history of all 
 such periods be assured, that there would be no lack of system- 
 mongers and theorists of every kind. The usual enthusiasm, 
 too, which distinguishes periods of revolution, was the deeper 
 and more extravagant, that it sprang immediately from religion 
 of all impulses the most powerful. 
 
 Nor was this the only cause of this strange fecundity of 
 " sects and schisms : " the principles of toleration were now 
 for the first time in extensive operation. 
 
 The liberty of opinion, like every other privilege, might of 
 course be expected to be most abused when first enjoyed. * 
 Accordingly, in the age of Cromwell, there were to be found 
 religious parties of every conceivable variety of opinion. Not 
 only were there those great and powerful bodies, constituting 
 the bulk of the people, which still worshipped, as ardently as 
 ever, their idol of '" uniformity," and were only waiting for an 
 opportunity of re-imposing the yoke which the nation had 
 shaken off; but numberless others which (though it might be 
 inconsistent with their principles or impossible from their 
 insignificance and numerical weakness, to cherish any such 
 ambitious designs) eyed each other with mutual jealousy, and 
 struggled for precedence at court or f or influence in the army. 
 It was said of Athens, that you might walk through her streets, 
 
 * It is an axiom now with Englishmen, that whatever the wild forms of error 
 to which freedom of opinion may give rise, it is a privilege, the advantages of 
 which no such evils can ever countervail.
 
 34 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 and more readily find gods than men : it might be said of the 
 latter years of the Commonwealth, that there were almost as 
 many sects as worshippers. There were those who were 
 separated by the widest extremes, and those who differed only 
 by the most invisible shades of opinion ; those who stood " far 
 as the poles asunder," and those who disputed with a still 
 fiercer animosity about some inconsiderable point of ceremonial. 
 From the Papists, who clung to every particle of ancient error, 
 to the Seekers, who, relinquishing Scripture itself, wandered 
 about, like the ancient Jews, "without ephod and without 
 teraphim, without altar and without temple," having, as their 
 name imported, all to find ; from those who brought their 
 illuminations fresh every day from the seventh heavens, to 
 those who still paid the most credulous and timid deference to 
 tradition and antiquity; from those who had been inspired 
 with such plenary light as to dispense with all morality, and 
 with whom, as they perversely expressed it, " all things were 
 pure," to those who practised the most rigid austerities, there 
 might be found every variety and gradation of religious opinion. 
 Some would hear of nothing but an " inward light ; " others 
 clung, with all the tenacity of the ancient Jews, to " carnal 
 ordinances and a worldly sanctuary;" here were sects all 
 rapture and ecstasy, and there others all austerity and decorum ; 
 while some, just rising into notice, united, by a peculiar 
 affinity for absurdities, the profound nonsense of the mystic 
 with the solemn precision of the Pharisee. Here was one 
 pouring out unintelligible rhapsodies ; and there another wait- 
 ing in more grateful silence the illapses of inspiration. There 
 were some so spiritual, that the fine essence of their piety re- 
 mained intact amidst the grossest immoralities ; and there were 
 others, to whom cheerful looks and an innocent jest were as 
 any of the deadly sins. I say nothing of the still more as- 
 tounding, though, happily, more rare species of religious ex- 
 travagance ; of Behmenists snuffing after " angels," and fight- 
 ing with "fiery dragons;" or of naked prophets running 
 through the streets, and most truly representing themselves as 
 " signs and wonders." 
 
 Nor were the controversies on the subject of church govern-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 35 
 
 ment and discipline less various or edifying, than those which 
 respected doctrine and practice. While some would have " all 
 the Lord's people prophets," others would have no ministry at 
 all : here was a party who would divest religion of everything 
 external, and there another, who would make it entirely a 
 matter of ceremony. Religion in one was a disembodied spirit, 
 so purified and defecated, as no longer to need the aids of ex- 
 ternal worship ; and in another, so gross and sensual, as to live 
 only amidst outward observances. 
 
 Some, again, would intrust the magistrate with the " power 
 of the keys," and others would clothe the priesthood with 
 secular authority. While many were for stripping Caesar even 
 of his rightful purple, others were for throwing over it the 
 sacerdotal vest. In not a few instances, the most opposite 
 parties arrived at an edifying unanimity in errors ; and, as if 
 to prove that extremes meet, fifth-monarchy men proclaimed 
 that "all dominion is founded in grace," as vehemently as 
 Papists demanded for the Archpontiff the homage of the 
 world. * 
 
 It is quite true that many of these sects were inconsiderable 
 in point of numbers ; while some of the wilder religious obli- 
 quities which characterized the day, were confined to a few 
 individuals, and even expired with their authors. Nor is it 
 improbable that, if we were to make due search in holes and 
 corners, we might even now hunt out as many sects, and 
 tatters of sects, as could be found at any period of the Common- 
 wealth. But the difference between those times and our own 
 is this ; that the religious extravagancies, which at the formel 
 period stalked abroad at mid-day and in the open streets, now, 
 for the most part, dwell in obscurity and silence; and that 
 while, in modern times, one monstrous folly suffices for one 
 generation, -f* they sprang up in that age like mushrooms. 
 Nor, if enthusiasm had not taken a far deeper and more general 
 hold on the public mind that at any other period of our his- 
 
 * An amusing account of the principal sects of the age, though in some points, 
 doubtless, exaggerated, will be found in Baxter's Life and Times. The inferior 
 sects would, it seems, defy all classification. 
 
 t For example ; the heresies of Regent's Square (1831).
 
 36 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 tory, would even individual extravagancies have manifested 
 themselves in the same way. It will be long, it is to be hoped, 
 in the present day, before we shall see naked prophets running 
 about the streets, or inspired women breaking trenchers in the 
 face of parliament, "as a sign and testimony." 
 
 Though the various religious parties of the day must, in 
 some measure, have neutralized each other's influence; their 
 mutual jealousies, fierce disputes, and in many instances ex- 
 travagant pretensions, must have given the Protector no little 
 trouble. Indeed it may be safely said, that none but himself 
 could have controlled and managed them ; especially when we 
 take into consideration the fact already stated, that there were 
 large and powerful parties waiting only for an opportunity to 
 re-assert their supremacy. Nor is it to be forgotten, that 
 there were amongst these sects designing hypocrites, who, 
 caring for no form of religion, and making their advantage of 
 all, were not scrupulous by what means they promoted the 
 objects of their ambition ; while others, no better than heathens 
 in their hearts, and smiling in secret contempt at all the re- 
 ligious extravagancies of the age, * sighed after a republic on 
 the old Roman model, and consequently exulted in any discon- 
 tents which might increase the perplexities or shake the govern- 
 ment of the great usurper. As long as Cromwell retained the 
 supreme power, he, they well knew, would frustrate every 
 attempt to realize their visionary schemes. 
 
 Such was the conflict of opinion and interest amidst which 
 the proud structure of the Commonwealth was .reared ; and we 
 may well wonder that its builders, like those of Babel, were 
 not compelled to abandon their design long before its comple- 
 tion ; and to abandon it from the same cause the confusion 
 of tongues. 
 
 When we reflect on the discordant elements which Cromwell 
 was compelled to render, not only consistent with his safety, 
 but subservient to his power, exiled royalty itself need not 
 have envied the Protector of England his unstable throne. Of 
 
 * See a remarkable passage in a letter of Howe to Baxter, inserted in the next 
 chapter.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 37 
 
 his empire, that of ^Bolus itself was only an expressive type. 
 The manner in which he controlled those tempestuous elements, 
 and even when almost universally distrusted and hated, main- 
 tained his supremacy unimpaired, strikes us with awe and 
 wonder. Such achievements, though less dazzling to the eye, 
 afford a far more conclusive proof of the vigour of his intellect, 
 than the most renowned exploits of his arms. To poise and 
 balance himself amidst so many disturbing forces, to make 
 anarchy itself do fealty and homage at his throne, required a 
 sagacity and dexterity to which history scarcely presents a 
 parallel. 
 
 The main object of Cromwell's policy was to allow ascendancy 
 to none of the many rejigious parties by which he was sur- 
 rounded; but, at the same time, the amplest liberty com- 
 patible with the maintenance of his power to all. This was 
 evidently his best policy, even if he had not been inclined to 
 pursue it : to do him justice, however, (and this, indeed, con- 
 stitutes the glory of his government,) his wishes in this respect 
 fully coincided with his interests. He was, as Baxter himself 
 admits, in a letter first published in this volume, a man " noted 
 for a catholic spirit, desirous of the peace and unity of all the 
 servants of Christ.'" * To maintain this difficult policy of con- 
 ciliation, his sagacity would instantly perceive, that he must 
 not only have a variety of instruments, but select those instru- 
 ments with the utmost care. In his transactions with such 
 men as those who composed Baxter's party, for instance, he 
 would naturally feel that those whom he employed must be 
 men above suspicion. Distrusted himself, they, at all events, 
 must be capable of inspiring confidence ; and, as they would 
 have to do with so many discordant parties, it was requisite 
 that they should often be men distinguished no less by moder- 
 ation than by integrity. 
 
 Could it escape the penetration of Cromwell, that consider- 
 able advantages might be derived from a man of Howe's in- 
 tegrity, temper, discretion, and, above all, unsullied reputation 
 
 * See the same sentiments still more strongly expressed in Baxter's Life and 
 Times, in his last and revised judgment of Cromwell's character.
 
 38 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 amongst all parties? That he was frequently employed in 
 important missions by Cromwell, is mentioned by Calamy ; * 
 and that men like Baxter gladly availed themselves of such a 
 means of communicating to the Protector their thoughts on 
 public measures connected with religion, is evident from the 
 documents inserted in this chapter. 
 
 Before proceeding to give any further account of Howe's 
 conduct during the period of his residence at Whitehall, I shall 
 lay before the reader the letters he addressed to Baxter from 
 that place ; as well as one from Baxter to him. The originals 
 may be seen among the Baxter MSS., at the library in Bed- 
 cross-street, f 
 
 The passages on which some of the previous remarks have 
 been founded, and which may call for further observation at a 
 subsequent page, will, in order to prevent the necessity of 
 repeated citation, be printed in italics. 
 
 The first of these letters is dated, " Whitehall, March 1 2, 
 57," and must have been written a very few months, perhaps 
 weeks, after Howe's arrival there. It is full of the modesty 
 and courtesy which were characteristic of him. It also shows 
 the high estimation in which he held the character of Baxter, 
 to whom such an epistle, from such a man, must have been not 
 a little gratifying. 
 
 * "Whilst he continued in Cromwell's family he was often put upon secret 
 services ; but they were always honourable, and such as, according to the best 
 of his judgment, might be to the benefit either of the public, or of particular 
 persons. And when he was once engaged, he used all the diligence, and secrecy, 
 and despatch he was able. Once, particularly, I have been informed, he was 
 sent by Oliver in haste, upon a certain occasion, to Oxford, to a meeting of 
 ministers there ; and he made such despatch, that though he rode by St. Giles's 
 church at twelve o'clock, he arrived at Oxford by a quarter after five. In short, 
 he so behaved himself in this station, that he had the ill-will of as few as any 
 man, and the particular friendship of the great Dr. Wilkins, who was afterwards 
 Bishop of Chester, and several others, who were great supports of real piety and 
 goodness in those times, and afterwards eminent under the legal establishment." 
 Calamy, p. 24, 25. 
 
 t As my distance from London prevented my collating the proofs of these 
 letters in the former edition, with the original MSS., a few verbal errors of the 
 copy (which had been hastily made) were retained. These a recent inspection 
 of the MSS. has enabled me to correct. Here and there I have found it difficult 
 to decipher a word, and I have been obliged to give it conjecturally. In the pre- 
 sent edition I have adopted the modern orthography, and for perspicuity's sake 
 have printed the contracted forms of certain words in full.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 39 
 
 "TO THE REV. RICHARD BAXTER, KIDDERMINSTER. 
 
 " Reverend and worthily honoured Sir, 
 
 " I should have been at some uncertainty, whether it 
 were not more proper for me to make an apology for my for- 
 bearing the civility of such a paper salutation to you all this 
 while, or [for] giving you the trouble of it now, had I not 
 suffered myself to be determined by the direction of my hon- 
 oured friend, the bearer. I have been often prompted to what 
 I am now doing, by a deep sense of obligation, and an almost 
 passionate desire of some communication with you ; but my 
 resolutions (even after I have put pen to paper and drawn out 
 my mind into many lines) have been checked by a fear, lest I 
 should be troublesome whilst I would appear thankful, and 
 lest my desire of advantage to myself might seduce me into 
 an attempt, either in itself unseemly, (as the affectation of so 
 unequal an acquaintance might well be thought,) or ungrateful 
 to you, whose constant employments I can easily think to be 
 such as will not allow you to hold a correspondence with any 
 one whose interest it may be to desire and seek it. Only that 
 which with me made the balance more fairly to turn that way 
 'tis now cast, was the experience I had (and my obligation 
 thereby, as well as encouragement) of your great friendship 
 some years since, when, upon a journey, the providence of God 
 afforded the opportunity of seeing you at Kidderminster, which, 
 though I might well suppose you not to remember it, I ought 
 not to forget. 
 
 " And truly, Sir, if that had not been, yet such advantage 
 have your public labours (as I must ever acknowledge) afforded 
 me, both in directing my thoughts in some important doc- 
 trines of the gospel, when I was much fluctuating, and not able 
 with any satisfaction to acquiesce in the common dictates of 
 modern writers, as also, through the mercy of God, in further 
 awakening and quickening my heart in minding the concern- 
 ments of another world ; and such have your endearments been 
 to me thereby, that I could not, without offering violence to 
 myself, (as in a measure I have for some years,) have forborne 
 to tell you how much I owe you upon that account. 
 
 " And, Sir, my heart's desire and prayer is, that your Lord 
 would long continue and succeed your labours to the good of 
 his church, and that the great acceptance they have found, 
 and the visible blessing that hath attended them, may so far 
 outweigh the discouragements you may have received from the
 
 40 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 opposition of prejudiced minds, that they may not prevail with 
 you to desert any cause of God you have undertaken to plead 
 for. And, indeed, Sir, it is my strong persuasion, that if your 
 long expected new edition of your ' Aphorisms ' may at length 
 see the light, with what you have prepared about universal 
 redemption, the entertainment they will find with this next 
 generation, when they shall meet with unforestalled judgments, 
 at liberty to receive things according to their evidence ; and 
 the influence those principles will have into preaching of the 
 gospel, which, according to the divinity that hath of late 
 generally obtained, I know not how any could preach consis- 
 tently, and without hesitance and regret, which cannot also, as 
 we know by experience, but be derived into the minds of hear- 
 ers, and so make at last but .halting and unsettled Christians, 
 and divert many from ever being such in truth, will be such 
 as will greatly overbalance the evil that may be occasioned by 
 some men's present impatient reception of them. And however* 
 about redemption, Davenant and Amyrald may have spokea 
 many of your thoughts, yet their books do not so commonly 
 fall into the hands of young scholars (whose minds, while such, 
 are least prepossessed, almost ' rasa tabula ') as yours are like 
 to do. I rejoice to hear what you are doing about confirma- 
 tion ; I doubt not but it will be a welcome endeavour to many 
 that easily see the convenience, but understand not the warrant 
 of such a course ; and am much confident that if that practice 
 shall appear to have as clearly a necessitas prcecepti as medii * 
 to enforce it, the latter is so clear that we may hope it to obtain 
 generally in a short time. 
 
 " Sir, I presume upon your pardon for this trouble. I shall 
 only add to it thus much. I perceive you have understood, by 
 my uncle,f where my present station is. J If you can think it 
 
 * This, I apprehend, is explained in the foregoing sentence. I presume he 
 means, that if confirmation could be as clearly shown to be a duty enjoined in 
 the word of God, as he deemed it to be useful and convenient, the practice would 
 soon become general. Further light is thrown upon this passage by the reasons 
 which Baxter himself assigns for writing the work. " Many," says he, " called 
 on me to try whether some more Scripture proofs might not be brought for it, 
 that the preceptive as well as the mediate necessity might appear." It is proper 
 to add, that this work is not intended to be, as many readers of the title would 
 imagine, a defence of any special mode of confirmation, but of the principle on 
 which some such rite is professedly founded ; that all who are baptized in infancy 
 should make a public profession of religion when they arrive at years of discre- 
 tion, and that unless such profession be deemed satisfactory, they should not be 
 admitted to the privileges of church membership. 
 
 t Mr. Upton, mentioned in Baxter's reply. { At Whitehall.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 41, 
 
 worth your while, I should be exceeding desirous to hear from 
 you, what you apprehend to be the main evils,* of the nation 
 that you judge capable of redress by the present Government ? 
 what you conceive one in my station obliged to urge upon them 
 as matter of duty in reference to the present state of the nation ? 
 and how far you conceive such a one obliged to bear a public 
 testimony, against their neglects, in preaching, f after use of 
 private endeavours ; supposing that either they be not convinced 
 that the things persuaded to are duties to them, or else, if they 
 be, that it be from time to time pretended that other affairs of 
 greater moment are before them for the present ; which, being 
 secret to themselves, as I cannot certainly know that they are so, 
 so nor can I deny but they may be. Sir, the Lord knows I desire 
 to understand my duty in matters of this nature ; I hope he 
 ivill then give me a heart not to decline it : J and if you will 
 please to contribute your help hereto, it may possibly be of 
 public use ; and will certainly (though that signify little) be 
 exceeding acceptable and obliging to him, who must profess 
 and subscribe himself, 
 
 " Rev. Sir, 
 
 " An affectionate honourer of you, 
 and your labours, 
 
 "JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " Whitehall, March 12, 57." 
 
 The reply to this, the only letter of Baxter's in this corre- 
 spondence which I have been able to recover, is dated April 3, 
 1658 ; seemingly, more than a year after the receipt of Howe's 
 letter, unless, indeed, we may suppose the discrepancy accoun- 
 ted for by a reference to the old style of dating letters. The 
 contents, however, show that it was really a reply, and that no 
 letter had passed in the mean time, whether the interval be 
 
 * With respect, of course, to the state of religion. 
 
 f Howe, no doubt, soon began to find, that the office of chaplain to Oliver and 
 his household would be no sinecure to a conscientious man, who, like himself, 
 could not wink at what he deemed inconsistencies of conduct or omissions of 
 duty. He, at least, was in earnest more so, probably, than his patron could 
 wish. Had he simply lent his talents and his character to aid Cromwell's 
 designs, and, while supporting his public influence, shut his eyes to the state 
 of things at home, the Protector would probably have been quite satisfied. 
 
 J This part of Howe's letter is highly creditable to him. It is a noble exhibi- 
 tion of conscientiousness and integrity. 
 
 Nor does there seem any reason to doubt, that this is the true way of ac- 
 counting for the apparently long interval between Howe's first letter and Baxter's,
 
 42 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 longer or shorter. Baxter, at the commencement of the letter, 
 admits, and apologizes for, his long silence. When we consider 
 the multiplicity and magnitude of his labours, the wonder is, that 
 he should have found time for any epistolary correspondence at 
 all.* 
 
 This letter which is, in many respects, very characteristic 
 of the writer is now subjoined : 
 
 "TO THE KEV. JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " Dear Brother, 
 
 " Upon this first opportunity, (though long after,) I 
 return you thanks for your visit at Kidderminster, and another 
 thanks for your kind and acceptable letters. You'll pardon me 
 the omission of all compliments. Your famed worth, with your 
 advantageous station for a serviceableness to these churches, 
 doth make me very ready and glad of a correspondence with 
 you. As to the subject of your letters, 1, The cause of the 
 delay of the (appearance) of my ' Aphorisms' hath been, that 
 I thought totally to suppress them, and publish a small body 
 of Theology in its stead ; but multitudes of pressing businesses 
 have so oft and long diverted me from so great a work, (begun,) 
 that I am changing my thoughts, upon a despair of leisure. 
 My pages of ' Redemption ' have long lain by me ; but I sup- 
 press them for Peace, f 2, I would have you very tender and 
 
 reply. At this period, and up to 1753, there were two methods of computing the 
 commencement of the year. The historical year hegan 1st of January; the civil, 
 ecclesiastical, and legal year on the 25th of March. Supposing Howe and Bax- 
 ter to use the latter method, as they very probably would, Howe's first letter, 
 dated March 12, would have been written in 1657, and Baxter's reply, dated 
 April 3, 1658, as truly in 1658, though little more than three weeks, instead 
 of somewhat more than a twelvemonth, had elapsed between them. 
 
 * Yet, from the immense mass of letters (and but a small portion of his cor- 
 respondence can have been preserved after all) in the Baxter MSS. most of 
 them, by the by, on controversial subjects, and many of them as large as a 
 modern pamphlet one would think that letter-writing was this great man's sole 
 employment. That he could manage, amidst it all, to compose his eight score 
 and eight publications, many of them quartos, besides prefaces and commenda- 
 tory introductions innumerable, is a miracle of industry, which might well 
 astonish even his voluminous contemporaries, and which will continue to puzzle 
 a degenerate posterity. 
 
 t Printed Pearse in the former edition. I imagined it might refer to some 
 expected piece of Dr. Thomas Pierce, or Peirce, (for the name is spelt in various 
 ways,) one of the most vigorous of the innumerable opponents, with one or other 
 of whom this Ishmael amongst controvertists was perpetually engaged. But on 
 looking more carefully at the MS., I think the present is the most probable read- 
 ing.
 
 LIFE 01 JOHN HOWE. 46 
 
 cautelous * in publishing any of the neglects of governors. A 
 time there is for open plain dealing ; but as long as the case is 
 not palpable, desperate, and notorious, and you have leave to 
 speak privately, that may suffice you. The welfare of the 
 church, and peace of the nations, lies much on the public 
 reputation of good magistrates, which, therefore, we should 
 not diminish, but promote. 3, / would awaken your jealousy 
 to a careful (but very secret and silent) observance of the infidels 
 and Papists, who are very high and busy, under several garbs, 
 especially of Seekers, Vanists, Sehmenists. Should they infest 
 
 our vitals, or get into the saddle, where are we then ? 4, 
 
 The Lord Protector is noted as a man of a catholic spirit, de- 
 sirous of the unity and peace of all the servants of Christ. We 
 desire nothing in the world (at home) so much as the exercise 
 and success of such a disposition : but more is to be done for 
 union and peace. Would he but, 1, take some healing princi- 
 ples into his own consideration ; 2, and, when he is satisfied in 
 them, expose them to one or two leading men of each party, 
 (Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Congregational, Erastian, Ana- 
 baptist,) and privately feel them, and get them to a consent ;f 
 3, and then let them be printed, to see how they will relish, 
 (with the ftasons annexed ;) 4, and then let a free-chosen 
 assembly be called to agree upon them, he would exceedingly 
 oblige, and endear all the nations to him ; and I am confident 
 as I live, that, (by God's blessing,) he may happily accomplish 
 so much of this work, if he be willing, as shall settle us in 
 much peace, and prevent and heal abundance of our distem- 
 pers : for, 1, I dare undertake to produce such principles as 
 may do it j 2, and his interest (supposing our general prepara- 
 tion, by a weariness of divisions) may well bring them (aa far 
 as aforesaid) into association. 
 
 " Because Mr. Upton told me that you desired a correspon- 
 dence with me, in order to this business, (and nothing in the 
 world belonging to these nations sits nearer my heart,) I have 
 adventured to inclose these three pages, + which will acquaint 
 
 * This illustrates the old adage, that "those who look on see better than those 
 who are engaged in the game ; " for Baxter was not always quite so " cautelous " 
 as he here recommends his friend to be. 
 
 + "Comprehension," was Baxter's favourite and long-cherished project. His 
 temperament, we know, was sanguine. If we had no other proof, however, the 
 above passage would be sufficient. What else could sustain the hope, that, in the 
 then circumstances of the nation, these heterogeneous parties could be made to 
 coalesce ? by what spiritual alchemy did he expect to effect it ? 
 
 I This was one of several proposals for a " comprehension," which Baxter, at 
 different periods, laid before the Protector's chaplains. Some remarks on these,
 
 44 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 you with the healing principles, though a more exact digesting 
 and wording of them is necessary. One was intended for some 
 Parliament men, for their satisfaction, but never showed them. 
 Another was in answer to a reverend brother near you, who, 
 being asked by me to write down all that he judged of neces- 
 sity for the Presbyterians to grant to the Congregational party 
 for unity sake, did write down only the words mentioned in 
 Micah vi. 8. So that we are fully agreed if men be willing ; 
 (and yet more may be done.) The third is a form of agree- 
 ment to be subscribed by associations of godly men, of different 
 judgments ; containing so few things and plain, as all may 
 agree in that are fit for our communion. Somewhat more I 
 shall venture to say to the rulers in my treatise of confirmation, 
 if God will, which is about a fortnight ago finished. It's a 
 fearful case, that godly ministers should be so bad that all this 
 ado should be necessary to our healing, and all will not do 
 without the magistrate. The Lord require not this at our 
 hands. I have proposed nothing but what I am confident all 
 parties may yield to, without crossing their principles, if they 
 will. Sir, I commit these things to your consideration, re- 
 maining 
 
 " Your unworthy Bother, 
 " April 3, 1 658." " Ki. BAXTER. 
 
 " I pray you persuade men not to despise those they call 
 Royalists and Episcopalians, either because they are now under 
 them, or because of contrariety of worldly interests ; for these 
 things signify less than carnal hearts imagine : and who knows 
 what a day (and a righteous God) may bring forth ? " * 
 
 The next letter of Howe's is dated Whitehall, April 13, 
 1653, and is almost wholly taken up with the proposed plan 
 for " comprehension/' mentioned at the close of Baxter's 
 letter. 
 
 "TO THE EEV. KICHARD BAXTER. 
 
 "Reverend Sir, 
 
 " I have with much gladness and satisfaction received 
 and perused your treatise, with the inclosed papers. I dare not 
 
 his praiseworthy, though, under the circumstances, futile efforts, will be found 
 at a subsequent page. 
 
 * This postscript indicates the high opinion Baxter entertained of the 
 moderation and liberality of his correspondent. To what other member of Oliver's 
 household would he have thought it worth while to prefer such a request as this ?
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 45 
 
 further press the first thing I mentioned in my former. * And 
 do most heartily thank you for your advice as to the second, f 
 That which you next mention hath been much in my fears, j 
 and the next to that (which your papers have referred to) as 
 much in my desires, since I came to have any understanding 
 and consideration of the public affairs of the church of Christ. 
 As to this last, but a few days before yours came to my hands 
 (upon occasion of the presentation of the articles of the Essex 
 association to his Highness, in order to the obtaining an appro- 
 bation from him,) and his committing yours to my perusal, I 
 made such a motion to him that he would please once for all to 
 invite by some public declaration, the godly ministers of the 
 several counties and of several parties, to the work of associat- 
 ing upon such common principles as might be found tending 
 to general good, and not cross to the private opinions of the 
 several parties ; which was a thing the Essex articles pretended 
 to, but, to my apprehension, did not attain. He expressed a 
 great willingness thereto, might he but see anything in writ- 
 ing, that upon consideration he could judge likely to serve 
 such a purpose. Your papers I reckon came very seasonably 
 upon that account. Only before I offer any of them to his 
 view, I thought it meet to advise with you. 1, whether it 
 may not be a more hopeful course to attempt first the reconcil- 
 ing only of the two middle parties, Presbyterian and Congre- 
 gational ? inasmuch as the extreme parties would be so much 
 startled at the mention of an union with, one another (as Ana- 
 baptists with Episcopalians, yea, or with Presbyterians) that 
 it might possibly blast the design in its very beginning : but 
 if those two other parties could be brought together first, en- 
 deavours might afterwards be used for drawing in the rest 
 (probably with more success) ; and therefore whether accord- 
 ingly it were not best to present to his Highness only what 
 might serve that end ? || 2, Whether it were aot very ex- 
 
 * The reader will recollect that Howe had urged on Baxter a republication of 
 his " Aphorisms." 
 
 t That is, as to the conduct he should pursue with respect to the before-men- 
 tioned " neglects of governors." 
 
 I The movements of the several religious parties, which Baxter in the preced- 
 ing letter advises him so narrowly to watch. 
 
 He alludes to the last topic of Baxter's letter, "comprehension." 
 
 || This letter strikingly exhibits certain points of difference between Howe 
 and Baxter. Both possessed a large and catholic spirit ; both pursued with 
 equal ardour the welfare of the Christian church : but Howe united with all 
 :this a coolness of judgment, a discreet and cautious spirit, which could not
 
 46 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 pedient that you did (ere anything be further done) drive the 
 business to an issue with that reverend person you have been 
 treating with, that, if he be satisfied, his concurrence herein 
 may be obtained, and help in presenting and explicating things 
 to his Highness for his satisfaction ; because if he be a person 
 of interest with his Highness, (as I guess him to be,) it is likely 
 he will be consulted with, at least will hear something about 
 the business before it comes into act, and so might possibly 
 (being unsatisfied) hinder what otherwise he might greatly 
 help. * Sir, out of a real fear, lest so excellent a work should 
 be spoiled in the managing, I shall wait to hear further from 
 you about these things, and in the meantime, remain, 
 
 " Sir, 
 " Yours in sincere affection and observance, 
 
 "JOHN HOWE. 
 " Whitehall, April 13, 1658. 
 
 " Sir, be pleased to underwrite to your subscription of future 
 letters thus : To be left with Mr. Edward Eaddon, at the 
 letter-office, in the Poultry, to be conveyed," &c. f 
 
 In the next letter, dated May 8, 1658, we find Howe still on 
 the same subject. 
 
 "TO THE BEVEREND EICHAED BAXTER. 
 
 " Reverend and dear Sir, 
 
 " The occasion of my so long silence hath been the 
 difficulty of Mr. Nye's and my meeting together; he having 
 been at sometimes out of town, and myself at others, ever since 
 
 consist with the sanguine temperament of Baxter, and which are indeed rarely 
 conjoined with so much integrity and so much benevolence as Howe possessed. 
 He saw at once the hopelessness of the scheme as proposed by Baxter, but had 
 the object too sincerely at heart to abandon the attempt altogether. 
 
 * In this part of his letter Howe shows not only his discretion, but his 
 superiority to mean and petty jealousies. The "reverend person " to whom he 
 alludes, was, as it appears by the subsequent letters, Mr. Nye. Howe was willing 
 to relinquish the honour of being the sole or even the principal party intrusted 
 with the management of this affair. So that the thing were done, he cared not 
 by whom. 
 
 f What might be Howe's motives for requesting his correspondent (whose 
 previous letters were directed to Whitehall) to send his communications by this 
 circuitous route, it is in vain to inquire. One might conjecture that possibly 
 some persons, jealous of his correspondence with Baxter, and thinking that it 
 might be as well to learn what was its import, had been tampering with the seal 
 of former letters.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 47 
 
 yours came to my hands, until Monday last, when I had the 
 opportunity of some discourse with him, which I purposed to 
 have given you an account of by the Thursday's post, but the 
 (to me) sudden news of a fast to be kept here next day, diver- 
 ted me. 
 
 " I judged it necessary to treat with him about what we have 
 in hand, as easily foreseeing so public a business of that nature 
 was not likely to be brought to pass but he would either be 
 consulted with (which I thought most probable) or at least 
 would some way hear of it, and if he disliked, hinder it. Two 
 of your papers he perused, that you sent up last, and that which 
 is drawn into the form of an agreement. In your letter he dis- 
 liked what you lay down, or rather what he thinks you intend, 
 as descriptive of visible believers, namely, a credible profession 
 of faith and holiness ; and said he was confident you intended 
 by profession, something in opposition to such a deeper dis- 
 covery as he should think necessary, and that there would 
 never be an agreement about that matter. Also he expressed 
 a dislike (much according to what you intimated in your last) 
 of an association so formed by a covenant or engagement to 
 such and such practices ; for he said, such things as you there- 
 in engage to practise, were either duties before or not ; if they 
 were, 'tis unnecessary; if not, he was born free, and why should 
 he come under bonds ? fearing (as he said) a reproachful ejec- 
 tion out of such communion, if there should not be a compli- 
 ance in all things. To which my thoughts were that it was no 
 unnecessary thing to engage to what was duty before, except 
 all renewing of our covenant with God were unnecessary ; and 
 for his fear, etc., I propounded that this might be put into the 
 agreement, that no person should be liable to ejection for any 
 such principles or practices, as he or any were known to be of 
 at their admission. In fine, he professed a willingness to pro- 
 mote an Association, to be founded only on the fourth article 
 of your practical agreement, and that all differences and fur- 
 ther overtures for agreement be left unto debate after such an 
 association should be entered, and that he could yield so far, in 
 order to accommodation, as was expressed in a paper presented 
 to the committee for accommodation of Lords and Commons. 
 Which paper he said you knew, and desired me to inquire of 
 your thoughts concerning it. The paper you will find at the 
 thirtieth page of the last part of that book, entitled "The 
 Grand Debate," if you have it by you. I desired him to give 
 his sense of the whole business in writing, lest I should misre-
 
 48 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 present him, but that I could not obtain. But I think this is a 
 true sum of what I had from him. 
 
 " Sir, I shall wait for your further directions, only my present 
 thoughts are, that if his offered help be accepted for procuring 
 of such a general association as was before mentioned, the other 
 practicals in your paper will be found (as to the main of each) 
 of so evident necessity, that they will, by recommendation, 
 easily obtain throughout the whole. More I have not to add 
 but that I am, Sir, 
 
 " Yours most affectionately, 
 
 " May 5th, 58. " JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " To my reverend friend, 
 " Mr. Richard Baxter, 
 
 " Minister of the Gospel, Kidderminster." 
 
 On the two last letters, I have to make a few remarks. If 
 the representation given in a preceding page, of the state of 
 religious parties be correct, it seems wonderful that men like 
 Baxter and Howe should have laboured in the hopeless attempt 
 at uniting even the principal of them. But " comprehension," 
 .as it was called, or an union of all the considerable parties of 
 the church, based on the admission of the fundamental doctrines 
 of Christianity, had been, for many years, a darling scheme of 
 Baxter's. Though this great man loved his prejudices much, 
 it is but just to say, that he loved charity and peace still more. 
 Howe was a man of a spirit yet more catholic. Provided liberty 
 of conscience in indifferent matters were insured to each party, 
 he would have freely held communion with all who did not 
 deny the essential doctrines of the gospel. 
 
 Such a " comprehension/' or rather " inter-communion," be- 
 tween both ministers and people of different denominations, is 
 what the church of Christ sighs for. It would prove her mem- 
 bers to be truly one, far more conclusively than could the 
 exactest external uniformity; for such an union would carry the 
 evidence of its reality with it. Unlike those kinds of union 
 which have hitherto contented the Christian church, it would 
 not depend on party-prejudices, but exist in defiance of them. 
 To feel ourselves one with those who differ from us, requires 
 and proves the existence of an ardent charity : to be one with
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 49 
 
 our own party, demonstrates, at best, only our participation in 
 the opinions of others, and frequently no more than a partici- 
 pation in their prejudices. 
 
 Such an union as that for which Baxter and Howe panted, 
 awaits the gradual growth of a more expansive spirit of charity 
 throughout the Christian church : it must be the effect of love, 
 but cannot precede it. In the time of the Commonwealth, the 
 animosities between religious parties were evidently far too 
 strong to admit any hope of attaining this object ; nor is the 
 period yet arrived at which any such sublime theory can be 
 realized. 
 
 The present letters, however, serve to show, with what single- 
 minded purpose, with what exalted charity, these great men 
 laboured in this thankless office. * 
 
 * I do not know any part of the volume in which I can more appropriately 
 introduce the following document of Howe which I found, in his own hand- writ- 
 ing, amongst the Baxter MSS. It appears to have been the copy of some paper, 
 drawn up by him at the command of the Protector, during his residence at 
 Whitehall. The latter part of it is deeply interesting, and shows that he had 
 lost nothing of that healing and peaceful spirit which induced him, when at 
 Torrington, to form a " settled meeting " of the ministers of different persua- 
 sions, and which animates the preceding letters on the subject of a " compre- 
 hension." 
 
 " That it must be acknowledged, God hath blessed this nation with great 
 plenty and liberty of gospel preaching beyond what it hath enjoyed in former 
 times. 
 
 " That it is yet to be observed and lamented, that the gospel hath not a success 
 proportionable thereto. 
 
 " That a more general conversion of souls throughout the land cannot but be 
 a thing most desirable to every upright and honest heart, both as a pledge of 
 God's continued presence among us, and as the great end (as it is to be hoped) 
 of all the salvations he hath wrought for us. 
 
 " That however the Spirit of God is acknowledged most free in all its opera- 
 tions upon the souls of men, as ' the wind that bloweth where it listeth ; ' yet, 
 since it is its wonted course to work by means, it cannot but be much the con- 
 cernment of them who, by their calling, are more especially obliged to intend the 
 conversion of souls, to take heed lest they be wanting in any such endeavours as 
 the Lord may probably bless and prosper to that end. 
 
 " That the public preaching of the gospel is to be confessed an ordinance of 
 God of great necessity and usefulness in order thereunto. 
 
 " That it is yet to be hoped, it might prove a great furtherance to the success 
 of the gospel, if they who are appointed to the work of public preaching, did also 
 (within their respective precincts) use other more private endeavours with their 
 hearers, (such as shall admit thereof,) instructing them in the things of God they 
 are ignorant of ; pressing upon them what they know ; inquiring into the state of 
 their souls ; and applying themselves to them accordingly. 
 
 " That it cannot but seem probable, that many ignorant hearers, not so well 
 capable of understanding a continued [continuous] and transient discourse, 
 might yet, by a way of private and familiar interlocution, be brought to some
 
 50 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 But to return to the correspondence. 
 
 The next letter of Howe, dated Whitehall, May 25, is in- 
 scribed by an unknown hand, to Mr. Vines. If really addressed 
 to that person, it is impossible to tell what was the subject of 
 
 knowledge of the doctrines of the gospel they are yet unacquainted with ; and 
 that many inattentive hearers (who regard not often what is spoken to them 
 from the pulpit, though of weightiest concernment to their souls) would yet 
 be obliged to attention unto such a discourse wherein themselves are to bear a 
 part. 
 
 " That, upon the account of the public maintenance such persons in the minis- 
 try enjoy for their work's sake, they are necessarily obliged, in justice and equity, 
 to make it their business to seek the good of souls, and spend their time and 
 strength herein ; having an universal care (as much as in them lies) of the people 
 among whom they are placed. 
 
 " That, however this infer not an obligation upon them of dispensing unto 
 any, such privileges or ordinances as they are not in a present capacity for : 
 yet it cannot but be obliging [on] them not to neglect any necessary endea- 
 vours for the good of their souls, and by which they may be instrumental to 
 help them into that capacity for more peculiar ordinances they are yet short 
 of. 
 
 " That, therefore, the ministers of the gospel within this nation, as they 
 would approve themselves persons seriously intending the honour of God and 
 saving of souls, be exhorted to give all diligence for the fulfilling of their minis- 
 try. And that besides their constant work in public preaching, they design 
 some time from week to week, for visiting of families within their several 
 charges, or otherwise conferring with particular persons (to whom their labours 
 in this kind shall be acceptable,) about the state of their souls, and the con- 
 cernments of another world; and that, (where either the numerousness or 
 averseness of their people do not render it impossible to them,) they labour 
 to be acquainted with the spiritual states of all under their charge, and accord- 
 ingly to instruct, warn, exhort, or comfort them, as the case shall require. 
 Futhermore, 
 
 " That the people be exhorted to accept and improve their offered help and 
 assistance herein. 
 
 " And that, whereas the present differences in judgment and practice among 
 the professors and preachers of the gospel, about some circumstantial matters 
 relating to church order and discipline, together with their too visible distances 
 and estrangements from each other upon that account, are so apparently ob- 
 structive to the progress of religion and conversion of souls, (through the 
 scandal and offence that arises hereby unto many :) the godly ministers be invited 
 to maintain (as far as possible) a Christian and brotherly communion with each 
 other. And to that end, that they hold frequent meetings together, within con- 
 venient circuits, for the amicable debating of all the things wherein they differ, 
 and the strengthening one another's hands in the things wherein they agree ; 
 the repressing the growing errors of the times, and carrying on (with as much 
 unanimity and consent as may be) the great work they are engaged in. And 
 finally, 
 
 " That all lawful protection and encouragement be promised them, while they 
 are thus faithfully active (within their spheres and in the things that concern 
 their calling,) for the honour of God and the good of souls. 
 
 " JOHN HOWE." 
 
 I need not add, that this document fully shows that the principles of toleration 
 were extensively understood, and must have been, also, extensively recognised 
 and acted on by the Protector's government.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 51 
 
 the conversation with Mr. Nye referred to in the commence- 
 ment of the letter ; but if, as seems most probable, the letter 
 was addressed to Baxter, the passage in question is explained 
 by the preceding letter. The writer, however, soon hastens to 
 another, and to us, more interesting matter his repugnance 
 to the thought of remaining any longer at Whitehall. The 
 whole is worthy of an attentive perusal. 
 
 " Reverend Sir, 
 
 " I cannot yet meet with an opportunity for further 
 discourse with Mr. Nye, nor do I hope for much success in any 
 further treaty with him ; I perceive so steady a resolution to 
 measure all endeavours of this kind by their subservience to 
 the advantage of one party. I resolve, therefore, to make 
 trial what his Highness will do, as speedily as I can. My time 
 will not serve me long ; for I think I shall be constrained in 
 conscience (all things considered) to return, ere long, to my for- 
 mer station. I left it, I think, upon very fair terms. For, first, 
 when I settled there, I expressly reserved to myself a liberty of 
 removing, if the providence of God should invite me to a con- 
 dition of more serviceableness anywhere else, which liberty I 
 reckon I could not have parted with if I would, unless I could 
 have exempted myself from God's dominion. My call hither, 
 was a work I thought very considerable ; t he setting up of the 
 worship and discipline of Christ in this family, wherein I was 
 to have joined with another, called upon the same account ; 
 I had made, as I supposed, a competent provision for the place 
 I left. Bat now at once I see the designed work here hopelessly 
 laid aside. We affect 'here to live in so loose a way* that a 
 man cannot fix upon any certain charge to carry towards them 
 
 * This passage is explained by a sentence at the close of the letter. He there 
 cautions his correspondent not to disclose too freely " the disorderliness of 
 Cromwell's household, as to the matters of religion and God's worship." This 
 makes it evident that the above words, " so loose a way," were not intended to 
 imply, as they ordinarily would in our tunes, any licentiousness or immorality. 
 The gravity and almost austerity of Cromwell's manners, and the severe pro- 
 priety which ever characterized his court, are well known ; nor have any but 
 his most unprincipled traducers, ventured to say anything to the contrary. Had 
 he kept the more subtle and spiritual vices of the human heart, such as ambi- 
 tion and pride, in the same severe subjection as those of animal nature, history 
 would have had little but what was grateful to say of him. 
 
 It is a conclusive proof of the propriety of manners which must have pervaded 
 Cromwell's court, that such men as Howe could stay there. Had it been like 
 that of the second Charles, he would not have applied to his friend Baxter to 
 know whether he should remove or not ?
 
 52 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 as a minister of Christ should : so that it were as hopeful a 
 course to preach in a market, or in any assembly met by chance, 
 as here. In the meantime, the people I left are breaking into 
 parties ; cannot meet in any one person as they profess they 
 could in me ; and are now wholly destitute ; and, having heard 
 of some inclinations on my part towards them, invite my re- 
 turn. I cannot meet with any argument against it, except 
 fleshly ones, which I hope God will help me to slight. If you 
 will please to afford me your thoughts about it, I shall be 
 thankful; being desirous (so far as I understand myself) to 
 spend my little time in the world to the best advantage of the 
 glory of God. I am through haste constrained abruptly to 
 subscribe, 
 
 " Sir, 
 " Yours to honour and love you, 
 
 "JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " Whitehall, May 25th." 
 
 Postscript to the preceding letter. 
 " Sir, 
 
 " The affected disorderliness of this family as to the matters 
 of God's worship, (whence arises my despair of doing good here,) 
 I desire as much as is possible to conceal, and therefore resolve, 
 to others, to insist upon the necessitous condition of the place 
 I left as the reason of my removal, (if I do remove ;) to your- 
 self I state my case more fully, as expecting some direction 
 and help from you about it ; but I desire you to be very spar- 
 ing in making it known as 'tis here represented." * 
 
 The next letter is still on the same subject. It is evident 
 that his friend Baxter was opposed to his leaving Whitehall, 
 and had been endeavouring to dissuade him from that step. 
 
 " TO THE REV. RICHARD BAXTER. 
 
 " Dear and honoured Brother, 
 
 " "Pis my unhappiness that I cannot give so clear a state 
 of my case, as may make way for a grounded judgment. 'Tis 
 
 * The concluding paragraph of this letter would justly expose Howe to the 
 charge of insincerity, had not the " lamentable condition " of the people at Tor- 
 rington, been a real and very powerful reason of his leaving Whitehall. Provided 
 we state a real reason for our conduct, it is agreed by all casuists, that we are 
 not bound to state every reason.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 53 
 
 a hard matter to describe the state of the place I have left, (as 
 now it is.) I left it in a hopeful way of being happily sup- 
 plied ; but one party rejected the person I recommended, an- 
 other party (for I found the best there, at my first coming, two 
 parties, which were, through God's blessing on endeavours, 
 brought into one body, and are now breaking into two parties 
 again) have since rejected another ; who yet all profess a readi- 
 ness to meet in me as before. Also, (which I should not speak 
 did not the matter require it,) some overtures made by me 
 were the occasion of a settled meeting of the neighbouring 
 ministers of different persuasions, (kept up for some time, not 
 without hopes of good success,) which hath been discontinued 
 and forsaken by one party, and 'tis represented to me, by 
 some of them, as a matter of ill consequence to those parts. 
 Torrington was the place of meeting, and the only convenient 
 place for that purpose ; which, if not supplied by a person in- 
 clined to peace, (of which my frustrated endeavours have made 
 me despair,) will not draw in both parties thither. My ministry 
 there was not (thro' God's grace) altogether in vain ; and the 
 advantage I may hope from the increase of their affections by 
 absence, seems to promise it may be more prosperous, should 
 I return. 
 
 "Here, my influence is not like to be much, (as it is not to l>e 
 expected a raw young man should be 'much considerable among 
 grandees ;) my work little ; my success hitherto little ; my hopes, 
 considering the temper of this place, very small ; especially cou- 
 pling it with the temper of my spirit, which, did you know it, alone 
 would, I think, greatly alter your judgment of this case. I am 
 naturally bashful, pusillanimous, easily brow-beaten,* solicitous 
 about the fitness and unfitness of speech or silence in most cases, 
 afraid (especially having to do with those who are constant in the 
 ' arcana imperii ') of being accounted uncivil, etc. : and the dis- 
 temper being natural (most intrinsically) is less curable. You 
 can easily guess how little considerations are like to do in such a 
 case. I did not, I confess, know myself so well as, since my 
 coming up, occasion and reflection have taught me to do. I find 
 
 * Howe's estimate of himself is, of course, what might be expected from his 
 modesty ; but it is one, in which few who have studied his life or writings will 
 be disposed to acquiesce. When we consider the uncommon prudence with 
 which he conducted himself in this difficult situation, the supposition of his 
 being " a raw young man " is out of the question ; and when we reflect on the 
 signal courage and firmness which he manifested at the call of duty, (some 
 striking proofs of which will be given in a subsequent page,) the description of 
 his bashfulness and pusillanimity is perfectly ludicrous.
 
 54 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 now my "hopes of doing good, will be among people where I shall 
 not be so liable to be overawed. I might have known this sooner, 
 and have prevented the trouble I am now in. Though the case of 
 my coming up hither, and continuance, differ much, so as that I 
 can't condemn the former, yet I more incline to do that than justify 
 the latter. Your intimations (now renewed) of the danger of,* 
 etc., are sad; but what can I do for prevention? or (if I might 
 hope my persuasions would signify anything) what course should 
 I persuade to ? Besides, there are store of good men about 
 the city who have as free access, and probably more regard 
 than I. What I may do in befriending good causes, will be 
 according to my calling. 
 
 "I have devoted myself to serve God in the work of the 
 ministry, and how can I want the pleasure of hearing their 
 cryings and complaints, who have come to me under convic- 
 tion, etc. ? I shall beseech you to weigh my case over again. f 
 
 " Pardon this importune trouble from, 
 
 " Sir, 
 " Yours in affection and observance, 
 
 " JOHN HOWE. 
 " Whitehall, June 1, 58. 
 
 " For the Eev. Mr. Eichard Baxter, Minister of the Gospel 
 at Kidderminster, Worcestershire." 
 
 The next letter, which is dated May 8, 1658, is the last on 
 this subject. It appears that Howe stayed at Whitehall until 
 after the Protector's death, which took place in the following 
 September. This, together with other circumstances, to which 
 I shall presently advert, proves that some such arrangement 
 as that mentioned in the following letter had been approved 
 by Cromwell. On the deposition of Richard Cromwell, Howe 
 returned to his flock at Torrington. 
 
 * Alluding, I imagine, to the designs of the " infidels and Papists," mentioned 
 in a former letter. 
 
 t It is evident from this, as well as from some other passages of the letter, 
 that Baxter was extremely unwilh'ng that his friend should leave the Protector's 
 court. He probably felt that there was no one else who was likely to fill the 
 same arduous post, with an equal measure of integrity and discretion, or with 
 such a conscientious regard to the public good.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 55 
 
 "TO THE EEV. EICHAKD BAXTER. 
 
 " Reverend Sir, 
 
 " Since my last, something has come into my thoughts, 
 which may be a medium betwixt my deserting my present 
 station, etc. ; i.e. to retain a relation still to Torrington, (which 
 hitherto, for want of a successor, I could not divest myself of,) 
 and get leave to be with them a quarter of a year, or as much 
 time as I may be allowed in the year, procuring another who 
 shall enjoy the profits of the place, to be constantly resident.* 
 This, if it may be done, will be a double satisfaction to me. 
 1. That while I am with them, (as I shall much desire to be 
 sometimes,) it will give me the advantage of dealing with them 
 as their minister, which will both procure me more liberty in 
 my own spirit in my applications to them, when I shall not 
 fear to be looked upon as an encroacher, and an uninterested 
 person, and probably more regard from them.f 2. That by 
 this means a door will be kept open for my return to them, 
 if hereafter it should be more apparently my duty so to do ; 
 which will be a great relief to me against what may possibly 
 prove otherwise very afflictive, namely, the fear lest I should 
 have irrecoverably thrown away the best opportunity of doing 
 God service, that may ever be offered me while I live. My 
 only doubt is about the lawfulness of such a course ; namely, 
 of continuing related to a people with whom we can so little 
 
 * We may rest assured that it was only on such terms that a man like Howe 
 could ever have resorted to such a course. As it was, the latter part of this 
 letter shows, that he had doubts about its propriety, and he therefore requests 
 Baxter's judgment upon it. If all pluralists were of the same stamp, if they 
 were characterized by the same disinterestedness and benevolence of intention, 
 the church of Christ would have small quarrel with them. 
 
 As it appears that he alone could hold the people at Torrington together, and 
 as he could not at present reside with them, the course he proposed seemed to 
 be the only one open to him. It is, however, a striking proof, that general 
 principles are not always to be strained to their extreme consequences ; that in 
 the infinite complications of human affairs, such principles cannot be applied 
 with absolute precision ; and that if we will not consent to modify our theories 
 to meet peculiar cases, we shall be likely sometimes to lose the fairest opportu- 
 nities of doing good. And in fact, what party is it whose ecclesiastical system 
 does not exemplify, in its practical working, many deviations from the letter of 
 its principles ? 
 
 t This letter powerfully demonstrates the intense interest this faithful pastor 
 took in his flock at Torrington. Indeed, his feelings of attachment towards 
 them never seem to have suffered the slightest diminution ; witness the affect- 
 ing appeal which, after a lapse of nearly twenty years, he addressed to them 
 from Ireland, on the occasion of his publishing his treatise on " Delighting in 
 God."
 
 56 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 reside. I know not whether the not common occasion of my 
 absence may plead anything for it. I shall entreat your judg- 
 ment in this case, and that you will please to afford it speedily, 
 because I shall forbear till then to propound it to* etc. 
 "lam, Sir, 
 
 " Yours, much obliged, 
 
 " J. HOWE. 
 " Whitehall, June 3, 58. 
 
 " For the Rev. Mr. Eichard Baxter, Minister of the Gospel 
 at Kidderminster, Worcestershire." 
 
 The principal motives which induced Howe to accept the 
 situation at Whitehall have been already adverted to in the 
 course of the narrative, and are more fully disclosed in the 
 preceding letters. We cannot be surprised, that a man like 
 Howe, a man whose whole life was dedicated to the service of 
 religion, should think the situation Cromwell offered him f one 
 not to be at once refused. It was, as he himself declares, "a 
 very considerable work to which he was called." In such a 
 position, and with the opportunities which that position could 
 not fail to give him, he might reasonably hope, not only to do 
 good within the limits of the Protector's court and household, 
 but to exert a beneficial influence on the interests of religion 
 at large. And though those hopes were, as he himself sadly 
 admits, disappointed, the incidental opportunities of doing 
 good were so numerous, and he was disposed to make such 
 good use J of them, that Baxter, as we have seen, was altogether 
 averse to his quitting his post, even when Howe had so strongly 
 expressed his reluctance to continue in it. 
 
 * To the Protector. 
 
 t Or rather, the situation which Cromwell thrust upon him ; for, as we have 
 seen, he could scarcely be said to have any choice in the matter. 
 
 I Some instances of his kind offices on behalf of individuals of the opposite 
 party, will be mentioned in the course of the narrative. And who can tell how 
 many others were the fruit of that confidence with which the Protector never 
 ceased to honour him ? who can tell but that the same generous mediation which 
 induced Cromwell to act so noble a part to Dr. Ward, might also have prompted 
 him to some other of those truly splendid actions, which though they cannot 
 justify his usurpations, yet shed a redeeming lustre on his name ?
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 57 
 
 As he had been induced to accept the office only from the 
 purest motives, he immediately wished to abandon it, when he 
 found that the main objects he contemplated in accepting it 
 could not be realized ; when he discovered that he could not 
 " carry it," as a " minister of Christ," to such an extra- 
 ordinary "charge," and that he might as well preach in a 
 " market," or to the most tumultuous assembly, as to an 
 audience which " affected " such " a license " of opinion and 
 practice. 
 
 That he did not immediately resign, none, after reading the 
 preceding letters, can hesitate to ascribe to the advice of 
 Baxter. His friend rightly thought that the personal influ- 
 ence he could still exert with the Protector, was considerable, 
 and ought not to be lightly thrown away. That Howe re- 
 mained, in compliance with this friendly advice, is much to his 
 credit ; for a more difficult or irksome situation to one of his 
 character and habits can hardly be conceived. It has been 
 already observed, that almost under any circumstances Howe 
 would have preferred retirement to publicity ; studious solitude 
 to the pursuits of active life ; humble usefulness as a minister 
 of Christ, to the proudest honours that ever waited on success- 
 ful ambition. But the situation, in which he was now placed, 
 must have been distasteful in the last degree. Compelled to 
 live amidst those with whom he had no sympathy, to witness 
 exhibitions of fanaticism and extravagance, which he could not 
 control, how must he have sighed for the quiet of Great 
 Torrington ! 
 
 Still he was right in not hastily abandoning Whitehall. Hib 
 personal character stood high with all parties, but especially 
 with the Protector: he was sometimes able to mitigate the 
 evils he could not prevent, and to exert, in the cause of charity 
 and moderation, the influence which, had he abandoned his 
 station, might have been employed by others only to gratify 
 religious rancour or promote the objects of selfish rapacity. 
 
 " Never," says Calamy, " can I find him so much as charged, 
 even by those who have been most forward to inveigh against 
 a number of his contemporaries, with improving his interest 
 in those who then had the management of affairs in their hands,
 
 58 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 either to the enriching himself, or the doing ill offices to others, 
 though of known differing sentiments. He readily embraced 
 every occasion that offered, of serving the interest of religion 
 and learning, and opposing the errors and designs which at 
 that time threatened both." 
 
 These traits of character seem to have been properly appre- 
 ciated by his great patron, who on one occasion paid him the 
 following noble compliment : " You have obtained," said 
 Cromwell, " many favours for others ; I wonder when the time 
 is to come that you will solicit anything for yourself, or your 
 family." 
 
 Of the disinterestedness, integrity, and generosity, with 
 which he filled this difficult situation, the following may suffice 
 as examples. 
 
 Amongst many other Episcopalians whom he befriended in 
 distress was the celebrated Seth Ward, afterward Bishop of 
 Exeter, who always retained a grateful sense of Howe's kind- 
 ness. It appears that Dr. Ward, who had been sometime 
 Professor of Astronomy at Oxford, became a candidate for the 
 principalship of Jesus College in that University, on the resig- 
 nation of Dr. Michael Roberts. A gentleman of Exeter 
 College, Mr. Francis Howel, was another candidate. Dr. 
 Ward, it seems, had the suffrages of a majority of the Fellows 
 in his favour ; but, on the other hand, his opponent had ob- 
 tained from the Protector a positive promise of the appoint- 
 ment. Dr. Ward, ignorant of this, was anxious to secure the 
 same all-powerful interest. For this purpose he applied to 
 Howe, who, without promising much, promised to do all he 
 could, and readily procured him an audience. When Dr. 
 Ward had been introduced to the Protector, Howe proceeded 
 to speak, in terms of the strongest admiration, of his worth 
 and learning ; and intimated, that it would be no very credit- 
 able thing, if a man of such rare attainments, and who, more- 
 over, was supported by a majority of the Fellows, should fail 
 in obtaining the principalship. Cromwell answered, that Dr. 
 Roberts had resigned his office into his hands; that he had 
 been told that it was his right to fill up the vacancy; and 
 lastly, that as he had promised the situation to Mr. Howel, he
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 59 
 
 could not in honour retract. At the same time he took Howe 
 aside, and began to question him more closely about Dr. Ward. 
 Howe " assured him that it would be much for his honour " to 
 befriend the Doctor. Cromwell, turning to Dr. Ward, told 
 him, that he found " Mr. Howe to be very much his friend, 
 and was, on such recommendation, disposed to give him some 
 tokens of his regard." He then " pleasantly asked him, what 
 he thought the principalship of Jesus College might be worth ?" 
 The Doctor told him what it was generally computed to be 
 worth. Upon this, the Protector promised that he would allow 
 him an annual sum to that amount. 
 
 Of the estimation in which Howe was held by the Episco- 
 palians, some striking proofs were given at the time that ex- 
 traordinary conclave was sitting, commonly known by the name 
 of the "Triers." It was the duty of these men to ascertain 
 the qualifications of all candidates for the ministerial office : * 
 many of the Episcopalians, having no unreasonable apprehen- 
 sion of this ordeal, applied to Howe for advice. Amongst 
 others was the worthy humorist, Dr. Thomas Fuller. "You 
 may observe, Sir," said that facetious person, "that I am a 
 somewhat corpulent man, and I am to go through a very strait 
 passage : I beg you would be so good as to give me a shove, 
 and help me through." Howe willingly gave him his best 
 counsel. When he appeared before the examiners, and they 
 proposed the usual question, " Whether he had ever had any 
 experience of a work of grace on his heart ? " he answered, 
 that " he could appeal to the Searcher of hearts, that he made 
 a conscience of his very thoughts : " implying, that it was not 
 
 * It was the candid admission of Baxter, who, be it recollected, was by no 
 means favourable to the " Triers," who thought their tribunal constituted by no 
 just authority, and who refused to participate in their proceedings, that, on the 
 whole, they had discharged their duties with great impartiality and discretion, 
 and with signal benefit to the church and the nation. Still it is very possible, 
 notwithstanding the generally beneficial results of their labours, that many pious 
 and excellent men may have been much perplexed by the needless minuteness 
 of their inquiries. If not deeply versed in the abstruse controversies, and 
 thoroughly familiarized to the religious phraseology of the age, simple-minded 
 piety might be easily wrecked on some of the subtle interrogatories with which 
 Mr. Nye, and some of his colleagues, might attempt to elicit " those deeper dis- 
 coveries," to which reference is made in one of Howe's letters to Baxter.
 
 60 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 without the strictest strutiny into his motives that he had ven- 
 tured on the ministerial office. "With this answer/' says 
 Calamy, "they were satisfied, as indeed they might well 
 be." There can be little doubt that Howe suggested it. 
 While it was sufficient to answer the general purpose for 
 which the question was put, it was not so particular as to 
 involve any of those perplexing discussions which were the 
 delight of the men and of the age. If honest Thomas Fuller 
 had attempted a more specific answer, it is by no means 
 improbable that in spite of all his excellence, he would 
 not have satisfied the subtle and "distinguishing" spirit 
 which animated many of his examiners. He might, but for 
 Howe's timely "shove," have stuck in the dreaded passage 
 after all. 
 
 Of the conscientiousness and integrity, with which Howe 
 fulfilled his duties as Cromwell's domestic chaplain, an impres- 
 sive example was given in his sermon, " On a particular Faith 
 in Prayer." As many readers may not understand this 
 mysterious phrase, a word of explanation may be desirable. 
 It was a very prevalent opinion in Cromwell's court, and, as 
 will appear in the sequel, seems to have been entertained by 
 Cromwell himself, that whenever eminently religious persons 
 offered up their supplications for themselves or others, secret 
 intimations were conveyed to the mind, that the particular 
 blessings they implored would be certainly bestowed, and 
 even indications afforded of the particular way in which their 
 wishes would be accomplished. Howe himself confessed to 
 Calamy, in a private conversation on this subject, that the 
 prevalence of the notion at Whitehall, at the time he lived 
 there, was too notorious to be denied; that great pains 
 were taken to .cherish and diffuse it, and that he himself had 
 heard " a person of note " preach a sermon with the avowed 
 design of maintaining and defending it. To point out the 
 pernicious consequences of such an opinion would be super- 
 fluous ; of course there could be no lack of such intimations 
 in an age and court like those of Cromwell ; and all the 
 dangerous illusions which a fanatical imagination might in- 
 spire, and all the consequent horrors to which a fanatical zeal
 
 LIEE OP JOHN HOWE. 61 
 
 could prompt, might plead the sanction of an express revela- 
 tion. 
 
 Howe, regarding this notion with the abhorrence which it 
 must inspire in every man of sound judgment and sincere 
 piety, thought himself bound, when next called to preach 
 before Cromwell, to expose the fallacies on which it rested, 
 and the pernicious consequences to which it led. This accord- 
 ingly he did, doubtless to the no small surprise and chagrin 
 of his audience. During his discourse, Cromwell was observed 
 to pay marked attention; but, as his custom was when dis- 
 pleased, frequently knit his brows, and manifested other symp- 
 toms of uneasiness. Even the terrors of Cromwell's eye, 
 however, could not make Howe quail in the performance of an 
 undoubted duty; and he proceeded, in a strain of calm and 
 cogent reasoning, to fulfil his difficult but honourable task.* 
 When he had finished, a person of distinction came up, and 
 asked him " whether he knew what he had done ? " at the 
 same time expressing his apprehension that he had irretriev- 
 ably lost the Protector's favour. Howe coolly replied, " that 
 he had discharged what he considered a duty, and could trust 
 the issue with God." He told Calamy, "that he observed 
 that Cromwell was cooler in his carriage to him than before, 
 and sometimes seemed as if he would have spoken to him on 
 the subject, but that he never did." t 
 
 There are not many men who would have had the moral 
 courage requisite for the above task; fewer still who would 
 have accomplished it in such a manner, as, if not to convince, 
 to silence and abash the gainsayer ; while almost any one but 
 Howe would have drawn down upon himself the utmost indig- 
 nation of such an audience. Properly to administer reproof, 
 even in private, is difficult ; to expose public errors, and in a 
 public assembly, abundantly more so. To do this, when the 
 errors in question are cherished by the great and the powerful, 
 
 * For the outline of this sermon, which is all that Calamy could recover, see 
 Appendix No. III. 
 
 t " He added, that he had a great deal of satisfaction in what he did in this 
 case, both in the time of doing it, and ever afterwards, to the time of our con- 
 versing together upon this subject." Calamy, p. 23.
 
 62 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 and by those whose base interest it is to flatter their pride by- 
 echoing their sentiments, is more difficult still ; while the task, 
 already thus formidable, is rendered almost hopeless, when the 
 errors which call for rebuke, are, as in this case, the offspring 
 of the rankest fanaticism. As the propriety of administer- 
 ing reproof at all, presupposes that those who are the objects of 
 it, will admit at least the possibility of error, how slender is 
 the hope of success, when the feeble arguments of reason and 
 common sense may be met by an appeal to infallible inspira- 
 tion ! Yet almost hopeless as the task of Howe was, he did 
 not shrink from it, simply because it was enjoined by the 
 voice of duty. 
 
 It is wonderful that this bold step should not have been 
 attended with the total forfeiture of Cromwell's favour and 
 esteem. That this was not the case, is to be accounted for, 
 only by supposing that Howe's rare integrity was conjoined 
 with as rare discretion. To undertake such a task, with any 
 hope of success, it is not simply necessary to possess the 
 requisite boldness ; there must be proportionate prudence. So 
 perverse is human nature, that the very confidence which 
 conscious integrity inspires, will often give a man, in the per- 
 formance of a difficult duty, an arrogant and over-weening air, 
 which diminishes, and sometimes totally neutralizes, the just 
 influence of all that he says and does. In such duties as 
 Howe was, on this occasion, called to perform, men almost 
 always do too little or too much ; they want courage, or they 
 want discretion. 
 
 While Howe was Cromwell's chaplain, Calamy informs us 
 that he was often employed in important services, which re- 
 quired secrecy and despatch ; but he adds, " they were always 
 honourable." Indeed, we may be assured, that when Crom- 
 well knew the character of the man and he would not be 
 long in discovering it he would not propose to him any service 
 that was otherwise. Such is the value of a character for 
 integrity, when once established. Not only are temptations 
 resisted with less difficulty when they assail at all, but the 
 occasions of temptation become less frequent. So true, in this 
 respect, as well as in many others, is that sentiment of Simon-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 63 
 
 ides, as expounded in the lively comment of Socrates, " It is 
 not difficult to ~be, but to become, virtuous." * 
 
 I have said more than once, that the native tendencies of 
 Howe's mind would probably have induced him, under almost 
 any circumstances, to prefer a contemplative to an active life ; 
 yet, upon a review of his conduct during his residence at 
 Whitehall, it is obvious that his practical talents must have 
 been of no mean order. Great sagacity and prudence alone 
 could have enabled him, in a situation so difficult, not merely 
 to evade the censure, but to secure the admiration of all 
 parties. Incapable of artifice or disguise, and noted for in- 
 flexible rectitude of purpose, he yet managed to conciliate the 
 esteem of the most opposite factions : constantly teaching and 
 as constantly practising charity and moderation, he yet happily 
 escaped the hostility of the eager partisans, who were hunger- 
 ing and thirsting for the annihilation of every party but their 
 own : without the slightest sympathy with fanaticism, he 
 somehow disarmed the wrath and malice of the enthusiasts, 
 whose extravagancies and follies he rebuked, sometimes by his 
 discourse and always by his actions. To exist in the midst of 
 such a strife of tempestuous elements, without yielding to 
 them or being destroyed by them, is a mystery of circumspec- 
 tion not easily unravelled. In many respects, indeed, that 
 mystery would be equally difficult of solution, even if we 
 were to suppose that he was in the constant habit of com- 
 promising principle, and that his life was a series of unscru- 
 pulous adaptations of opinion to the company into which he 
 was thrown ; for hypocrisy so various and versatile, could not 
 long escape detection. The many and violent changes to 
 which, on such an hypothesis, he must have subjected himself, 
 would have confounded Proteus himself, since there is not a 
 party that does not venerate the name of Howe. But I need 
 not pursue this subject ; all the records of his life leave his 
 character altogether unimpeached. 
 
 Some might perhaps think that the supposition of disinte- 
 restedness and integrity is alone sufficient to solve the question. 
 
 * Plato. Protag.
 
 64 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Such a solution would be far from satisfactory. In general, 
 indeed, such qualities will eventually secure a man's reputa- 
 tion, but they will not ordinarily protect him from calumny or 
 malice during the actual discharge of difficult duties. On the 
 contrary, there are never wanting those whose malignity is 
 only inflamed by that goodness which they know not how to 
 emulate, and who consider excellence in others as a libel on 
 themselves. 
 
 The foregoing letters serve to show in a very striking and 
 affecting point of view, 'Howe's devoted character as a PASTOR. 
 It is evident that, to preach the gospel, and to train the 
 immortal spirits of men for heaven, were, in his estimation, 
 unspeakably the most honourable and delightful of all employ- 
 ments. In comparison with his office as minister to the 
 humble flock at Torrington, his chaplaincy at Whitehall 
 offering as it would, to any ambitious man of equal talents, 
 such tempting opportunities of promoting selfish interests 
 possessed no attractions. Nor, if we would do him full justice, 
 must we forget that, in those days, and in such a court as 
 Cromwell's, the situation which Howe held, was not such as 
 the name " chaplain " would ordinarily suggest. In that age 
 of religious enthusiasm, and in the peculiar position of public 
 affairs, almost all questions of state were strangely complicated 
 with those of religion. How many a fanatic, unconscious that 
 his ruling motive was ambition, and how many a hypocrite, 
 who knew it but too well, would have exulted to obtain 
 Howe's place in Oliver's confidence his intimate knowledge 
 of state intrigues, and his share in secret and important nego- 
 tiations. He would have known how to turn to his own 
 selfish advantage, that power which was never employed by 
 Howe, except for the benefit of others, and which he would, 
 at any time, have been heartily glad to relinquish. 
 
 During the time Howe was in Cromwell's household, he 
 appears to have officiated frequently, if not regularly, at St. 
 Margaret's Church, Westminster. Wood says he was Lec- 
 turer there. 
 
 He appears also to have preached once before Parliament, 
 though on what occasion is not certainly known. The sermon,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 65 
 
 as is shown by an advertisement of 1659, was entitled, " Man's 
 Duty in Magnifying God's Work." I presume it was pub- 
 lished on occasion of one or other of those brilliant successes, 
 which attended the arms of England abroad, during the latter 
 period of the protectorate. In these advertisements he is 
 described as " Preacher at Westminster." * 
 
 * This was the earliest of Howe's productions, and as such, if for no other 
 reason, would have been an object of curious interest. One would have liked, 
 moreover, to see how such a man as Howe acquitted himself on such an occa- 
 sion. For this sermon, however, I have, searched in vain. I have met with no 
 traces of it in any public or private collections to which I have been able to 
 obtain access. Amongst other places, I have searched the British Museum, 
 and Dr. Williams' library, (where, if anywhere, it might be expected to be 
 found ;) as also the catalogues of the Bodleian, Sion College, and Lambeth 
 libraries. Whether it was advertised, but never published ; or, if published at 
 all, issued to such a limited extent, that not a single copy has survived the 
 wastes of accident and time, I cannot pretend to decide.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FEOM 1658 TO 1668. 
 
 DEATH OF CROMWELL HOWE STILL BEMAINS AT WHITEHALL CHARACTER OP RICHARD 
 
 CROMWELL HIS DEPOSITION LETTER OF HOWE TO BAXTER ON THAT EVENT 
 
 HOWE RETURNS TO TORRINGTON IS INFORMED AGAINST DEFENDS HIMSELF SUC- 
 CESSFULLY IS EJECTED BY THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY HOWE'S INTERVIEW WITH 
 
 DR. WILKINS REFLECTIONS A CITATION AGAINST HIM HIS INTERVIEW WITH 
 
 BISHOP WARD OXFORD OATH HOWE'S CONDUCT ON THAT OCCASION LETTER TO 
 
 HIS BROTHER-IN-LAW REFLECTIONS ON PROTESTANT PERSECUTION PUBLISHES 
 
 " THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS." 
 
 1TJHEN Cromwell died,* Howe did not, as might have 
 * T been expected from the preceding letters, relinquish his 
 situation at Whitehall. It is by no means improbable that, in 
 addition to those general reasons, which had already induced 
 him to sacrifice his own inclination to what his friend Baxter 
 represented as a duty, the personal character of the new Pro- 
 tector had a considerable share in reconciling him to his office. 
 It is certain, at all events, that the principal reason for re- 
 linquishing that office, must have ceased with the life of 
 Oliver. To Richard Cromwell, he could have had no personal 
 objections ; on the contrary, he uniformly expressed the highest 
 opinion of his worth and integrity. 
 
 His situation was rendered still more tolerable, from his 
 having effected those arrangements with regard to Torrington, 
 to which a reference has been already made. This is con- 
 firmed by a letter to Baxter, inserted in this chapter. From 
 that letter, it appears, that the first visit which he paid to 
 Torrington, in consequence of those arrangements, was almost 
 immediately after the Protector's death. He remained in the 
 
 * September 3, 1658.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 67 
 
 west for some months, and consequently could have resumed 
 his duties at Whitehall only a very short time before Richard's 
 deposition.* 
 
 Richard Cromwell was utterly incapable of governing that 
 distracted empire, which tasked to the full even the sagacious 
 and powerful intellect of his father. His deposition, therefore, 
 soon became inevitable. He was not destitute of abilities, but 
 they were such as fitted him rather for private than for public 
 life ; least of all for wielding such a sceptre as his predecessor 
 had bequeathed him. Nor did he want merely the energy 
 and ambition of the old Protector : he could not employ 
 what the situation would have required the exertion of arbi- 
 trary power or an unscrupulous policy. He was a man, not 
 indeed of genius, but of honour and humanity ; one of the few, 
 who would have preferred the humblest obscurity to the most 
 splendid diadem, if power was to be purchased or retained by 
 a course of violence or treachery. 
 
 Immediately after Richard Cromwell's deposition, Howe, at 
 the request of a relative, addressed the subjoined letter to 
 Baxter, in explanation of the recent changes. It is now pub- 
 lished for the first time, and will be read, I feel confident, with 
 considerable interest. 
 
 In this letter the conduct of Richard Cromwell, which all 
 historians admit to have indicated as much of disinterestedness 
 and patriotism as it betrayed of timidity and irresolution, is 
 represented by Howe and no man was more likely to be 
 acquainted with the truth than himself in a light still more 
 favourable, than that in which it has been generally regarded. 
 It appears, that even that fatal dissolution of the Parliament, 
 which was the death-warrant of his power, was a deliberate 
 sacrifice of his own interests to patriotism. He saw, from the 
 first, the full effects of this measure, but, as it was inevitable, 
 resolved to venture upon it himself, rather than suffer it to be 
 
 * In a little more than three weeks after Cromwell's death, the congrega- 
 tional brethren met at the Savoy, (Sept. 29,) and drew up that " confession of 
 faith," etc., still known by the name of the " Savoy Confession." Howe, it 
 appears, was present at their deliberations. It was, in all probability, within a 
 very few days after this, that he departed on his visit to Torrington.
 
 68 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 taken, with more hazard to the country, by others. The letter 
 also shows, that both Richard and his father, the one from 
 principle, the other in obedience to a sagacious policy, had 
 long desired the diminution of the military power, and the 
 " civil settlement " of the nation. Cromwell, at the close of 
 life, had learned, for good reasons, to dread the predominate 
 influence of that very army, which, at an earlier period, had 
 been the great instrument of his successful ambition. In this 
 instance, as in many others, it was found more easy to set the 
 elements of political power at liberty, than to reclaim or con- 
 trol them. 
 
 "TO THE EEV. EICHAED BAXTER. 
 
 "Rev. and dew Brother, 
 
 " Since my return from the West, (where I suppose you 
 may have heard I spent some months of late,*) I have often 
 been putting pen to paper to write to you ; but have deferred, 
 being still held in expectation of some further issue, that I 
 might know what to write that might be a ground of some 
 action or treaty for the church's good. Such expectations are 
 now at an end. I know not to what purpose it will now be to 
 fill a letter with complaints of man's iniquity, and our present 
 and approaching miseries. My kinsman, Mr. Upton (now in 
 town), showed me a letter of yours, wherein you express your 
 wonder at our late turns, as well you may. He hath made it 
 my task to give what account I can. It cannot be new to you 
 that the council in the old Protector's time was divided into 
 two parties ; the one was for a settlement on such terms as 
 might please the nation, as he himself also was ; those, except 
 one of late, had no present relation to the army ; the other, 
 who were (the chief of them) army men, were not much pleased 
 with, nor did study any such thing ; but thought it their duty, 
 in order to the safety of religion and liberty of conscience, to 
 keep up the power of the army as much as they could, and 
 thereby to curb and repress the spirit of the nation, as they use 
 
 * This letter is dated May 21, that is (evidently) of the year 1659, imme- 
 diately after Eichard Cromwell's deposition. Soon after the death of Oliver, 
 Howe, as already mentioned, had paid a visit to Torrington, where he remained 
 till the spring of the following year. He had now, it would appear, returned to 
 London, where, it is plain, this letter was written. He could not, therefore, 
 have officiated at Whitehall more than a month or two, during the short period 
 of the younger Cromwell's protectorate.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 69 
 
 to phrase it. The young Protector following (in this) his 
 father's steps, I mean in the study and endeavour of a civil 
 settlement, whereby a just provision might be made also for 
 religious liberty by a law, without having the nation under a 
 force, and that things might run in their natural channel is 
 looked upon with a jealous eye by the military part of the 
 council j lest he should mingle interests with the nation, and 
 master theirs, and so the army, wherein their places of power 
 and profit lay, by degrees become insignificant. To obviate 
 this, after his entrance into the government, they attempt to 
 vote the army independent of him, etc. A parliament being 
 called, they find his interests to be prevailing there against the 
 Commonwealth's-men, (as they are called ;) so that the other 
 house * is owned and agreed to be transacted with. They find 
 that this other house will be no balance to the Commons, as 
 being much of their temper ; for though it be true the old 
 Protector called several swordsmen into that house to please 
 the army, yet he wisely contrived it, that they should not be 
 so many as to hurt the nation ; the judges and several gentle- 
 men of the country, and quite of another temper, being the 
 major part ; and easily perceive that whatever shall be done 
 by the Commons, in order to the restraining of religious 
 liberty,f and the subjugating of the army to the civil govern- 
 ment, is likely to meet with no great opposition in the other 
 house. Therefore they (the army) think it necessary to have 
 the Parliament gospelled or dissolved; and because they can- 
 not procure this by persuasion, they embody and resolve upon 
 force ; which the Protector perceiving, and understanding, if 
 the work must be done by them, they intended only gospelling, 
 and to leave a remnant that should do their work, and put a 
 pretext of legality upon whatever they should have a mind to ; 
 for prevention of this, choosing rather to dissolve them, not 
 dreaming, as one would think no man could, of such a thing 
 as this rag of , etc. This action of the army, which pro- 
 cured the Parliament's dissolution, occasioned a mighty acces- 
 sion and confluence to them of wild-headed persons of all sorts, 
 
 * The House of Lords ; to which that part of the Council, which favoured 
 the ascendency of the army, were willing to appeal, when they found the 
 Commons too strong for them. 
 
 t In the army, the doctrine of religious liberty has been employed, to justify 
 every species of extravagance. With whatever real fears for " religious liberty," 
 some few of the " army-men " may have regarded " a civil settlement," it is 
 evident, as Howe shows in the sequel of this letter, that the most selfish ambi- 
 tion was the prime motive of all their proceedings.
 
 70 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 whom they refuse not, as fearing they might have need of 
 them : these infuse into the inferior officers a disaffection to 
 government by a single person ; * the stream runs so strong 
 this way, that the chief officers cannot withstand it ; and they 
 endeavour faintly enough, some of them at least ; hence rather 
 than undertake the modelling of a new government, they think 
 it advisable rather to work the nation with the price of the 
 
 " Sir, such persons as are now at the head of affairs, will 
 blast religion,f if God prevent not. The design you writ me 
 of, some time since, to introduce Infidelity or Popery, they 
 have opportunity enough to effect. I know some leading men 
 are not Christians. Religion is lost out of England, farther than 
 as it can creep into corners. Those in power who are friends 
 to it, will no more suspect these persons, than their ownselves. 
 I am returning to my old station, being now at liberty beyond 
 dispute. 
 
 "lam, 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 ' ' Your much obliged, 
 " May '21." " JOHN HOWE. 
 
 No sooner was Howe at liberty, than he availed himself of 
 the opportunity of resuming his labours amongst his beloved 
 people at Great Torrington. He had been reluctantly sepa- 
 rated from them, and he now joyfully returned. 
 
 He returned unchanged. His spirituality and simplicity of 
 mind had not been impaired, or even touched, by the secular 
 spirit or the subtle temptations of the scenes in which he had 
 lately moved. Ambitious only of doing good, he was still as 
 
 * That is, they excite clamour for their long-cherished scheme of a pure 
 republic. 
 
 t This letter was written during that unsettled year which intervened 
 between Eichard Cromwell's resignation and the restoration of the King. The 
 " army-men," who had so successfully conspired the downfall of the young 
 Protector, were now at the " head of affairs." They pretended to be anxious to 
 govern by a parliament, (without a Protector or a House of Peers,) which should 
 be called " Keeper of the liberty of England." But, as Howe truly says in this 
 letter, it was to be a parliament meanly and hopelessly subservient to their 
 designs ; and on the first symptom of independence, they were contemptuously 
 dismissed. Sovereign power was then openly assumed by the small junta, who 
 had already really possessed it ever since Oliver's death, under the name of the 
 " Council of Officers. "
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 71 
 
 firmly convinced as ever, that the humble office of the Christian 
 minister is the most illustrious which can be coveted by man. 
 
 But he was not long to enjoy unmolested the tranquillity and 
 retirement for which he had pined. That spirit of persecution, 
 which more fully disclosed its malignity in the Act of Uni- 
 formity, began to manifest itself in acts of petty malice, almost 
 immediately after the Restoration. Such was the intoxication 
 of delight with which the whole nation greeted the King's 
 return, that even common sobriety of mind was almost enough 
 to subject a man to the charge of disaffection. It can hardly 
 be a matter of surprise, therefore, that those who had in any 
 way been connected with CromwelPs government, should 
 become the special objects of suspicion ; especially, if they were 
 ministers. In many congregations, the vilest informers lay in 
 ambush, waiting for some incautious or ambiguous expression, 
 which they might turn to the speaker's disadvantage. Even 
 John Howe did not altogether escape their calumnies. At the 
 close of the year 1660, (about eighteen months after his return 
 to Torrington, (two men, named John Evans and William 
 Morgan, charged him with having uttered seditious and even 
 treasonable matter in two sermons, preached from Gal. v. 1, 
 7, 8.* The information was laid before the Mayor, a Mr. 
 Wellington, who bound Howe, and several others on his behalf, 
 to appear at the next sessions. 
 
 This charge against a man like Howe, whose characteristic 
 prudence and quiet spirit afforded a double security for his 
 innocence, was to the last degree ridiculous ; and it might be 
 predicted in what way it would terminate. 
 
 Before the sessions came on, some of the Deputy Lieutenants 
 of the County, " not willing/' according to Calamy, " that the 
 magistrates of the several corporations should be too powerful," 
 informed the Mayor, " that they could not be present at the 
 
 * The sermons were preached on September 30th, and October 14th, 1660. 
 The words were, " Be not deceived ; God is not mocked : for what a man 
 soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to the flesh, shall of the 
 flesh reap corruption : but he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap 
 life everlasting." It would have required more than ordinary ingenuity, or a 
 special genius for rambling beyond the limits of the subject, to preach sedition 
 and treason from such words as these.
 
 72 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Sessions, but desired to hear the matter at some other time, 
 and appointed a day for that purpose/' In this arrangement 
 the Mayor acquiesced. 
 
 When the affair came on, Howe demanded the benefit of 
 the statute,* " to purge himself by more evidence than that 
 of the informers." The Mayor accordingly administered oath 
 to one and twenty witnesses, " judicious men," and " enjoined 
 them, on his Majesty's behalf, to declare the truth of the 
 matter." Their testimony was unanimous in Howe's favour, 
 and he was accordingly discharged. 
 
 But the affair did not rest here. The above transaction took 
 place November the 14th. On the 24th of that month, one of 
 the constables summoned the Mayor to appear before the 
 Deputy Lieutenants, by a warrant dated exactly ten days back. 
 To the warrant were attached five signatures ; those of four 
 gentlemen who had been at Torrington on the day of Howe's 
 examination, and that of the Sheriff, then at a considerable 
 distance. Not knowing by whom the warrant had been made 
 out, the Mayor wrote to the Sheriff to know the truth ; at the 
 same time declaring, that if his appearance was insisted on, he 
 would prepare for it, "as far as would consist with his office 
 and place ; " an expression which would tend to prove the 
 truth of Calamy's representation, as to the existence of some 
 petty jealousies between the Corporation Magistrates and the 
 Deputy Lieutenants. 
 
 As the messenger did not return soon enough, (there being 
 only an interval of three days between serving the warrant and 
 the time fixed for his appearance,) the Mayor sent another 
 letter to the Deputy Lieutenants. They summarily decided 
 the matter by sending a party of horse to bring him to Exeter. 
 Having told him he had acted unwarrantably in the case of 
 Howe, they committed him to the Marshalsea ; compelled him 
 to pay three pounds for fees ; and bound him over to appear at 
 the next assizes. When the assizes came on, the charge against 
 Howe was argued at large before the Judge, who, having 
 heard the short-hand notes taken on the former occasion, said, 
 
 * I. of Edward VI. and I. of Elizabeth.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 73 
 
 "the charge was wh9lly founded on a mistake, and cleared 
 him." Whether the Deputy Lieutenants acted in this extra- 
 ordinary manner merely to humble " a Magistrate of the Cor- 
 poration," or, which is not improbable, with the hope of proving 
 Howe guilty, or from both these motives, cannot be ascertained. 
 " One of the accusers," says Calamy, " soon left the town, and 
 was seen no more ; and the other cut his own throat, and was 
 buried in the cross-road." 
 
 But the spirit of persecution did not long content itself with 
 such petty exhibitions of spite as these. Such methods were 
 always tardy, and at best uncertain ; the charges, moreover, 
 were limited to political disaffection, were generally difficult of 
 proof, and, as in the present instance, often ended in the dis- 
 comfiture of the accusers. 
 
 They were speedily abandoned, therefore, for a more com- 
 prehensive scheme of persecution; a scheme by which not 
 only those who were supposed to be disaffected to the govern- 
 ment, but those who might find it impossible to comply with 
 the requirements of the most rigid ecclesiastical uniformity, 
 would be infallibly ejected from the church; or rather be com- 
 pelled, unless they could first silence their consciences, to eject 
 themselves. This object was effected by the Act of Uniformity ; 
 which passed both Houses of Parliament, (though by a very 
 small majority in the House of Commons,) in May, 1662, and 
 most appropriately took effect on Bartholomew-day, August 
 24th, of the same year. 
 
 An attempt has sometimes been made to defend this oppres- 
 sive act, by representing it as merely a righteous retribution 
 for the severities practised on the Episcopalian clergy by the 
 Presbyterians. To those, who undertake to justify those 
 severities, if, indeed, in this day there are any such persons 
 to be found, such an argument may, for aught I know, be 
 conclusive. To those who, with the present writer, disdain to 
 be the apologists of the excesses of any party, and who refuse 
 to admit recrimination to be argument, such considerations 
 are of no force whatever. Tyranny and oppression will never 
 want an adequate excuse, if precedent can furnish it. 
 
 When shall we cease to act in this blind spirit of partisan-
 
 *4 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 ship, and no longer absurdly burden ourselves with the defence 
 of the crimes and follies of our forefathers ? When shall we 
 learn to call injustice and wrong by their right names, by 
 whatsoever party they may be committed ? 
 
 But though it is not for me to decide on the point of prece- 
 dence in cruelty between the Episcopalians and Presbyterians, 
 or to determine whether the pages of Walker or of Calamy 
 authentically record the largest portion of human suffering, it 
 can hardly be denied, that several circumstances stamp on the 
 Act of Uniformity a peculiar character of bigotry and folly. 
 It was passed at a comparatively late period ; when history had 
 already recorded some of her most impressive lessons on the 
 wickedness and inutility of persecution ; when the principles 
 of toleration were, in some measure, understood ; and, what is 
 still more important, had been to a considerable extent acted 
 on. Many of the points to which assent and consent were so 
 rigidly demanded, were acknowledged by the imposers to be 
 in themselves indifferent. It did not come into operation 
 gradually, but at once, leaving its victims no time to seek 
 shelter from the storm ; with such absurd and indecent haste, 
 indeed, that multitudes could not have had time even to read, 
 much less calmly investigate, the matters to which their solemn 
 assent was demanded.* And lastly, the execution of the law 
 was timed with such ingenious malice, as to deprive the un- 
 happy men who found compliance with it impossible, of a 
 whole year's income ; thus in very many cases, not only secur- 
 ing their expulsion from the church, but involving them in 
 absolute beggary. This circumstance alone would prove, that 
 the gratification of party feeling, not a conscientious regard 
 for the welfare of the church, was uppermost in the minds of 
 the framers of the Act. Had the latter been their motive, 
 they would have commiserated the sufferings which they er- 
 roneously thought themselves compelled to inflict, and would 
 have earnestly sought every expedient of diminishing and 
 alleviating them. 
 
 Happily, in our day, there is something approaching unani- 
 
 * Locke's Works, vol. x. p. 203, 204.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 75 
 
 mity in the view generally taken of the spirit which framed 
 and enforced the Act of Uniformity. " It is a passage of 
 history/' says the writer of a candid review of the first edition 
 of the present work, inserted in a high-church organ, " it is 
 a passage of history, we must honestly confess, which we love 
 not to dwell upon ; " he truly adds, " such times can never 
 return." The churchman who can conscientiously subscribe, 
 feels the impolicy of that rigorous demand of conformity in 
 things admitted to be " indifferent," by which so many were 
 prevented from subscribing, and are still prevented; and if 
 the thing were to be done over again, he would, in general, 
 plead strongly for a relaxation of the rigidity and minute ex- 
 actions of the Act, even though he needed it not himself. Such, 
 in truth, is the very generally prevailing feeling of the present 
 day. The contemplation of the history of that period excites 
 the less acrimony, that it is felt whether the change be right 
 or wrong that the whole position of the controversy between 
 the churchman and the nonconformist has shifted its ground 
 since that day. The argument for and against State-establish- 
 ments, an argument we are happily exempt from discussing 
 here, was, in the days of Howe, utterly unknown. It is but 
 candid to say, that probably scarcely one (if one) of the two 
 thousand ejected ministers would have scrupled to officiate in 
 the Establishment as such, supposing some indulgence and 
 latitude in minor matters had been extended to them : on the 
 other hand, it is equally true, that multitudes of the noncon- 
 formists of our day would never have laid any stress upon some 
 of the scruples which so needlessly troubled the consciences of 
 our forefathers. Still, the subject is a very instructive one ; it 
 shows the danger and folly of multiplying beyond confessed 
 necessity the terms of subscription or communion ; of forgetting 
 that nothing ought absolutely to bar the way into any church, 
 but what will, in the estimate of its founders and members, bar 
 the way to heaven also. 
 
 The decision of Howe is well known. With all his catholicity 
 of spirit and his magnanimous disregard of minor differences ; 
 with all his disposition even to forget many of those differ- 
 ences for the sake of unity and peace, and to comply with the
 
 76 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 practices of various parties, (so long as it was mutually ad- 
 mitted, that such compliance was a compliance of charity only,) 
 he could not prevail on himself to conform, though never ques- 
 tioning that multitudes honestly could. He felt that it was 
 one thing to admit that certain propositions might be embraced 
 or rejected according to each man's opinion respecting them, 
 and another solemnly to subscribe that he believed that to be 
 true, (however trivial in itself,) which he nevertheless believed 
 to be false; one thing to declare a certain practice of no 
 importance, and another to renounce that liberty of adopting 
 it or not, which ought to be the very consequence of its alleged 
 insignificance. 
 
 It is evident, indeed, from a conversation which Howe held 
 with his liberal-minded and amiable friend, Dr. Wilkins, and 
 which will be presently narrated, that even apart from con- 
 scientious scruples with respect to some of the terms of the 
 Act of Uniformity, his catholicity of temper and liberality of 
 opinion (which, at first sight, would appear to render conformity 
 so easy) were amongst the very things which made him hesi- 
 tate. It was precisely because he was of so catholic a spirit, 
 that he objected to a system of ecclesiastical policy built on 
 an unnecessarily restricted basis ; it was because he was so 
 superior to minor differences, that he condemned the prejudices 
 which magnified their importance; it was because he really 
 believed many opinions and practices indifferent in themselves, 
 that he could not bear to see them treated as though they were 
 not indifferent ; it was because he was so anxious for the com- 
 munion of all true Christians, of whatsoever party, that he 
 mourned to see the limits of church fellowship determined, not 
 by broad, well-defined lines which should separate vital truth 
 from destructive error, but in effect by the least significant 
 matters the Act of Uniformity enjoined. We say the least 
 significant, because though it is most true that the Act of 
 Uniformity enjoined many things of grave importance; still, 
 as ejectment was the consequence of anything short of " un- 
 feigned assent and consent to the whole Book of Common 
 Prayer/ 5 etc., and as the most harmless scruple was as fatal as 
 the most weighty objection, it is evident that the bigoted and
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 77 
 
 exclusive spirit of the Act is to be determined by the most 
 insignificant of the matters which it rendered imperative. If a 
 man were willing to comply with everything except the use of 
 the cross in baptism, his ejectment was still inevitable. 
 
 On these grounds, therefore, it is not improbable, that even 
 if the Act of Uniformity had demanded subscription to no 
 proposition which he did not believe true, and compliance with 
 no practice at which he would have scrupled, he would still 
 have hesitated to conform. 
 
 On the day on which the Act took effect, Howe preached 
 two pathetic farewell sermons, at which, says Calamy, his 
 audience "were all in tears/' Having told his audience that 
 " he had consulted his conscience, and could not be satisfied 
 with the terms of conformity fixed by law," he proceeded to give 
 an account of the principal reasons of his refusal to subscribe. 
 
 Shortly after his ejectment, occurred the conversation to 
 which I have already adverted, between Howe and Dr. Wilkins, 
 afterwards Bishop of Chester. This excellent man still con- 
 tinued to be a friend of Howe, whose ejectment, indeed, made 
 no difference whatever in his private intimacies. Amongst 
 other things, the Doctor said, that the "Act of Uniformity 
 had had such consequences as a little surprised him ; in that 
 while some, that he should have thought much too stiff and 
 rigid ever to have fallen in with the establishment, had com- 
 plied and conformed ; others, that he thought had a sufficient 
 latitude to have conformed, had stood out, and continued non- 
 conformists." He then hinted to Howe, that " he took him 
 for one of the latter sort, and should be glad to know the 
 reasons of his conduct." Howe at once declared, "that he 
 had weighed that matter with all the impartiality he was able ; 
 that he had not so slender a concern for his own usefulness 
 and comfort, as not to have been willing and desirous to have 
 been under the Establishment, could he but have compassed it 
 with satisfaction to his conscience ; that to give a particular 
 account of all the reasons of his conduct, (which he was free 
 to do without any reserve, when a convenient opportunity 
 offered,) would take up much more time than they had to 
 spend together; that so many things were necessarily to be
 
 
 8 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 touched upon in a discourse on that subject, that it was not 
 possible for it to be crowded into a transient conversation; 
 and therefore he should reserve it to a season when, having 
 more time, he might have more scope. But one thing he could 
 tell him with assurance, that that latitude of his, which he 
 (Dr. W.) was pleased to take notice of, was so far from induc- 
 ing him to conformity, that it was the very thing that made 
 and kept him a nonconformist." The Doctor then asked him, 
 whether it was the discipline of the church to which he chiefly 
 objected. Howe replied, " that he could not by any means be 
 fond of a church, that in reality had no discipline at all, and 
 that he thought that a very considerable objection against the 
 establishment." The Doctor then said, that though he was 
 sensible there was no time for lengthened discourse on the 
 subject, he should be glad of some general mention of his 
 principal objections. 
 
 On this Howe intimated, " that he could not recognise, in 
 the present constitution, those noble and generous principles of 
 communion, which he thought must, sooner or later, characterize 
 every Church of Christ ; that consequently, when that flourish- 
 ing state of religion should arrive, which he thought he had 
 sufficient warrant from the Word of God to expect, a constitu- 
 tion which rested on such an exclusive basis must fall : that, 
 believing this to be the case, he was no more willing to exercise 
 his ministry under such a system, than he would be to dwell 
 in a house built on an insecure foundation." * 
 
 * Of Dr. Wilkins, Calamy has preserved the following amusing anecdote : 
 " This Dr. Wilkins was ever a great enemy to rigour and severity. When lie 
 was made a Bishop by King Charles II., (which was not compassed without con- 
 siderable difficulty,) I have been credibly informed, he waited on the famous 
 Dr. Cosins, Bishop of Durham, among other spiritual lords, and desired his 
 company at his consecration dinner. Upon this occasion Bishop Cosins entered 
 into a free discourse with him, about moderation on the one hand, and a vigorous 
 supporting the ecclesiastical constitution on the other. Bishop Wilkins frankly 
 told his lordship, that for his part, it was his apprehension, that he who was by 
 many (with ill nature enough) reflected on for his moderation, was in reality a 
 better friend to the church than his lordship, who was for rigorously supporting 
 the constitution. Bishop Cosins seeming surprised, Bishop Wilkins added this 
 as the reason of his assertion : For while you, my lord, said he, are for setting 
 the top on the piqued end downwards, you won't be able to keep it up any 
 longer than you continue whipping and scourging ; whereas I, says he, am for 
 setting the broad end downward, and so it will stand of itself. 'Tis a pity this 
 good Bishop died so soon as 1672, and did not live till the revolution in 1688."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 79 
 
 The surprise of this estimable prelate, at finding that a man 
 of Howe's latitude and catholicity should have scrupled at the 
 terms of conformity, has probably been felt by many others. 
 Yet to dismiss for a moment the fact, already insisted on, that 
 it was this very " latitude and catholicity/' which, on general 
 grounds, made Howe reluctant, what can be more obvious, 
 than that the most magnanimous contempt for petty scruples, 
 and the utmost liberality of temper, could not preserve the con- 
 scientious man from ejection, if he really did not concur in pro- 
 positions (let the subject-matter of those propositions be ever 
 so insignificant) to which " an unfeigned assent" is demanded ? 
 To lay little stress on things of comparatively little importance, 
 is the mark of an enlarged mind ; but to " declare " a solemn 
 " assent/' and to back that assent by an equivalent subscription, 
 to propositions, which, whether in themselves important or 
 not, we believe to be false, would be the grossest violation of 
 the law of conscience. 
 
 Thus the apparent paradox which perplexed the worthy 
 Bishop is susceptible of a very easy solution. Many of the 
 most pertinacious and quarrelsome might readily conform, if 
 they possessed a pliable conscience ; and many of the most 
 liberal-minded would infallibly be ejected, if they possessed a 
 scrupulous one. There are many things enjoined in the Book 
 of Common Prayer, for example, which a man might think of 
 little moment, and the consequence of such latitude of opinion 
 would be, that he would allow every one to form his own 
 judgment of them ; but it by no means follows, that he could 
 solemnly declare and subscribe "an unfeigned assent" to them. 
 
 It is well known, that the ejected ministers justified their 
 nonconformity on widely different grounds; the obstacles 
 which appeared insurmountable to one, occasioned no difficulty 
 at all to another ; and, as might be expected from their diver- 
 sities of intellect and education, of habit and prejudice, the 
 reasons they alleged for their conduct varied in force and im- 
 portance, from scruples* the most narrow-minded and child- 
 
 * It is never to be forgotten, however, in treating this subject, that even such 
 scruples, if really conscientious, deserve compassion rather than ridicule ; or at
 
 80 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 ish, to objections well worthy of the most candid and serious 
 consideration. The points on which the comprehensive mind 
 of Howe principally fastened, have been already mentioned. 
 It would have been interesting to possess a full account of his 
 objections. Unfortunately, of the two sermons preached on 
 the day of his ejectment, not a syllable remains ; but, from his 
 still extant writings, it is clear what they chiefly were. 
 
 It has been sometimes represented, that the plea of con- 
 science in the case of the ejected ministers was absurd and 
 ridiculous, inasmuch as the very things at which conscience 
 hesitated, were " indifferent " or " unimportant." But, sup- 
 posing this true, could this relieve in the slightest degree the 
 difficulties of those, who, like Howe, did not believe all the 
 points on which they hesitated " indifferent " or " unimpor- 
 tant ; " or prove that any other course was open to them, than 
 that which they actually took ? Let us just for a moment, 
 and for the sake of argument, suppose them so : are those 
 who so frequently urge this view of the case, prepared to 
 affirm, and unless they go this length, their reasoning is 
 altogether illogical, that all conscientious objections, respect- 
 ing matters which others pronounce indifferent for of course, 
 by supposition, the parties themselves do not think them so 
 are at once to be abandoned ? Suppose, for example, an edict 
 had been issued in the early ages of the Church, that no Chris- 
 tian should henceforth scruple to eat meat offered to idols 
 which the Apostle Paul declares indifferent enough ought the 
 scruples of those who still conscientiously demurred, to be at 
 once renounced? The Apostle has satisfactorily settled the 
 question by saying, in accordance with the dictates of nature 
 and of common sense, as well as the conclusions of all the 
 soundest moralists, that to him who thinks it sinful, it is sin. 
 A really conscientious objection, though it should be about the 
 most insignificant thing that ever divided the opinions of man- 
 kind, cannot be dismissed in this summary way. We may pity 
 the man's fond prejudices we may, if we will, laugh at his 
 
 least, that if the scrupulosity, which transforms evident trifles into matters of 
 importance, be ridiculous at all, the pertinacity which makes compliance neces- 
 sary, in matters so trifling, cannot be less so.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 81 
 
 imbecility ; but, while the objection still retains its force, he 
 has only one path of conduct honourably open to him. 
 
 If it be replied, it is not because the men were conscientious, 
 but because, out of a factious spirit, they pretended to be so 
 when they were not, that is another thing. But none who 
 have charity will accuse them of this, unless they can claim to 
 be " discerners of spirits." Meantime, if it were true, we must 
 wonder at the pertinacious folly of the accused, who could em- 
 brace poverty, degradation, and ruin, for no advantage what- 
 ever ! Even if we could imagine some few to have been idiots 
 enough to act thus ; still, to suppose that the great bulk of the 
 ejected ministers were not impelled by a sense of duty which, 
 even to preserve their dearest interests, they dared not disre- 
 gard, is to suppose a total subversion of all the principles of 
 action which ordinarily regulate human conduct, on a scale 
 seldom exhibited before or since. 
 
 Some are willing to admit that if the ejected ministers really 
 had conscientious objections to the oaths and subscriptions re- 
 quired of them, they could not with honour conform ; but at 
 the same time profess pity for understandings which could be 
 fettered by prejudices so weak and scruples so frivolous. Com- 
 passion for the imbecility of such men as Howe and Baxter, 
 would at all events be a novel exhibition of the sentiment, and 
 entitle him who professed to feel it, to be compassionated in 
 his turn, for his ignorance and presumption. This, however, 
 leads to a brief re-consideration of the point, which, as already 
 stated, was conceded only for the sake of argument. Surely, 
 it may justly be argued, matter to which such men objected, 
 men possessing minds so enlarged, and knowledge so ample, 
 could not be so utterly indifferent as they have been often re- 
 presented. I have already said, that if they had been in them- 
 selves indifferent, it would little matter as far as the question 
 of conscience and duty is concerned ; what I further insist on 
 is, that, considering the character of the men, it is eminently 
 improbable that they should have been indifferent. 
 
 When it is urged that the ejected ministers were needlessly 
 scrupulous about things " indifferent or insignificant," it is 
 often forgotten that the oaths, subscriptions, and unfeigned 
 
 a
 
 82 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 assent and consent demanded of them extended to a great 
 variety of matters, which differed by every conceivable degree 
 of importance. Some of them, it is true, were " indifferent " 
 enough, and the scruples they excited may perhaps surprise 
 us : but others involved considerations of such magnitude, that 
 they might well exercise the most enlarged understanding 
 and perplex the most enlightened conscience. There were not 
 only cobwebs to catch insects, but nets, in the meshes of which 
 even noble animals might struggle in vain. 
 
 This led, as already stated and as might be expected, to a 
 corresponding difference in the grounds on which the ejected 
 ministers justified their nonconformity. The sufficiency or 
 insufficiency of those grounds could not be determined merely 
 by the fact of nonconformity ; since the Act of Uniformity 
 made "him who was guilty in one point guilty in all." A 
 separate examination of the reasons alleged by the several 
 parties can alone decide this question ; and to represent the 
 men in general as needlessly and frivolously scrupulous, be- 
 cause some were so, is grossly unfair. 
 
 Whether it was reasonable to demand rigorous compliance 
 with all even the most minute requisitions of the Act of 
 Uniformity, Churchmen, no less than Dissenters, have pretty 
 well decided in our day ; and that many of them respected no 
 " insignificant " or " trifling " matters, can hardly be denied. 
 
 But even supposing an individual to have no specific objec- 
 tions to any of the above requisitions ; supposing he merely 
 took his ground on some matters of ceremonial, which he him- 
 self acknowledged to be in their own nature " indifferent," still 
 it does not follow that he might not plead objections which, 
 whether really sound or unsound, cannot at all events be 
 deemed frivolous. 
 
 If any believed, for instance, (as Howe and many did,) that 
 rites and ceremonies of purely human origin, for which, by the 
 confession of all parties, there was no inevitable necessity,* 
 
 * This was the case, be it recollected, with some of the matters of ceremonial 
 which were objected to. Nevertheless, the bulk of the ejected ministers did not 
 wish that such things should be prohibited in the service of the Church, but that 
 their observance should not be made compulsory. They would have been satis-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 83 
 
 ought not to be introduced into public worship, or, that things, 
 which are in their own nature " indifferent," should be left to 
 every man's judgment and conscience, to them it was not a 
 matter of " indifference " whether they proceeded to sanction 
 a principle which might serve to justify far more extensive 
 innovations in matters of ceremonial, on the ground that they 
 were "indifferent," or were left undetermined by Scripture. 
 Many things may be confessedly " indifferent " in their own 
 nature, which can no longer be considered so, the moment it 
 is demanded that we should act as though they were not. In 
 this case, it is not the value of the concession that determines 
 the controversy, but the principle involved in it. 
 
 Once more : even if the ejected ministers had conceded all 
 the matters to which they objected, in the Common Prayer, to 
 be in themselves " indifferent," yet, as public functionaries, 
 they might not think it " indifferent," (as was Howe's case,) 
 whether they had the power of accommodating themselves to the 
 scruples of those among their audience who had not arrived at 
 the same latitude of opinion, or were compelled to restrict the 
 benefit of their labours to those only who on such matters 
 thought with themselves. For example, a minister might 
 think it very " indifferent " whether he used the sign of the 
 cross in baptism or not, but he might not think it indifferent 
 whether he was to exclude those from that rite altogether, who 
 had conscientious objections to the accompanying ceremonial. 
 
 If any one will candidly weigh the preceding observations, I 
 cannot but think he will be disposed to admit that neither 
 were all the matters imposed on the ejected ministers, indiffer- 
 ent or unimportant in themselves ; nor, if they had all been so, 
 was it " indifferent," whether they conformed or not ; that, on 
 the contrary, there was abundantly sufficient to justify hesita- 
 tion without supposing the recusants to be either over-scrupu- 
 lous fools or factious hypocrites. 
 
 fied, if every man had been allowed to use his own liberty in such matters. 
 Whether the men who pleaded for such reasonable latitude, or the then rulers 
 of the Church, (who, even to prevent a great schism, refused to surrender one 
 of the ceremonies which they themselves in the same breath confessed were 
 not absolutely necessary,) were the more unwisely pertinacious, let posterity 
 judge.
 
 84 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 But, lastly, if the matters about which the ejected ministers 
 scrupled were, indeed, so " indifferent/' (and it is those who 
 imposed them, who most loudly declared they were so,) there 
 can hardly be a doubt that it would have been more wise and 
 more Christian, not to demand compliance in these instances 
 at all. Their " indifference " is an argument which tells both 
 ways, or rather, which tells much more powerfully one way 
 than the other ; since it was much more easy for the one party 
 to refrain from imposing a condition which they proclaimed to 
 be indifferent, or, at all events, which they could not say they 
 were conscientiously obliged to impose, than for those to comply 
 with it, who declared they conscientiously believed it not to be 
 " indifferent ; " or who, if they believed it in its own nature 
 indifferent, had, on other and more general grounds, conscien- 
 tious objections to compliance. If, indeed, the framers of the 
 Act of Uniformity had declared that they were conscien- 
 tiously obliged to impose those terms with which the ejected 
 ministers could not conscientiously comply, the argument would 
 have been equal on both sides. Under such circumstances, 
 and so long as it remains true that " an erroneous conscience 
 obliges," none could blame, however all might lament, the con- 
 duct of the authors of the Act of Uniformity. But until such 
 a plea (never yet heard of) be advanced, it is hardly worth while 
 to consider it. To be told that the licentious Charles, and his 
 profligate advisers, or even that Lord Chancellor Hyde and 
 Archbishop Sheldon were, like the ejected ministers, troubled 
 with scruples of conscience in this matter ; and that these were 
 so strong as to compel them to render the cross in baptism, 
 kneeling at the sacrament, and the use of the ring in marriage, 
 obligatory, would be enough to discompose the gravity of the 
 gravest historian. Yet this alone would be an adequate de- 
 fence. If both parties had been equally infected with the 
 same troublesome disease of conscience, nothing could be said, 
 but that the one was compelled to impose conditions which the 
 other must continue to reject. Until such a plea is admitted, 
 however, or at least pretended, it will be reasonably maintained, 
 that the more plainly " indifferent " the matters which the 
 Church imposed, the more imperative was the duty not to im-
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 85 
 
 pose them. To relax needless rigour on the one side, was, in 
 the actual circumstances, easy; compliance on the other, im- 
 possible. 
 
 It is often said, indeed, that all churches must have some 
 terms of communion. True ; but if it really wishes to render 
 its pale as wide as possible, in other words to exclude the 
 smallest number of sincere Christians, it will insist, if it be 
 possible, on nothing as necessary to admission, but what the 
 Scripture declares to be so ; or if it deem itself obliged to 
 decide on some lesser matters, which Scripture leaves unde- 
 termined, it will take care that these shall be as few as pos- 
 sible. The question is, were these the principles by which the 
 framers of the Act of Uniformity were actuated ? If not, and 
 it seems nearer the truth to suppose that their object was the 
 very reverse,* it is no argument to say, that every church must 
 have some terms of admission and communion ; because, though 
 this is true, it does not follow that a church is justified in mul- 
 tiplying them confessedly beyond necessity ; in imposing any 
 which itself is compelled to admit it is not conscientiously 
 obliged to impose, on those who, at the same time, are con- 
 scientiously obliged to reject them. 
 
 But though Howe was an ejected minister, he could not con- 
 sent to be a silenced one. He still continued in Devonshire, 
 availing himself of every opportunity of preaching in private 
 houses those truths, which he was no longer permitted to pro- 
 claim in public. Such conduct, as may be supposed, soon 
 brought him into trouble. 
 
 Having preached at the house of a gentleman whom he had 
 been visiting for a few days, he found on returning home that 
 
 * There seems abundant reason to believe that the main object of some of 
 the authors of the Act of Uniformity, was the exclusion of the Presbyterian 
 clergy, and that this was the reason of the strictness with which it was framed. 
 The language of Sheldon, of whom Burnet says, that he seemed not to have any 
 clear sense of religion, if any at all, and that he spoke of it most commonly, as 
 of an " engine of government and a matter of policy," is well known. When 
 Lord Manchester remarked to the King, that he was afraid the terms of uni- 
 formity were so rigid that the ministers would not comply with them, Sheldon 
 replied, " I am afraid they will." 
 
 Thus to gratify party-spirit, the Church lost nearly two thousand ministers, 
 many of whom ranked amongst the most pious, diligent, and exemplary of her 
 clergy.
 
 86 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 an officer from the Bishop's court had been to apprehend him, 
 and not finding him, had given notice that citations were out 
 against both Howe and his friend.* 
 
 With characteristic promptitude, Howe, the next morning, 
 went to Exeter. While standing before the gate of the inn at 
 which he had put up his horse, and anxiously pondering the 
 course which it would be best for him to pursue, a dignitary 
 of the Church, to whom he was known, came past, and recog- 
 nising Howe, asked him, " what he did there ? " " Pray, Sir," 
 replied Howe, " what have I done that I may not be here ? " 
 His friend informed him that a process was out against him, 
 and that being so well known, he would find the utmost vigil- 
 ance necessary to secure himself from being apprehended. He 
 then -asked Howe, " whether he would not wait on the Bishop?" 
 Howe, who wished not to appear too solicitous about the matter, 
 and jet, to have an opportunity of meeting the charges of the 
 court without seeming to have sought it, replied, "that he 
 had no intention of doing so, unless his lordship, hearing of his 
 being in the city, should invite him." His good-natured friend 
 took the hint, and engaged, if Howe would wait in the mean 
 time at the inn, to let his lordship hear of his being in the city. 
 In a short time he returned with the intelligence that the Bishop 
 would be glad to see him. 
 
 When Howe was introduced, his lordship received him with 
 much politeness, and treated him as an old acquaintance. He 
 soon, however, began to use the freedom of an old acquaint- 
 ance, by expostulating with him on his nonconformity. Like 
 Bishop Wilkins, he asked him his reasons. Howe replied, that 
 without taxing his lordship's patience beyond all decency, he 
 could not give such an account of his objections as justice to 
 himself required. The Bishop then requested him to mention 
 any one of the points at which he scrupled. On this Howe 
 specified re- ordination. " Pray, Sir," said the Bishop, " what 
 
 * The Bishop of Exeter at this time was no other than Dr. Seth Ward, whose 
 cause Howe had so effectually pleaded before Cromwell. Though Dr. Ward 
 afterwards unrelentingly enforced the severe laws against the nonconformists, it 
 is pleasing to reflect that he manifested on this occasion a grateful sense of 
 Howe's former kindness.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 87 
 
 hurt is there in being twice ordained ? " " Hurt, my Lord," 
 rejoined Howe, "it hurts my understanding; the thought is 
 shocking ; it is an absurdity ; since nothing can have two 
 beginnings. I am sure I am a minister of Christ, and am 
 ready to debate that matter with your lordship, if your lord- 
 ship pleases ; but I cannot begin again to be a minister." 
 The Bishop dismissed him with strong expressions of regard, 
 assuring him that if he would conform, he might have consider- 
 able preferments. Howe then took his leave; and as the 
 Bishop said nothing of the process that was out against him, 
 his visitor, in conformity with the plan he had laid down, 
 also abstained from all allusion to the subject ; wisely conclud- 
 ing, that if the Bishop intended to proceed against him, he 
 would hardly have failed, on such an occasion, to mention it. 
 The event justified his inference ; as neither he nor his friend 
 heard anything more about the matter. 
 
 In 1665, the Parliament assembled at Oxford passed an act, 
 by which nonconformist ministers were called upon to swear 
 that it was not lawful, upon any pretence whatsoever, to take 
 arms against the King ; that they abhorred the traitorous posi- 
 tion of taking arms by his authority against his person, or 
 against those commissioned by him, in pursuance of such com- 
 mission ; and that they would not at any time endeavour any 
 alteration of the government, either in Church or State.* 
 
 The nonconformist ministers, as might be expected, were 
 much divided in their opinions about the propriety of taking 
 this oath. At length about twenty, amongst whom was Dr. 
 Bates, took it in London ; f about twelve, amongst whom was 
 Howe, in Devonshire ; J and a few in Dorsetshire. 
 
 * The hard penalty attached to a refusal to take this oath was, "not being 
 allowed, except on the high road, to come within five miles of any city, or 
 corporation, or any place that sent burgesses to Parliament, or any place where 
 they had been ministers, or had preached, since the Act of Oblivion." 
 
 f The principal thing which satisfied those of the nonconformist ministers 
 who took the oath, was the declaration of the Lord Keeper Bridgman, that by 
 endeavours to change the government was meant unlawful endeavours. The 
 pressure of the Act was so severe, that its victims were naturally glad to avail 
 themselves of any honourable method of gaining exemption from the severe 
 penalties attached to a refusal to take the oath. 
 
 The names of those who took the oath in Devonshire, (as Calamy ascer- 
 tained from a manuscript of a Mr. Quick,) were John Howe, Humphrey Saunders,
 
 88 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 On this occasion, Howe made the following candid and ex- 
 plicit declaration of the principles on which he took the oath 
 in question. Nothing could be more abhorrent from his nature, 
 than to avail himself of any ambiguity in the terms of the oath, 
 or of any evasive interpretation of its meaning. In his esti- 
 mation such conduct would have been fraud of the most 
 iniquitous description. The sophistical casuistry, by which 
 such practices have sometimes been defended, is with great 
 brevity, but great clearness, exposed in this declaration ; and, 
 indeed, as Calamy truly observes, "it states the matter of 
 oaths in general, as judiciously and fully as can well be sup- 
 posed or imagined in so narrow a compass." 
 
 "1. My swearing is my act. 2. The obligation I hereby 
 contract is voluntary. 3. Swearing in a form of words pre- 
 scribed by another, I adopt those words, and make them my 
 own. 4. Being now so adopted, their first use is to express 
 the true sense of my heart, touching the matter about which 1 
 swear. 5. Their next use, as they have now the form of an 
 oath, is to assure him or them who duly require it from me, 
 that what I express by them is the true sense of my heart. 
 6. 'Tis repugnant to both those ends, that they should be 
 construed (as now used by me) to signify another thing than 
 what I sincerely intend to make known by them. 7. If the 
 words be of dubious signification, capable of more senses than 
 one, I ought not to hide the sense in which I take them, but 
 declare it, lest I deceive them whom I should satisfy. 8. That 
 declaration I ought to make, if I have opportunity, to them 
 whose satisfaction is primarily intended by the oath ; if not, to 
 them whom they entrust and employ. 9. This declared sense 
 must be such as the words will fairly bear, without force or 
 violence/' 
 
 When Howe and the others appeared in court, for the pur- 
 pose of taking the oath, one of their number made the following 
 declaration of what they conceived its tenor and import : 
 
 " I confess I have had some doubts concerning this oath ; but 
 understanding, partly by discourse about it with some who 
 
 Gunnery. Mortimer, Parre, Francis Whiddon, Fairant, Wilkins, Binmore, Barry, 
 Cleveland, and Baily. The last two took it before the Act came into force ; the 
 others, subsequently, at the county sessions.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 89 
 
 concurred in making of the law, and partly by consideration 
 of the law itself, and other laws, that the oath hath no other 
 meaning or end, than to secure the person of the King's 
 Majesty, and his authority, whether in his person or commis- 
 sioners, and the government in Church and State, from being 
 shaken or subverted, by any unpeaceable or seditious endea- 
 vours, out of our place and calling, I am abundantly satisfied 
 to tender myself to this honourable court, for the taking of it." 
 
 To this declaration, which prevented all possibility of pre- 
 tence that the oath had been evasively dealt with, the court 
 made no objection. Under these circumstances the oath was 
 administered.* 
 
 Calamy says, he had been told that in this year (1665) 
 "Howe was imprisoned for two months, in the Isle of St. 
 Nicholas/' f That his father-in-law, George Hughes, and his 
 brother-in-law, Obadiah Hughes, had recently been imprisoned 
 there, and for a much longer period, is certain. On what 
 grounds he supposes Howe himself to have been thus hardly 
 dealt with, I know not. The name of his informant, and the 
 reason for which he gave credit to the information, he has 
 neglected to mention. As he admits, however, that he knew 
 " nothing of the occasion of this imprisonment, or of what was 
 alleged to justify it, or in what way Howe obtained deliver- 
 ance ; " it may be doubted whether his information was correct. 
 
 That Howe, about this time, had been called to sustain some 
 severe affliction is indeed evident from an affecting letter, which 
 he wrote to his brother-in-law, Obadiah Hughes, shortly after 
 that gentleman and his aged father had been set at liberty. 
 Part of it is as follows : 
 
 " Blessed be God, that we can have, and hear of, each other's 
 occasions of thanksgiving, that we may join praises as well as 
 prayers, which I hope is done daily for one another. Nearer 
 approaches and constant adherence to God, with the improve- 
 
 * Two of them, Fair ant and Wilkins, took it with this limitation : " so far as 
 the laws of man are agreeable to the word of God ; " a limitation which does 
 not seem to have awakened any suspicions in those who imposed it. But much 
 stranger things were thought " agreeable to the laws of God " in those days. 
 
 f Near Plymouth.
 
 90 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 ment of our interest in each other's heart, must compensate 
 (and I hope will abundantly) the unkindness and instability of 
 a surly treacherous world, that we see still retains its wayward 
 temper, and grows more peevish as it grows older, and more 
 ingenious in inventing ways to torment whom it disaffects. It 
 was, it seems, not enough to kill by one single death, but when 
 that was almost done, to give leave and time to respire, to live 
 again, at least in hope, that it might have the renewed pleasure 
 of putting us to a further pain and torture in dying once more. 
 Spite is natural to her. All her kindness is an artiBcial dis- 
 guise ; a device to promote and serve the design of the former 
 with the more efficacious and piercing malignity. But patience 
 will elude the design, and blunt its sharpest edge. It is 
 perfectly defeated when nothing is expected from it but mis- 
 chief; for then the worst it can threaten finds us provided, and 
 the best it can promise, incredulous, and not apt to be imposed 
 upon. This will make it at last despair and grow hopeless, 
 when it finds that the more it goes about to mock and vex 
 us, the more it teaches and instructs us ; and that as it is 
 wickeder, we are wiser. If we cannot, God will outwit it, and 
 carry us, I trust, safe through, to a better world, upon which 
 we may terminate hopes that will never make us ashamed." 
 
 The expressions in this letter, however, by no means warrant 
 us to conclude, that Howe had been subjected to the same 
 rough treatment as the relatives with whom he thus condoles. 
 Unhappily, the afflictions of an ejected minister were too 
 various, sprang from too many sources, to sanction such a hasty 
 inference. Degrading and painful as imprisonment might be, 
 it was not the worst that could befall him. He was often called 
 to endure trials far more severe ; trials, compared to which the 
 most protracted imprisonment was light and trivial. To wander 
 forth with his family, (as was the lot of many of them,) without 
 a home, or to sit over a desolate hearth, and listen to the cry 
 of his famishing children, these were the severest trials of an 
 "ejected minister." 
 
 Indeed, in reading the history of the persecutions with 
 which the various parties of Protestants have, at different 
 periods, assailed each other, a very painful reflection can hardly 
 fail to suggest itself. Though the spirit of persecution has 
 been less bloodthirsty and unsparing amongst those parties
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 91 
 
 than under the papal domination, and therefore less detestable, 
 its comparative lenience, and moderation of purpose, must often 
 have occasioned (quite undesignedly it is admitted) more suf- 
 fering than would have resulted from a more summary and less 
 scrupulous cruelty. The brief horrors of the stake the 
 momentary pang which, at once dismissed the weary spirit to 
 its everlasting rest, would often have been gladly preferred to 
 that slow, protracted torture, which was inflicted on many of 
 the sufferers for religion during the seventeenth century. 
 
 The privations and sorrows of those who were more dear to 
 them than their own lives, the sordid wants by which they 
 were oppressed, the contempt with which they were treated, 
 the intense solicitude, the perpetual suspicion which robbed 
 them of peace by day, and haunted their sleep by night, must 
 have wrung with anguish many a heart which would not have 
 faltered at the stake. Martyrdom might have been borne, 
 nay, in many instances, would have been most welcome ; but 
 long years of penury and destitution, with the maddening 
 spectacle of a starving family, these must have been worse 
 than many martyrdoms. 
 
 Whatever the sorrows or sufferings to which Howe alludes 
 in the above letter, it is plain he had well learned how to bear 
 them ; or rather, to convert them into sources of instruction 
 and improvement. Every line of it breathes the serenest 
 resignation, the loftiest and most unbroken spirit of hope, 
 patience, and superiority to the world. 
 
 For several years Howe continued to lead the life of a 
 fugitive and wanderer; staying now with one friend, now 
 with another ; literally " preaching from house to house," and 
 procuring a precarious and slender subsistence by performing 
 any service, however humble, of which he was capable. His 
 bitter recollections of this period of his life, seem to have sug- 
 gested that brief but vivid description which he gave of the 
 condition of the ejected ministers, in a document published 
 nearly forty years after. " Many of them," said he, " live 
 upon charity ; some of them with difficulty getting, and others 
 (educated to modesty) with greater difficulty begging, their 
 bread."
 
 92 LIFE -OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 At length, impelled perhaps by necessity, he published his 
 justly admired treatise, entitled, " The Blessedness of the 
 Righteous." It was published in 1668, and seems to have 
 met with all the success it so well deserved.* It was the 
 substance of sermons preached during his residence at Great 
 Torrington. Some time during this year, it appears that 
 Howe was at Bath for the benefit of his health.f 
 
 All remarks of a critical nature upon Howe's works will be 
 reserved for the close of the volume ; but the preface to " The 
 Blessedness of the Righteous " is so characteristic of the 
 author breathes such a noble and catholic spirit evinces a 
 mind so deeply intent on the great realities of religion and 
 displays such magnanimity and elevation of feeling, that I 
 cannot pass on without commending it to the special attention 
 of the reader. It conveys to us, indeed, a more accurate, as 
 well as more impressive idea of the author, than the most 
 elaborate description of the ablest biographer. Nor is this 
 " Preface " destitute of other, though, it will be admitted, in- 
 ferior claims to attention. Viewed simply as a piece of com- 
 position, its merits are of no mean order. The masculine 
 thought which pervades it, the striking illustrations with 
 which it is enlivened, and even its occasional felicities of 
 expression and of style, (not often met with in the writings of 
 our author,) render it well worthy of perusal. We may find 
 room for a sentence or two : 
 
 " I am not at all solicitous, that the world should know the 
 history of the conception of this treatise. ... If there 
 be anything that shall recompense the pains of such as may 
 think fit to give themselves the trouble of perusing it, in the 
 work itself, I should yet think it too much an undervaluing of 
 them, if I did reckon the minuter circumstances relating thereto 
 fit matter for their entertainment. . . . Nor am I more 
 concerned to have it known what were the inducements to the 
 publication of it. Earnest protestations and remonstrances of 
 our good intentions in such undertakings, as they leave men 
 
 * This, it appears, was not his earliest production ; in 1660 he published the 
 sermon entitled " Man's Creation in a Holy but Mutable State." It was inserted 
 in the " Morning Exercises Methodized." 
 
 t Life of Rev. Joseph Alleine, page 96.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWfi. 93 
 
 still at liberty to believe or doubt at their pleasure, so they 
 gain us little if they be believed. It is no easy matter to 
 carry one, even, constant tenor of spirit through a work of 
 time. Nor is it more easy to pass a settled, invariable judg- 
 ment concerning so variable a subject; when a heart that may 
 seem wholly framed and set for God this hour, shall look so 
 quite like another thing the next, and change figures and 
 postures almost as often as it doth thoughts. And if a man 
 should be mistaken in judging himself, it would little mend 
 the matter to have deceived others also into a good opinion of 
 him. But if he can approve himself to God in the simplicity 
 of an honest and undeceived heart, the peace that ensues is a 
 secret between God and him. ' They are theatre enough to 
 one another/ * as one said to his friend. It is an enclosed 
 pleasure ; a joy which the stranger cannot intermeddle with. 
 
 " It is therefore any man's concernment herein rather to 
 satisfy himself than the world ; and the world's, rather to 
 understand the design of the work than the author; and 
 whither it tends, rather than whereto he meant it. And it is 
 obvious enough, to what good purposes discourses of this 
 nature may serve. This is, in the design of it, wholly practical ; 
 hath little or nothing to do with disputation. If there be any 
 whose business it is to promote a private, divided interest, or 
 who place the sum of their religion in an inconsiderable and 
 doubtful opinion, it doth not unhallow their altars, nor offer 
 any affront to their idol/' 
 
 * Seneca.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 FEOM 1669 TO 1677. 
 
 HOWE INVITED TO BECOME CHAPLAIN TO LORD MASSARENE, OP ANTRIM CASTLE 
 
 ACCEPTS THE SITUATION REMOVES WITH HIS FAMILY TO IRELAND PROBABLY THE 
 
 HAPPIEST PERIOD OF HIS LIFE NATURE OF HIS EMPLOYMENT UNIVERSAL RESPECT 
 
 HE CONCILIATED PUBLISHES HIS " VANITY OF MAN AS MORTAL " CIRCUMSTANCES 
 
 IN WHICH IT ORIGINATED PUBLISHES HIS " DELIGHTING IN GOD " THE PREFATORY 
 
 LETTER REFLECTIONS COMPOSES THE FIRST PART OF HIS " LIVING TEMPLE " 
 
 IS INVITED TO THE PASTORAL CHARGE OF A CONGREGATION IN LONDON SELF- 
 EXAMINATION PREVIOUS TO LEAVING ANTRIM REFLECTIONS REMOVES HIS FAMILY 
 
 TO LONDON KING CHARLES'S INDULGENCE REMARKS HOWE PUBLISHES THE 
 FIRST PART OF HIS " LIVING TEMPLE." 
 
 ABOUT a year, or a little more, after the publication of " The 
 Blessedness of the Righteous," and perhaps in conse- 
 quence of the deserved reputation which he acquired by it, 
 Howe was invited to become domestic chaplain to Lord Mas- 
 sarene,* of Antrim Castle, Ireland ; and the invitation, flattering 
 in itself, was accompanied by very advantageous offers. The 
 proposal, even if it had been less tempting, would have been 
 backed by an argument perfectly resistless : he was by this 
 time in necessitous circumstances. How, indeed, could it be 
 otherwise ? He had now been ejected six years, and during 
 this period had subsisted on an income, which, even if it had 
 been less precarious, was miserably insufficient, and, unhappily, 
 was as precarious as it was scanty. Poverty brought with it 
 the deeper anguish and solicitude, that it found him with a 
 young and numerous family. 
 
 * Originally Sir John Skeffington, of Fisherwick, Staffordshire (fifth Baronet). 
 He became Viscount Massarene in right of his wife, Mary, the only daughter of 
 Sir John Clotworthy, who, having been very active in the restoration of Charles 
 II., was rewarded with the title of Lord Massarene. Howe's patron, therefore, 
 was second Lord Massarene. He was active in the revolution of 1688. He 
 died June 21st, 1695.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 95 
 
 Under these circumstances he did not hesitate long. Grate- 
 fully embracing the offer of Lord Massarene, he set sail for 
 Dublin early in the year 1671.* He embarked at some port 
 in Wales, which Calamy conjectures to be Holyhead. 
 
 While waiting at this place for a fair wind, a circumstance 
 occurred which showed both his anxiety to avail himself of 
 every opportunity of doing good, and the impressive character 
 of his preaching. 
 
 It appears that he was detained at the port for more than a 
 week. On the Sunday, he was of course anxious, if not to 
 preach, at least to hear the gospel ; but though there was a 
 large parish church, there was no preaching, it being the 
 practice of the clergyman only to read prayers. 
 
 As there were many who, like Howe, were waiting for a fair 
 wind, they were anxious to find some secluded spot in which 
 he might preach to them. While they were seeking some 
 such place on the sea-shore, they met two persons on horse- 
 back riding towards the town, " who proved to be parson and 
 clerk." One of the party accosted the latter, and asked him, 
 whether his master would preach that day ? " My master/' 
 replied the clerk, " is only accustomed to read prayers." He 
 then asked whether the clergyman would have any objection 
 to allow a minister who was tarrying in the town, waiting to 
 embark for Ireland, to occupy his pulpit for that day. He 
 replied, that he believed that his master would willingly 
 comply with such request. Upon this the proposal was made, 
 and the clergyman instantly acceded to ifc. Howe accordingly 
 preached twice in the parish church that day. In the after- 
 noon, the congregation was very large, attentive, and appa- 
 rently much affected. 
 
 The .wind continued contrary all the next week; and the 
 people having heard of Howe's destination, and observing that 
 the vessel had not left the port, thronged the church on the 
 Sabbath morning in expectation of again hearing the stranger, 
 who had preached in a style so impressive, and to them so 
 
 * Calamy says in April ; but, for reasons hereafter to be assigned, it would 
 appear to have been somewhat earlier.
 
 96 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 novel. The clergyman, who had quite forgotten the whole 
 matter, and had doubtless expected only the usual quiet 
 audience, was confounded at this prodigious concourse of 
 people. Totally unprovided himself to meet the exigency, he 
 hastily despatched his clerk to implore Howe's assistance : de- 
 claring, that "if he would not come he knew not what to do, 
 for that the country had come in from several miles round, in 
 the hope of hearing him." The messenger found Howe, who 
 had been much indisposed, in bed. On being told the cause 
 of this strange summons, he was at first in doubt whether he 
 ought to venture ; but reflecting that he knew not how much 
 good might be done by his efforts, amongst a people who 
 seemed eager to hear the word of God in proportion to the 
 rarity of their opportunities of hearing it, he resolved to risk 
 it. He afterwards declared that he had seldom preached with 
 more fervour and energy, and never saw a congregation 
 more attentive or devout. He at the same time added, " If 
 ray ministry was ever of any use, I think it must be then." A 
 few days after, he set sail for Ireland. 
 
 After remaining a short time at Lord Massarenefs, his whole 
 family joined him. 
 
 The years Howe spent in Ireland were probably the happiest 
 in his life. Under the protection of a powerful patron, and in 
 the enjoyment of a competent income, he quietly pursued his 
 two most cherished employments, the ministry of the gospel 
 and the study of divinity. 
 
 Antrim Castle, even then a noble structure, though it has 
 gradually reached its present scale of grandeur by successive 
 enlargements since that period, is situated in the midst of the 
 most magnificent scenery. The spacious and fertile domain is 
 watered by a beautiful lake, called Lough Neagh, from which 
 the Lords Massarene took one of their titles.* 
 
 It was here that Howe revised and published his sermon 
 
 * " Antrim Castle adjoins the town from whence it takes its name ; a view 
 up the principal street of which is commanded from the parapet of an adjoining 
 terrace-garden, ascended from the castle-yard by a handsome flight of stone 
 steps. It is enclosed from the town by a gateway, and stands on a walled ter- 
 race, overhanging the river Ovenoeen, or Six Mile Water, which flows into the
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 97 
 
 entitled " The Vanity of Man as Mortal," and his valuable 
 little treatise on " Delighting in God/' It was here also that 
 he prepared for the press, the first part of his greatest work, 
 " The Living Temple." The deep solitude and the romantic 
 beauty of the scenes in which he now dwelt, well harmonized 
 with the tendencies of a mind so contemplative and so fond of 
 abstraction. To the opportunities of prolonged and solitary 
 meditation which such scenes afforded, we are perhaps, in some 
 degree, indebted for the sustained sublimity, the noble senti- 
 ments, and the subtle trains of abstract reasoning, with which- 
 the works he produced at this period of his life abound. 
 
 It is not a little singular, that not many years before, in the- 
 same part of Ireland, and under circumstances very similar, 
 was produced the larger part of another of the many great 
 works which adorn the theology of our country. I allude to. 
 the "Ductor Dubitantium" of Jeremy Taylor. When, the- 
 Episcopal party was under a cloud like that which in its turn 
 overshadowed the "ejected ministers," Taylor found, in the 
 patronage of the Earl of Conway, the protection which Ho/we 
 
 vast waters of Lough Neagh, within sight of the castle, at about the distance of 
 a quarter of a mile. 
 
 " This castle is among the few found to be preserved in Ireland, of those 
 erected in pursuance of the injunctions of the grant made by James I. , for the 
 protection of the colonies or plantations then about to be established. The 
 building was raised, as appears by an inscription on a large carved mantel of 
 stone, covering the centre of the principal front, in the year 1613, by Sir Hugh 
 Clotworthy, and has been subsequently altered, according to the different tastes 
 of its successive proprietors. 
 
 " The front of the castle is also decorated with the armorial bearings of the 
 family, and those of their alliances, surmounted by the royal arms of England, 
 and a carved head, in relief, of Charles 1. 
 
 " The suite of rooms is extensive and modern, the entire castle having under- 
 gone a thorough repair in the time of the last Earl of Massarene. The exterior 
 towards the court has been restored, by the present possessor, to the character 
 of the period in which it was originally erected. 
 
 " Few places in Ireland command greater power of beauty, or extent of drive. 
 Its demesne and deer-park stretch along the shore of Lough Neagh for above 
 two miles, ornamented with fine old timber and copse wood, covering every 
 headland, down to the water's edge, with various plantations, calculated to 
 blend in the scenery of as rich and highly cultivated a country as any to be 
 found in Ireland. The view over the lake towards the south is bounded only 
 by the horizon, while towards the west it rests on the distant Tyrone and Derry 
 mountains, and the nearer woods of Shane's Castle, the ancient seat of Earl 
 O'Neile, whose towers project into the lake itself. These two fine domains, 
 indeed, embrace, with their woods and pleasure grounds, the whole bay of 
 Antrim, an extent of six or seven miles." Neal's Seats.
 
 98 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 now enjoyed in that of Lord Massarene ; and amidst the mag- 
 nificent and romantic scenery which encircled the seat of his 
 noble patron, composed the greatest part of his comprehensive 
 treatise on casuistry. The work which Howe produced at 
 Antrim Castle, though on a subject totally different, deserves 
 equal celebrity. Both works indicate intellect of the highest 
 order, though of character as different as the subjects of which 
 they respectively treat. 
 
 Nothing can more strongly evince the rare conjunction of 
 excellence that must have met in Howe his catholic temper, 
 his consummate prudence, his unaffected modesty, his insinu- 
 ating manners than the fact, quite unprecedented, that the 
 Bishop of the diocese, in concurrence with the wishes of his Me- 
 tropolitan, permitted him, without any demand of conformity, to 
 preach at Antrim church every week. The Archbishop is 
 even reported to have publicly told his clergy, that he could 
 wish every pulpit in his province to be open to the distin- 
 guished nonconformist. 
 
 Within a very short time after his arrival in Ireland, cer- 
 tainly within a month or two, he published the first of the 
 three works above mentioned, " The Vanity of Man as Mortal." 
 Of all his smaller pieces, this, perhaps, has been most read, 
 and most admired. It was written on one of the most affecting 
 occasions that can well be conceived; an occasion calculated 
 to stir the deepest emotions of a mind, which, indeed, scarcely 
 needed any such extraordinary admonitions of Providence to 
 enforce what it habitually felt the vanity of mortality and of 
 time. The event to which reference is now made, was the 
 death of Mr. Anthony Upton, the son of John Upton, Esq., of 
 Lupton, in the county of Devon, a relative of Howe's. This 
 son had been absent in Spain for more than twenty years, and 
 had at length, at the earnest entreaties of his friends, con- 
 sented to return home. His family having received intimation 
 of the probable period of his arrival, it was arranged that 
 there should be a, meeting of his brothers and sisters, and all 
 his other near relations, at his father's house, to celebrate the 
 joyous occasion of his return. They assembled accordingly ; 
 but what was their consternation, when the vessel which was
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 99 
 
 ( 
 
 to have brought their long-lost friend, brought him in his 
 shroud ! It appears that, immediately after he had made ar- 
 rangements for embarkation, he had been attacked with some 
 .violent disease, which in a few days terminated his life; so 
 that the first notice his friends had of this sad event, (to use 
 the language of Howe in his Dedicatory Epistle,) " was the 
 arrival of that vessel clad in mourning attire, which, according 
 to his own desire in his sickness, brought over the deserted 
 body to its native place." The family who had arranged their 
 meeting under such far happier auspices, instead of assembling, 
 as they had expected, to greet him after his long absence from 
 his country, met only to " celebrate the mournful solemnity of 
 his interment/' 
 
 All remarks of a critical nature on this sublime discourse, 
 will, as usual, be reserved for the proper place. I may here 
 make special mention, however, of the Dedicatory Epistle, both 
 because it is in itself a striking composition, and because it 
 serves to determine some few points respecting the time and 
 circumstances of Howe's removal to Ireland. It is dated from 
 Antrim, April 12th, 1671. The date alone, coupled with the 
 fact that he " had suspended his consent to the publication of 
 this discourse " (composed before he left England) " till a copy 
 had been transmitted for his inspection," would be a sufficient 
 proof that the time* Calamy has assigned for his removal to 
 Ireland cannot be correct. This " Epistle," however, mentions 
 a circumstance which at once removes all doubt on the subject. 
 In one part of it Howe adverts to a letter, which, " in conse- 
 quence of his removal to Ireland, had not come, till long after" 
 its date, " to his hands." These words certainly imply, that 
 when he wrote this prefatory letter he had been at Antrim at 
 least some weeks. This letter also shows that Howe had been 
 in London a short time previous to his taking up his abode at 
 Antrim Castle. 
 
 One noble passage, in which he laments the spread of that 
 infidelity which naturally flourished in the profligate age of the 
 
 * April, 1671.
 
 100 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 second Charles, and to which the " Mortality " of man was the 
 most welcome doctrine, is worth citing : 
 
 " If he that, amidst the hazards of a dubious war, betrays 
 the interest and honour of his country, be justly infamous, and 
 thought worthy severest punishments, I see not why a de- 
 bauched sensualist, that lives as if he were created only to 
 indulge his appetite ; that so vilifies the notion of man, as if he 
 were made but to eat, and drink, and sport, to please only his 
 sense and fancy ; that in this time and state of conflict between 
 the powers of this present world, and those of the world to 
 come, quits his party, bids open defiance to humanity, abjures 
 the noble principles and ends, forsakes the laws and society of 
 all that are worthy to be esteemed men, abandons the common 
 and rational hope of mankind concerning a future immortality, 
 and herds himself among brute creatures : I say, I see not why 
 such a one should not be scorned and abhorred as a traitor to 
 the whole race and nation of reasonable creatures, as a fugitive 
 from the tents and deserter of the common interest of men ; 
 and that, both for the vileness of his practice and the danger 
 of his example. 
 
 " One would think whosoever have remaining in them any 
 conscience of obligation and duty to the common Parent and 
 Author of our beings, any remembrance of our divine original, 
 any breathings of our ancient hope, any sense of human honour, 
 any resentments of so vile an indignity to the nature of man, 
 any spark of a just and generous indignation for so opprobrious 
 a contumely to their own kind and order in the creation, should 
 oppose themselves with an heroic vigour to this treacherous 
 and unnatural combination. And let us, my worthy friends, 
 be provoked, in our several capacities, to do our parts herein ; 
 and, at least, so to live and converse in this world, that the 
 course and tenor of our lives may import an open asserting of 
 our hopes in another ; and may let men see we are not ashamed 
 to own the belief of a life to come. Let us, by a patient con- 
 tinuance in well-doing, (how low designs soever others content 
 themselves to pursue,) seek honour, glory, and immortality to 
 ourselves ; and by our avowed, warrantable ambition in this 
 pursuit, justify our great and bountiful Creator, who hath 
 made us not in vain, but for so high and great things ; and 
 glorify our blessed Redeemer, who, amidst the gloomy and dis- 
 consolate darkness of this wretched world, when it was over- 
 spread with the shadow of death, hath brought life and iminor-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 101 
 
 tality to light in the gospel. Let us labour both to feel and 
 express the power of that religion which hath the inchoation 
 of the participated divine life for its principle, and the per- 
 fection and eternal perpetuation thereof for its scope and end." 
 
 It has been mentioned that Howe published his treatise on 
 " Delighting in God/' during his stay at Antrim Castle. It 
 first appeared in London, in 1674. It purports to be the sub- 
 stance of a series of sermons, preached many years before at 
 Great Torrington, and is prefaced by a most affectionate letter 
 to his friends there. 
 
 For the same reasons which induced me to offer a remark or 
 two on the preface to the " Blessedness of the Righteous/' I 
 shall not dismiss the introductory letter just mentioned without 
 observation. It displays, in common with all the author's 
 writings, a spirit supremely intent on those great truths in 
 which Christians are agree<jl, and consequently disposed to 
 form a very moderate estimate of the points in which they 
 differ. Not that he would represent these last as matters of 
 no importance at all ; or content himself with the exercise of 
 that spurious charity, which consists simply in laxity of 
 opinion ; a charity which disposes its possessors to agree with 
 all parties, simply because they belong to none. His charity 
 is of a very different complexion. He declares that he " is not 
 indifferent about those matters which he cannot discern to be 
 in their own nature so ; " he pretends not " to be without his 
 opinions about those smaller things; " he is simply anxious to 
 unite an open and honest avowal of those opinions, with a 
 mild and forbearing spirit : he will not surrender his own 
 judgment out of a regard for charity; but he endeavours and 
 this is the real difficulty to vindicate truth in the spirit of 
 love. There is a beautiful passage in which, while he contends 
 that on those points which divide Christians, he must adopt 
 the opinions which, after mature deliberation, he believes to 
 be right, he at the same time admits, that even where he is 
 most confident of being in the right, the possibility of error 
 should still teach caution and humility ; and that even on the 
 supposition that he is in the right, there can be no ground for
 
 102 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 any overweening conceit of superiority, since " of every differ- 
 ing party, he knows some by whom he finds himself much ex- 
 celled in far greater things, than is the matter of their differ- 
 ence." How rare was such a spirit as this in that day ! How 
 rare even in our own ! 
 
 The whole composition displays an elevation of mind and an 
 amplitude of charity, to be found only in one who already 
 dwelt on the confines of heaven. Nothing but this could have 
 so defecated the judgment from all vulgar prejudices, and 
 composed the spirit to so serene a temper. From the lofty 
 elevation he had attained, he daily looked out on the solemn 
 and tranquil scenes of the eternal world, and as he gazed on 
 them, the turbulent passions of his fellow-men, and the noisy 
 controversies of the age, disturbed him as little as the hum 
 of a distant village might be supposed to interfere with the 
 musings of some contemplative spirit, eyeing a far-spread and 
 glorious prospect in the last fading and solemn splendours of a 
 summer sunset. 
 
 Nor does this letter exhibit in a less striking point of view, 
 Howe's truly pastoral character. The ties which bound him 
 to his early and humble flock, were not like those which too 
 often subsist between a minister and his people, slight, and 
 easily severed. They resembled those which subsist between 
 a parent and his children, ties, the strength of which, neither 
 time, nor even neglect and ingratitude, can impair. Those to 
 whom he had once been a spiritual father and guide, seem to 
 have been for ever graven on his memory ; and in the spirit 
 of an apostle, he never " bowed his knees before the God and 
 Father of his Lord," without " making mention " of them. 
 No lapse of time, no change of circumstances, could banish the 
 scene of his early labours, or abate his interest in his flock ; 
 and now, after a lapse of twenty years, he again addresses 
 to them his paternal rebukes and his paternal benedictions. 
 With what solemnity, with what fidelity, with what passionate 
 earnestness, does he apply himself to this task ! Is it possible 
 that any of them could read the expostulations with which it 
 closes, expostulations conceived in suqh a spirit of exquisite 
 pathos and melting tenderness, without being softened into 
 tears ?
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 103 
 
 The following passages are very characteristic : 
 
 " Great reason I have to repent, that I have not with greater 
 earnestness pressed upon you the known and important things 
 wherein serious Christians do generally agree. But I repent 
 not I have been so little engaged in the hot contests of our 
 age, about the things wherein they differ. For, as I pretend 
 to little light in these things ; (whence I could not have much 
 confidence to fortify me unto such an undertaking ;) so I must 
 profess to have little inclination to contend about matters of 
 that kind. Nor yet am I indifferent as to those smaller things, 
 that I cannot discern to be in their own nature so. But 
 though I cannot avoid to think that course right which I have 
 deliberately chosen therein, I do yet esteem that but a small 
 thing upon which to ground an opinion of my excelling them 
 that think otherwise, as if I knew more than they. For I have 
 often recounted thus seriously with myself; that of every differ- 
 ing party in those circumstantial matters, I do particularly 
 know some persons by whom I find myself much excelled in 
 far greater things than is the matter of that difference. 1 
 cannot, it is true, thereupon say and think everything that 
 they do; which is impossible, since they differ from one 
 another as well as me. And I understand well, there are 
 other measures of truth than this or that excellent person's 
 opinion. But I thereupon reckon I have little reason to be 
 conceited of any advantage I have of such in point of know- 
 ledge, (even as little as he should have, that can sing or play 
 well on a lute, of him that knows how to command armies or 
 govern a kingdom,) and can with less confidence differ from 
 them, or contend with them ; being thereby, though I cannot 
 find I err in these matters, constrained to have some suspicion 
 lest I do ; and to admit it possible enough that some of them 
 who differ from me, having much more light in greater matters, 
 may have so in these also. Besides, that I most seriously 
 think humility, charity, and patience, would more contribute 
 to the composing of these lesser differences, or to the good 
 estate of the Christian interest under them, than the most fer- 
 vent disputes and contestations." . . . 
 
 He thus concludes : 
 
 " I bow my knees for you all, that a living, delightful 
 religion may flourish in your hearts and families, instead of 
 those dry, withered things, worldliness, formality, and strife
 
 104 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 about trifles : which will make Torrington an Hephzibah, a 
 place to be delighted in ; your country a pleasant region ; and 
 (if he may but hear of it) add no little to the satisfaction and 
 delight of 
 
 " Your affectionate servant in Christ, 
 " Who most seriously desires your true prosperity, 
 
 "JOHN HOWE. 
 
 "Antrim, Sep. 1,1674." 
 
 Howe remained in Lord Massarene's family about five years. 
 In 1675, he was invited to London, to take the charge of the 
 congregation recently under the pastoral care of Dr. Lazarus 
 Seaman, just deceased. Dr. S. was one of the most able, 
 learned, and influential of the metropolitan ministers. He was 
 a strict Presbyterian, and an advocate of the jus divinum of 
 that form of church polity. He died September 9, 1675. 
 For some time before his death he had shared the pastoral 
 charge with Dr. Thomas Jacomb, who continued for some 
 years to hold the same relation to his successor.* 
 
 As there was some division of opinion amongst the congre- 
 gation, (many of whom were anxious to secure the services of 
 the well-known Stephen Charnock,) and as it was impossible 
 to obtain by letter a full knowledge of all the circumstances 
 on which his decision must depend, Howe resolved on a voy- 
 age to England before he replied to the application. Previous 
 to his departure from Ireland on this important object, he 
 subjected his motives and feelings to a most conscientious and 
 rigid examination. His thoughts on this occasion he minuted 
 down, under the title of 
 
 " Considerations and Communing s with myself concerning my 
 present Journey. Dec. 20, 75, by Night, on my Bed. 
 
 " I. Quaere Have. I not an undue design or self-respect in it ? 
 
 "1. I know well I ought not to have any design for 
 myself, which admits not of subordination to the interest and 
 honour of the great God, and my Redeemer, and which is not 
 actually so subordinated. 
 
 * See the Appendix to Howe's Sermon on "Patience in Expectation of 
 Future Blessedness."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 105 
 
 " 2. I understand the fearful evil and sinfulness of having 
 such an undue design ; that it is idolatry, the taking another 
 god, and making myself that god. 
 
 " 3. I find (through God's mercy) some sensible stirrings of 
 hatred and detestation, in my breast, of that wickedness, and 
 a great apprehension of the loveliness and beauty of a state of 
 pure, entire devoted ness to God in Christ, and of acting 
 accordingly. 
 
 "4. I have insisted on this chiefly in prayer to God, in 
 reference to this business, ever since it was set on foot, that 
 I might be sincere in it ; and though I have earnestly begged 
 light to guide me therein, so as that I might do that herein 
 which in the substance of the thing is agreeable to the holy 
 will of God, yet I have much more importunately prayed that 
 I might be sincere in what I do ; not only because I know God 
 will pardon ignorance (unremedied by utmost endeavours) 
 where he beholds sincerity, whereas he will never accept the 
 knowledge of our duty, nor the doing what is in substance 
 our duty, if that right manner of doing it, or principle whence 
 it is done, be wanting ; but, also, from the higher esteem I 
 have of sincerity, above all light and knowledge without it, 
 and the greater excellence of the thing itself. 
 
 " 5. I have carefully examined what selfish respects I can 
 have in this matter. Is it worldly emolument ? In this my 
 heart acquits me in the sight of God. Is it that I affect to be 
 upon a public stage, to be popular and applauded by men ? 
 To this I say, 1. That I do verily believe, that I shall be lower 
 in the eye and esteem of the people in London, when I come 
 under their nearer view. I know myself incapable of pleasing 
 their genius. I cannot contrive nor endure to preach with 
 elaborate artifice. They will soon be weary, when they hear 
 nothing but plain discourses of such matters as are not new to 
 them. Yea, and ministers that now judge of me by what I 
 have written, (when matter and words were in some measure 
 weighed,) will find me, when I converse with them, slow to 
 apprehend things, slow to express my own apprehensions, 
 unready, entangled, and obscure in my apprehensions and ex- 
 pressions : so that all will soon say, ' This is not the man we 
 took him for/ 2. It displeases me not, that they should find 
 and say this. I hope I should digest it well. 3. I have found 
 (blessed be God) that the applauses some have imprudently 
 given me in letters, (as I have received many of that strain, very 
 many long before this business, and that had no relation unto
 
 106 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 any such, that no eye hath ever since seen but my own,) an 
 occasion and means to me of deep humiliation, when my own 
 heart hath witnessed to me my miserable penury, and that I am 
 thought to be what I am not. 4. So far as I can find, I do 
 not deliberately covet or desire esteem but for my work's sake, 
 and the success of my work. Of applause I have often found an 
 inward abhorrence. I both know I have nothing but what I 
 have received, and that I have received a great deal less than 
 many think I have : which I say with reflection on myself; not 
 to diminish the bounty of the Free-giver, from whom I know I 
 might have received much more, if I had sought and used his 
 gifts aright. All the design I can more vehemently suspect 
 myself of that looks like self-interest any way, is, 1. The 
 improvement of my own knowledge, which I know there may 
 be great opportunities for, if this journey should issue in my 
 settlement at London. 2. The disposal of my children. Yet I 
 hope these things are eyed in subordination, and indifferently, 
 so as not to sway with me against my duty. 
 
 " II. Quaere Save I not a previous resolution of settling at 
 London before I go up ? 
 
 "I.I have a resolution to do what I shall conceive shall 
 make most to the usefulness of the rest of my life, which 
 resolution I ought never to be without. 
 
 " 2. I am seriously yet at a loss as to judging this case, 
 whether in this country or there. 
 
 " 3. If I can find clearly it is my duty to return in order to 
 continuance at Antrim, I shall do it with high complacency. 
 
 " III. Qusere Am I not afraid of miscarrying in this under- 
 taken voyage, by shipwreck, fyc. ? 
 
 "I.I find little of that fear, I bless God. 
 
 "2. Nor is it that I think I have attained any eminent 
 degree of grace, that I am not afflicted with that fear : nay, 
 more than that, I acknowledge, to be delivered from such fear 
 is itself a great mercy, and gracious vouchsafement. 
 
 " 3. I hope I am in a state of favour and acceptance with 
 God, which I apprehend I owe to infinite rich mercy in the 
 Redeemer's blood. Great forgiveness I need, for I am a 
 miserable sinful wretch : this I trust I have upon gospel terms. 
 
 " 4. It is pleasant to me hereupon to think of going into 
 eternity ; of laying down the body of flesh, and sin, and death,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 107 
 
 together ; and of being perfectly holy, and associated with 
 them that are so, in holy work and enjoyment. 
 
 " 5. To put off this tabernacle so easily, I reckon would to 
 me be a merciful dispensation, who am more afraid of sharp 
 pains than of death. I think I should joyfully embrace those 
 waves that should cast me on an undesigned shore, and, when 
 I intended Liverpool, should land me in heaven. 
 
 " 6. Yet I bless God I have no weariness of life, nor of his 
 work, in this world, if he shall yet please further to employ me 
 here. 
 
 " IV. Quaere But am I not solicitous, lest if this should prove 
 the event, it will be judged a testimony against me, as to this 
 present undertaking ? 
 
 " 1. It is an honest design I go upon. I have, as I said, no 
 selfish design that oversways me in it. I have no design to 
 prejudice Mr. Charnock. I believe I shall do him no actual 
 prejudice. Wherein I can justly befriend him, I go resolved 
 to do it. If I can do anything for the holding of the remain- 
 der together, without the neglect of greater work, I do appre- 
 hend I shall do a just and needful thing ; but should do nothing 
 if I had opportunity, till I knew more. But, 
 
 "2. To judge of the justice of a cause by the success, is a 
 most unjust way of judging. Many a just business has mis- 
 carried. If I get well into the other world, such censures will 
 be a small matter in my eye ; and they are not great now. 
 
 " 3. God will accept my sincere intentions, though I effect 
 nothing. 
 
 " 4. My journey was to me absolutely necessary, who could 
 without it neither grant nor deny. 
 
 " Consolations to my wife and other relations, supposing they hear 
 
 of my death. 
 
 " 1 . Whom or what have you lost ? A poor creature that 
 could never be of much use to you. 
 
 " 2. You are to consider me, not as lost in my prime, but 
 as now I am, sensibly under great decays, and not likely to 
 continue long, except some means hitherto not thought on 
 should have been tried. What a summer had I of the last ! 
 seldom able to walk the streets ; and not only often disabled 
 by pain, but weakness. And what great advantage to you
 
 108 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 would it have been to see me die ? I know not when I have 
 had so much ease and health as in this journey. 
 
 " 3. God not only hath determined the thing, we must die, 
 but all circumstances, when and where, and after what manner, 
 and all wisely and well. Why should you be grieved, that he 
 hath done well ? not only well in itself, but well for you, if 
 you love him ? 
 
 " 4. You must ere long follow, and shall not be always in 
 this world without me. 
 
 " 5. What there is of evil in this case, admits of remedy. 
 Draw so much nearer to God, and cease from man : mind 
 heaven more, and your loss is made up. 
 
 " 6. I have, through the grace of God, preached immortal 
 truth, which will survive, and may be to your advantage. 
 
 " 7. As to you who have dependence upon me for worldly 
 concernments : I was never a good projector for the world ; so 
 the loss is not great. How many, dear to God, make a shift, 
 in a worse condition ! Forget not the motto, ' God will pro- 
 vide/ He that feeds ravens, and takes care of sparrows, will 
 he not take care of you ? Are you of his family, and will he 
 not take care of his own ? Instead of distrust and repining, 
 give thanks. Oh bless him with all your soul, that he hath 
 revealed and given himself to you for an everlasting portion ; 
 and whose covenant is to be your God, and the God of yours. 
 
 " 8. Let it be some satisfaction to you, that I go willingly, 
 under no dread, with no regret, but with some comfortable 
 knowledge of my way and end/' 
 
 Who can read these musings of an upright and conscientious 
 mind without the deepest admiration ? It is true that in the 
 minuteness of this self-examination, and the precision and 
 formality with which it is prosecuted, we are reminded of the 
 excessive scrupulosity of the times, and of the too systematic 
 method in which the spiritual casuist was in the habit of treat- 
 ing "cases of conscience," as they were called. In the present 
 instance, it may, perhaps, be admitted that Howe need not 
 have inquired so industriously, whether he was likely to be 
 swayed in a transaction so important by the fear of shipwreck,* 
 or by the uncharitable judgments which others might form of 
 him, if he should be shipwrecked. f It might be justly con- 
 
 * As in Query III. t As in Query IV.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 109 
 
 tended, that considerations such as these could not have had 
 much influence on his final decision ; or that, if they operated 
 as motives at all, it was in a degree so very slight as not to 
 entitle them to a formal investigation.* Yet, though there 
 may be in these passages a little too much of the superfluous 
 minuteness and self-suspicion, which were so characteristic of 
 the age, who could wish to blot them out ? What an enviable 
 state of mind do they manifest ! How especially beautiful is 
 that sentence : " I think I should joyfully embrace those 
 waves that should cast me on an undesigned shore, and when 
 I intended Liverpool, should land me in heaven." 
 
 As a whole, none can read this soliloquy of a sensitive 
 conscience, without feeling convinced that to Howe (as stated 
 in the introductory chapter), duty was a study. To ascertain 
 conscientiously in every case what duty was, and to perform 
 it from the right motives, were evidently the great objects of 
 his life ; and rapid, indeed, is the progress in holiness and 
 virtue likely to be, when, in every important step in life, 
 . motives and conduct are subjected to such a severe and rigid 
 scrutiny. 
 
 Nor is it less to the purpose to remark that there is nothing 
 in the above self-examination, scrupulous as it is, which 
 betrays the slightest taint of a fanatical spirit. There is no 
 pretence to superhuman purity of motive no fond disclaimer 
 of human feelings and passions : if these last be but innocent, 
 Howe seeks not their extinction, nor even that they should 
 not be duly gratified ; he is only anxious that they should be 
 in their proper place ; strongly subordinated to higher and 
 more important principles of action.f 
 
 The fourth and fifth paragraphs (Query IY.) are very 
 beautiful ; the modesty they display, the humility, the purity of 
 
 * Still something may be said in his defence even with reference to these, 
 points. With regard to the first, it is not to be forgotten that a voyage from 
 Ireland was not in those days the trifle it would be considered now ; and with 
 regard to the second, proof is but too abundant, that in defiance alike of 
 common sense, daily experience, and Christian charity, the ordinary calamities 
 of life were, in those tunes, too often considered special judicial marks of the 
 Divine displeasure. 
 
 t See close of observations on Query I.
 
 110 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 feeling, the superiority to every form of petty vanity, the secret 
 dissatisfaction at human applause (arising from the exalted 
 conceptions he had formed of absolute excellence, combined 
 with his consciousness that he was still so very far from having 
 reached that standard,) are calculated to inspire the liveliest 
 admiration. The confessions of his own unworthiness which 
 are contained in these passages, entirely free, as they are, 
 from every symptom of affectation, and evidently never in- 
 tended for any eye but his own, only endear him to us the 
 more ; and, as we read them, we feel that in this, as in other 
 and more important respects, those words of Christ are true, 
 " He that humbleth himself shall be exalted." 
 
 After staying some time in London, and giving the whole 
 subject mature deliberation, he resolved on accepting the 
 invitation which he had received from Dr. Seaman's congre- 
 gation. He, in consequence, shortly after removed with his 
 family from Antrim Castle, deeply grateful for the protection 
 its noble owner had afforded him. With Lord and Lady 
 Massarene, he maintained a friendly intercourse till their 
 death in 1695. In 1676, the year after his departure, their 
 daughter Mary was married to Sir Charles Hoghton, of 
 Hoghton Tower, in the county of Lancaster ; on which 
 occasion, Howe addressed the newly wedded pair in the 
 following characteristic letters, written on the same sheet of 
 paper. They bear no date, but the marriage itself determines 
 it. 
 
 "Most honoured Sir, 
 
 " I thankfully acknowledge the favour of your wel- 
 come lines, which ought to be most entirely so, both upon the 
 account of the author and the matter of them. For though 
 my opportunity for so desirable an acquaintance hath been but 
 little as to the circumstance, it hath been much as to the 
 substance of what I know of you, in ways that gave me 
 greatest assurance, before I had the happiness of oral converse 
 with you. Nor could anything be more grateful to me, than 
 to read you from your own hand so related, and so well 
 pleased (as I doubt not you will be daily more and more) with 
 your relation, and the other accessory correlates, with whom 
 God hath cast your lot.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. Ill 
 
 ' ' I believe you have much reason to bless God (who orders 
 all things to the best advantage to such as sincerely give 
 themselves up to his conduct,) that he led you not into such 
 a condition and state of life as he now at length hath brought 
 you into, before you were well acquainted with the rules and 
 duties of it, better than to need help from such a one as I. 
 But among the many other precepts that concern that case, 
 I dare adventure to recommend those of 1 Cor. vii. 29, 30, 31, 
 and pursuantly thereto, to offer to your thoughts, that this can 
 be but a partial temporary felicity, and so far only so at all, as 
 it is enjoyed only as mediate and subservient to the full and 
 final felicity, which we are professedly seeking and waiting 
 for ; so far ought it to be, to oppose it, or let it be an obstruc- 
 tion thereto : which is the nature of all good things that have 
 only the goodness of the means, and not of the end, that their 
 goodness is variable, and by misapplication may degenerate 
 into a hurtful evil. Within the compass of such things is the 
 truth of those words to be confined : Nil prodest quod non 
 Icedere possit idem. It is beyond the measure of any created 
 good to be universally so. That therefore which in its own 
 place is a real good, applied to the particular purpose which it 
 is capable of serving, out of that place, and being trusted, 
 valued, and delighted in beyond the measure which God and 
 the nature of the thing have stated and set, may become a hurt 
 to us. 
 
 " But there can be no greater or more endearing obligation 
 to use any mercy for God, than an habitual fixed sense of its 
 having been received from him, and a deeply radicated and 
 often repeated agnition of his sovereign hand in ordering it to 
 be our lot, with all the circumstances that have had any refer- 
 ence thereto. For what ingenuous heart can endure to oppose 
 to him, or employ against him, the (apprehended) fruit of 
 his own favour and kindness ? a pledge of his paternal love 
 and care so understood ? And therefore the greater the gift 
 is (still considered under that strict notion) the stronger is the 
 inducement to honour and serve the giver with it, and to 
 enjoy according to his prescription, what we enjoy not but by 
 his vouchsafement. 
 
 " If to all this I should add a request to you to be exceeding 
 kind to my most dear and honoured friend, it were the greatest 
 impertinence in all the world. For she, having such a temper 
 to work upon, will make you so whether you will or no : and I 
 might as well use arguments to persuade a fragrant flower to
 
 112 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 send forth its grateful odours, when a most benign orient sun 
 is plying it with its cherishing morning beams. Such may 
 you long be, both of you mutually (sun and flower) to each 
 other, shining and flourishing with all the influence, and under 
 the continual blessing of Heaven. So shall you communicate 
 a part of that joy, which I most entirely wish you, to 
 
 " Sir, 
 " Your very faithful and affectionate humble Servant, 
 
 "J. HOWE/' 
 
 " Whatsoever leisure, most dear and honoured Madam, you 
 may suppose me to have, I had little reason to suppose Sir 
 Charles and yourself to have much, from the reading of one 
 another, to cast your eyes upon anything I could write. But 
 if after this paper shall have lain one quarter of a year some- 
 where near your dressing-box, you find it not unseasonable to 
 bestow a glance upon it, you will then at length find your 
 disappointment. For it will tell you nothing but what you 
 well knew, or might easily guess before ; that having a con- 
 stant most affectionate respect and honour for you, I cannot 
 but be highly pleased that you are so [happy] . 
 
 " And methinks it should not much surprise you, if I further 
 say, I would have you somewhat to alter (or make your ex- 
 ception to) your own rule, and not show the less kindness to 
 Sir Charles for that he is a married man. This will not be 
 strange to you, if you remember some of your last winter lines. 
 
 " After this hath made you smile a little, as that of yours 
 did me, then think that this novelty in your condition will 
 neither make nor allow you to smile always, though I hope it 
 will add a great deal to the comfort and pleasantness of your 
 
 days. And you may sometimes have occasion to think 
 
 seriously together, of the sense of those words, Luke xiv. 26. 
 And always .remember the subordination that all creature- 
 love must be in, to that of the supreme object of our love. 
 How pleasant a thing will it be to have hearts united and 
 consenting in the resolution of loving him perpetually above 
 all, to whom we owe our all, and who is altogether lovely ! 
 to consult and conspire together, how most to promote his 
 interest, and improve in acquaintance with him, and confor- 
 mity to him. This I believe your heart to be much formed 
 to beforehand. The great care must be, that such resolutions 
 do not gradually languish. We find many are apt by un- 
 observed degrees to starve the good affections and inclinations
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 113 
 
 which they would abhor to assassinate by a sadden violence. I 
 write securely, that such an intimation will by so great a kind- 
 ness as yours, be very well taken, from 
 " Your Ladyship's 
 
 " Most affectionate humble Servant, 
 
 "J.Howi/ 1 
 
 During the time Howe was in Ireland, King Charles had 
 published his celebrated " Declaration of Indulgence."* Cal- 
 amy says, that upon his return to London, he " made a quiet 
 and peaceable use of this indulgence." This, however, must 
 be an error, for the Declaration was revoked in the spring of 
 1673 ; that is, as soon as Charles wanted his next subsidy. 
 For such a cause, he would have been willing to repeal the 
 whole decalogue. ( 
 
 It is quite true, however, that it still served in some measure 
 to protect the nonconformists, as it tended to diminish the 
 hostility of those who had more reverence for the royal prero- 
 gative than for the two Houses of Parliament. Amongst these 
 persons (as Baxter assures us) might be reckoned a large 
 number of the magistrates, whose loyalty for once was happily 
 at variance with their bigotry. Although, therefore, the recall 
 of the Indulgence left the nonconformists in fact exposed to 
 all the severe laws which had been enacted against them, their 
 condition was upon the whole somewhat ameliorated. If we 
 may believe Calamy,t the liberty which Charles's Indulgence 
 gave them, was not entirely lost, though constantly diminish- 
 ing, till the year 1681. 
 
 The reasons which prompted Charles to put forth this In- 
 dulgence, as well as the history of its recall, are well known. 
 
 As to the first, suffice it to say, that the whole history of 
 Charles's reign, and especially his conduct in 1675, preclude 
 the charitable suspicion that he was actuated by the slightest 
 regard to the principles of toleration, or that he was visited by 
 any foolish feelings of remorse on account of his past severities. 
 In all such respects Charles II. was one of the most consistent 
 of mankind. 
 
 * 1672. t Life and Times, vol. i. p. 72.
 
 114 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 His true reason seems to have been the same which, a few 
 years after, led to a similar measure on the part of that miser- 
 able dotard, James II. It was an anxiety to exempt the 
 Papists from persecution. 
 
 The Indulgence was no sooner published, than it was 
 vehemently opposed by both Houses of Parliament, on the just 
 ground that to dispense with any existing laws on the sole 
 authority of the Crown, was an invasion of the rights of the 
 legislature, and an unwarrantable and dangerous stretch of the 
 royal prerogative. Accordingly, when Charles stood in need 
 of his next subsidy, it was revoked. 
 
 While the Indulgence was in force, however, one would 
 think that all the nonconformists might have gladly availed 
 themselves of it. Yet, strange to say, some of them, in tho 
 excess of their scrupulosity, doubted whether they would be 
 justified in resuming those sacred rights of which neither kings 
 nor parliament could justly deprive them, in a manner so in- 
 formal ! Had they, indeed, been called upon to justify the 
 unwarrantable extension of the prerogative, or to acknowledge 
 that their privileges might be granted or resumed at the King's 
 pleasure, the case would have been different. But they were 
 called to do nothing of the kind. All that was necessary, was 
 to avail themselves of a happy accident ; to resume a natural 
 right, which no law of man could righteously invade ; leaving 
 the King and Parliament in the meantime to settle their dis- 
 putes as they best could. Their conduct was almost as absurd 
 as that of a man who, having been most unjustly imprisoned, 
 and finding his oppressors quarrelling about the propriety of 
 detaining him, should consult his conscience, whether he could 
 rightfully step out at the door which in their dispute they had 
 left open, or avail himself of such an unusual method of regain- 
 ing his freedom. It is such instances of perverse scrupulosity 
 as these that give edge, because they give some plausible 
 appearance of truth, to the bitter satire of Butler : 
 
 " The self-same thing they will abhor 
 One way, and long another for. 
 Free-will they one way disavow; 
 Another, nothing else allow.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 115 
 
 Rather than fail, they will defy 
 That which they love most tenderly ; 
 Quarrel with minced pies, and disparage 
 Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge."* 
 
 Howe was not plagued with any of this excessive conscien- 
 tiousness. He on this, and every subsequent occasion, appears 
 to have eagerly availed himself of every fair opportunity of 
 securing his own peace and fulfilling the great ends of his 
 public ministry. 
 
 Such was the regard which his talents, learning, and worth 
 conciliated, that his nonconformity did not prevent his being 
 on the most intimate terms with many who already were, or 
 who afterwards became, some of the most distinguished orna- 
 ments of the Establishment. Amongst others may be mentioned 
 Stillingfleet, afterwards Bishop of Worcester; Tillotson, after- 
 wards Archbishop of Canterbury ; Sharp, afterwards Arch- 
 bishop of York ; Drs. Whichcot, Kidder, Fowler, and Lucas. 
 
 Very soon after his removal to London, appeared the first 
 part of his largest and most celebrated work, " The Living 
 Temple." It was prepared, as already mentioned, during his 
 residence at Antrim Castle ; and on this account is, with great 
 propriety, dedicated to the " Lord Viscount Massarene, gover- 
 nor of the county of Londonderry, and one of the Lords of His 
 Majesty's most honourable Privy Council in the kingdom of 
 Ireland." The dedications of that age, in general, were con- 
 ceived in the spirit of the grossest and most fulsome adulation, 
 and it is often hard to say who were the more contemptible, 
 the authors who could compose or the patrons who could relish 
 them.f Those of Howe were of a more manly stamp ; although 
 it must be confessed, that even he is sometimes a little infected 
 with the complimentary folly of the times. 
 
 * Hudibras, part i. canto 1. 
 
 f There is often a whimsical contrast between the dedications of that age 
 and the works to which they are prefixed ; especially when those works turn 
 on any of the more fiercely agitated points of controversy. The spirit of the 
 one is so bland and gentle, that it would seem as though the author could not 
 by possibility drop a harsh or uncourteous word ; that of the other so coarse 
 and savage, that malignity and scorn would appear to be the only elements in 
 his composition. In passing from the one to the other, the sensation is much 
 the same as though, in taking a draught of some excessively sweet and luscious 
 liquor, it had, by some magical process of acetation, been all at once turned into 
 verjuice.
 
 116 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 This Dedication, however, is so full of noble thoughts, ex- 
 pressed in a style so manly, that its length alone prevents me 
 from inserting it entire, nor should any reader enter the 
 " Temple " itself without pausing in its vestibule. One short 
 but characteristic passage I shall extract. 
 
 "But as this temple is quite of another constitution and 
 make, than that at Jerusalem, and (to use those words of the 
 sacred writer) a^eipoiroirjro^, rovrea-riv, ov ravrr)^ rfjs KTieews 
 ' not made with hands, that is to say, not of this building/ so 
 what is requisite to the interest and service of it, is much of 
 another nature. Entire devotedness to God, sincerity, humility, 
 charity, refinedness from the dross and baseness of the earth, 
 strict sobriety, dominion of one's self, mastery over impotent 
 and ignominious passions, love of justice, a steady propen- 
 sion to do good, delight in doing it, have contributed more to 
 the security and beauty of God's temple on earth, conferred on 
 it more majesty and lustre, done more to procure it room and 
 reverence among men, than the most prosperous violence 
 ever did."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FKOM 1677 TO 1678. 
 
 ANDBEW MABVELL'S DEFENCE OF HOWE, AGAINST THOMAS DANSON'S ATTACK ON THE 
 TBEATISE OF " DIVINE PBESCIENCE." 
 
 AS the following chapter will probably contain little to in. 
 terest the general reader, I may apprize him that it may 
 be omitted without impairing the continuity of the narrative, 
 since it is almost wholly parenthetical. 
 
 If the reader should chance to belong to that class, who, 
 when they have once been induced to commence a volume, 
 make it a point of conscience no matter what its bulk, or 
 how repulsive its contents to read right on from the title- 
 page to the end, and on whom, I well know, all premonitions 
 of the ruggedness or inconveniences of the road would be 
 totally lost, even for such there is consolation : the chapter 
 will be a brief one. 
 
 But to the curious in literary history, and to the admirers 
 of Andrew MarvelFs genius, I feel that no apology is neces- 
 sary. They will probably think a chapter which has in it so 
 much of Andrew Marvell, and so little of the author, by far 
 the most interesting in the volume. 
 
 That I may not detain them, therefore, from matter which 
 I know will be so much more grateful to them than any 
 observations of mine, I shall simply beg their attention to a 
 short detail of the circumstances which led to the curious 
 publication from which the following extracts are made, and 
 then dismiss them, to enjoy those extracts at their leisure. 
 I would merely remark further, by way of whetting their ap- 
 petite, that the tract in question is extremely rare ; that it is 
 not published in any edition of Marvell's works, and was 
 evidently unknown to his biographers and editors. I know
 
 118 LIVE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of only one copy in existence the one from which the sub- 
 joined extracts have been transcribed.* This I procured from 
 Dr. Williams' library. 
 
 In 1677, Howe, at the request of the Hon. Eobert Boyle, 
 published his little treatise, entitled, " The Reconcilableness 
 of God's Prescience of the Sins of Men with the Wisdom and 
 Sincerity of His Counsels and Exhortations, and whatever 
 other means He uses to prevent them/' The motives which 
 induced him to write it are given in the following short pre- 
 fatory letter to his illustrious friend : 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " The veneration I have long had for your name, 
 could not permit me to apprehend less obligation than that of 
 a law, in your recommending to me this subject. For within 
 the whole compass of intellectual employment and affairs, none 
 but who are so unhappy as not at all to know you, would dis- 
 pute your right to prescribe, and give law. And taking a 
 nearer view of the province you have assigned me, I must 
 esteem it alike both disingenuous and undutiful wholly to 
 have refused it. For the less you could think it possible to 
 me to perform in it, the more I might perceive of kindness, 
 allaying the authority of the imposition; and have the ap- 
 prehension the more obvious to me that you rather designed 
 in it mine own advantage, than that you reckoned the cause 
 could receive any, by my undertaking it." 
 
 Admirable as the tract is, it appears the author composed 
 it under very disadvantageous circumstances ; and for its 
 supposed defects, he offers at the close the following needless 
 apology : 
 
 "The disorder, Sir, of this heap rather than frame of 
 thoughts and discourse, as it cannot be thought more unsuit- 
 able to the subject, than suitable to the author ; and the less 
 displease, by how much it could less be expected to be other- 
 wise, from him, even in the best circumstances ; so it may lay 
 some claim to your easier pardon, as having been, mostly, 
 huddled up in the intervals of a troublesome, long journey ; 
 
 * This rare tract has since been reprinted, together with Howe's treatise 
 which evoked it, by my late excellent and venerated friend, Dr. John Brown , 
 of Edinburgh, in a series of " Theological Tracts." Vol. iii. pp. 75-138. 
 Edin. 1854.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 119 
 
 wherein he was rather willing to take what opportunity the 
 inconveniencies and hurry of it could allow him, than neglect 
 any, of using the earliest endeavour to approve himself as he 
 is your great admirer 
 
 " Most honoured Sir, 
 " Your most obedient, humble Servant." 
 
 All remarks on this treatise will be reserved for the critical 
 estimate at the close of the volume. Its history, as serving 
 to illustrate that of its author, is the sole subject of the present 
 chapter. 
 
 The views which this tract contains are so sober and chas- 
 tened, that Anthony Wood who, by the way, was about as 
 competent a judge of such a question, as a mere antiquary 
 would be of a question of science proclaims the author a a 
 great and strict Arminian." 
 
 It could hardly be expected, therefore, that it would satisfy 
 those who held extreme opinions on the subject of the Divine 
 predetermination, and it was, accordingly, attacked by no less 
 than three writers. The first was Theophilus Gale, who in- 
 serted some animadversions in the fourth and last part of his 
 celebrated work, "The Court of the Gentiles." To these 
 animadversions Howe himself replied, in a postscript to his 
 treatise, in which he exposes the false logic, and, what is worse, 
 the glaring misstatements of his adversary. A second assail- 
 ant was an ejected minister, named John Troughton. His 
 initials only are prefixed to his piece, which professes to be 
 a reply not only to Howe's original treatise, but to the post- 
 script also.* The third was Thomas Danson, also an ejected 
 minister. He had been an intimate friend and fellow-collegiate 
 of Howe's, for which reason he also affixed only his initials to 
 the title-page. f 
 
 To neither of these latter opponents did Howe publish any 
 
 * It is entitled, " A Letter to a Friend, touching God's Prescience about Sin- 
 ful Actions." 12mo. 1678. 
 
 t It is entitled, " De Causfi, Dei ; or a Vindication of the Common Doctrine of 
 Protestant Divines concerning Predetermination, viz. ' The Interest of God, as 
 the first Cause, in all the Actions, as such, of rational Creatures,' from the in- 
 vidious Consequences with which it is burthened by Mr. John Howe, in a late 
 Letter and Postscript of God's Prescience, by T. D." 1(578.
 
 120 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 reply. As to Danson, his little book was not only most illogi- 
 cal, and full of misconception and misrepresentation, but dis- 
 played much arrogance and vanity ; and these considerations 
 alone would probably have deterred Howe from breaking 
 silence. He would have been, in the last degree, unwilling to 
 say anything in a case in which, if he had spoken at all, he 
 must have spoken with an unwonted, and, to him, ungrateful 
 severity. 
 
 But though Howe himself was silent, a very sufficient cham- 
 pion voluntarily undertook his defence. This was no less than 
 Andrew Marvell. 
 
 If not distinguished by any extraordinary aptitude for meta- 
 physical speculation, this great man at least possessed a clear, 
 sound, healthy understanding ; and, in more than ordinary 
 measure, that practical sagacity, which admirably qualified 
 him for appreciating the character and detecting the sophistry 
 of an over-subtle and trifling disputant. 
 
 Much subtlety of reasoning was not what the case principally 
 required. Marvell had what was much more effective in such 
 a controversy ; the wit and sarcasm which had so often chas- 
 tised ignorance, insolence, and vanity. 
 
 It is highly honourable to Marvell that his extraordinary 
 powers of satire, (powers which are so often employed to gratify 
 malignity of feeling, or at the best an ostentatious vanity,) 
 were in his case never employed except in the cause of truth 
 or oppressed innocence. He reminds one of Spenser's Talus, 
 the attendant of Arthegal, "that yron man" whose terrible 
 severities were meted out with the strictest justice, and never 
 descended except on the head of flagrant crime. 
 
 " His name was Talus, made of yron mould, 
 Immoveable, resistless, without end ; 
 Who in his hand an yron flail did hold, 
 With which he threshed out falsehood and did truth unfold." 
 
 Spenser's Fairy Queen. Book V. canto i. 
 
 But though Marvell never employed his powers of wit and 
 sarcasm for any selfish purpose, and seemed quite willing, as 
 far as his own fame went, to let them slumber for ever in the 
 cloud, any impudent assault on innocence and virtue, any extra-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 121 
 
 ordinary display of tyranny, meanness, fraud, or falsehood, 
 never failed to provoke the bolts of this great avenger. All 
 his principal productions owed their origin solely to his chival 
 rous love of truth, justice, and honour. It was thus with his 
 greatest work, " The Rehearsal Transprosed," against Parker; 
 with his " Defence of the Naked Truth," against the flippant 
 and conceited Francis Turner; and with his present tract 
 against Dan son. 
 
 This tract is entitled, " Eemarks on a late disingenuous 
 Discourse, written by one T. D., under the pretence ' De Causa 
 Dei/ and of answering Mr. John Howe's letter and postscript 
 of ' God's Prescience/ etc., affirming as the Protestant doctrine, 
 ' That God doth by efficacious influence universally move and 
 determine men to all their actions, even to those that are most 
 wicked/ By a Protestant/'* 
 
 From the more strictly argumentative parts of this tract, I 
 shall refrain from making any extracts. They could not be 
 fully understood without making large extracts from Danson's 
 work ; and with any considerable portion of that publication I 
 should be sorry to try the patience of my readers. 
 
 The tract opens with the following noble reflections on the 
 unprofitable questions which often occupy speculative theology. 
 
 * Wood (" Athenas Oxonienses," Edition Bliss, vol. iv.) says, in the account 
 of Thomas Danson, " This book," speaking of the tract against Howe, "hath 
 only the initial letters T. D. set to it, because it was written against his intimate 
 friend and fellow-collegiate. Afterwards came out a book entitled, ' Eemarks 
 upon a late disingenuous Discourse, writ by one T. D., London, 1678,' said to be 
 by ' A Protestant,' but whether by John Howe, query." This sage query shows 
 that Wood could never have seen Marvell's Tract, or he would never have been 
 at a loss for an answer to his own interrogatory. It is avowedly written by a 
 layman, with the express purpose of inducing Howe not to engage in the contro- 
 versy ; it is full of his praises from beginning to end ; and has just all those 
 qualities, both of thought and style, of which he was most destitute. 
 
 But though it was certainly not written by Howe, this, it may be said, does 
 not prove it to have been written by Marvell. I grant it : that is to be deter- 
 mined by other evidence. That the tract was, in Marvell's day, universally and 
 undoubtingly ascribed to him, appears from Calamy, who says without the slightest 
 qualification, " Mr. Danson also wrote against this tract, but I know not that 
 Mr. Howe took any notice of him ; though the ingenious Andrew Marvell, Esq., 
 made a very witty and entertaining reply to him." The point, however, would 
 be sufficiently clear, even if this testimony were wanting. The internal evi- 
 dence alone would decide it. None who are in the slighest degree acquainted 
 with Andrew Marvell's peculiar vein of humour, can mistake any half-dozen 
 pages as the composition of any other author.
 
 122 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 To the sagacious and practical mind of Andrew Marvell, a man 
 engaged all his life in public affairs, such questions were likely 
 to appear in all their frivolity. He thus begins : 
 
 " Of all vocations to which men addict themselves, or are 
 dedicated, I have always esteemed that of the ministry to be 
 the most noble and happy employment ; as being more pecu- 
 liarly directed to those two great ends, the advancement of 
 God's glory, and the promoting of man's salvation. It hath 
 seemed to me as if they who have chosen, and are set apart 
 for that work, did, by the continual opportunity of conversing 
 with their Maker, enjoy a state like that of pai'adise ; and in 
 this superior, that they are not also, as Adam, put in, ' to 
 di'ess and keep a garden;.' but are, or ought to be, exempt 
 from the necessity of all worldly avocations. Yet, upon 
 nearer consideration, they likewise appear to partake of the 
 common infelicities of human condition. For, although they 
 do not, as others, eat their bread in the sweat of their brows, 
 (which some Divines account to be, though in the pulpit, 
 undecent,) yet the study of their brain is more than equivalent ; 
 and even the theological ground is so far under the curse,, that 
 no field runs out more in thorns and thistles, or requires more 
 pains to disincumber it. Such I understand to be those peevish 
 questions which have overgrown Christianity; wherewith men's 
 minds are only rent and entangled, but from whence they can 
 no more hope for any wholesome nourishment, than to ' gather 
 grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles/ And (if I may so 
 far pursue the allegory) this curse upon divinity, as that upon 
 the earth, seems to have proceeded also from tasting that for- 
 bidden fruit, of the ' tree of knowledge of good and evil/ For, 
 in general, many Divines, out of a vain affectation of learning, 
 have been tempted into inquiries too curious, after those things 
 which the wisdom of God hath left impervious to human under- 
 standing, further than they are revealed. And hence, instead 
 of those allowed and obvious truths of faith, repentance, and 
 the new creature, (yet these too have their proper weeds that 
 pester them,) there have sprung up endless disputes concerning 
 the unsearchable things of God, and which are agitated by men, 
 for the most part, with such virulence and intricacy, as mani- 
 fest the subtlety and malice of the serpent that hath seduced 
 them. But, more particularly, that very knowledge of good 
 and evil, the disquisition of the causes from whence, and in 
 what manner they are derived, hath been so grateful to the
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 123 
 
 controversial female appetite, that even the Divines have taken 
 of it as ( a fruit to be desired to make them wise/ and given to 
 their people, and they have both eaten, at the peril of God's 
 displeasure and their own happiness. Whereas that second 
 chapter of Genesis contains the plain history of good and evil, 
 and (not to mention so manyattestations to it of the Old and New 
 Testament) what other comment needs there, for what belongs to 
 good, than that it is from God only, 'that every good giving, and 
 every perfect gift descendeth ? ' And, as to evil, that also of St. 
 James is sufficient conviction, ' Let no man say, when he is 
 tempted, I was tempted of God ; God cannot be tempted with 
 evil, neither tempteth he any man t but every man is tempted, 
 when he is drawn aside by his own lusts and enticed/ Or that 
 of the same apostle, ' From whence come wars and fightings 
 among you ? ' (and even that Logomachia, I fear, with which 
 this question is vexed,), ' Come they not hence ? even from your 
 lusts that fight in your members/ And there is no examining 
 Christian but must find both these truths evidently witnessed 
 by his own conscience. 
 
 "Nevertheless, the theologians of former and later times, 
 not content with what is held forth in Scripture, have attempted 
 to clamber and palm up higher,, by the philosophy of that 
 school where each of them hath first practised, and have drawn 
 God's prescience and predetermination, upon this occasion, 
 into debate ; arguing upon such points as no man, unless he 
 were prior and precedent to the First Cause, can have the 
 understanding to comprehend and judge of i and most of them 
 do but say and unsay y and, while in words they all deny God 
 to be the author of sin, yet in effect and by the manner of their 
 reasoning they affirm it > I, therefore, being both apprehensive 
 of the danger of such arguments, and more particularly conscious 
 of mine own weakness, shall not presume to interpose my 
 opinion in the differences about this matter, further than to 
 say; that if men, by this fancied ' opening of their eyes,' 
 have attained to see more clearly, and acknowledge the wicked- 
 ness of their own actions, it resembles the modesty of our first 
 parents discerning their 'nakedness:' but, if men shall also 
 assert a predeterminative concourse of God to our evil, it seems 
 to have too much of original perverseness, and of that fallen, 
 shortness of reason, whereby they would have found a nudity 
 in the Creator, and did implicitly reject their fault upon him, 
 for the ' serpent that he had made,' and the ' woman that he 
 had given/
 
 124 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " But, if any man there be that can reconcile this contro- 
 versy, and so many more that arise out of it; (for all the most 
 important doctrines of Christianity serve on the one side, and 
 all the fiercest questions of religion on the other, depending 
 for truth and falsehood upon the success of this engagement;) 
 if he can extinguish all those ill consequences, dull distinctions, 
 and inconsistent notions, which have been levied in this quarrel, 
 and reduce each party within the due limits of Scripture and 
 saving knowledge; such a person indeed deserves all com- 
 mendation. And such an one I thought I had met with, nor 
 yet see reason, notwithstanding all the late attempts upon 
 him, to alter my opinion; in a book entitled, /The Eeconcil- 
 ableness of God's Prescience of the Sins of Men, with the 
 Wisdom and Sincerity of his Counsels, Exhortations, and 
 whatsoever other means he uses to prevent them. In a Letter 
 to the Honourable Robert Boyle, Esquire ; ' and in a ' Post- 
 script to the late Letter of the Reconcilableness of God's Pre- 
 science, by John Howe, the Author of that letter/ " 
 
 These observations are followed (for Marvell could not long 
 maintain so grave a strain) by some good-humoured banter on 
 Howe's apology for the haste with which his work had been 
 written : after which, he suddenly drops his ironical vein, and 
 breaks out into expressions of the most ardent admiration, both 
 of Howe and his performance. 
 
 " Yet there was one passage in the close of his letter, which 
 seemed, as I thought, to lie open to censure ; where he asked 
 pardon, as ' having huddled it up mostly in the intervals of a 
 troublesome long journey/ It seemed a piece too well elabo- 
 rate to have been perfected amidst the hurry of the road, the 
 noise of inns, and the nausea of the packet-boat. And how 
 could he hope, after saying this, in so captious an age as we 
 live, to escape some reflection ? but that at least men would 
 inquire whether he went by stage-coach, or on horseback; both 
 which are professed enemies to meditation and judgment ? (for 
 it is probable he had not that ancient accommodation of horse- 
 litters, wherein, without any impediment to their thoughts, 
 men travelled with all the privacy and equipage of a closet :) 
 whether he had not lost his way, or fallen among thieves, and 
 how he found himself after his journey ? with all the questions 
 that men are subject to at their arrival home, and which, even 
 when asked in civility, yet are troublesome. He might, had it
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 125 
 
 not been for the jogging, have remembered how unfortunate 
 most writers have been in such excuses, and what advantage 
 ill-natured men have taken to misinterpret them. So he that 
 apologized for using a foreign tongue, was told, that no man 
 had prohibited him his native language in his own country ; 
 others, alleging that they had at the same time a fit of the 
 stone, gout, or other distemper, have been taxed, as lying under 
 no obligation of publishing their infirmities, but who might, 
 however, have cured themselves of that of writing 
 
 "But, in earnest, this confession of Mr. Howe's is so far 
 from any such arrogance, that it rather argues his modesty. 
 For, if some can even in riding name all the contrary motions, 
 till they have by memory played out a game at chess, (which 
 was first invented as an emblem of predetermination,) why 
 should it be more difficult, or less allowable, to one of Mr. 
 Howe's abilities, in the interruptions of travel, to give a mate 
 also to that question ? The worst therefore that can be said of 
 him, in allusion either to his letter or his journey, is 'at 
 poterat tutior esse domi.' Yet seeing this was the greatest 
 fault that I remarked in reading him over, I would not pass it 
 by without notice, lest I might have cause to suspect myself 
 of a partiality, which I desire not that others should exercise 
 in mine own particular. 
 
 "But for the rest, whereas the things considerable in all dis- 
 courses are the subject, the end, the reasoning, the method, 
 and the style ; I must profess that, as far as I understand, I 
 have met with few manual treatises, that do in all these re- 
 spects equal it. For the subject, it appears in the title ; than 
 which there is none of greater dignity to be handled, or of 
 greater use, if rightly explained and comprehended. And no 
 less is that of predetermination, which he only treats of collate- 
 rally ; and upon which therefore, in hope to find him less pre- 
 pared, he hath been attacked, as in the flank, with most vigour. 
 His end was most commendable, being to make the paths 
 straight, and remove those stumbling-blocks which the asperity 
 of others had laid in the way to heaven ; to rectify men's ap- 
 prehensions concerning God, and leave them without pretence 
 for negligence in their duties, or despair of performance ; much 
 less for despite against the Creator. His arguing then is plain 
 and solid, for evidence, rather than dispute ; nor does he either 
 throw the dust of antique distinctions in the eyes of his 
 readers, to blind them ; or raise the spectres of ancient authors, 
 or conjure their venerable names, to fright men out of their
 
 126 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 senses and understanding ; but declares against all the preju- 
 dice or advantage by such proceeding, as unlawful charms, and 
 prohibited weapons in the controversy. His method thereafter 
 is direct and coherent, his style perspicuous and elegant : so 
 that it is, in short, a manly discourse, resembling much, and 
 expressing, the human perfection ; in the harmony of language, 
 the symmetry of parts, the strength of reason, the excellency 
 of its end, which is so serious, that it is no defect in the simili- 
 tude with man, that the letter contains nothing in it suitable 
 to the property of laughter." 
 
 He then proceeds to give the following ludicrous account of 
 Dan son's reply : 
 
 "All which put together, and although it does and must 
 everywhere partake also of human imperfection, the treatise on 
 'Divine Prescience' might have been hoped capable of that 
 civility which men, and especially learned men, but most of all 
 Divines, do usually, or should allow, one another: that it 
 should not be made ridiculous, being writ in so good earnest ; 
 nor assaulted, being so inoffensive; much less that it should 
 be defaced, mutilated, stabbed in so many places, and the 
 author through it, which is even in writing a kind of felony. 
 Yet this hath been its misfortune in a rencounter with an im- 
 modest and hectoring discourse, pretending to the title, * De 
 Causa Dei ; or a Vindication of the Common Doctrine of Pro- 
 testant Divines concerning Predetermination; namely, the 
 Interest of God, as the First Cause, in all the Actions, as such, 
 of rational Creatures; from the invidious Consequences with 
 which it is burthened by Mr. John Howe, in a late Letter and 
 Postscript of God's Prescience ; by T. D.' By which first 
 letters, seeing it appears that he desires to pass incognito, I 
 will so far observe good manners, as to interpret them only 
 ' The Discourse/ heartily wishing that there were some way of 
 finding it guilty, without reflecting upon the author ; which I 
 shall accordingly endeavour, that I may both preserve his 
 whatsoever former reputation, and leave him a door open to 
 ingenuity for the future. But ' The Discourse ' justifies itself, 
 as if it had been typified by Paul's withstanding Peter to his 
 face, when he came to Antioch, (so easy is it to patronise 
 human passions, under the pretence of the cause of God and 
 apostolical example,), whereas it rather resembles in the bravery, 
 though not in the occasion, that exploit of Peter's, for which
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 127 
 
 our Saviour, though done in his defence, rebuked him ; adding, 
 ' They that take the sword shall perish by the sword : ' and the 
 taking the pen hath seldom better success, if handled in the 
 same manner. I, therefore, having had the leisure to read it 
 over, and thereby the opportunity of a second caution, how the 
 unruly quill is to be managed, have thought that I could not 
 at present render a better account of that time to myself or 
 others, than by publishing these remarks ; that, as Mr. Howe's 
 Letter may serve for a pattern of what is to be imitated, so 
 ' The Discourse ' may remain as a mark {the best use it can be 
 put to) of what ought to be avoided, in all writing of contro- 
 versies, especially by Divines, in those that concern religion. 
 The nature of this matter would admit of no better method, 
 than that the errors observable should be distinguished under 
 several heads, to each of which the particular instances are 
 referred." 
 
 In accordance with the above pretended compassion to- 
 wards the unknown author, he continues throughout to speak 
 only of " The Discourse," not of the author, simply designat- 
 ing his adversary by the contemptuous neuter pronoun " it." 
 
 Such is the introduction to this tract. The author then 
 proceeds to convict " The Discourse " of several different kinds 
 of misstatement, or fallacious reasoning; as "of its trifling 
 and cavilling about words, when they affect not the cause ; of 
 its ignorance and confusion about the matter that is in contro- 
 versy; of its falsifications and fictions of what its opponent 
 hath not said; of its injurious perverting of what he hath 
 said ; of its odious insinuations ; of its violent boasting and 
 self-applause; of its gross absurdities, inconsistencies, self- 
 contradictions, and unsafe expressions ; and of the wrath and 
 virulence of its spirit." 
 
 A few brief extracts will amuse the reader. The following 
 is a ludicrous description of the manner in which his opponent 
 manages to shift the terms of the question, as suited his con- 
 venience. 
 
 " It is a worse thing to adulterate truth than money. The 
 terms of the question are the standard. But at this rate no 
 man can know what is meum or~famm, which is his own hypo- 
 thesis, and which his adversary's, while what he issued in
 
 129 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 current sense and weight is returned him clipped or counter- 
 feit. But the observation of this manner of dealing hath put 
 me upon another thought much differing, and which at first 
 perhaps may seem something extravagant. 
 
 " The camel is a beast admirably shaped for burthen, but so 
 lumpish withal, that nothing can be more inept for feats of 
 activity. Yet men have therefore invented how to make it 
 dance, that, by how much unnatural, the spectacle might ap- 
 pear more absurd and ridiculous. Its keeper leads it upon a 
 pavement so thoroughly warmed, that the creature, not able 
 to escape nor abide it, shifts first one foot, and then another, 
 to relieve itself, and would, if possible, tread the air on all four, 
 the ground being too hot for it to stand upon. He in the 
 meantime traverses and trips about it at a cooler distance, 
 striking some volunteer notes on his Egyptian kit, like a French 
 dancing-master. But, knowing that his scholar is both in too 
 much pain, and too dull to learn his measures, he therefore 
 upon frequent observation accords a tune to its figure and foot- 
 ing, which comes to the same account. So that, after daily 
 repeating the lesson in private, they seem both at last to be 
 agreed upon a new Arabic saraband. Having thus far suc- 
 ceeded, he tries next whether what he taught by torture be not 
 confirmed by custom, and if a cool hearth may not have the 
 like effect. The camel no sooner hears his fiddle, but, as if its 
 ears burned with the music, and its memory were in its feet 
 the animal bestirs forthwith its long legs, and, with many an 
 antic motion and ill-favoured coupe, gratifies the master's pa- 
 tience and expectation. When he finds, upon constant experi- 
 ment, that it never fails him, he thenceforward makes it public, 
 and, having compounded with the master of the revels, shows 
 it, with great satisfaction, to the vulgar, every Bartholomew 
 fair in Grand Cairo. I would not too much vex the similitude, 
 but was run upon this by a resemblance it hath with some, 
 who, not being framed at all for controversy, and finding the 
 question too hot for them, do, by their flinching and shuffling 
 from it, represent a disputation, till it is grown habitual to 
 them, and they change ground as often, and have the same 
 apprehension of the sound of an argument, as the camel of an 
 instrument. 
 
 " And yet ' The Discourse ' hath a fifth loose foot to clap on 
 at need, as if four had not sufficed to prevaricate with." 
 
 The two next extracts exhibit in a very laughable point of
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 129 
 
 view, Danson's affectation of the logical formality and unintel- 
 ligible jargon of the schools. 
 
 " This [argument of Howe] was as plain and distinctly laid 
 out as possible, but must forsooth be cast into a logical figure, 
 where the officiousness argues the fraud; as of those who make 
 false plate, embezzling part of the metal, and yet make the 
 owner pay moreover for the fashion." 
 
 5|C 3|C ?JC 5j 5(C 5f; 
 
 "Yet how much powder is spent without doing the least 
 execution ! First a categorical, then an hypothetical syllogism 
 fired at him ; then forces him to distinguish, which is among 
 disputants next to crying quarter, but will not give it him : 
 runs him through with three replies to his distinction, and 
 leaves him dead upon the place. While the proposition is all 
 this while untouched, Mr. Howe is out of gunshot, and his 
 adversary (if one that only skirmishes with himself, deserves 
 to be called so) is afraid to take aim, and starts merely at the 
 report of his own musket. Thus hath ' The Discourse ' five 
 several times altered the property of the question; which is 
 my fourth instance of its ignorance and confusion about the 
 matter in controversy ; unless it ought to be interpreted as an 
 argument rather of a strong brain, after so many times and 
 suddenly turning round, not to have fallen down senseless." 
 
 " I shall now come to the last instance of this article. Not 
 that I want abundance of more, or might not produce the 
 whole book in evidence, but because it were time that I came 
 to some period. And lest 'The Discourse ' should think I 
 avoided its main strength, I shall there examine it, where it 
 pretends to no less than demonstration. For never was there 
 thing so dreadfully accoutred and armed cap-a-pie in logic, 
 categorical and hypothetical syllogisms, majors, minors, en- 
 thymems, antecedents, consequents, distinctions, definitions, 
 and now at last demonstration, to pin the basket : terms that 
 good Mr. Howe as a mere novice is presumed to be acquainted 
 with." 
 
 ****** 
 
 He apologizes for not pursuing Danson's misrepresentations 
 and fallacies, so far as he might have done, in the following 
 striking image : 
 
 " But I spare my hand, ' The Discourse ' all along boiling 
 
 K
 
 130 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 over, foaming, frothing, and casting forth the like expressions : 
 which I refrain to enumerate, that I may not incur the fate of 
 him that stirs the Indian's poison pot, who when he falls down 
 dead with the steam and stench, they then throw the doors 
 open and dip their arrows." 
 
 The conclusion is truly eloquent, and is all I can afford space 
 to give. In the ludicrous remarks he makes on Howe's three 
 opponents, the readers of Marvell cannot fail to recognise that 
 felicitous readiness of repartee, and that sustained and appa- 
 rently exhaustless humour, by which his wit is so especially 
 characterized. 
 
 " But, however, I hope that I may have done a good work, if 
 upon sight of these remarks, Mr. Howe, though fitted doubtless 
 for a much better and fuller reply, would deliberate before he 
 makes this adversary so considerable as to blot paper on its 
 occasion. Let it, in the meantime, venditate all its street 
 adages, its odd ends of Latin, its broken shreds of poets, and 
 its musty lumber of schoolmen. Let it enjoy the ingenuity of 
 having unprovoked fallen upon a person, 'whose parts it 
 acknowledged/ for whom it ' had such an affection,' with whom 
 it e had so many years' academical society/ and so * long friend- 
 ship : ' but whom it now ' must number among God's adver- 
 saries/ Let it value itself upon these things : for all these 
 considerations do heighten the price of an assassinate. But 
 may Mr. Howe still continue his sobriety, simplicity, and 
 equality of temper ; glorifying God rather in the exercise of 
 practical Christian virtues, than affecting the honour of a 
 speculative question. But if he had a mind to be vindictive, 
 there is no way to despite the adversary more sensibly, than, 
 as clamorous women, by giving them no answer. Till men 
 grow into a better humour, and learn to treat of divinity more 
 civilly, they are unfit for conversation. 
 
 "Another, I see, who is now his third aggressor, hath 
 already assaulted him, though less barbarously, in ' A Letter 
 to a Friend/ etc. Yet even he introduces his book with Job : 
 ' Wilt thou speak wickedly for God, and talk deceitfully for 
 him ? ' What shall Mr. Howe do in this case ? Is the Bible 
 therefore to be turned into a libel ? and shall he search the 
 Scriptures to find out a text equally cutting ? He need not 
 go far, were he of that mind, to retaliate. How easy were the
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 131 
 
 parallel betwixt Job's three friends (to whom those words were 
 spoken) and three such comfortable gentlemen ! And why 
 may not Mr. Howe nick them as well out of Job ? ' But I 
 have understanding as well as you ; I am not inferior to you ; 
 yea, who knoweth not such things as these ? I am as one 
 mocked of his neighbour, who calleth upon God, and he an- 
 swereth him. The just upright man is laughed to scorn/ Or, 
 if he would be yet severer, the same book will hit them home. 
 1 But ye are forgers of lies ; ye are all physicians of no value. 
 Oh that you would altogether hold your peace, and it should 
 be your wisdom/ And then at last, to determine the whole 
 dispute, he might conclude with Job : ' The Lord said to 
 Eliphaz the Temanite, My wrath is kindled against thee, and 
 against thy two friends ; for ye have not spoken of me the 
 thing that is right, as my servant Job hath/ After all which, 
 what more seasonable, in order to reconciliation, than the verse 
 following ? ' Go to my servant Job, and offer up for yourselves 
 a burnt-offering, and my servant Job shall pray for you (for 
 him will I accept), lest I deal, with you after your folly, in that 
 you have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my 
 servant Job hath/ But the word of God is not so to be turned 
 into the reproach of man, though the allusion may seem never 
 so happy j nor have I instanced thus far, otherwise than to 
 show the frivolousness, though too usual, of that practice. 
 
 " But therefore I would advise Mr. Howe, though not to 
 that excusable sullenness and silence, with which some have 
 chastised the world for having used them unworthily ; nor to 
 that tacit contempt of his adversaries, in which he were hither- 
 to justified ; yet, that, having made a laudable attempt, of 
 which several good men are it seems not capable, he would, 
 for peace' sake, either wholly surcease this contest, or forbear 
 at least till they have all done. For it is more easy to deal 
 with them all than single ; and, were they once embodied, 
 come to a consistence among themselves, or had agreed who 
 should speak for them, they had right to his answer. But 
 until then, Mr. Howe is no more obliged in whatsoever is 
 called honour, reason, or conscience, than if every hair of T. D/s 
 that stands on end, should demand particular satisfaction. It 
 is the same for such a divine as he, to turn common disputant, 
 as for an architect to saw timber, or cleave logs ; which, though 
 he may sometimes do it for health or exercise, yet to be constant 
 at it, were to debase and neglect his vocation. Mr. Howe 
 hath work enough cut out of a nobler nature, in his ' Living
 
 132 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Temple/ in which, like that of Solomon, there is 'neither 
 hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron to be heard/ nothing 
 that can offend, all to edify. And this I heartily wish that he 
 may accomplish : but therefore, as he hath not hitherto sought, 
 so that he would avoid all contention ; lest, as David, for having 
 been a man of blood, was forbid to build the temple, so he, as 
 being a man of controversy. 
 
 " As for myself, I expect in this litigious age, that some or 
 other will sue me for having trespassed thus far on theological 
 ground : but I have this for my plea, that I stepped over on 
 no other reason than (which any man legally may do) to hinder 
 one divine from offering violence to another. And, if I should 
 be molested on that account, I doubt not but some of the Pro- 
 testant clergy will be ready therefore to give me the like 
 assistance."
 
 CHAPTER Vll. 
 
 FBOM 1677 TO 1680. 
 
 SEVEBITIES EXERCISED UPON THE NONCONFORMISTS DURING THIS PERIOD HOWE'S 
 EARNEST DESIEE FOR AN ADJUSTMENT OF THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE CHURCH 
 AND THE DISSENTERS THE POPISH PLOT CURIOUS INTERVIEW WITH A CERTAIN 
 NOBLEMAN HIS REPLY TO STILLINGFLEET EXTRACTS HIS EXPOSTULATION WITH 
 TILLOTSON ON HIS SERMON BEFORE THE KING ANOTHER ATTEMPT AT COMPREHEN- 
 SION BILL OF EXCLUSION PROCEEDINGS OF THE PARLIAMENT OF 1680. 
 
 DURING- this period, and, indeed, till the close of Charles's 
 infamous reign, the nonconformists were generally per- 
 secuted with great rigour ; the King himself, as if in mockery 
 of the principles of his late hollow indulgence, permitting the 
 utmost severities. The numerous laws which had been enacted 
 against them were all strictly enforced ; their families and as- 
 semblies were infested by the vilest informers wretches who 
 did not scruple to assume even the mask of religion, to enable 
 them more effectually to play the traitor ; while the prisons in 
 many cases were literally crowded with victims. 
 
 It is true that to a few, circumstances, local or temporary, 
 often afforded partial protection. Some of the nonconformists 
 were less obnoxious than others, some more prudent ; in many 
 cases the magistrates connived at their proceedings, or, when 
 compelled to take notice of them, mitigated the penalties to 
 which the accused were exposed ; while a few, at their own 
 proper risk, nobly refused to exercise their odious office, or to 
 receive the depositions of the infamous creatures who lived 
 upon the spoil of innocence and piety. 
 
 There were, also, brief intervals in which the whole body of 
 the nonconformists were favoured with some mitigation of their 
 sufferings moments when the blast of persecution, having 
 blown its fill, seemed for a while to have spent itself. These
 
 134 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 pauses, however, were short and of rare occurrence ; the 
 general condition of the nonconformists during the remainder 
 of this reign, and the commencement of the next, was most 
 deplorable. 
 
 For the intervals of comparative quiet to which I have just 
 adverted, they were, generally, indebted to the prevalence of 
 those alarms of Popery, which were not infrequent in the reign 
 of the Second Charles, and which reached their height at the 
 time of the celebrated " Popish Plot," in 1678-9. During such 
 periods of panic, the schismatics were in some measure for- 
 gotten, and even regarded with some favour, as valuable allies 
 in case of need ; and though some of the high church bigots 
 would have contemplated even the restoration of Popery with 
 less displeasure than a relaxation of the terms of conformity, a 
 majority of the clergy held very different sentiments. On more 
 than one occasion of this kind, some overtures had already 
 been made towards a " comprehension/' especially in the 
 memorable attempt of 1674-5, in which the leading men on 
 the side of the Church were Bishops Morley and Ward, and 
 Dean Tillotson; those on that of the nonconformists, Baxter, 
 Pool, and Bates. This occurred just before Howe returned to 
 England. Like every other scheme of the kind, it came to 
 nothing. 
 
 Howe had never abandoned his hopes of an adjustment 
 between the Church and the nonconformists ; and now, in the 
 same spirit of charity which had induced him twenty years 
 before to toil with Baxter in the fruitless schemes of " com- 
 prehension," he availed himself of every favourable opportunity 
 of urging on persons of influence or authority in the Church, 
 the desirableness of some attempt at accommodation. At the 
 time of the Popish Plot especially, as well as during a con- 
 siderable part of the following year, when the nation was 
 frantic with the most absurd and fantastic terrors of Popery, 
 he never ceased to maintain what was, indeed, obvious to 
 every unprejudiced understanding that the best method of 
 fortifying Protestantism against the designs of Home, was to 
 close those wide breaches through which alone the enemy could 
 hope to assail it with success. Nor could any time for any
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 135 
 
 such attempt be more auspicious than during the agitation 
 produced by the Popish Plot, and within a year or two 
 after. 
 
 About this period, an amusing incident occurred, which 
 Calamy has related at the close of his volume, but which, for 
 the sake of preserving the continuity of the narrative, I prefer 
 relating here. He tells us, that " during Charles's reign, 
 Howe had it signified to him, by several, that a certain noble- 
 man, who was at that time great at court, was desirous to see 
 him." Calamy does not tell us who this nobleman was ; but 
 there can be little doubt, after carefully weighing the whole 
 circumstances, that it was the notorious Duke of Buckingham. 
 This nobleman, it is well known, affected, at this period, ex- 
 traordinary liberality, and employed no small efforts to con- 
 ciliate the sectaries for what purposes, I do not now inquire.* 
 Howe took an opportunity of waiting on him. After some 
 conversation the soi-disant patron hinted, that " the noncon- 
 formists were too numerous and powerful to be any longer 
 neglected ; that they deserved regard ; and that, if they had a 
 friend near the throne, and who possessed influence with the 
 court generally, to give them advice in critical emergencies, 
 and to convey their requests to the royal ear, they would find 
 it much to their advantage." He was further pleased to 
 express himself in such a manner as necessarily led his visitor 
 to conclude, that he himself would have no objection to become 
 their advocate and representative at court. Howe, penetrating 
 at once the sordid and ambitious motives which prompted this 
 modest proposal, and fully impressed with the preposterous 
 unfitness of such a person for such an office, replied, with an 
 air of great simplicity, " that the nonconformists being an 
 avowedly religious people, it highly concerned them, should 
 they fix on any one for the purpose mentioned, to choose some 
 one who would not be ashamed of them, and of whom they might 
 have no reason to be ashamed ; and that to find a person in 
 whom there was a concurrence of those two qualifications, was 
 
 * His conduct at this period forms an important feature in the plot of Scott's 
 novel of " Peveril of the Peak. 1 '
 
 136 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 exceedingly difficult." I need not say that this reply put an 
 end to all negotiations in this quarter. 
 
 Howe seldom entered the arena of controversy. In the year 
 1680, a circumstance occurred which, in his opinion, justified 
 him in doing so. Amongst others, whom the spirit of party 
 hurried into excesses utterly unworthy of them, was the 
 celebrated Dean Stillingfleet,* afterwards Bishop of Worcester ; 
 a man deservedly respected for his learning and talents, and 
 hitherto distinguished by a moderate and conciliatory temper. 
 
 On the 2nd of May, 1680, he preached a sermon before the 
 Lord Mayor and Aldermen of the city, and the Judges and 
 Serjeants, f as uncharitable in its spirit as it was absurd in 
 reasoning. His text was, " Nevertheless, whereto we have 
 already attained, let us walk by the same rule ; let us mind the 
 same thing." J The sermon was afterwards printed under the 
 title of " The Mischief of Separation." In this discourse, he 
 not only inveighs most bitterly against the nonconformists, on 
 whom he charges the sole guilt of the great schism which had 
 rent the Established Church in twain, but maintains the dan- 
 gerous position, " that though the really conscientious noncon- 
 formist is justified in not worshipping after the prescribed 
 forms of the Church of England, or rather would be criminal 
 if he did so, yet he is not less criminal in setting up a separate 
 assembly." Such is the pleasant dilemma to which, according 
 to this writer, the sensitive consciences of the nonconformists 
 
 * In 1659 he published his book called " Irenicum," the grand object of 
 which was to prove that no form of church government could be proved to be 
 jure divino from any passages of the New Testament. This made the vehe- 
 mence and violence of the " Mischief of Separation " the more glaring, and 
 gave Howe and others, in their replies, an opportunity of using the argumentum 
 ad hominem with considerable effect. Supposing his adversaries in the wrong, 
 it was urged that more forbearance might have been expected from one who 
 had been twenty years in amending his theory and correcting the errors of his 
 youth. 
 
 t Calamy has virtually represented Stillingfleet as having preached this 
 sermon after the "Exclusion Bill" (designed to shut out James II., then 
 Duke of York, from the throne, on the ground of his being a papist) had been 
 rejected by the House of Lords ; and has even left the reader to infer, by the 
 manner in which he introduces the mention of it, that it was to be attributed to 
 the rejection of that bill. This seems to be a mistake; since the Exclusion 
 Bill was not lost till November, 1680, whereas the sermon of Stillingfleet was 
 preached on the 2nd of May. 
 
 Phil. iii. 16.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 137 
 
 had reduced them. An inevitable necessity of crime was the 
 direct consequence of their scrupulous anxiety to avoid it. It 
 was at their peril, if they worshipped with the Church of 
 England ; it was at their peril, if they worshipped in the con- 
 venticle ; and it was certainly not less at their peril, if they 
 abstained from worship altogether ! 
 
 While other writers opposed the argumentation of the dis- 
 course in general,* Howe set himself more immediately to the 
 refutation of this simple position. He was in the country 
 when the discourse was printed, but received it together with 
 an enclosed letter from a " person of quality/' who had read 
 the Dean's sermon with equal surprise and indignation. As 
 Howe thought he perceived in his correspondent's letter some- 
 what of the same angry spirit which was but too evident in 
 the discourse itself, he, in his reply, f expresses his intention, 
 first, " of defending the cause of the nonconformists against 
 the Dean, and then of adding something in defence of the 
 Dean against his correspondent." 
 
 The first part, though written in haste, is full of close and 
 powerful reasoning, and thoroughly demolishes the untenable 
 position of his opponent. The latter part, in which he proceeds 
 to allay the anger of his correspondent, and to apologize for 
 the conduct of the Dean, is eminently beautiful, strikingly 
 illustrative of the writer's character, and furnishes a perfect 
 model of fair and gentlemanly controversy. While I earnestly 
 entreat the reader carefully to peruse the whole composition, I 
 cannot refrain from inserting here one or two short extracts 
 from it ; not without a faint hope, that some of the writers on 
 the same controversy in the present day, who seem to be emu- 
 lating, in virulence and uncharitableness, the spirit of their 
 forefathers, may be impressed with the contrast between 
 Howe's temper and their own. Such a temper is rare at any 
 period ; but in that age of fierce and savage controversy, of 
 the tomahawk and scalping-knife, it was indeed a phenomenon. 
 
 * As Owen, Baxter, Alsop, and othsrs. 
 
 f The reply was entitled, " A Letter out of the Country to a Person of quality 
 in the City, who took offence at the late Sermon of Dr. Stillingfleet, Dean of 
 St. Paul's, before the Lord Mayor."
 
 138 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 The contrast, however, between such a temper and that which 
 animated controvertists in general, more strongly displays the 
 elevation and spirituality of mind which secured Howe against 
 the infectious example of bigotry, and enabled him, when writ- 
 ing on topics so exciting and irritating, to preserve the courtesy 
 of a gentleman and the charity of a Christian. 
 
 " I must here indeed tell you, that I cannot blame you for 
 being in some measure offended, as I can excuse the Doctor but 
 in part. I do dislike, as well as you, two things especially in 
 his way of managing this business ; his too great acrimony and 
 too little seriousness/' 7 . 
 
 After thus admitting, and rebuking, but with most winning 
 gentleness, the faults of the preacher, and especially the 
 sarcastic and derisive tone in which he had indulged, Howe 
 proceeds : 
 
 " One would rather have thought he should have bedewed 
 that discourse with tears, which had in itself, most manifestly, 
 so awful and tremendous a design, as not only the devoting of 
 so great numbers, that might possibly not be convinced and 
 persuaded by him, to a temporal ruin ; but the depriving them 
 of the ordinary means of their salvation : and that, if he thought 
 it necessary for the preserving of order in the church, they 
 should be so dealt with, he should have spoken of their case 
 with the greatest compassion and tenderness, not with derision 
 and contempt. 
 
 " Yet I would have you use lenitives with yourself, and calm 
 your own spirit j and I wish you were capable of contributing 
 anything to the moderating and pacifying his too : that though 
 he have been angry unprovoked, and with a sort of men that 
 have ever respected and honoured him, as if he had been of 
 themselves ; his anger, that hath been without cause, (as you 
 know perhaps who in a like expression blame the exorbitancy 
 of another passion,) may not also be without end. At least, I 
 pray you, take heed you do not deserve the like sharp repartee, 
 which the cynic met with from that noble philosopher, that he 
 taxed his pride with greater pride ; that you exceed not the 
 heats whereof you complain. . . . If he will still retain 
 his fervour, let him be angry alone ; and his displeasure have 
 its continuance with as little influence or concomitancy of yours,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 139 
 
 (and I could wish of any other man's,) as, for ought I know, it 
 had its beginning. And that since he thinks of being a sacri- 
 fice, he may only burn gently in his own flame, which he may 
 moderate as he* pleases, and I hope will seasonably extinguish, 
 before he hath suffered much harm by it. 
 
 " For the qualifying of your own too great resentment and 
 offence ; I would have you consider how great reason you have to 
 believe, that this blow came only from the (somewhat misgoverned) 
 hand of a pious and good man. Be it far from you to imagine 
 otherwise. If you think he was to blame for intimating sus- 
 picions of their sincerity whom he opposes, make not yourself 
 equally blanieable, by admitting hereupon any concerning his : 
 which would argue a mean, narrow spirit, and a most unwar- 
 rantable fondness of a party, as if all true religion and godliness 
 were bound up in it. 
 
 " And if it look unlovely in your eyes to see one of so 
 much avowed latitude and enlargedness of mind, and capable 
 on that account of being the more universally serviceable to 
 the Christian church, forsaking that comprehensive interest, so 
 far as to be engulfed into a party upon a private and distinct 
 basis, consider what aspect the same thing would have in your- 
 self ; and never make his difference with you in this matter, a 
 reason to yourself of a hard judgment concerning him ; who 
 can, you must consider, differ no more from us, than we do 
 from him. 
 
 "Believe him, in the substance of ivTiat lie said, to speak accord- 
 ing to his present judgment. Think how gradually and insen- 
 sibly men's judgments alter, and are formed by their converse ; 
 that his circumstances had made it necessary to him to con- 
 verse most, for a long time, with those who are fully of that 
 mind which he here discovers ; that his own real worth must 
 have drawn into his acquaintance the best and most valuable 
 of them, and such for whom he might not only have a kindness, 
 but a reverence ; and who therefore must have the more power 
 and influence upon him, to conform his sentiments to their 
 own. 
 
 " We ourselves do not know, had we been by our circumstances 
 led to associate and converse mostly with men of another judg- 
 ment, what our own would have been. And they that are wont 
 to discover most confidence of themselves, do usually but dis- 
 cover most ignorance of the nature of man ; and how little they 
 consider the power of external objects and inducements to draw 
 men's minds this way or that. Nor, indeed, as to matters of
 
 140 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 this nature, can any man be confident that the grace of Grod 
 shall certainly incline him to be of this or another opinion or 
 practice in these matters ; because we find those that we have 
 no reason to believe have greater assistances of Divine grace 
 are divided about them, and go not all one way. 
 
 "We may indeed be confident that had the same consi- 
 derations occurred to us which have, we should have been 
 of the same mind and judgment that we are. But it is very 
 supposable that some accidental occasions might possibly 
 have happened, that might hinder our actual taking up such 
 considerations, though the things to be considered were not 
 unknown to us : and not that only, but that might prevent our 
 knowing even matters of fact, that have signified not a little 
 to the determining our judgments that way which they now 
 incline to. 
 
 " So that for the substance of what he hath said against such 
 meetings, we have reason to impute it to his judgment ; and 
 his judgment to such circumstances, very much as I have 
 mentioned, that have led him the way he hath taken ; and not 
 given him opportunity to know what might have begot a better 
 opinion in him of the way which he opposes. 
 
 " But for the manner of treating this subject, that I impute 
 to the prevalency of some present temptation ; and hope he did 
 not express in that sermon his habitual temper : and am highly 
 confident, (notwithstanding what he hath said in it,) if it were in 
 his power, we might even safely trust him to prescribe us terms, 
 &nd should receive no hard ones from him. 
 
 " Somewhat it is likely he was expected (and might be urged) 
 to say to this business; and his own thoughts being set a 
 work, fermented into an intemperate heat, which, it is to be 
 lioped, will in time evaporate." 
 
 After stating his conviction that the spirit of unity and peace 
 would result from earnest and universal prayer for it, he thus 
 concludes : 
 
 " Do you your own part herein ; you will find your own 
 present advantage by it ; it will fill you with good thoughts, 
 hopes, and expectations : the kindly benign influences whereof 
 will pleasantly qualify and temper your spirit, and make you 
 know how much more grateful an inhabitant that charity is, 
 ' which thinketh no evil, beareth all things, believeth all things, 
 liopeth all things, endureth all things/ than frowardness, dis-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 141 
 
 content, vexation, and anger, at any one that thinks and speaks 
 otherwise than you did expect or wish." 
 
 It is no wonder that Stillingfleet, charmed with the spirit of 
 his opponent a spirit very different, it must be admitted, from 
 that of others who had replied to him confessed, " that Howe 
 had discoursed gravely and piously, more like a gentleman than 
 a divine, without any mixture of rancour or any sharp reflec- 
 tions, and sometimes with a great degree of kindness towards 
 him, for which and his prayers for him, he heartily thanked 
 him." 
 
 Howe's gentle spirit and conciliatory temper were not less 
 strikingly displayed in another occurrence which took place 
 about the same time. 
 
 In the same year * in which Stillingfleet preached his strange 
 sermon before the Lord Mayor, " On the Mischief of Separa- 
 tion," Tillotson (one of the most amiable of men, and in his 
 spirit and temper worthy of being compared with Howe him- 
 self) preached a discourse, equally paradoxical, before the King. 
 His text was, " And the people answered and said, God forbid 
 that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods." By 
 what imaginable subtlety of reasoning he could extract the 
 sentiment from such a passage, I know not ; but in his sermon 
 he maintained, " That no man is obliged to preach against the 
 religion of his country, though a false one, unless he has the 
 power of working miracles." The irreligious monarch, as was 
 often the case, slept during the greater part of the sermon. 
 As soon as the service was over, a nobleman stepped up and 
 said, " It is a pity your Majesty slept, for we have had the 
 rarest piece of Hobbism that ever you heard in your life." 
 " Odsfish ! " exclaimed the King, with one of his usual oaths, 
 " he shall print it then," and enjoined the Lord Chamberlain to 
 convey his commands to the Dean. When printed, the Dean, 
 as was usual with him, sent a copy to Howe, who, on perusing 
 it, was filled with alarm at the dangerous position which the 
 preacher had thought proper to maintain. 
 
 1680.
 
 142 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 He instantly sent the Dean a long letter of expostulation, 
 which, unhappily, has not been preserved. Calamy, however, 
 whose information seems worthy of implicit confidence,* has 
 mentioned the principal topics on which it insisted. Howe 
 expressed his conviction that the sermon was " directly opposed 
 to all the principles on which alone the Reformation could be 
 justified;" reminded its author "that Calvin and Luther were, 
 happily for mankind, of a very different mind ; that the Chris- 
 tian religion being already confirmed by miracles, was not to 
 be repealed every time a wicked governor chose to establish a 
 false religion ; " and " that, consequently, its ministers were 
 bound publicly to advocate it, even though they could not work 
 miracles." In conclusion, he expressed deep regret, that in a 
 sermon professedly against Popery, the Dean should thus have 
 pleaded " the Popish cause against the Fathers of the Refor- 
 mation." This letter Howe carried himself, and delivered into 
 Tillotson's own hands. After hastily glancing at its contents, 
 the Dean told Howe that he was willing freely to discuss the 
 matter with him ; and proposed that, to insure uninterrupted 
 privacy, they should ride together a little way into the country. 
 Howe accepted the invitation, and they agreed to dine that 
 day with the Lady Falconbridge at Sutton Court. As they 
 rode together in the Dean's chariot, Howe read his letter aloud, 
 more fully explaining and enforcing it as he went on. Tillot- 
 son, at length convinced that the doctrine he had advocated 
 was utterly untenable, even wept over his error, and declared 
 that " this was the unhappiest thing which had for a long time 
 happened to him." In mitigation of his fault, however, he 
 pleaded ' ' that he had been unexpectedly summoned by the 
 Lord Chamberlain to preach on that day, the individual 
 whose turn it was having been suddenly taken ill ; that, having 
 little time for preparation, he had fastened on the topic which 
 was at that period uppermost in the public mind the fear of 
 Popery ; and lastly, that immediately after he had delivered 
 
 * At the close of his account of this affair, Calamy says, "I am the better satis- 
 fied that there is no mistake as to the substance of this passage, because he from 
 whom I had it, did not trust to his bare memory, but committed it to writing, 
 presently after he received the account from Mr. Howe himself."
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 143 
 
 the sermon, lie received the King's command to print it, which 
 rendered all revision impossible." 
 
 Tillotson's conduct on this occasion places his amiable 
 character in the fairest light. One can hardly regret that he 
 committed a fault for which he so nobly atoned, and which has 
 furnished us with so impressive an example of ingenuousness, 
 candour, and humility. 
 
 At the same time, there must have been about Howe's man- 
 ner of expostulation something peculiarly insinuating, since, 
 in general, a more hopeless task can hardly be imagined than 
 that of inducing a man to recant an error, to which he has 
 given his public sanction. Pride and shame alike impel him to 
 an obstinate defence of it. 
 
 Doubtless, on the present occasion the temper of both parties 
 equally conspired to produce the happy result : even the ex- 
 postulations of Howe might have failed, unless it had been a 
 Tillotson to whom they were addressed; and even Tillotson 
 might not have relented, had the reproof been administered by 
 a spirit less gentle than that of Howe. 
 
 In this same year, the attempts at comprehension were again 
 renewed. That the object was seriously contemplated by 
 some of the Bishops, is evident from the following fact, related 
 by Calamy. It appears that, at the close of 1680, Howe re- 
 ceived an invitation from Bishop Lloyd * to dine with him. 
 As he had no acquaintance with that prelate, he suspected that 
 it must be some very important reason which had led to such 
 an unusual courtesy. Being engaged to dine elsewhere on 
 that day, Howe sent word that he would wait on his Lordship 
 in the evening. On this, the Bishop sent again, to say, " that 
 since Mr. Howe could not dine with him, he would not trouble 
 him to come so far as his house, but would meet him at Dr. 
 Tillotson's," then Dean of Canterbury. When they met, the 
 Bishop told him, that he had sought this interview to ask him, 
 f ' what would satisfy the nonconformists, if an attempt should 
 
 * There were two Bishops of this name living at this period one of Nor- 
 wich, the other of St. Asaph, afterwards of Worcester. Calamy does not tell us 
 which of these two prelates it was who honoured Howe with this invitation. 
 There can be little doubt, however, that it was the latter.
 
 144 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 be made to adjust the differences between them and the 
 Church." Howe, with his usual caution, replied, that " as all 
 had not the same latitude, he could only answer for himself." 
 He was then requested to state, "what concessions, in his 
 opinion, would satisfy the scruples of the greater part : for/' 
 added the Bishop, " I would have the terms so large as to 
 comprehend the most of them." On this, Howe declared, that 
 he thought " a very considerable obstacle would be removed, 
 if the law were so framed as to enable ministers to attempt 
 parochial reformation" " For that reason," said the Bishop, 
 " I am for abolishing the lay chancellors, as being the great 
 hindrance to such reformation." They then agreed to meet 
 again the following evening at Dr. Stillingfleet's, Dean of St. 
 Paul's. Howe asked if he should brin Baxter with him ? 
 But this the Bishop (who was doubtless well aware of that 
 unhappy propensity for " distinguishing," by which, with the 
 best intentions in the world, Baxter often managed to multiply 
 and aggravate the points of dispute) positively forbade. Howe 
 then proposed Dr. Bates ; and was answered, " that no man 
 could be more proper." At seven, therefore, on the following 
 evening, Bates and Howe repaired to Dr. Stillingfleet's, 
 "who," says Calamy, "had provided a handsome treat" for 
 his visitors. Of this " handsome treat " the Bishop was either 
 disinclined or unable to partake; for ten o'clock came, and 
 they neither saw nor heard of him. The next morning, the 
 mystery was solved; on that very evening the Bill of Ex- 
 clusion * was thrown out of the House of Lords, by a majority 
 of thirty votes fourteen of which came from the bench of 
 
 * This was the celehrated Bill for excluding James II., then Duke of York, 
 from the succession, on the ground of his being a Papist. A bill for this pur- 
 pose had been passed more than once in the House of Commons, but had been 
 defeated by the dissolution or prorogation of Parliament. In order to frustrate 
 that measure, the King, between 1679 and 1681, dissolved not less than three 
 Parliaments, in the hope of more favourable elections. Those hopes, however, 
 were vain ; the country each time returning a Parliament bent on this project. 
 The Parliament of 1680, especially, was determined not only to exclude the 
 Duke of York from the throne, but, as seen above, to effect, if possible, the 
 union of " his Majesty's Protestant subjects." The last of the above three Parlia- 
 ments met at Oxford, and after sitting only a week, was dissolved. The King 
 after this dispensed with all such refractory assemblies to the end of his reign.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 145 
 
 Bishops. After this, the scheme of comprehension, so far as 
 the Church was concerned, was heard of no more. 
 
 The Parliament which met in 1680, was, like that which had 
 been dissolved the preceding year, of a very liberal character. 
 During the session, and soon after the Bill of Exclusion had 
 been rejected by the Upper House, they brought in a measure 
 for " uniting his Majesty's Protestant subjects." They were 
 especially anxious to effect the repeal of certain persecuting 
 laws of Elizabeth, which had been directed against Popish 
 recusants, and which were now cruelly put in force against the 
 nonconformists. A bill, with this object, after having passed 
 both houses, was quietly withdrawn by the Clerk of the Crown, 
 at the command of the King; who took this characteristic 
 method of quashing a measure he dared not openly reject. 
 The Commons, indignant at this insult, resorted to the unpre- 
 cedented step of passing a vote, " That the Acts of Parliament 
 made in the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and King James 
 against Popish recusants, ought not to be enforced against 
 Protestant Dissenters ; " and, " That the prosecution of Pro- 
 testant Dissenters, upon the penal laws, is at this time grievous 
 to the subject, a weakening of the Protestant interest, an 
 encouragement to Popery, and dangerous to the peace of the 
 kingdom." 
 
 1 L
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FEOM 1681 TO 1684. 
 
 CONDITION OF THE NONCONFORMISTS DURING THIS PERIOD HOWE'S MEETING-HOUSE 
 DISTURBED ACCOUNT OF HIS PUBLICATIONS IN 1681, 1682, AND 1683 PREACHES 
 
 HIS SERMON ON THE UNION OF PROTESTANTS ACCOUNT OF IT EXTRACTS LETTER, 
 
 OF CONSOLATION TO LADY BUSSELL REFLECTIONS EXPOSTULAIORY LETTER TO 
 BISHOP BARLOW. 
 
 IN the year 1681, the condition of the nonconformists became* 
 yet more deplorable. The various circumstances which 
 had sometimes mitigated tbe rigour of former persecutions, no 
 longer afforded them protection ; and for the next two or three 
 years, they were exposed to the full fury of the tempest. 
 
 Not only were the harsh laws which had been expressly 
 enacted against them, enforced with the utmost rigour, but 
 laws which had never been intended to apply to them laws 
 which were made against the Papists in the reign of Elizabeth 
 had been recently revived, and were now vigorously acted 
 on, in defiance of the late vote of the House of Commons. 
 Some of the dignitaries of the Church actively seconded the 
 designs of the government, incited the civil magistrate to 
 greater severity, and put into motion all the crushing ma- 
 chinery of the ecclesiastical courts. 
 
 The inoffensive habits and great prudence of Howe seem in 
 some measure to have secured him against the severities to 
 which so many of his brethren were exposed; yet even he 
 (as appears by an expression in the " Pastoral Letter/' which 
 will be found in a subsequent page) rarely ventured into 
 the streets, during this and the two following years. It also 
 appears that, on one occasion, about this time, his meeting 
 was disturbed by the emissaries of persecution while he was
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 147 
 
 preaching, and seven of his hearers committed to Newgate ; 
 amongst whom was the Rev. Richard Dowley, one of the 
 ejected ministers, in the account of whose life this circumstance 
 is preserved.* 
 
 During this gloomy year, Howe made diligent use of the 
 solitary hours to which persecution doomed him, in preparing 
 for the press several of his smaller publications. Amongst 
 these were the discourses entitled, " Thoughtfulness for the 
 Morrow," (to which was attached an appendix, " Concerning 
 the immoderate Desire of Foreknowing Things to Come/') 
 and " On Charity in reference to other Men's Sins." The 
 former was dedicated to the Lady Anne Wharton, f of Upper 
 Winchingdon, in the county of Bucks, at whose request it was 
 written. The discourse " On Charity in reference to other 
 Men's Sins," originated in the following circumstances. 
 
 A person who had been for some time a colleague of Howe, 
 and wh.ose name was Daniel Bull, having been betrayed into 
 some grievous immorality, the irreligious, as usual, set up a 
 shout of triumph. Howe, who was ever ready to throw the 
 mantle of love over the failings of an erring brother, exposed 
 from the pulpit, in a most cogent manner, the malignity and 
 folly of such exultation. The sermon he afterwards published, 
 by request, under the above title. The " preface " is exquisite 
 in sentiment, and often in expression; and the close, also, is 
 exceedingly eloquent. On such a subject Howe had a peculiar 
 right to speak, for the principles he lays down were never 
 more fully exemplified in any man's life than in his own. 
 
 It is proper to add, that Mr. Bull became truly penitent, and 
 died generally esteemed for his piety and humility. 
 
 This same year, Howe published his Funeral Sermon for 
 Margaret, the wife of Richard Baxter, from the text, " We are 
 confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the 
 
 * Palmer's " Noncon. Memorial," vol. ii. p. 395. 
 
 t This was the wife of Philip, Lord Wharton, with whom Howe, three years 
 after, travelled on the Continent. She appears, from Howe's language, to have 
 been a very excellent woman. He tells her, " Your ladyship hath been called 
 to serve religion in a family wherein it hath long flourished, and which it hath 
 dignified beyond all the splendour that antiquity and secular greatness could 
 confer upon it."
 
 148 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 body, and to be present with the Lord." * It is dedicated to 
 Baxter. 
 
 In 1682, (public affairs continuing in the same gloomy 
 state,) Howe seems to have employed his solitude much in the 
 same manner as during the preceding year. Restricted in the 
 exercise of his public ministry, he sought to extend his useful- 
 ness by means of the press. His publications this year were 
 numerous. The first was, " The Right Use of the Argument 
 in Prayer from the Name of God, on Behalf of a People who 
 profess it; " the second, his well-known sermon on " Self-Dedi- 
 cation." It was preached " at the anniversary thanksgiving 
 for a great deliverance vouchsafed " to the Earl of Kildare, 
 Baron of Ophalia, to whom it is dedicated. f There is one 
 passage in this dedication which is much after the manner of 
 Jeremy Taylor : 
 
 "Your lordship was pleased to allow an hour to the hearing 
 of that discourse. What was proposed to you in it, is to be 
 the business of your life. And what is to be done continually, 
 is once to be thoroughly done. The impression ought to be 
 very inward, and strong, which must be so lasting as to govern 
 a man's life. And were it as fully done as mortality can admit, 
 it needs be more solemnly renewed at set times for that pur- 
 pose. And, indeed, that such a day should not pass you with- 
 out a fall, nor that fall be without a hurt, and that hurt proceed 
 unto a wound, and that wound not be mortal, but even next 
 to it, looks like an artifice and contrivance of Providence, to 
 show you how near it could go without cutting through that 
 slender thread of life ; that it might endear to you its accurate 
 superintendency over your life ; that there might here be a 
 remarkable juncture in that thread ; and that whensoever such 
 a day should revolve in the circle of your year, it might come 
 again and again, with a note upon it under your eye, and ap- 
 pear ever to you as another birth-day, or as an earlier day of 
 resurrection." 
 
 * 2 Cor. v. 8. 
 
 t This was John Fitzgerald, eighteenth earl. His uncle Eobert married a 
 daughter of Colonel James Clotworthy, related to the Massarene family. This 
 may account for Howe's acquaintance with him. The Countess of Kildare was 
 esteemed one of the most amiable women of her time.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 149 
 
 His third publication this year was an eloquent Funeral 
 Sermon for the Rev. Richard Fairclough, entitled, " The 
 Faithful Steward Applauded and Rewarded." In the same 
 year, he also composed the Annotations on the three Epistles 
 of St. John, forming a part of the second volume of Pool's 
 Annotations.* 
 
 In 1683, appeared his justly-celebrated discourse on " Union 
 among Protestants; or, An Answer to the Question, '"What 
 may most hopefully be attempted to allay Animosities among 
 Protestants, so that our Divisions may not be our Ruin ? ' " f 
 This was a subject to which Howe was admirably qualified 
 to do justice, and which, throughout his life, was inex- 
 pressibly dear to him. Here his enlarged and truly catholic 
 spirit his superiority to all the littleness of party feeling 
 his absorbing solicitude for the interest of real religion, 
 whatever its outward forms display themselves to the 
 greatest advantage. His text was that sublime prayer of 
 the apostle for the Colossians, " That their hearts might be 
 comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of 
 the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgment of 
 the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ." J He 
 declares, at the commencement, that it is by no means his 
 design to discuss " what might be attempted towards remedy- 
 ing the evils in question by laws and public constitutions," or 
 to argue any of the points controverted by the several parties ; 
 but to urge on all those parties alike the great moral means, 
 by which a unity might be secured far more noble than that 
 of identity of opinion. This, he tells us, might be effected 
 " by the maintaining sincere love among Christians, and the 
 improving of their faith to greater measures of clearness, 
 certainty, and efficacy, in reference to the substantiate of 
 Christianity." None, I would fain believe, can read the pass- 
 ages which occur in the discussion of the first of the two 
 above-mentioned topics, without feeling, for a moment, at least, 
 
 * Pool died before this work was finished. It was completed by different 
 persons after his death. 
 
 t Published in the Continuation of the Morning Exercise. 
 1 Col. ii. 2.
 
 150 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 elevated above the meanness of party spirit, and emulous of 
 imitating the sublime charity of the author. 
 
 In this discourse he also enters into a full and very philoso- 
 phical disquisition on the causes which often determine men's 
 tastes and preferences in favour of this or that system of 
 religious worship, and from thence deduces the lessons of 
 forbearance, which, on this as well as on other and higher 
 accounts, Christians should mutually practise. 
 
 In the second part, he urges the necessity of " attaining a 
 deeper sense of the importance and truth of the substantiate 
 of Christianity ; " and then proceeds to show how this would 
 operate to the proposed end. It would fill the mind, he tells 
 his hearers, with an habitual persuasion "of the infinitely 
 greater importance of those things in which Christians agree, 
 than of those in which they differ." 
 
 The whole discourse is adapted not only for those times, but 
 for all, and is worthy of the serious, devout perusal of persons 
 of all religious parties. 
 
 On the 20th of July, 1683, was beheaded the truly noble 
 William Lord Russell, in atrocious violation of every principle 
 of equity and justice. Lady Russell, who during the trial of 
 her noble husband had borne up with unparalleled fortitude, 
 drooped after his death, and for a time seemed hopelessly 
 overwhelmed with the contemplation of her dreadful loss. 
 Howe, touched with the melancholy accounts he had received 
 of her, addressed to her the following anonymous letter of 
 consolation : 
 
 " Madam, 
 
 " It can avail you nothing, to let your honour know 
 from what hand this paper comes ; and my own design in it is 
 abundantly answered if what it contains proves useful to you. 
 Your affliction hath been great, unspeakably beyond what it is 
 in my power or design to represent ; and your supports (in the 
 paroxysm of your affliction) have been very extraordinary ; and 
 such as wherein all that have observed or heard, could not but 
 acknowledge a Divine hand. 
 
 " But your affliction was not limited and enclosed within
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 151 
 
 the limits of one black day, nor is like those more common 
 ones, the sense whereof abates and wears off by time ; but is 
 continued, and probably more felt, as time runs on : which 
 therefore makes you need continued help from Heaven every 
 day. 
 
 " Yet there is here a great difference between what expec- 
 tations we may have of Divine assistance, in the beginning or 
 first violence of some great affliction, and in the continued 
 course of it afterwards. At first we are apt to be astonished ; 
 a consternation seizes our thinking faculty, especially as to 
 that exercise of it whereby it should minister to our relief. 
 In this case the mercif ul God doth more extraordinarily assist 
 such as sincerely trust and resign themselves to him ; unto 
 these, as his more peculiar favourites, his sustaining influences 
 are more immediate, and more efficacious, so as even (in the 
 present exigency) to prevent and supersede any endeavour of 
 theirs, whereof they are, then, less capable. And of the large- 
 ness and bounty of his goodness, in such a case, few have had 
 greater experience than your ladyship ; which was eminently 
 seen, in that magnanimity, that composure and presentness of 
 mind, much admired by your friends, and no doubt by the 
 special favour of Heaven afforded you in the needful season : so 
 that while that amazing calamity was approaching, and stood in 
 nearer view, nothing that was fit or wise or great was omitted, 
 nothing indecent done : which is not now said, God knows, to 
 flatter your ladyship, (whereof the progress will further vindi- 
 cate me,) for I ascribe it to God, as I trust your ladyship, with 
 unfeigned gratitude, will also do. And I mention it, as that 
 whereby you are under obligation to endeavour, your con- 
 tinued temper and deportment may be agreeable to such 
 beginnings. 
 
 " For now (which is the other thing whereof a distinct obser- 
 vation ought to be had) in the continuance and settled state of 
 the affliction, when the fury of the first assault is over, and we 
 have had leisure to recollect ourselves, and recover our dissi- 
 pated spirits, though we are then more sensible of pain and 
 smart, yet also the power of using our own thoughts is restored. 
 And being so, although we are too apt to use them to our 
 greater hurt and prejudice, we are really put again into a 
 capacity of using them to our advantage, which our good God 
 doth in much wisdom and righteousness require we should do. 
 Whereupon, we are to expect his continual assistance for our 
 support under continued affliction in the way of concurrence
 
 152 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 and co-operation with our due use of our own thoughts, 
 aptly chosen, as much as in us is, and designed by ourselves, 
 for our own comfort and support. 
 
 " Now as for thoughts suitable to your honour's case, I have 
 reason to be conscious that what I shall write can make but 
 little accession, I will not say to a closet, but to a mind, so well 
 furnished, as you are owner of: yet I know it is remote from 
 you to slight a well-intended offer and essay, that really pro- 
 ceeds only from a very compassionate sense of your sorrows, 
 and unfeigned desire to contribute something (if the Father of 
 mercies and the God of all comforts and consolations will please 
 to favour the endeavour) to your relief. 
 
 " And the thoughts which I shall most humbly offer, will 
 have that first and more immediate design, to persuade your 
 making use of your own ; that is, that you would please to 
 turn and apply them to subjects more apt to serve this pur- 
 pose, the moderating your own grief, and the attaining an 
 habitual well-tempered cheerfulness, for your remaining time 
 in this world. For I consider how incident it is to the 
 afflicted, to indulge to themselves an unlimited liberty in 
 their sorrows, to give themselves up to them, to make them 
 meat and drink, to justify them in all their excesses, as that 
 (otherwise) good and holy man of God did his anger, and 
 say, they ( do well to be sorrowful even to the death/ and 
 (as another) ' to refuse to be comforted/ And I also consider 
 that our own thoughts must and will always be the im- 
 mediate ministers either of our trouble or comfort, though 
 as to the latter, God only is the supreme Author ; and we 
 altogether insufficient to think anything that good is, as 
 of ourselves. It is 'God that comforts those that are cast 
 down/ but by our own thoughts employed to that purpose, 
 not without them. 
 
 " I do not doubt, Madam, but if you once fixedly apprehend 
 that there is sin in an over-abounding sorrow, you will soon 
 endeavour its restraint : for I cannot think you would more 
 earnestly set yourself to avoid anything than what you appre- 
 hend will offend God, especially the doing that in a continued 
 course. Is there any time when joy in God is a duty ? it 
 is very plain the sorrow that excludes it is a sin. How the 
 former may appear to be a duty, and how far, let it be con- 
 sidered. 
 
 " It is not to be doubted but that he that made us hath a 
 right to rule us ; he that gave us being, to give us law : nor
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 153 
 
 again, that the Divine government reaches our minds, and that 
 they are the prime and first seat of his empire. His kingdom, 
 is within us. We are not then to exercise our thoughts, desires, 
 love, joy, or sorrow, according to our own will, but his ; not as 
 we please, or find ourselves inclined, but suitably to his precepts 
 and purposes, his rules and ends. 
 
 " It is evident that withal the earthly state is mixed ; inter- 
 mediate between the perfect felicity of heaven, and the total 
 misery of hell : and further, that the temper of our spirits ought 
 to have in it a mixture of joy and sorrow, proportionable to our 
 state, or what there is in it of the just occasions or causes of 
 both. 
 
 " Where Christianity obtains, and the gospel of our Saviour 
 is preached, there is much greater cause of joy than elsewhere. 
 The visible aspect of it imports a design to form men's minds 
 to gladness, inasmuch as, wheresoever it -comes, it proclaims 
 peace to the world, and represents the offended Majesty of 
 heaven willing to be reconciled to his offending creatures on 
 earth. So the angel prefaced the gospel, when our Lord was 
 born into the world, ' I tell you glad tidings of great joy, which 
 shall be to all people/ And so the multitude of accompanying 
 angels sum it up : ' Glory be to God in the highest, peace on 
 earth, good will towards men/ 
 
 " To them that truly receive the gospel, and with whom 
 it hath its effect, the cause of rejoicing riseth much higher. 
 For if the offer and hope of reconciliation be a just ground of 
 joy, how much more actual agreement with God, upon the 
 terms of the gospel, and reconciliation itself ! ' We rejoice 
 in God through Jesus Christ, by whom we have received 
 the atonement/ To such there are express precepts given 
 to ' rejoice in the Lord always/ And lest that should be 
 thought to have been spoken hastily, and that it might 
 have its full weight, that great apostle immediately adds, 
 'And again I say to you, Rejoice/ And elsewhere, 'Rejoice 
 evermore/ 
 
 " Hence, therefore, the genuine right temper and frame of 
 a truly Christian mind and spirit may be evidently concluded 
 to be this, (for such precepts do not signify nothing, nor can 
 they be understood to signify less,) an habitual joyfulness, 
 prevailing over all the temporary occasions of sorrow that 
 occur to them. For none can be thought of that can prepon- 
 derate, or be equal to the just and great causes of their joy. 
 This is the true frame, model, and constitution of the king-
 
 154 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 dom of God, which ought to have place in us; herein it 
 consists, in ' righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost/ 
 
 " Nor is this a theory only, or the idea and notion of an 
 excellent temper of spirit, which we may contemplate indeed, 
 but can never attain to. For we find it also to have been the 
 attainment and usual temper of .Christians heretofore, 'that 
 being justified by faith, and having peace with God/ they 
 have rejoiced in hope of the glory of God, unto that degree, 
 as ' even to glory in their tribulations also/ And that in the 
 confidence they should be ' kept by the power of God through 
 faith unto salvation/ they have hereupon greatly rejoiced, 
 though with some mixture of heaviness (whereof there was 
 need) from their manifold trials. But that their joy did 
 surmount and prevail over their heaviness is manifest; for 
 this is spoken of with much diminution, whereas they are 
 said to rejoice greatly, and with ' a joy unspeakable and full 
 of glory/ 
 
 "Yea, and such care hath the great God taken for the 
 preserving of this temper of spirit among his people more 
 anciently, that even their sorrow for sin itself (the most 
 justifiable of all other) hath had restraints put upon it, lest it 
 should too long exclude or intermit the exercise of this joy. 
 For when a great assembly of them were universally in tears, 
 upon hearing the law read, and the sense given, they were 
 forbidden to weep or mourn, or be sorry, ' because the joy of 
 the Lord was their strength/ That most just sorrow had 
 been unjust had it been continued so as to exclude the season- 
 able turn and alternation of this joy. For even such sorrow 
 itself is not required, or necessary for itself. It is remote from 
 the goodness and benignity of God's ever-blessed nature to 
 take pleasure in the sorrows of his people, as they are such, 
 or that they should sorrow for sorrow's sake ; but only as a 
 means and preparative to their following joy. And nothing 
 can be more unreasonable, than that the means should ex- 
 clude the end, or be used against the purpose they should 
 serve. 
 
 1 ' It is then upon the whole most manifest, that no temporary 
 affliction whatsoever, upon one who stands in special relation 
 to God, as a reconciled (and, which is consequent, an adopted) 
 person, though attended with the most aggravating circum- 
 stances, can justify such a sorrow (so deep or so continued) 
 las shall prevail against and shut out a religious holy joy, or
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 155 
 
 hinder it from being the prevailing principle in such a one. 
 What can make that sorrow allowable or innocent, (what event 
 of Providence, that can, whatever it is, be no other than an 
 accident to our Christian state,) that shall resist the most 
 natural design and end of Christianity itself? that shall de- 
 prave and debase the truly Christian temper, and disobey arid 
 violate most express Christian precepts? subvert the consti- 
 tution of Christ's kingdom among men ? and turn this earth 
 (the place of God's treaty with the inhabitants of it, in order to 
 their reconciliation to himself; and to the reconciled, the portal 
 and gate of heaven, yea, and where the state of the very worst 
 and most miserable has some mixture of good in it, that makes 
 the evil of it less than that of hell) into a mere hell to them- 
 selves, of sorrow without mixture, and wherein shall be nothing 
 but weeping and wailing ? 
 
 " The cause of your sorrow, Madam, is exceeding great. The 
 causes of your joy are inexpressibly greater. You have infinitely 
 more left than you have lost. Doth it need to be disputed 
 whether God be better and greater than man ? or more to be 
 valued, loved, and delighted in ? and whether an eternal rela- 
 tion be more considerable than a temporary one ? Was it not 
 your constant sense in your best outward state, ( Whom have I 
 in heaven but thee, God ? and whom can I desire on earth, 
 in comparison of thee ? ' Herein the state of your ladyship's 
 case is still the same ; if indeed you cannot with greater clear- 
 ness and with less hesitation pronounce those latter words. 
 The principal causes of your joy are immutable, such as no 
 supervening thing can alter. You have lost a most pleasant, 
 delectable, earthly relative. Doth the blessed God hereby 
 cease to be the best and most excellent Good ? Is his nature 
 changed ? his everlasting covenant reversed and annulled, 
 ' which is ordered in all things and sure, and is to be all your 
 salvation and all your desire, whether he make your house on 
 earth to grow or not to grow ? ' That sorrow which exceeds 
 the proportion of its cause, compared with the remaining true 
 and real causes of rejoicing, is in that excess causeless ; that is, 
 that excess of it wants a cause, such as can justify or afford 
 defence unto it. 
 
 " We are required, in reference to our nearest relations in 
 this world, when we lose them, ' to weep as if we wept not/ as 
 well as, when we enjoy them, to ' rejoice as if we rejoiced not, 
 because our time here is short, and the fashion of this world 
 passeth away/
 
 J 56 ' LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " We are finite beings, and so are they. Our passions in 
 reference to them must not be infinite and without limit, or 
 be limited only by the limited capacity of our nature, so as to 
 work to the utmost extent of that, as the fire burns and the 
 winds blow, as much as they can : but they are to be limited 
 by the power, design, and endeavour of our reason and grace 
 (not only by the mere impotency of our nature) in reference to 
 all created objects. Whereas, in reference to the infinite un- 
 created Good, towards which there is no danger or possibility 
 of exceeding in our affection, we are never to design to our- 
 selves any limits at all ; for that would suppose we had loved 
 God enough, or as much as he deserved, which were not only 
 to limit ourselves, but him too ; and were a constructive denial 
 of his infinite immense goodness, and consequently of his very 
 Godhead. Of so great a concernment it is to us, that in the 
 liberty we give our affections, we observe the just difference 
 which ought to be in their exercise, towards God, and towards 
 creatures. 
 
 " It is also to be considered, that the great God is pleased 
 so to condescend, as himself to bear the name and sustain the 
 capacity of our nearest earthly relations ; which implies that 
 what they were to us, in this or that kind, he will be in a 
 transcendent and far more noble kind. I doubt not but your 
 ladyship hath good right to apply to yourself those words of 
 the prophet, ' Thy Maker is thy husband/ Whereupon, as he 
 infinitely transcends all that is delectable in the most excellent 
 earthly relation, it ought to be endeavoured, that the affection 
 placed on him should proportionably excel. I cannot think 
 any person in the world would be a more severe or impartial 
 judge of a criminal affection than your ladyship : or that it 
 would look worse unto any eye, if anyone should so deeply 
 take to heart the death of an unrelated person, as never to 
 take pleasure more in the life, presence, and conversation of 
 one most nearly related. And you do well know that such a 
 height (or that supremacy) of affection as is due to the ever- 
 blessed God, cannot without great injury be placed anywhere 
 else. As we are to have none other God before him, so him 
 alone we are to love with all our heart and soul, and might and 
 mind. 
 
 " And it ought further to be remembered, that whatsoever 
 interest we have or had in any the nearest relative on earth, 
 his interest who made both is far superior. He made us and 
 all things primarily for himself, to serve great and important
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 157 
 
 ends of his own ; so that our satisfaction in any creature is but 
 secondary and collateral to the principal design of its creation. 
 
 " Which consideration would prevent a practical error and 
 mistake that is too usual with pious persons, afflicted with the 
 loss of any near relation, that they think the chief intention of 
 such a providence is their punishment. And hereupon they 
 are apt to justify the utmost excesses of their sorrow upon such 
 an occasion, accounting they can never be sensible enough of 
 the Divine displeasure appearing in it ; and make it their whole 
 business (or employ their time or thoughts beyond a due pro- 
 portion) to find out and fasten upon some particular sin of 
 theirs, which they may judge God was offended with them for, 
 and designed now to punish upon them. It is, indeed, the 
 part of filial ingenuity deeply to apprehend the displeasure of 
 our Father ; and an argument of great sincerity, to be very 
 inquisitive after any sin for which we may suppose him dis- 
 pleased with us, and apt to charge ourselves severely with it, 
 though perhaps, upon utmost inquiry, there is nothing particu- 
 larly to be reflected on, other than common infirmity incident 
 to the best, (and it is well when at length we can make that 
 judgment, because there really is no more, not for that we did 
 not inquire,) and perhaps also God intended no more in such a 
 dispensation, (as to what concerned us in it,) than only, in the 
 general, to take off our minds and hearts more from this world, 
 and draw them more entirely to himself. For if we were never 
 so innocent, must therefore such a relative of ours have been 
 immortal ? But the error in practice as to this case, lies here ; 
 not that our thoughts are much exercised this way, but too 
 much. We ought to consider in every case, principally, that 
 which is principal. God did not create this or that excellent 
 person, and place him for a while in the world, principally to 
 please us ; nor therefore doth he take him away, principally 
 to displease or punish us ; but for much nobler and greater 
 ends which he hath proposed to himself concerning him. 
 Nor are we to reckon ourselves so little interested in the great 
 and sovereign Lord of all, whom we have taken to be our God, 
 and to whom we have absolutely resigned and devoted our- 
 selves, as not to be obliged to consider and satisfy ourselves, 
 in his pleasure, purposes, and ends, more than our own apart 
 from his. 
 
 " Such as he hath pardoned, accepted, and prepared for 
 himself, are to serve and glorify him in a higher and more 
 excellent capacity than they ever could in this wretched world
 
 158 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of ours, and wherein they have themselves the highest satisfac- 
 tion. When the blessed God is pleased in having attained and 
 accomplished the end and intendments of his own boundless 
 love, (too great to be satisfied with the conferring of only 
 temporary favours in this imperfect state,) and they are pleased 
 in partaking the full effects of that love ; who are we, that we 
 should be displeased ? or that we should oppose our satisfaction, 
 to that of the glorious God and his glorified creature ? There- 
 fore, madam, whereas you cannot avoid to think much on this 
 subject, and to have the removal of that incomparable person 
 for a great theme of your thoughts, I do only propose most 
 humbly to your honour, that you would not confine them to the 
 sadder and darker part of that theme. It hath also a bright 
 side ; and it equally belongs to it, to consider whither he is 
 gone, and to whom, as whence and from whom. Let, I beseech 
 you, your mind be more exercised in contemplating the 
 glories of that state your blessed consort is translated unto, 
 which will mingle pleasure and sweetness with the bitterness 
 of your afflicting loss, by giving you a daily intellectual par- 
 ticipation (through the exercise of faith and hope) in his enjoy- 
 ments. He cannot descend to share with you in your sorrows; 
 you may thus every day ascend, and partake with him in his 
 joys. He is a pleasant subject to consider : a prepared spirit 
 made meet for an inheritance with them that are sanctified, 
 and with the saints in light, now entered into a state so con- 
 natural, and wherein it finds everything most agreeable to 
 itself. How highly grateful is it to be united with the true 
 centre, and come home to the Father of spirits ! To consider 
 how pleasant a welcome, how joyful an entertainment he hath 
 met with above ; how delighted an associate he is ' with the 
 general assembly, the innumerable company of angels, and the 
 spirits of just men made perfect ; ' how joyful a homage he 
 continually pays to the throne of the celestial King ! 
 
 "Will your ladyship think that a hard saying of our depart- 
 ing Lord to his mournful disciples, ' If ye loved me, ye would 
 rejoice that I said, I go to the Father ; for my Father is greater 
 than I ? ' As if he said, he sits enthroned in higher glory 
 than you can frame any conception of, by beholding me in so 
 mean a condition on earth. We are as remote, and as much 
 short in our thoughts as to the conceiving the glory of the 
 Supreme King, as a peasant, who never saw anything better 
 than his own cottage, from conceiving the splendour of the 
 most glorious prince's court. But if that faith, which ' is the
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 159 
 
 substance of things hoped for/ and 'the evidence of things 
 not seen/ be much accustomed to its proper work and business, 
 the daily delightful visiting and viewing the glorious invisible 
 regions ; if it be often conversant in those vast and spacious 
 tracts of pure and brightest light, and amongst the holy in- 
 habitants that replenish them; if it frequently employ itself in 
 contemplating their comely order, perfect harmony, sublime 
 wisdom, unspotted purity, most fervent mutual 1 )ve, delicious 
 conversation with one another, and perpetual pleasant consent 
 in their adoration and observance of their eternal King ; who 
 is there to whom it would not be a solace to think, ' I have 
 such and such friends and relatives (some perhaps as dear as 
 my own life) perfectly well pleased and happy among them ? ' 
 How can your love, Madam, (so generous a love towards so 
 deserving an object !) how can it but more fervently sparkle 
 in joy for his sake, than dissolve in tears for your own ? 
 
 "Nor should such thoughts excite over-hasty, impatient 
 desires of following presently into heaven, but to the endea- 
 vours of serving God more cheerfully on earth for our appointed 
 time : which I earnestly desire your ladyship would apply 
 yourself to, as you would not displease God, who is your only 
 hope, nor be cruel to yourself, nor dishonour the religion of 
 Christians, as if they had no other consolations than this earth 
 can give, and earthly power take from them. Your ladyship 
 (if any one) would be loth to do anything unworthy your 
 family and parentage. Your highest alliance is to that Father 
 and family above, whose dignity and honour are, I doubt not, 
 of highest account with you. . 
 
 "I multiply words, being loth to lose my design; and shall 
 only add that consideration, which cannot but be valuable with 
 you, upon his first proposal, who had all the advantages ima- 
 ginable to give it its full weight ; I mean that of those dear 
 pledges left behind : my own heart even bleeds to think of the 
 case of those sweet babes, should they be bereaved of their 
 other parent too. And even your continued visible dejection 
 would be their unspeakable disadvantage. You will always 
 naturally create in them a reverence of you ; and I cannot but 
 apprehend how the constant mien, aspect, and deportment of 
 such a parent will insensibly influence the temper of dutiful 
 children; and if that be sad and despondent, depress their 
 spirits, blunt and take off the edge and quickness, upon which 
 their future usefulness and comfort will much depend. Were 
 it possible their now glorious father should visit and inspect
 
 160 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 you, would you not be troubled to behold a frown in that 
 bright serene face ? You are to please a more penetrating 
 eye ; which you will best do, by putting on a temper and de- 
 portment suitable to your weighty charge and duty, and to the 
 great purposes for which God continues you in the world, by 
 giving over unnecessary solitude and retirement, which (though 
 it pleases) doth really prejudice you, and is more than you can 
 bear. Nor can any rules of decency require more. Nothing 
 that is necessary and truly Christian, ought to be reckoned 
 unbecoming. David's example * is of too great authority to 
 be counted a pattern of indecency. The God of heaven lift up 
 the light of his countenance upon you, and thereby put glad- 
 ness into your heart ; and give you to apprehend him saying 
 to you, ' Arise, and walk in the light of the Lord/ 
 
 " That I have used so much freedom in this paper, I make 
 no apology for; but do, therefore, hide myself in the dark, 
 not judging it consistent with that plainness which I thought 
 the case might require, to give any other account of myself, 
 than that I am one deeply sensible of your and your noble 
 relatives' great affliction, and who scarce ever bow the knee 
 before the mercy-seat without remembering it : and who shall 
 ever be, 
 
 " Madam, 
 
 " Your ladyship's 
 
 " Most sincere honourer, and 
 
 " Most humble devoted servant." 
 
 Though this epistle was anonymous, the peculiarities of style 
 and manner, as well as some other circumstances, betrayed the 
 author. The noble lady to whom it was addressed, replied in 
 a letter of thanks, in which she told him, that " he must not 
 expect to be concealed." This led to further correspondence, 
 and eventually to an intimacy with the noble family of Bedford, 
 which continued till his death. 
 
 Who, on perusing the foregoing letter, can forbear to reflect, 
 and to reflect with delight, on the diffusive character of that 
 benevolence in which it originated, and which is so beautifully 
 illustrated at its close ? The illustrious lady to whom it was 
 addressed, was an utter stranger to Howe, or was known to 
 him, only as she was known to all the rest of the world by 
 
 * 2 Sam. xii. 20.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 161 
 
 the fame of her unutterable sorrows. Yet the deep sympathies 
 which the gospel inspired, induced him not only to address 
 this elaborate and most affecting letter of consolation to her, 
 but to make specific mention of her in his private devotions. 
 He assures her that he " seldom bowed his knees before the 
 mercy-seat without remembering her there." 
 
 It is delightful to reflect that this is not a solitary instance,* 
 though a most touching and impressive one, of the expansive 
 spirit of Christian benevolence. Who can tell, indeed, how 
 often that spirit prompts supplications in secret on behalf of 
 those who little know the compassion their sorrows have in- 
 spired, and are personally strangers to the individuals who so 
 benevolently plead for them ? Nay, more ; who can tell how 
 often not only individuals, but communities, have been benefited 
 by the " effectual and fervent," though secret and silent prayer 
 of those who are in Scripture called " the salt of the earth and 
 the light of the world ? " 
 
 Is it fanciful to suppose, that in heaven, (where the methods 
 of the Divine Providence, and the complicated system of means 
 and instruments it has adopted, will, there is reason to believe, 
 be more fully explained to us,) one source of delight to many, 
 will be the grateful discovery that on earth they have had un- 
 known friends ; friends who have interceded for them in 
 secret ; friends who, in these, the highest exercises of charity, 
 as well as in those of a more ordinary benevolence, have not 
 suffered their " left hand to know " what " their right hand 
 did?" 
 
 In 1 684, Howe published his treatise, entitled " The Ee- 
 deemer's Tears wept over Lost Souls : with an Appendix, 
 where somewhat is occasionally discoursed concerning the 
 Blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, and how God is said to 
 will the salvation of them that perish." 
 
 During this year, the nonconformists were persecuted 
 with the most unrelenting ferocity. Not only sins of " com- 
 
 * For an illustration of these remarks, see the affecting correspondence be- 
 tween Mr. Sheppard and Lord Byron, in the well-known work entitled, 
 " Thoughts on Private Devotion," pp. 343-350. 
 
 M
 
 162 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 mission/' but those of " omission," were visited upon them : 
 they were punished, not merely for frequenting the conven- 
 ticle, but for not going to church, and for not taking the 
 sacrament. In short, all those merciless laws which had been 
 enacted a century before, and which bigotry, at much earlier 
 and less enlightened periods, had often suffered to slumber, 
 were now rigorously enforced against the unhappy dissidents. 
 
 To the shame of the episcopal bench, there were not wanting 
 bishops, who hallooed on the inferior clergy and the civil 
 magistrates, in this cruel and ignoble sport. Amongst them 
 was Barlow, Bishop of Lincoln, of whom better things might 
 have been expected ; but who now published, (concurrently 
 with a most cruel order of the justices of the peace in a par\ 
 of his diocese,* bearing date, January 14, 1684) a most in- 
 temperate address to his clergy, on the necessity of enforcing 
 the laws against the nonconformists. 
 
 On this, Howe sent him an anonymous letter of expostula- 
 tion, of which a copy has happily been preserved. It was 
 surely impossible for the prelate, however angry his present 
 mood, to read it without some relentings of heart, inspired as 
 it was by a spirit so beautifully contrasted with that which 
 had dictated his own mischievous and cruel appeal. Howe 
 concludes his letter with the prayer, that if the prelate " had 
 either misjudged, or misdone against his judgment, God would 
 rectify his error by gentler methods and by less affliction than 
 he had designed for his brethren ; " and with the expression 
 of his belief, that ' ' he did not doubt after all (any more for the 
 prelate's part than for his own) to meet him one day in that 
 place where Luther and Zuinglius were well agreed." 
 
 " Right Reverend, 
 
 "As I must confess myself surprised by your late pub- 
 lished directions to your clergy of the county of Bedford, so 
 nor will I dissemble, that I did read them with some trouble 
 of mind, which I sincerely profess, was more upon your lord- 
 ship's account than my own, (who for myself, am little con- 
 cerned,) or any other particular person's whatsoever. It was 
 
 * County of Bedford.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 163 
 
 such as it had not been very difficult for me to have concealed 
 in my own breast, or only to have expressed it to God in my 
 prayers for you, (which, through his grace, I have not alto- 
 gether omitted to do,) if I had not apprehended it not utterly 
 impossible, (as I trust I might, without arrogating unduly to 
 myself,) that some or other of those thoughts, which I have 
 revolved in my own mind upon this occasion, being only 
 hinted to your lordship, might appear to your very sagacious 
 judgment (for which I have had long, and have still, a con- 
 tinuing veneration) some way capable of being cultivated by 
 your own mature and second thoughts, so as not to be wholly 
 unuseful to your lordship. 
 
 " My own judgment, such as it is, inclines me not to oppose 
 anything, either, 1 . To the lawfulness of the things themselves 
 which you so much desire should obtain in the practice of the 
 people under your lordship's pastoral inspection : or, 2. To 
 the desirable comeliness of an uniformity in the public and 
 solemn worship of God : or, 3. To the fitness of making laws 
 for the effecting of such uniformity : or, 4. To the execution 
 of such laws, upon some such persons as may possibly be 
 found among so numerous a people as are under your lordship's 
 care. 
 
 " But the things which I humbly conceive are to be delibe- 
 rated on, are, 1. Whether all the laws that are in being about 
 matters of that nature, ought now to be executed upon all the 
 persons which any way transgress them, without distinction 
 of either ? 2. Whether it was so well, that your lordship 
 should advise and press that indistinct execution, which the 
 order (to which the subjoined directions of your lordship do 
 succenturiate) seems to intend ; supposing that designed exe- 
 cution were fit in itself. 
 
 " I shall not need to speak severally to these heads : your 
 lordship will sufficiently distinguish what is applicable the one 
 way or the other. But I humbly offer to your lordship's 
 further consideration, whether it be not a supposable thing, 
 that some persons, sound in the faith, strictly orthodox in all 
 the articles of it taught by our Lord Jesus or his apostles, 
 resolvedly loyal, and subject to the authority of their gover- 
 nors in church and state, of pious, sober, peaceable, just, 
 charitable dispositions and deportments, may yet (while they 
 agree with your lordship in that evident principle, both by the 
 law of nature and Scripture, that their prince and inferior 
 rulers ought to be actively obeyed in all lawful things) have a
 
 164 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 formed fixed judgment (for what were to be done in the case 
 of a mere doubt, that hath not arrived to a settled prepondera- 
 tion this way or that, is not hard to determine) of the unlaw- 
 fulness of some or other of the rites and modes of worship 
 enjoined to be observed in this church ? For my own part, 
 though, perhaps, I should not be found to differ much from 
 your lordship in most of the things here referred unto, I do 
 yet think that few metaphysical questions are disputed with 
 nicer subtlety, than the matter of the ceremonies has been by 
 Archbishop Whitgift, Cartwright, Hooker, Parker, Dr. Burgess, 
 Dr. Ames, Gillespy, Jeanes, Calderwood, Dr. Owen, Baxter, 
 etc. Now, is it impossible that a sincere and sober Christian 
 may, with an honest heart, have so weak intellectuals, as not to 
 be able to understand all the punctilios upon which a right 
 judgment of such a matter may depend? And is it not 
 possible there may be such a thing as a mental as well as a 
 merely sensitive antipathy, not vincible by ordinary methods ? 
 Is there no difference to be put between things essential to our 
 religion, and things confessed indifferent on the one hand, and 
 on the other judged unlawful ; on both hands but accidental ? 
 (though they that think them unlawful dare not allow themselves 
 a liberty of sinning even in accidentals.) If your lordship were 
 the l paterfamilias ' to a numerous family of children and 
 servants, among whom one or other very dutiful child takes 
 offence, not at the sort of food you have thought fit should be 
 provided, but somewhat in the sauce or way of dressing, which 
 thereupon he forbears ; you try all the means which your 
 paternal wisdom and severity think fit, to overcome that 
 aversion, but in vain ; would you finally famish this child 
 rather than yield to his inclination in so small a thing ? 
 
 " My Lord, your lordship well knows the severity of some of 
 those laws which you press for the execution of, is such as, 
 being executed, they must infer the utter ruin of them who 
 observe them not, in their temporal concernments ; and not 
 that only, but their deprivation of the comfortable advantages 
 appointed by our blessed Lord for promoting their spiritual 
 and eternal well-being. I cannot but be well persuaded not 
 only of the mere sincerity, but eminent sanctity of divers, upon 
 my own knowledge and experience of them, who would sooner 
 die at a stake, than I or any man can prevail with them (not- 
 withstanding our rubric, or whatever can be said to facilitate 
 the matter) to kneel before the consecrated elements at the 
 Lord's table. Would your lordship necessitate such, perdere
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 165 
 
 substantiam propter accidentia ? What if there be considerable 
 numbers of such in your lordship's vastly numerous flock ; will 
 it be comfortable to you, when an account is demanded of your 
 lordship by the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls concerning 
 them, only to be able to say, ' Though, Lord, I did believe the 
 provisions of thine house purchased for them, necessary and 
 highly useful for their salvation, I drove them away as dogs 
 and swine from thy table, and stirred up such other agents as 
 I could influence against them, by whose means I reduced many 
 of them to beggary, ruined many families, banished them into 
 strange countries, where they might (for me) serve other gods ; 
 and this not for disobeying any immediate ordinance or law 
 of thine, but because, for fear of offending thee, they did not 
 in everything comport with my own appointments, or which I 
 was directed to urge and impose upon them ? ' How well 
 would this practice agree with that apostolical precept, Him 
 that is weak in the faith receive, but not to doubtful disputa- 
 tions ? ' I know not how your lordship would relieve yourself 
 in this case, but by saying they were not weak, nor- conscien- 
 tious, but wilful and humoursome. But what shall then be 
 said to the subjoined expostulation, ' Who art thou that judgest 
 thy brother ? we shall all stand before the judgment seat of 
 Christ/ What if they have appeared conscientious, and of a 
 very unblamable conversation in all things else ? What if 
 better qualified for Christian communion in all other respects 
 than thousands you admitted ? If you say you know of none 
 such under your charge so severely dealt with, it will be said, 
 1 Why did you use such severity toward them you did not 
 know ? or urge and animate them to use it, whom you knew 
 never likely to distinguish ? ' A very noted divine of the 
 Church of England said to me in discourse, not very long ago, 
 upon mention of the ceremonies, ' Come, come, the Christian 
 church and religion is in a consumption ; and it ought to be 
 done as in the case of consumptive persons shave off the hair 
 to save the life/ Another (a dignified person) present, replied, 
 ' I doubt not it will be so in the Philadelphian state/ 1 long 
 thought few had been in the temper of their minds nearer it 
 than your lordship ; and am grieved, not that I so judged, but 
 that I am mistaken ; and to see your lordship the first public 
 example to the rest of your order in such a course. Blessed 
 Lord ! how strange is it that so long experience will not let us 
 see, that little and so very disputable matters can never be the 
 terms of union so much to be desired in the Christian church;
 
 166 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 and that, in such a case as ours is, nothing will satisfy but the 
 destruction of them, whose union upon so nice terms we cannot 
 obtain ; and then to call solitudinem, pacem ! But we must, it 
 seems, understand all this rigour your lordship shows, to pro- 
 ceed from love, and that you are for destroying the Dissenters 
 only to mend their understandings, and because afflictio dai 
 intellectum. I hope, indeed, God will sanctify the affliction 
 which you give and procure them, to blessed purposes ; and, 
 perhaps, periissent nisi periissent : but for the purposes your 
 lordship seems to aim at, I wonder what you can expect. Can 
 you, by undoing men, change the judgment of their con- 
 sciences ? or if they should tell you, f We do, indeed, in our 
 consciences judge, we shall greatly offend God by complying 
 with your injunctions ; but yet, to save being undone, we will 
 do it ; ' will this qualify them for your communion ? If your 
 lordship think still you have judged and advised well in this 
 matter, you have the judgment of our sovereign, upon twelve 
 years' experience, lying against you : you have, as to one of 
 the laws you would have executed, the judgment of both Houses 
 of Parliament against you, who passed a Bill (to which, perhaps, 
 you consented, for taking it away. You have (as to all of 
 them) the judgment of the last House of Commons sitting at 
 Westminster, so far as to the season then, of executing those 
 laws. It may be your lordship thinks it now a fitter season ; 
 but if you have misjudged, or misdone against your judgment, 
 I pray God to rectify your error by gentler methods, and by 
 less affliction, than you have designed to your brethren ; and 
 do not, for all this, doubt (any more for your part than my 
 own) to meet you there, one day, where Luther and Zuinglius 
 are well agreed. If I did think that would contribute any- 
 thing to the honest and truly charitable design of this letter, I 
 should freely, and at large, tell you my name ; and do, however, 
 tell you I am, 
 
 " A sincere honourer of your lordship, 
 
 " And your very faithful, humble Servant."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FEOM 1685 TO 1690. 
 
 CONDUCT OP HOWE IN PERSECUTION IS INVITED BY LORD WHABTON TO ACCOMPANY 
 HIM IN HIS TRAVELS ON THB CONTINENT HIS LETTER OF FAREWELL TO HIS 
 FLOCK REFLECTIONS SETTLES AT UTRECHT MODE OF LIFE THERE CORRES- 
 PONDENCE WITH LADY RUSSELL INTERVIEW WITH BURNBT IS INTRODUCED TO 
 
 THE PRINCE OF ORANGE INDULGENCE OF JAMES II. HOWE RETURNS HOME 
 
 CONDUCT OF THE NONCONFORMISTS WITH RESPECT TO THE DESIGNS OF THE 
 COURT HOWE'S INTERVIEW WITH THE KING CURIOUS SCENE AT DR. SHER- 
 LOCK'S THE REVOLUTION OF 1688 HOWE'S ADDRESS TO THE PRINCE OF ORANGE 
 
 HOWE'S LETTER ON BEHALF OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS HE PUBLISHES 
 
 HIS " CASE OF THE DISSENTERS REPRESENTED AND ARGUED " ACT OF TOLERA- 
 TION HOWE'S ADDRESS TO THE CONFORMISTS AND NONCONFORMISTS ON THAT 
 EVENT. 
 
 IT was remarked in the Introductory Chapter, that it seems to 
 have been the habitual desire of Howe to render all the 
 events of life, every combination of external circumstances in 
 which he might be placed, subservient to the sublime purposes 
 of spiritual discipline. Of the success with which his efforts were 
 attended, a more signal proof can hardly be imagined than the 
 even temper, the serene spirit of meekness and love, which he 
 maintained amidst the severest persecution ; and of the many 
 exhibitions of excellence with which his character delights us, 
 none inspires us with greater delight than this. As the main- 
 tenance of a truly Christian spirit is far more difficult under 
 such circumstances than under any other, so, when it is main- 
 tained, it argues a proportionate energy of religious principle. 
 
 " Persecution," as the intrepid John Hicks said to Charles 
 II., " will drive a wise man mad." Though it does not justify, 
 it almost inevitably excites a bitter and vindictive spirit. Such 
 feelings may be less criminal than the conduct which has pro- 
 voked them, but they are still flagrantly inconsistent with the 
 spirit of the gospel. Yet rare indeed is that command of
 
 168 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 temper that deep and all-pervading charity which, under 
 the burning consciousness of wrong, can suppress the emotions 
 o anger and impatience. This, however, was the case with 
 Howe. Injury and oppression could not discompose his calm 
 and stedfast spirit ; or, rather, they only served to exhibit, in 
 novel and striking aspects, the various excellence of his cha- 
 racter. To a spirit such as his, the darkest scenes of persecu- 
 tion were but what the clouds of evening are to the setting 
 sun, which, so fur from obscuring, transmit and diffuse its 
 radiance. Of this, one instance has been already furnished in 
 the letter which concludes the preceding chapter ; and the 
 document, which I am about to lay before the reader, furnishes 
 another still more remarkable. 
 
 In 1685, the persecution of the nonconformists had reached 
 its height, and the prospect at home was in every respect most 
 gloomy.' 55 ' Under these circumstances, Howe gladly embraced 
 the invitation of Philip, Lord Wharton, {; to accompany him in 
 his travels on the Continent. The interval which elapsed 
 between the proposal and his departure (which was in August) 
 was so short, that he could take no formal leave of his people. 
 From the Continent, therefore, he sent them a most affecting 
 farewell letter. 
 
 In this letter, he says little (though what he does say is 
 deeply touching) of the sufferings he must have undergone 
 previously to his leaving England. It was not his wont to 
 speak much of himself. 
 
 His main solicitude is evidently for the welfare of his flock. 
 That this might be truly promoted, he exhorts them to en- 
 deavour to attain a more deep, habitual, practical sense of 
 religion ; and, at the conclusion, guards them against indulg- 
 ing, under the pressure of persecution and suffering, in a spirit 
 either of repining towards God, or of bitterness towards man. 
 
 * See Howe's own dreadful account of the sufferings of the nonconformists in 
 the " Case of the Dissenters ; " inserted further on. 
 
 t This nobleman had taken an active part in favour of -the Parliament against 
 Charles I. He was one of the lay members of the Westminster Assembly, and 
 a decided nonconformist. Locke gives him the character of "an old expert 
 Parliament man, of eminent piety and abilities ; a great friend to the Protestant 
 religion and interest of England."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 169 
 
 He declares that one of his own chief consolations in suffering 
 has been his " consciousness that he had no other than kind or 
 benign thoughts towards those whom he has suffered by, and 
 that his heart tells him he desires not the least hurt to those 
 that would do him the greatest ; that he feels within himself 
 an unfeigned love and high estimation of divers of them, ac- 
 counting them pious, worthy persons, and hoping to meet 
 them in the all-reconciling world." The all-reconciling world ! 
 How beautiful is that expression ! 
 
 The whole document, which is strikingly characteristic of 
 his contempt for the distinctions of party, of his supreme 
 regard for the essence of religion in whatsoever party found, 
 and of his devotedness as a pastor, is here subjoined : 
 
 TO SUCH IN AND ABOUT LONDON, AMONG WHOM I HAVE 
 LABOUEED IN THE WORK OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 11 My most dearly beloved in our blessed Lord and Saviour 
 Jesus Christ, grace, mercy, and peace be through him multi- 
 plied unto you. 
 
 "That I am, at this time, at this distance from you, is, I am 
 persuaded, (upon the experience I have had of your great love 
 and value of my poor labours,) not pleasant to you, and I do 
 assure you it is grievous to me, though I murmur not at the 
 wise and holy Providence that hath ordered things thus, in 
 reference to you and me : but it added to my trouble, that I 
 could not so much as bid farewell to persons to whom I had so 
 great endearments, the solemnity whereof you know our cir- 
 cumstances would not admit. Nor could I have opportunity 
 to communicate to you the grounds of my taking this long 
 journey, being under promise, while the matter was under 
 consideration, not to speak of it to any one that was not con- 
 cerned immediately about it : neither could I think that im- 
 prudent in itself, where acquaintance was so numerous, silence 
 towards dearest friends in such cases usually being designed 
 for an apology to all others. And, after the resolution was 
 taken, my motion depending on another, I had not time for 
 that, or any such purposes. And should I yet communicate 
 them, as they lie particularly in my own thoughts, it would 
 lose time that I may more profitably employ for both you and 
 myself, while I do it not. You will, I may be confident, be
 
 170 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 more prudent and equal, than to judge of what you do not 
 know : but so much I shall in the general say, that the provi- 
 dence of God gave me the prospect of a present quiet abode, 
 with some opportunity of being serviceable ; (and 1 hope, as it 
 may prove through his help and blessing, unto you, if I have 
 life and health to finish what I have been much pressed by 
 some of yourselves to go on with ;) which opportunity I could 
 not hope to have nearer you, at least without being unreason- 
 ably burdensome to some, while I was designing service, as 
 much as in me lay, to all. It much satisfies me that I have a 
 record above, I am not designing for myself ; that he who 
 knoweth all things, knows I love not this present world, and I 
 covet not an abode in it, (nor have I when it was most friendly 
 to me,) upon any other account than upon doing some service 
 to him, and the souls of men. It therefore has been my 
 settled habitual sense and sentiment a long time, to value and 
 desire (with submission to sovereign good pleasure) peace and 
 quiet, with some tolerable health, more than life. Nor have 
 I found anything more destructive to my health, than confine- 
 ment to a room a few days in the city air, which was much 
 better and more healthful to me formerly, than since the anger 
 and jealousies of such as I never had a disposition to offend, 
 have of later times occasioned persons of my circumstances 
 very seldom to walk the streets. 
 
 " But my hope is, God will in his good time incline the hearts 
 of rulers more to favour such as cannot be satisfied with the 
 public constitutions in the matter of God's worship, and that 
 are innocent and peaceable in the land ; and that my absence 
 from you will be for no long time, it being my design, with de- 
 pendence upon his gracious providence and pleasure, in whose 
 hands our times are, if I hear of any door open for service with 
 you, to spend the health and strength which God shall vouch- 
 safe me, (and which I find through his mercy much improved 
 since I left you,) in his work with and among you. In the 
 meantime, I believe it will not be unacceptable to you, that I 
 offer you some of my thoughts and counsels, for your present 
 help, such as are not new to me, nor as you will find to your- 
 selves, who are my witnesses that I have often inculcated such 
 things to you ; but they may be useful to stir you up, by put- 
 ting you in remembrance. 
 
 " I. I beseech you, more earnestly endeavour to reduce the 
 things you know (and have been by many hands instructed in 
 out of the gospel of our Lord) to practice. Nothing can be
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 171 
 
 more absurd than to content ourselves with only a notional 
 knowledge of practical matters. We should think so in other 
 cases. As if any man should satisfy himself to know the use 
 of food, but famish himself by never eating any, when he hath 
 it at hand : or that he understands the virtues of this or that 
 cordial, but languishes away to death in the neglect of using 
 it, when it might cheer his spirits, and save his life. And the 
 neglect of applying the great things of the gospel to the proper 
 uses and purposes of the Christian life, is not more foolish, 
 (only as the concernments they serve for are more important,) 
 but much more sinful and provoking to God. For we are to 
 consider whence the revelation comes. They are things which 
 the mouth of the Lord hath spoken ; uttered by the breath of 
 the eternal God, as all Scriptures are said to be. God-breathed, 
 as that expression may be literally rendered. 
 
 '' And how high a contempt and provocation is it of the 
 great God, so totally to pervert and disappoint the whole 
 design of that revelation he hath made to us, to know the great 
 things contained therein, only for knowing sake, which he hath 
 made known that we might live by them. And, oh ! what 
 holy and pleasant lives should we lead in this world, if the 
 temper and complexion of our souls did answer and correspond 
 to the things we know ! The design of preaching has been 
 greatly mistaken, when it has been thought it must still acquaint 
 them who live (and especially who have long lived) under it, 
 with some new thing. Its much greater and more important 
 design is, the impressing of known things (but too little con- 
 sidered) upon the hearts of hearers, that they may be delivered 
 up into the mould and form of the doctrine taught them ; and 
 may so learn Christ, as more and more to be renewed in the 
 spirit of their minds, and put off the old man and put on the 
 new. The digesting our food is what God now eminently 
 calls for. 
 
 "II. More particularly labour to have your apprehensions of 
 the future state of the unseen world and eternal things, made 
 more lively and efficacious daily, and that your faith of them 
 may be such as may truly admit to be called the very substance 
 and evidence of those things. Shall that glorious everlasting 
 state of things be always as a dark shadow with us, or as 
 the images we have of things in a dream, ineffectual and 
 vanishing, only because we have not seen with our eyes, where 
 God himself hath by his express word made the representa- 
 tions of them to us, who never deceived us, as our own eyes
 
 172 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 and treacherous senses have done ? Why do we not live as 
 just now entering into the eternal state, and as if we now 
 beheld the glorious appearing of the great God our Saviour, 
 when we are as much assured of them, as if we beheld them ? 
 Why do we not oftener view the representation of the heavens 
 vanishing, the elements melting, the earth flaming, the angels 
 everywhere dispersed to gather the elect, and them ascending, 
 caught up to meet the Redeemer in the air, ever to be with the 
 Lord ? What a trifle will the world be to us then ! 
 
 " III. Let the doctrine of the Redeemer be more studied, 
 and of his mighty undertaking, with the immediate design of 
 it, not merely to satisfy for sin by the sacrifice he once for all 
 made of himself, and so to procure our pardon and justifica- 
 tion without effecting anything upon us, but to redeem us from 
 all iniquity, to purify us to himself, and to form us after his 
 own holy likeness, and for such purposes to give his Holy 
 Spirit to us. Consider that our Redeemer is mighty, who hath 
 such kind designs upon us ; and that as they shall not there- 
 fore finally fail of accomplishment, so will they be carried on 
 without interruption, and with discernible success, if we fail 
 not as to what part (in subordination to him) belongs to us. 
 How cheerfully should the redeemed of the Lord go on in. 
 their course, under such conduct ! 
 
 " IV. Endeavour your faith may be stronger, more efficacious 
 and practical, concerning the doctrine of providence, and that 
 the workings and events of it lie all under the management 
 and in the hand of the Redeemer, who is Head over all things 
 to the church : that therefore how grievous and bitter soever 
 be his people's lot and portion at any time, there cannot but 
 be kindness at the bottom ; and that, not only designing the 
 best end, but taking the fittest way to it. For can love itself 
 be unkind, so as not to design well ? or wisdom itself err so 
 as to take an improper course in order thereto ? Hereupon 
 let not your spirits be imbittered by the present dispensation 
 of Providence you are under, whereby you are in so great a 
 part deprived of the helps and means of your spiritual advan- 
 tage, which you like and relish most. And to this purpose 
 consider 
 
 " 1. Our wise and merciful Lord (though perhaps such means 
 might be in some measure useful to us) doth for the present 
 judge that his rebuking our undue use of them will be more 
 useful ; either overvaluing or undervaluing his instruments,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 173 
 
 turning his ordinances into mere formalities, preferring the 
 means of grace (as they are fitly called) before the end, grace 
 itself. 
 
 "2. Consider whether there be no disposition of spirit to 
 treat others as you are treated. The inward temper of our 
 minds and spirits is so much the more narrowly to be inspected, 
 by how much the less there is opportunity to discover it by 
 outward acts. As to such as differ from us about the forms 
 and ceremonies that are now required in the worship of God, 
 would we not be glad if they were as much restrained from 
 using them in their worship, as we from worshipping without 
 them ? And do not we think that that would as much grieve 
 them, as our restraint doth us ? And why should we suppose 
 that their way should not as much suit their spirits, and be as 
 grateful to them, as ours to us ? ' But we are in the right 
 way/ some will say, f and they in the wrong : ' and why can- 
 not any man say the same thing with as much confidence as 
 we ? Or, do we think there is no difference to be put between 
 controversies about matter of circumstance, and about the 
 essentials of Christianity ? Undoubtedly, till those that affect 
 the name of the Reformed, and count it more their glory to be 
 called Protestants than to be good Christians, have learnt to 
 mingle more justice with their religion, and how better to 
 apply that great advice of our Lord's, ' Whatsoever ye would 
 that men should do to you, do that to them/ and till they 
 become studious of excelling other men, in substantial good- 
 ness, abstractedness from the world, meekness, humility, 
 sobriety, self-denial, and charity, and to lay a greater stress 
 hereon than on being of one or other denomination, God's con- 
 troversy will not cease. 
 
 " I reckon it much to be considered, and I pray you con- 
 sider it deeply, that after that great precept, ' Grieve not the 
 Holy Spirit of God/ it immediately follows, ' Let all bitterness, 
 and anger, and wrath, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put 
 away from you, with all malice : ' plainly implying that the 
 Spirit of God, that Spirit of all love, goodness, sweetness, and 
 benignity, is grieved by nothing more than by our bitterness, 
 wrathfulness, etc. And it appears that the discernible restraint 
 and departure of that blessed Spirit from the church of Christ 
 in so great a measure, for many foregoing generations, in com- 
 parison of the plentiful effusion of it in ' the first age, hath 
 ensued upon the growth of that wrathful contentious spirit 
 which showed itself early in the Gnostic,but much more in the
 
 74 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 after Arian persecution, which was not in some places less 
 bloody than the pagan persecution had been before. Oh, the 
 gentleness, kindness, tenderness, and compassionateness of the 
 evangelical, truly Christian spirit, as it most eminently appeared 
 in our Lord Jesus Christ himself ! And we are told, ' If any 
 man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his/ And 
 how easy and pleasant is it to one's own self, to be void of all 
 wrathfulness, and vindictive designs or inclinations towards 
 any other man ! For my own part, I should not have that 
 peace and consolation in a suffering condition, (as my being so 
 many years under restraint from that pleasant work of pleading 
 with sinners that they might be saved, is the greatest suffer- 
 ing I was liable to in this world,) as through the goodness of 
 God I have found, and do find, were I not conscious to myself 
 of no other than kind and benign thoughts towards them I 
 have suffered by, and that my heart tells me I desire not the 
 least hurt to them that would do me the greatest ; and that I 
 feel within myself an unfeigned love and high estimation of 
 divers, accounting them pious worthy persons, and hoping to 
 meet them in the all-reconciling world, that are yet (through 
 some mistake) too harsh towards us who dissent from them ; 
 and in things of this nature I pray that you and I may abound 
 more and more. 
 
 " But again, as I would not have your spirits imbittered, so 
 I would not have your spirits discouraged, or sunk in dejection. 
 ' The Lord will not cast off his people, because it hath pleased 
 him to make them his people ; ' I do not mean those of this 
 or that party, but who fear God and work righteousness, be 
 they of what party soever. As I often think of that saying 
 of an ancient, Clement of Alexandria, that he counted not that 
 philosophy, which was peculiar to this or that sect, but what- 
 soever of truth was to be found in any of them, so I say of 
 Christianity ; it is not that which is appropriate to this or that 
 party, but whatsoever of sincere religion shall be found common 
 to them all. Such will value and love his favour and presence, 
 and shall have it ; and he will yet have such a people in the 
 world, and, I doubt not, more numerous than ever. And as 
 the bitterness of Christians one towards another chased away 
 his Spirit, his Spirit shall vanquish and drive away all that 
 bitterness, and consume our other dross. And as the apostasy 
 long ago foretold, and of so long continuance in the Christian 
 church, hath been begun and continued by constant war against 
 the Spirit of Christ ; the restitution and recovery of the church,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 175 
 
 and the reduction of Christianity to its ancient self, and 
 primitive state, will be by the victory of the Spirit of Christ 
 over that so contrary spirit. Then shall all the enmity, pride, 
 wrathfulness, and cruelty, which have rent the church of Christ 
 and made it so little itself, be melted down ; and with all their 
 great impurities besides, earthliness, carnality, love of this 
 present world, and prevalence of sensual lusts, be purged more 
 generally away; and his repairing work be done in a way 
 grievous to no one, whereby those that are most absolutely 
 conquered will be most highly pleased : not by might or by 
 power, but by the Spirit of the Lord. 
 
 " In the meantime let us draw nigh to God, and he will 
 draw nigh to us. Let us more study the exercising ourselves 
 to godliness, and take heed of turning the religion of our 
 closets into spiritless, uncomfortable formalities. ' Their hearts 
 shall live that seek God.' 
 
 " To that blessed, and faithful, and covenant-keeping God 
 I commit you ; and ' to the word of his grace, which is able to 
 build you up further, and give you an inheritance among them 
 that are sanctified/ 
 
 " And as I hope I shall without ceasing remember you in 
 mine, so I hope you will remember too in your prayers, 
 " Your sincerely affectionate, 
 
 " Though too unprofitable, 
 
 " Servant in Christ, 
 
 " JOHN HOWE." 
 
 In company with Lord Wharton, Howe visited some of the 
 most celebrated cities in Europe, and enjoyed literary inter- 
 course with learned men of all parties. 
 
 As he received no tidings from England which could induce 
 him to return home, he settled, in 1686, (after having spent a 
 year in travel,) at Utrecht. Here he took a large house for 
 the reception of English lodgers ; probably at the suggestion 
 of some of his more wealthy fellow-exiles, who felt the desira- 
 bleness of such an establishment. Amongst other inmates he 
 had the Earl and Countess of Sutherland, several English 
 gentlemen, and his nephews, George and John Hughes. 
 
 Nor was he entirely without opportunity of exercising his 
 ministry. Sad, indeed, would have been his circumstances 
 had he been compelled utterly to abandon duties to which he
 
 176 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 had dedicated his life, and which to him formed the sweetest 
 solace of adversity. 
 
 ,While at Utrecht, he regularly preached in turn at the 
 English church, with the Rev. Messrs. Matthew Mead, Wood- 
 cock, and Cross ; men who, like himself, had preferred exile 
 in Holland to persecution at home. These worthy men fre- 
 quently spent, together days of prayer for their unhappy and 
 degraded country. On the evening of every Lord's day, Howe 
 performed Divine service in his own household. 
 
 Nor were these the only modes in which he endeavoured to 
 be useful during his sojourn in Holland. As there were 
 several English students at the University, preparing for the 
 ministry, he kindly consented to hear their " orations and dis- 
 putations," at his own house ; and gave them instruction and 
 advice as to the best method of pursuing their studies. Such 
 a man as Howe could not be idle. He was one who, wherever 
 he was, would either find opportunities of doing good, or make 
 them. 
 
 Several Englishmen of rank and fortune were staying in 
 Holland during Howe's residence there ; like himself, expatri- 
 ated by persecution. Amongst them were Sir John Thompson,* 
 Sir John Guise, Sir Patience Ward, and Thomas Papillon, 
 Esq.,f with whom he formed a close intimacy. The professors 
 of the University uniformly treated him with the utmost re- 
 spect, and afforded him the advantages of learned society. 
 
 While at Utrecht, the following curious correspondence 
 passed between Howe and Lady Rachel Russell. The letters 
 are extracted from the collection published some years ago 
 from the Devonshire MSS., by the editor of Madame du Def- 
 fand's Letters. 
 
 * Afterwards Lord Haversham. He is often mentioned cursorily by Burnet. 
 He was of a republican family. This recommended him to the Earl of Anglesey, 
 a patron of the Dissenters. He married Frances, the daughter of that earl, 
 who strongly recommended him to the good graces of Charles II. The King 
 made him a baronet. During the reign of James II. he joined the party of the 
 Prince of Orange, who made him a baron and lord of the admiralty. " After- 
 wards," says Walpole, " he seems entirely to have abandoned his first principles, 
 and to have given himself up to the high church party, though he continued 
 to go sometimes to meetings." 
 
 t First Commissioner of the Victualling Office in the reign of William III. 
 De Foe gives him a very high character.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 177 
 
 Howe's letter contains nothing less than certain overtures 
 of " an advantageous marriage," between Frances, the widow 
 of Lloyd, Esq., a lady of great fortune and accomplish- 
 ments, and Mr. (afterwards Lord) Edward Russell, brother-in- 
 law to Lady Eachel Russell. He was long member for the 
 county of Bedford. The proposed marriage afterwards took 
 place, " with much happiness to both parties." 
 
 This, as we shall afterwards see, was not the only occasion 
 on which Howe's good offices were employed in negotiating 
 marriages between persons of distinction; and his prudence 
 and integrity well qualified him for so delicate a business. 
 
 THE KEV. JOHN HOWE TO LADY EUSSELL. 
 
 " Utrecht, February 9, 1686-7. 
 
 " I doubt not, Madam, but you believe me sincerely willing 
 to serve any relative of your ladyship, or of the honourable 
 family I am about to mention ; and shall therefore forbear 
 everything of apology for the trouble I now give you. If 
 your ladyship think it not unfit to give me a character of my 
 Lord of Bedford's (now) eldest son, and it prove as good, on 
 his part, (which what I already know leaves me little place to 
 doubt of,) as I am sure it will be true on your ladyship's, sup- 
 posing he have not determined still to live single, or be not 
 otherwise pre-engaged, I might perhaps (though I can only 
 promise faithful endeavours) improve it to his advantage with 
 an English lady, my present neighbour, so very deserving in 
 respect of all personal qualifications, family, and fortune, as 
 to be capable of contributing what can be expected from such 
 a relation, to the making a person, suitable to her, very happy 
 in it. It would be requisite, to qualify me for attempting 
 anything herein, that I be able to give an account, besides his 
 strict sobriety, of his seriousness in religion, without being 
 addicted (to the degree of bigotry) unto any the distinguishing 
 modes of it used among sober-minded Protestants ; and (which 
 is a great essential) of that goodness of temper, wherein is a 
 composition of prudence and kindness, that shall neither i ncline 
 to a fond levity nor too morose sourness; together wi:h his 
 certain estate, without reference to such possibilities, as, which 
 God forbid they should, signify anything, either in reality or 
 expectation. I doubt not I might receive very liberal en- 
 comiums of this noble person from other hands ; but if I 
 
 N
 
 178 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 should ever mention such a thing to the lady herself, nothing 
 could give me so great a confidence therein as I should receive 
 from your ladyship's testimony ; nor can anything (upon what 
 I know of her just and high honour for your ladyship) signify 
 so much with her. I apprehend it will be the less incon- 
 venient for your ladyship to give your sense upon this subject, 
 that there will be no need, in doing so, again to mention his 
 name, and that mere silence will serve as to any part (if there 
 should be any) wherein your ladyship cannot allow yourself to 
 be positive ; and it would be the more convenient, for that I 
 doubt not your ladyship can say all that will be for the present 
 requisite, without making any inquiries from a third person, 
 which, as yet, would not be seasonable. 
 
 ' ' Your ladyship so well understands how little reason there 
 is the great and wise Lord and Ruler of all things should make 
 the state of things perfect and unexceptionable, in a world not 
 intended for perpetuity, and designed to be a place of discipline 
 for the exercise and improvement of virtue and religion, not of 
 full rewards for them ; and you are so fully persuaded that the 
 rewards of the other state will be sufficiently ample for all the 
 sufferings and sorrows, wherewith sincerity is often attended 
 in this, that I need wish no more for your ladyship's present 
 continual support and consolation, than thau you may have the 
 constant living sense of what you already know ; which I cease 
 not to pray for to your ladyship, together with the fulness of 
 all blessings upon the most hopeful plants under your care ; as 
 greatly becometh, 
 
 " Most honoured Madam, 
 
 " Your ladyship's most obliged, 
 
 "And most faithfully devoted 
 "Humble Servant, 
 
 " JOHN HOWE." 
 
 The following is Lady Russell's reply : 
 
 FEOM LADY RUSSELL TO KEV. JOHN HOWE. 
 
 "February, 1687. 
 
 " Let me assure Mr. Howe I do not write this with indiffer- 
 ence, upon several accounts. I receive your letter as a kind 
 testimony of your remembrance, which I value very much ; and 
 yet I feel myself more engaged by your zeal to do good to that 
 family I have known so true content in, and am entirely dedi- 
 cated to. It is honourable and worthy in the whole, and every
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 179 
 
 branch of it have their peculiar virtues ; but every highest re- 
 spect (meaning that sex we are to speak of) is placed, where 
 my best and blessed friend placed is. This may possibly be a 
 bar to your concluding, that what I may say should be received 
 as impartially given ; though yet I think it may, since I am 
 sincerest in searching, where I desire to find the fewest faults. 
 Some in this imperfect state must be found in man ; but I do 
 sincerely believe the person is highly qualified to make one 
 happy in the nearest relation we can have upon earth. I would, 
 for no advantage to myself, or friend, deceive any ; especially 
 by false acts, be an instrument to lead one, eminently confident, 
 into error, and so desperate a one, out of which there is no re- 
 covery. But where there is great honour, truth, courage, and 
 great good-nature, what supposition can there be that, when 
 joined with a prudent and virtuous woman, they should not 
 feel the felicity of the happiest state of life ? Self-interest does 
 not bribe me to say this, since now the drudgery of living only 
 remains to me ; but in my pleasant days, so near a relation, so 
 very deserving, must have been gladly received, and even now 
 must be owned a kind providence ; and would undoubtedly not 
 fail to be so by the obliged family, which, I can pronounce, is 
 the easiest to converse or live with, that ever I have known or 
 could observe. There is one particular that, without making 
 inquiries from a third person, (which you are of opinion would 
 not yet be seasonable,) I can give no report of, that is, their 
 certain estate. I am entirely ignorant in that point ; but do 
 imagine Mr. Ashurst not quite so. I am very nice of inquiring 
 into those particulars, of all others ; but I know they have an 
 equal and just father, and what is once promised will be punc- 
 tually performed. Proceedings of this nature can move so slow 
 at such a distance, that more than I have said I do not take to 
 be necessary, in order to your friendly attempting to facilitate 
 a happy union, When the lady is again in England, I shall 
 be early in paying my respects, and with great integrity acquit- 
 ting myself of any part in this affair that can fall upon me ; or, 
 if it sinks into nothing, ever retain the sense of your good- will 
 and forwardness to dispose the lady towards it ; and shall as 
 little fail to acquaint my Lord Bedford, whose mind is ever 
 prepared to all real acknowledgments where he feels himself 
 obliged." 
 
 Among the distinguished men who honoured Howe by their 
 visits while he was in Holland, was Gilbert Burnet (afterwards
 
 180 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Bishop of Sarum), who, when at Utrecht, scrupled not to preach 
 at the English church, and with much liberality openly " ad- 
 vocated occasional communion with those of different senti- 
 ments." Calamy relates, that in a conversation with Howe at 
 this period, Burnet expressed his conviction, " that nonconfor- 
 mity could not last long ; that, after Baxter, Bates, and he 
 (Howe) were once laid in their graves, it would die of itself." 
 Howe replied, that in his opinion, its existence depended much 
 more on principles than on persons ; that the surest as well as 
 speediest method of destroying nonconformity would be to 
 abate the rigour of the terms of conformity j and that unless 
 this were done, in other words, so long as ground was left for 
 conscientious nonconformity, present differences must neces- 
 sarily be perpetuated. The men might die, but the principles 
 would live. 
 
 While in Holland, Howe was honoured by several interviews 
 with William, Prince of Orange, afterward King of England. 
 The prince discoursed with him, says Calamy, "with great 
 freedom, and ever after maintained a great respect for him." * 
 In 1687, James II., suddenly abandoning every principle of 
 his past policy, published his " Declaration for liberty of con- 
 science ; " and Howe's congregation, who were most anxious 
 that he should resume his labours amongst them, wrote to re- 
 mind him that he had promised to do so as soon as circum- 
 stances would permit him. With their request he immediately 
 complied. 
 
 Though the nonconformists, under the shadow of this indul- 
 gence, were now permitted to adopt their own modes of wor- 
 ship without molestation, no one acquainted with the character 
 of the bigoted James, can be in any doubt as to the motives 
 which prompted this unexpected lenity. How, indeed, could 
 it be expected that one, whose whole life had been marked by 
 the blindest bigotry, and whose darling project (pursued at all 
 
 * " I well remember," says Calamy, "that be himself once informed me 
 of some very private conversation he had with that prince (then king) not 
 long before his death. Among other things, the King asked him a ; great 
 many questions about his ' old master, Oliver,' as he called him, and seemed 
 not a little pleased with the answers that were returned to some of his 
 q uestions."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 181 
 
 hazards) was the restoration of Popery, should be favourably 
 disposed towards the principles of toleration ? 
 
 The indulgence, in truth, was nothing but an expedient for 
 sheltering the Papists from persecution, and was designed to 
 prepare the way for an entire repeal of the penal laws with 
 respect to that obnoxious party : in other words, the King sud- 
 denly affected a tolerating spirit merely in order that he might 
 afterwards more effectually serve the designs of persecution. 
 Sooner than the Papists should be persecuted, he was willing 
 that the nonconformists should for a while go free ; and in 
 order to secure his own party from oppression, he was ready 
 to extend protection to others. Thus in the mysterious coun- 
 sels of that Providence, which, when it would give rest to the 
 church of Christ, can compel even her worst enemies to do her 
 service, bigotry, in this instance, toiled in the work of tolera- 
 tion, and the " same fountain/' for once, " sent forth waters 
 both bitter and sweet." But the nonconformists were, in fact, 
 no more indebted for this indulgence to the superstitious James, 
 than their ancestors were, for the blessings of the Reformation, 
 to the licentious Henry. Both monarchs were the reluctant 
 instruments of good. 
 
 The sagacious Prince of Orange showed that he fully saw 
 through the motives of James, in the interview with which 
 Howe was favoured previous to his departure from Utrecht. 
 On that occasion the prince told him that his brethren ought 
 to be very sparing of their " congratulatory addresses ; " that 
 it was their duty to offer the most strenuous resistance to the 
 designs of the court as to the abolition of the penal laws and 
 tests; and implored him to urge on his party the necessity of cir- 
 cumspection. Though some few of the nonconformists, deceived 
 by the King's seeming lenity, indulged in a strain of gratitude 
 which would have soon abated, had they known how very small 
 their obligations were ; and though some of the high church fac- 
 tion (secretly favourable to the King's designs) sent up addresses, 
 conceived in a style of the most fulsome flattery; it is but justice 
 to say, that the bulk of both the great Protestant parties saw 
 through the disguise of royal hypocrisy, and reasonably distrusted 
 a revolution of sentiments and policy so suspiciously sudden.
 
 182 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Nothing can be more noble than the conduct of the noncon- 
 formists on more than one occasion in which the country has 
 been menaced with danger from the designs of Popery.* With 
 a magnanimity which entitles them to the veneration of posterity, 
 they have repeatedly shown their willingness to remain under 
 an undeserved stigma rather than allow a dangerous freedom 
 to the enemies of their country, and to secure the liberty of the 
 nation at the expense of their own. f In the present instance, 
 under the guidance of Howe, and some few others of equal in- 
 fluence and reputation, they maintained their ancient character 
 for integrity. In our day, indeed, a readiness in one party of 
 religionists to sacrifice their own interests, in order to perpet- 
 uate penal laws against another, would be justly thought a 
 most gratuitous display of bigotry. But at that crisis, when 
 the dangers from Popery were so obvious and so imminent ; 
 when the throne was filled by a bigot, resolutely bent on 
 restoring that party to power, the conduct of the nonconfor- 
 mists deserves the praise of the purest patriotism. 
 
 When the court, more fully disclosing its designs, endea- 
 voured to get the nonconformists to sanction the " dispensing 
 power " as applied to the Papists, the bulk of them (amongst 
 whom Howe was foremost) sturdily refused. The spirit with 
 which they were animated, was strikingly exemplified at a 
 meeting, (of which Calamy has preserved an account,) held at 
 Howe's own house. This meeting, it appears, was called for 
 the purpose of " considering the advisableness of drawing up 
 a writing to signify their concurrence with the King, as to the 
 ends of his declaration/' While discussing this question, 
 " two persons came from court, and told them that the King 
 was waiting in his closet, and would not stir from thence till 
 he had received an account of their proceedings." On this, 
 one of the party intimated, " that he thought it but reasonable 
 that they should comply with his majesty's request ; " to 
 which another instantly replied, that " if the King expected 
 
 * As on this, and the yet more memorable occasion of 1673, when the " Test 
 Act" -was passed. 
 
 t See this strongly stated in Howe's " Case of the Protestant Dissenters," on 
 a subsequent page.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 183 
 
 that they should join in approving such a conduct as would 
 give liberty to the Papists, he for one would rather that his 
 majesty should resume their own." Howe, in summing up, 
 told the persons who had come from court, that these were 
 the sentiments of the meeting generally, and instructed them 
 to convey the same to his majesty. 
 
 Calamy confesses, that some few of the ministers, who were 
 afterwards " closeted with the King," and " who received some 
 particular favours, might be drawn too far into the snare ; " 
 but he adds, " that they were very few ; that as soon as their 
 conduct became known, their influence with their party was 
 visibly lessened ; that the far greater number stood out ; and 
 that Howe, particularly, when the King discoursed with him 
 in private, told his majesty ' that he was a minister of the 
 gospel; that it was his province to preach, and endeavour to 
 do good to the souls of men ; but as for meddling with state 
 affairs, he was neither inclined nor called to it, and must beg 
 to be excused.' " 
 
 About this time a circumstance occurred which showed the 
 purity and disinterestedness which habitually actuated Howe's 
 public conduct. The King, in pursuance of his designs, in- 
 sisted that the clergy should read his Declaration of In- 
 dulgence, in their respective churches, throughout the kingdom. 
 Some of the bishops, consulting together, came to the conclu- 
 sion, that to comply with this demand, would be to sanction 
 the "dispensing power." They therefore requested his 
 majesty to excuse them. The petition, in which they' pre- 
 ferred this request, was declared a libel ; and, for presenting 
 it, its authors were committed to the Tower. 
 
 At this important crisis, Howe received an invitation from 
 Dr. Sherlock, then Master of the Temple, to dine with him. 
 Accepting the invitation, Howe found two or three other 
 clergymen assembled to meet him. After dinner, the con- 
 versation naturally turned on the imminent danger with which 
 the Church was threatened. In the midst of it, the Doctor 
 abruptly asked Howe, " what he thought the nonconformists 
 would do, should the preferments of the Church become vacant, 
 and a proposal be made that those vacancies be filled up out
 
 184 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of the ranks of the seceders ? " Howe was so taken by sur- 
 prise, that at first he knew not what to answer. The Doctor 
 then proceeded to give more full expression to his apprehen- 
 sions. He declared, " that the bishops would as certainly be 
 .cast, as they were at that time imprisoned in the Tower : 
 that the rest of the clergy who had so generally refused read- 
 ing the King's declaration, would be treated in the same 
 manner: that it was not to be imagined that their places 
 should be suffered to remain vacant : that no way could be 
 thought of for filling them up, except from among the non- 
 conformists ; and who knows/' he concluded, " but Mr. Howe 
 may be offered the place of Master of the Temple ? " He 
 added, " that he was of course anxious to know how the non- 
 conformists would act under such circumstances ; and that he 
 believed none could satisfy him on that point better than his 
 present visitor." Thus appealed to, Howe replied, that the 
 " issue of the present perplexed state of affairs was altogether 
 uncertain; that it was improbable that Dr. Sherlock's fears 
 should ever be realized; that if they should, he could not 
 venture to answer for the conduct of the nonconformists as 
 a body, as they were split into different parties, and as those 
 parties were actuated by different principles ; that he could 
 answer only for himself; that so far as he was concerned, he 
 did not hesitate to say, that should such an improbable case 
 occur as that which the Doctor had supposed, he should not 
 feel himself warranted in declining altogether an opportunity 
 of more public usefulness, should it be offered on such terms 
 as he could conscientiously accept ; but that as for any emolu- 
 ment accruing from such a situation, he should have nothing to 
 do with it, except as the channel to convey it to the legal 
 proprietor ." This reply threw the Doctor into ecstasies ; he 
 rose from his seat, and, embracing his visitor, told him ' ' how 
 rejoiced he was to find him that ingenuous, honest man he had 
 always supposed him to be." Howe, in relating this curious 
 occurrence to a dignitary of the Church, to whom Sherlock was 
 well known, particularly mentioned his perplexity at being 
 thus abruptly called to give an opinion on a case so extraor- 
 dinary ; a case which had never even entered his imagination.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 185 
 
 " Sir/' replied the gentleman to whom Howe told the story, 
 " you must give me leave to say, that if you had studied the 
 case for seven years together, you could not have said anything 
 which had been more to the purpose, or more to Dr. Sher- 
 lock's satisfaction." 
 
 The Revolution, in the following year, happily dissipated the 
 terrors which had overhung the nation during the reign of the 
 Second James, and terminated a dynasty which had been 
 equally the curse and the disgrace of the nation. 
 
 Shortly after the Prince of Orange had arrived at St. 
 James's palace, a deputation of the nonconformist ministers 
 waited on him. Being introduced by the Lords Devonshire, 
 Wharton, and Wiltshire, Howe delivered an address, in the 
 name of his brethren, the purport of which was as follows : 
 
 " That they professed their grateful sense of his highnesses 
 hazardous and heroical expedition, which the favour of Heaven 
 had made so surprisingly prosperous. 
 
 " That they esteemed it a common felicity, that the worthy 
 patriots of the nobility and gentry of this kingdom had unani- 
 mously concurred unto his highness's design, by whose most 
 prudent advice the administration of public affairs was devolved 
 in this difficult conjuncture, into hands which the nation and 
 the world knew to be apt for the greatest undertakings, and 
 so suitable to the present exigence of our case. 
 
 " That they promised the utmost endeavours which in their 
 stations they were capable of affording, for promoting the 
 excellent and most desirable ends for which his highness had 
 declared. 
 
 " That they added their continual and fervent prayers to the 
 Almighty for the preservation of his highness's person, and the 
 success of his future endeavours for the defence and propaga- 
 tion of the Protestant interest throughout the Christian world. 
 
 ' ' That they should all most willingly have chosen that for 
 the season of paying this duty to his highness when the 
 Lord Bishop and the clergy of London attended his highness 
 for the same purpose, (which some of them did, and which his 
 lordship was pleased condescendingly to make mention of to 
 his highness,) had their notice of that intended application 
 been so early as to make their more general attendance pos- 
 sible to them at that time.
 
 186 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " And that, therefore, though they did now appear in a dis- 
 tinct company, they did it not on a distinct account, but on 
 that only which was common to them and to all Protest- 
 ants. 
 
 " That there were some of eminent note, whom age or 
 present infirmities hindered from coming with them ; yet they 
 concurred in the same grateful sense of our common deliver- 
 ance." 
 
 The prince, in answer, assured them, " that he came on pur- 
 pose to defend the Protestant religion, and that it was his own 
 religion, in which he was born and bred ; the religion of his 
 country and of his ancestors : and that he was resolved, by the 
 grace of God, always to adhere to it, and to do his utmost 
 endeavours for the defence of it, and the promoting a firm 
 union among Protestants." 
 
 In the yea*r (1688) Howe published nothing except three 
 discourses one, " Directing what we are to do, after a strict 
 inquiry whether or no we truly love God ; "* and two, preached 
 at Thurlow, in Suffolk, " On yielding ourselves to God."f 
 
 In 1689, he addressed the following letter in behalf of the 
 French Protestants, to a certain personage, " whom," Calamy 
 says, " he must leave the reader to guess at ; " adding, that 
 " he himself could do no more." Happily, the mystery is of 
 little consequence. 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " But that I am learning as much as I can to count 
 nothing strange among the occurrences of the present time, I 
 should be greatly surprised to fiud that divers French Pro- 
 testant ministers, fled hither for their consciences and religion, 
 who have latitude enough to conform to the rites of the Church 
 of England, do accuse others of their brethren, who are fled 
 hither on the same account, but have not that latitude, as 
 schismatics, only for practising according to the principles and 
 usages of their own church, which at home were common to 
 them both ; and, as schismatics, judge them unworthy of any 
 relief here. Their common enemy never yet passed so severe 
 
 * On John v. 42. t On Bom. vi 13.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 187 
 
 a judgment on any of them, that they should be famished. 
 This is put into the hands of the appellants from this sentence, 
 unto your more equal judgment. And it needs do no more 
 than thus briefly to represent their case, and me, 
 " Most honoured Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged, 
 " And most humble Servant, 
 
 "JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " Walbrook, April 5, 1689." 
 
 At the commencement of 1689, Parliament was engaged in 
 discussing bills for " comprehension " and " indulgence." Not 
 a few of the high church party, in contravention of the solemn 
 pledges which had been given to the nonconformists, were still 
 anxious for the perpetuation of persecution under a somewhat 
 milder form. 
 
 At this critical period, Howe drew up the following paper, 
 in which the claims of his party to relief are argued in a most 
 cogent and eloquent manner : 
 
 The Case of the Protestant Dissenters Represented and Argued. 
 
 " They are under one common obligation with the rest of 
 mankind, by the universal law of nature, to worship God in 
 assemblies. 
 
 " Men of all sorts of religions, that have ever obtained in 
 the world, Jews, Pagans, Mahometans, Christians, have in 
 their practice acknowledged this obligation. Nor can it be 
 understood how such a practice should be so universal, other- 
 wise than from the dictate and impression of the universal 
 law. 
 
 "Whereas the religion professed in England is that of 
 reformed Christianity, some things are annexed to the allowed 
 public worship, which are acknowledged to be no parts thereof, 
 nor in themselves necessary, but which the Dissenters judge to 
 be in some part sinful. 
 
 " They cannot, therefore, with good conscience towards God, 
 attend wholly and solely upon the public worship which the 
 laws do appoint. 
 
 " The same laws do strictly forbid their assembling to wor- 
 ship God otherwise. 
 
 " Which is in effect the same thing as if they who made,
 
 188 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 or shall continue such laws, should plainly say, ' If you will 
 not consent with us in our superadded rites and modes 
 against your consciences, you shall not worship God; or if 
 you will not accept of our additions to the Christian religion, 
 you shall not be Christians ; ' and manifestly tends to reduce 
 to paganism a great part of a Christian nation. 
 
 "They have been wont, therefore, to meet, however, in 
 distinct assemblies, and to worship God in a way which their 
 consciences could approve ; and have many years continued 
 so to do, otherwise than as they have been hindered by 
 violence. 
 
 " It is therefore, upon the whole, fit to inquire, 
 
 " Qu. 1. Whether they are to be blamed for their holding 
 distinct meetings for the worship of God ? 
 
 " For answer to this, it cannot be expected that all the 
 controversies should be here determined, which have been 
 agitated about the lawfulness of each of those things which 
 have been added to the Christian religion and worship by the 
 present constitution of the Church of England. 
 
 " But supposing there were none of them simply unlawful, 
 while yet the misinformed minds of the Dissenters could not 
 judge them lawful, though they have made it much their 
 business to inquire and search ; being urged also by severe 
 sufferings, which through a long tract of time they have under- 
 gone, not to refuse any means that might tend to their satis- 
 faction ; they could have nothing else left them to do than to 
 meet and worship distinctly as they have. 
 
 " For they could not but esteem the obligation of the uni- 
 versal, natural, Divine law, by which they were bound solemnly 
 to worship God, less questionable than that of a law which was 
 only positive, topical, and human, requiring such and such 
 ndditaments to their worship, and prohibiting their worship 
 without them. 
 
 " The Church of England, (as that part affects to be called,) 
 distinguished from the rest by those additional to Christian 
 religion, (pretended to be indifferent, and so confessed un- 
 necessary,) hath not only sought to engross to itself the ordin- 
 ances of Divine worship, but all civil power. So that the 
 privileges that belong either to Christian or human society 
 are enclosed, and made peculiar to such as are distinguished 
 by things that in themselves can signify nothing to the making 
 of persons either better Christians, or better men. 
 
 " Qu. 2. Whether the laws enjoining such additions to our
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 189 
 
 religion as the exclusive terms of Christian worship and com- 
 munion, ought to have been made, when it is acknowledged 
 on all hands, the things to be added were before not necessary ; 
 and when it is known a great number judge them sinful, and 
 must thereby be restrained from worshipping the true and 
 living God ? 
 
 " Ans. The question, to any of common sense, answers 
 itself. For it is not put concerning such as dissent from any 
 part of the substance of worship which God hath commanded, 
 but concerning such additions as he never commanded. And 
 there are sufficient tests to distinguish such Dissenters from 
 those that deny any substantial part of religion, or assert any- 
 thing contrary thereto. Wherefore, to forbid such to worship 
 that God that made them, because they cannot receive your 
 devised additions, is to exclude that which is necessary, for 
 the mere want of that which is unnecessary. 
 
 " And where is that man that will adventure to stand forth, 
 and avow the hindering of such persons from paying their 
 homage to the God that made them, if we thus expostulate the 
 matter on God's behalf and their own ? Will you cut off from 
 God his right in the creatures he hath made ? Will you cut 
 off from them the means of their salvation upon these terms ? 
 What reply can the matter admit ? 
 
 " It is commonly alleged that great deference is to be paid 
 to the laws, and that we ought to have forborne our assemblies, 
 till the public authority recalled the laws against them ; ami 
 we will say the same thing, when it is well proved, that they 
 who made such laws, made the world too. 
 
 " And by whose authority were such laws made ? Is there 
 any that is not from God ? and hath God given any man 
 authority to make laws against himself, and to deprive him of 
 his just rights from his own creatures ? 
 
 " Nor, if the matter be well searched into, could there be 
 so much as a pretence of authority derived for such purposes 
 from the people, whom every one now acknowledges the first 
 receptacle of derived governing power. God can, it is true, 
 lay indisputable obligations, by his known laws, upon every con- 
 science of man, about religion or anything else. And such as 
 represent any people, can, according to the constitution of the 
 government, make laws for them, about the things they intrust 
 them with : but if the people of England be asked, man by 
 man, will they say they did intrust to their representatives 
 their religion and their consciences, to do with them what they
 
 190 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 please ? When it is your own turn to be represented by others, 
 is this part of the trust you commit ? What Dr. Sherlock 
 worthily says concerning a bishop, he might (and particularly 
 after doth) say concerning every other man, ' He can be no 
 more represented in a council, than at the day of judgment : 
 every man's soul and conscience must be in his own keeping, 
 and can be represented by no man/* 
 
 " It ought to be considered that Christianity, wherein it 
 superadds to the law of nature, is all matter of revelation. 
 And it is well known, that even among pagans, in the settling 
 rites and institutes of religion,-}- revelation was pretended at 
 least, upon an implied principle, that in such matters human 
 power could not oblige the people's consciences. 
 
 " We must be excused, therefore, if we have in our practice 
 expressed less reverence for laws made by no authority re- 
 ceived either from God or man. 
 
 " We are therefore injuriously reflected on, when it is imputed 
 to us that we have, by the use of our liberty, acknowledged an 
 illegal dispensing power. We have done no other thing herein, 
 than we did when no dispensation was given or pretended, in 
 conscience of duty to him that gave us our breath ; nor did 
 therefore practise otherwise, because we thought those laws 
 dispensed with, but because we thought them not laws. Where- 
 upon little need remains of inquiring further. 
 
 " Qu. 3. Whether such laws should be continued ? Against 
 which, besides what may be collected from that which hath 
 been said, it is to be considered, that what is most principally 
 grievous to us, was enacted by that parliament, that, as we 
 have too much reason to believe, suffered itself to be dealt with 
 to enslave the nation, in other respects as well as this; and 
 which (to his immortal honour) the noble Earl of Danby pro- 
 cured to be dissolved, as the first step towards our national 
 deliverance. 
 
 " And let the tenor be considered of that horrid law, by 
 which our Magna Charta was torn in pieces ; the worst and 
 most infamous of mankind, at our own expense, hired to accuse 
 us ; multitudes of perjuries committed, convictions made with- 
 out a jury, and without any hearing of the persons accused ; 
 penalties inflicted, goods rifled, estates seized and embezzled, 
 
 * " Vindication of some Protestant Principles," etc., p. 52. 
 t " As by Numa, from his Egeria. And their priests, to whom the regulation 
 of such matters was left, were generally believed* to be inspired."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 191 
 
 houses broken up, families disturbed, often at unseasonable 
 hours of the night, without any cause, or shadow of a cause, if 
 only a malicious villain would pretend to suspect a meeting 
 there ! No law in any other case like this ! As if to worship 
 God without those additions, which were confessed unnecessary, 
 were a greater crime than theft, felony, murder, or treason ! 
 Is it for our reputation to posterity, that the memory of such 
 law should be continued ? 
 
 " And are we not yet awakened, and our eyes opened enough 
 to see, that the making and execution of the laws, by which we 
 have suffered so deeply for many by-past years, was only that 
 Protestants might destroy Protestants, and the easier work be 
 made for the introduction of Popery, that was to destroy the 
 residue ? 
 
 " Nor can any malice deny, or ignorance of observing Eng- 
 lishmen overlook, this plain matter of fact. After the dissolu- 
 tion of that before-mentioned parliament, Dissenters were much 
 caressed, and endeavoured to be drawn into a subserviency to 
 the court designs, especially in the election of after- parliaments. 
 Notwithstanding which, they everywhere so entirely and unani- 
 mously fell in with the sober part of the nation, in the choice 
 of such persons for the three parliaments that next succeeded, 
 (two held at Westminster, and that at Oxford,) as it was known 
 would, and who did, most generously assert the liberties of the 
 nation, and the Protestant religion. Which alone (and not our 
 mere dissent from the Church of England in matters of religion, 
 wherein Charles II. was sufficiently known to be a prince of 
 great indifferency) drew upon us, soon after the dissolution of 
 the last of those parliaments, that dreadful storm of persecution, 
 that destroyed not a small number of lives in gaol, and ruined 
 multitudes of families. 
 
 "Let English freemen remember, what they cannot but 
 know, that it was for our firm adherence to the civil interests 
 of the nation, (not for our different modes of religion from the 
 legal way, though the laws gave that advantage against us, 
 which they did not against others,) that we endured the 
 calamities of so many years. 
 
 " When by the late King some relaxation was given us, what 
 arts and insinuations have been used with us, to draw us into 
 a concurrence to designs tending to the prejudice of the nation ! 
 And with how little effect upon the generality of us, it must be 
 great ignorance not to know, and great injustice to deny. 
 
 " But he that knoweth all things, knoweth that though, in
 
 192 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 such circumstances, there was no opportunity for our receiving 
 public and authorized promises, when we were all under the 
 eye of watchful jealousy ; yet as great assurances as were 
 possible were given us, by some that we hope will now remem- 
 ber it, of a future established security from our former pressures. 
 We were told over and over, when the excellent Heer Fagel's 
 letter came to be privately communicated from hand to hand, 
 how easily better things would be had for us, than that encour- 
 aged Papists to expect, if ever that happy change should be 
 brought about, which none have now beheld with greater joy 
 than we. 
 
 " We are loth to injure those who have made us hope for 
 better, by admitting a suspicion that we shall now be dis- 
 appointed and deceived, (as we have formerly been, and we 
 know by whom,) or that we shall suffer from them a religious 
 slavery, for whose sakes we have suffered so grievous things, 
 rather than do the least thing that might tend to the bringing 
 upon them a civil slavery. 
 
 " We cannot but expect from Englishmen that they be just 
 and true. We hope not to be the only instances whereby the 
 Anglica fides and the Punica shall be thought all one. 
 
 " But if we, who have constantly desired, and, as we have 
 had opportunity, endeavoured the saving of the nation, must 
 however be ruined, not to greaten (one hair) the wealth and 
 dignity of it, but only to gratify the humour of them who 
 would yet destroy it; we, who are competently inured to 
 sufferings, shall, through God's mercy, be again enabled to 
 endure : but he that sits in the heavens will in his own time 
 judge our cause, and we will wait his pleasure ; and, we hope, 
 suffer all that can be inflicted, rather than betray the cause of 
 reformed Christianity in the world. 
 
 " But our affairs are in the hands of men of worth and honour, 
 who apprehend how little grateful a name they should leave to 
 posterity, or obtain now with good men of any persuasion, if, 
 under a pretence of kindness to us, they should now repeat the 
 arts of ill men, in an ill time. Great minds will think it 
 beneath them to sport themselves with their own cunning, in 
 deceiving other men ; which were really in the present case 
 too thin not to be seen through, and may be the easy attain- 
 ment of any man, that hath enough of opportunity, and 
 integrity little enough for such purposes. And it is as much 
 too gross to endeavour to abuse the authority of a nation, by 
 going about to make that stoop to so mean a thing, as to make
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 193 
 
 a show of intending what they resolve to their utmost shall 
 never be. 
 
 " Bat some may think, by concessions to us, the Church of 
 England will be ruined, and a great advantage given to the 
 bringing in of Popery. 
 
 "To which we say, the generality of the Dissenters differ 
 from the Church of England, in no substantiate of doctrine 
 and worship, no, nor of government, provided it be so managed 
 as to attain its true acknowledged end : the favouring of us, 
 therefore, will as much ruin the Church, as its enlargement 
 and additional strength will signify to its ruin. 
 
 " And doth not the world know, that wherein we differ 
 from them, we differ from the Papists too ? and that for the 
 most part, wherein they differ from us, they seem to agree 
 with them ? 
 
 "We acknowledge their strong, brave, and prosperous 
 opposition to Popery : but they have opposed it by the things 
 wherein they agree with us. Their differences from us are 
 no more a fence against Popery, than an enclosure of straw is 
 against a flame of fire. 
 
 "But it is wont to be said, we agree not among ourselves, 
 and know not what we would have. 
 
 " And do all that go under the name of the Church of Eng- 
 land agree among themselves ? We can show more considerable 
 disagreements among them, than any can between the most of 
 us and a considerable part of them. They all agree, it is true, 
 in conformity ; and we all agree in nonconformity. And is not 
 this merely accidental to Christianity and Protestantism ? and 
 herein is it not well known that the far greater part of reformed 
 Christendom do more agree with us ? 
 
 " An arbitrary line of uniformity, in some little accidents, 
 severs a small part of the Christian world from all the rest. 
 How unreasonably is it expected that therefore all the rest 
 must in everything else agree among themselves ! Suppose 
 any imaginary line to cut off a little segment from any part 
 of the terrestrial globe; it is as justly expected that all the 
 rest should be of one mind. If one part of England be tailors, 
 they might as well expect that all the people besides should 
 agree to be of one profession. 
 
 "Perhaps some imagine it dishonourable to such as have 
 gone before them in the same ecclesiastical stations and digni- 
 ties, if now anything should be altered, which their judgment 
 did before approve and think fit.
 
 194 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " But we hope that temptation will not prove invincible, 
 namely, of so excessive a modesty as to be afraid of seeming 
 wiser, or better natured, or of a more Christian temper, than 
 their predecessors. 
 
 " But the most of us do agree not only with one another, 
 but, in the great things above mentioned, with the Church of 
 England too : and, in short, that the reproach may cease for 
 ever with those that count it one, they will find with us, when 
 they please to try, a very extensive agreement on the terms of 
 KingCharlesII/s declaration about ecclesiastical afFairs,in!660. 
 
 " Qu. 4. Whether it be reasonable to exclude all, that in 
 everything conform not to the Church of England, from any 
 part or share of the civil power ? 
 
 '" Ans. The difference or nonconformity of many is so 
 minute, that it would be as reasonable to exclude all whose 
 hair is not of this or that colour. And what if we should 
 make a determination, by the decision this way or that of any 
 other disputed question, that may be of as small concernment 
 to religion ? suppose it be that of eating blood, for the decision 
 whereof one way, there is more pretence from God's word, than 
 for any point of the disputed conformity : would it not be a 
 wise constitution, ' that whosoever thinks it lawful to eat black- 
 pudding shall be capable of no office ? ' etc. 
 
 " But we tremble to think of the exclusive sacramental test, 
 brought down as low as to the keeper of an ale-house. Are all 
 fit to approach the sacred table, whom the fear of ruin or hope 
 of gain may bring thither ? We cannot but often remember, 
 with horror, what happened three or four years ago. A man 
 that led an ill life, but frequented the church, was observed 
 not to come to the sacrament, and pressed by the officers to 
 come ; he yet declined, knowing himself unfit : at length, being 
 threatened and terrified, he came ; but said to some present at 
 the time of the solemn action, that he came only to avoid being 
 undone, and took them to witness that what he there received, 
 he took only as common bread and wine, not daring to receive 
 them as the body and blood of Christ. It is amazing, that 
 among Christians, so venerable an institution should be pros- 
 tituted to the serving of so mean purposes, and so foreign to 
 its true end ! and that doing it after the manner of the Church 
 of England must be the qualification ! as if England were 
 another Christendom ; or it were a greater thing to conform in 
 every punctilio to the rules of this church, than of Christ him- 
 self!
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 195 
 
 " But we would fain know whose is that holy table ? is it 
 the table of this or that party, or the Lord's table ? If the 
 Lord's, are not persons to be admitted or excluded upon his 
 terms ? Never can there be union or peace in the Christian 
 world till we take down our arbitrary enclosures, and content 
 ourselves with those which our common Lord hath set. If he 
 falls under a curse that alters a man's landmark, to alter God's 
 is not likely to infer a blessing. 
 
 " The matter is clear as the light of the sun, that as many 
 persons of excellent worth, sobriety, and godliness, are entirely 
 in the communion of the Church of England, so there are too 
 many of a worse character, that are of it too ; and divers 
 prudent, pious, and sober-minded persons that are not of it. 
 Let common reason be consulted, in , this case. Suppose the 
 tables turned, and that the rule were to be made the contrary 
 way, namely, that to do this thing, but not by any means after 
 the manner of the Church of England, were to be the qualifica- 
 tion : and now suppose one of meaner endowments, as a man 
 and a Christian, do what is required, and not in the way of the 
 Church of England ; and another, that is of much better, does 
 the same thing in that way ;. were it suitable to prudence or 
 justice, that because it is done after the way of the Church of 
 England, a fitter man should.be reckoned unqualified? and 
 one of less value be taken for qualified, because he does it a 
 different way ? Then is all that solid weight of wisdom, dili- 
 gence, sobriety, and goodness, to be weighed down by a feather. 
 
 " It must surely be thought the prudence of any govern- 
 ment, to comprehend as many useful persons as it can, and 
 no more to deprive itself of the service of such, for anything 
 less considerable than those qualifications are by which they 
 are useful, than a man would tear off from himself the limbs of 
 his body, for a spot on the skin. 
 
 "And really if, in our circumstances, we thus narrow our 
 interest, all the rest of the world will say, that they who would 
 destroy us do yet find a way to be our instructors, and our 
 common enemies do teach us our politics. 
 
 " The names of Mr. Hales, of Eton College, and of a later 
 most renowned bishop of the Church of England, who asserted 
 this principle, that ' if things be imposed under the notion of 
 indifferent, which many think sinful, and a schism follow there- 
 upon, the imposers are the schismatics,' will be great in Eng- 
 land, as long as their writings shall live, and good sense can 
 be understood in them."
 
 196 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 At length, May 24, 1 689, the Act of Toleration received the 
 royal assent, and diffused content and gladness throughout the 
 nation. 
 
 That this event should lead to some violent ebullitions of 
 party spirit, was to be anticipated. There were not wanting 
 bigots who grudged their fellow-subjects the enjoyment of 
 their new-born liberty ; and who, after having so long gratified 
 their malignant passions, were impatient at being compelled to 
 restrain them. It was as unwelcome as a fast would be to 
 a man who had been accustomed to the free indulgence of 
 appetite.* 
 
 Neither was it to be wondered at, if there were some amongst 
 the nonconformists, who, in the first flush of their triumph, 
 indulged in an unwise and unseemly spirit of jubilation. It is 
 superfluous to remark that Howe was not of the number : the 
 novel circumstances in which he was now placed, only served 
 to exhibit his excellence under another and most pleasing 
 aspect. He had borne persecution with fortitude ; he now 
 enjoyed victory with moderation. The triumph of his princi- 
 ples and his party could not tempt his noble spirit to any 
 display of mean and malignant exultation. On the contrary, 
 he exerted himself to the utmost to heal the wounds which had 
 festered so long, and to prevent the perpetuation of useless 
 animosity. Of this, the following paper, which will never be 
 perused by any candid reader without the warmest admiration, 
 affords irrefragable evidence. 
 
 " HUMBLE BEQUESTS BOTH TO CONFORMISTS AND DISSENTERS, 
 TOUCHING THEIR TEMPER AND BEHAVIOUR TOWARD EACH OTHER, 
 UPON THE LATELY PASSED INDULGENCE. 
 
 " 1 . That we do not over-magnify our differences, or count 
 them greater than they really are. I speak now of the proper 
 differences which the rule itself makes, to which the one sort 
 conforms, and the other conforms not. Remember that there 
 
 * Dr. South owned, that "he did not like it." Still stronger expressions 
 
 were used at a subsequent period, by the celebrated Sacheverell and his party. 
 
 One of the articles of impeachment against him was, " that he had suggested 
 
 nd maintained, that the toleration granted by law was unreasonable, and the 
 
 allowance of it unwarrantable."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 197 
 
 are differences on both parts, among themselves, incomparably 
 greater than these, by which the one sort differs from the 
 other. There are differences in doctrinal sentiments that are 
 much greater. How inconceivably greater is the difference 
 between good men and bad ! between being a lover of the 
 blessed God, the Lord of heaven and earth, and an enemy ! a 
 real subject of Christ, ancT of the devil ! Have we not reason 
 to apprehend there are of both these on each side ? Let us 
 take heed of having our minds tinctured with a wrong notion 
 of this matter, as if this Indulgence divided England into two 
 Christendoms, or distinguished rather between Christians and 
 Mahometans, as some men's Cyclopic fancies have an unlucky 
 art to represent things ; creating ordinary men and things into 
 monsters and prodigious shapes at their own pleasure. It has 
 been a usual saying on both sides, that they were (in com- 
 parison) but little things we differed about, or circumstantial 
 thingo. Let us not unsay it, or suffer a habit of mind to slide 
 into us, that consists not with it. Though we must not go 
 against a judgment of conscience in the least thing, yet let us 
 not confound the true differences of things ; but what are 
 really lesser things, let them go for such. 
 
 '"2. Let us hereupon carefully abstain from judging each 
 other's state God- ward upon these differences : for hereby we 
 shall both contradict our common rule and ourselves. When 
 men make conscience of small and doubtful things on the one 
 hand and the other, about which they differ, blessed God ! how 
 little conscience is made of the plainest and most important 
 rule, not to judge one another for such differences ! Rom. xiv. 
 3, 13. Why, of all the parts of that holy book, is this chapter 
 only thought no part of God's word ? or this precept, so 
 variously enforced in this chapter, and so awfully in a preced- 
 ing verse, ' But why dost thou judge thy brother ? or why 
 dost thou set at nought thy brother ? We shall all stand be- 
 fore the judgment-seat of Christ. For it is written, As I live, 
 saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue 
 shall confess to me ! ' Is it a light matter to usurp the throne 
 of Christ, the judgment-seat of God? Yet how common has it 
 been to say, such a one conforms, he hath nothing of God in 
 him ! such a one conforms not; it is not conscience, but 
 humour ! God forgive both. Had they blotted Rom. xiv. out 
 of their Bibles ? It is plain by the whole series of discourse, 
 that it is the judging of men's states, and that by such small 
 matters of difference, that is the thing here forbidden. Some
 
 198 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 few things contained in this chapter, as, ' to receive one 
 another/ (as Christians, or such whom God receives,) notwith- 
 standing remaining doubts about small matters, and not de- 
 termining such doubted things in bar to the doubter ; and not 
 ' to lay stumbling-blocks in each other's way/ not to do the 
 doubted thing with a mind still unsatisfied, not to censure either 
 him that does or forbears ; not admitting a hard thought of 
 him, or less favourable, than that what such a one does, ' he 
 does to the Lord, and what the other forbears, he forbears to 
 the Lord;* these few things, I say, put in practice, had taken 
 away all differences (that we are now considering), or the in- 
 convenience of them, long ago. And we shall still need them 
 as much as ever. 
 
 "'3. Let us not value ourselves upon being of this or that 
 side of the severing line. It is Jewish, yea, pharisaical, to be 
 conceited, and boast ourselves upon externals, and small mat- 
 ters, especially if arbitrarily taken up ; and is itself an argu- 
 ment of a light mind, and incomprehensive of true worth. 
 Though I cannot sincerely be of this or that way, but I must 
 think myself in the right, and others in the wrong that differ 
 from me, yet I ought to consider, this is but a small minute 
 thing, a point compared with the vast orb of knowables, and 
 of things needful, and that ought to be known. Perhaps divers 
 that differ from me are men of greater and more comprehensive 
 minds, and have been more employed about greater matters : 
 and many, in things of more importance, have much more of 
 valuable and useful knowledge than I. Yea, and since these 
 are not matters of salvation we differ about, so that any on 
 either side dare considerately say, He cannot be saved that is 
 not in these respects of my mind and way ; he may have more 
 of sanctifying savoury knowledge, more of solid goodness, more 
 of grace and real sanctity, than I ; the course of his thoughts 
 and studies having been by converse and other accidents led 
 more off from these things, and perhaps by a good principle 
 been more deeply engaged about higher matters : for no man's 
 mind is able equally to consider all things fit to be considered ; 
 and greater things are of themselves more apt to beget holy 
 and good impressions upon our spirits, than the minuter and 
 more circumstantial things, though relating to religion, can be. 
 
 " 4. Let us not despise one another for our differing in these 
 lesser matters. This is too common, and most natural to that 
 temper that offends against the foregoing caution. Little- 
 spirited creatures valuing themselves for small matters, must
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 199 
 
 consequently have them in contempt that want what they count 
 their own only excellency. He that hath nothing wherein he 
 places worth belonging to him, besides a flaunting peruke and 
 a laced suit, must at all adventures think very meanly of one in 
 a plain garb. Where we are taught not to judge, we are for- 
 bidden to despise or set at nought one another upon these little 
 differences. 
 
 " 5. Nor let us wonder that we differ. Unto this we are 
 too apt, that is, to think it strange, (especially upon some 
 arguing of the difference,) that such a man should conform, or 
 such a one not conform. There is some fault in this, but which 
 proceeds from more faulty causes. Pride, too often, and an 
 opinion that we understand so well, that a wrong is done us if 
 our judgment be not made a standard and measure to another 
 man's. And again, ignorance of human nature, or inconsiderate- 
 ness rather, how mysterious it is, and how little can be known 
 of it ; how secret and latent little springs there are that move 
 this engine to our own mind this way or that; and what bars 
 (which perhaps he discerns not himself) may obstruct and shut 
 up towards us another man's. Have we not frequent instances 
 in other common cases, how difficult it is to speak to another 
 man's understanding ? Speech is too penurious, not expres- 
 sive enough. Frequently, between men of sense, much more 
 time is taken up in explaining each other's notions, than in. 
 proving or disproving them. Nature and our present state 
 have in some respects left us open to God only, and made us 
 inaccessible to one another. Why then should it be strange to 
 me, that I cannot convey my thought into another's mind ? It 
 is unchristian to censure, as before, and say, such a one has 
 not my conscience, therefore he has no conscience at all ; and 
 it is also unreasonable and rude to say, such a one sees not 
 with my eyes, therefore he is stark blind. Besides, the real 
 obscurity of the matter is not enough considered. I am very 
 confident an impartial and competent judge, upon the view of 
 books, later and more ancient, upon such subjects, would say, 
 there are few metaphysical questions disputed with more 
 subtlety, than the controversies about conformity and noncon- 
 formity. Blessed be God that things necessary to the salva- 
 tion of souls, and that are of true necessity even to the peace 
 and order of the Christian church, are in comparison so very 
 plain. 
 
 "Moreover, there is, besides understanding and judgment, 
 and diverse from that heavenly gift whicli in the Scriptures is
 
 200 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 called grace, such a tiling as gust and relish belonging to the 
 mind of man, and, I doubt not, to all men, if they observe 
 themselves; and this is as unaccountable and as various as the 
 relishes and disgusts of sense. This they only wonder at, that 
 either understand not themselves, or will consider nobody but 
 themselves. To bring it down to the present case. As to 
 those parts of worship which are of most frequent use in our 
 assemblies, (whether conforming or nonconforming,) prayer, 
 and preaching, and hearing God's word, our differences about 
 them cannot but in part arise from the diversity of this prin- 
 ciple, both on the one hand and the other. One sort do more 
 savour prayer by a foreknown form ; another, that, which hath 
 more of surprise, by a grateful variety of unexpected expres- 
 sions. And it can neither be universally said, it is a better 
 judgment, or more grace, that determines men the one way or 
 the other; but somewhat in the temper of their minds, distinct 
 from both, which I know not how better to express, than by 
 mental taste, the acts whereof (as the objects are suitable or 
 unsuitable) are relishing or disrelishing, liking or disliking : 
 and this hath no more of mystery in it, than that there is such 
 a thing belonging to our natures as complacency or displacency 
 in reference to the objects of the mind. And this, in the kind 
 of it, is as common to men as human nature ; but as much 
 diversified in individuals, as men's other inclinations are, that 
 are most fixed, and least apt to admit of change. Now, in the 
 mentioned case, men cannot be universally determined, either 
 way, by their having better judgment ; for no sober man can 
 be so little modest as not to acknowledge, that there are some 
 of each sentiment that are less judicious than some that are of 
 the contrary sentiment in this thing. And to say that to be 
 more determined this way or that, is the certain sign or effect 
 of a greater measure of grace and sanctity, were a great vio- 
 lation both of modesty and charity. I have not met with any 
 that have appeared to live in more entire communion with. 
 God, in higher admiration of him, in a pleasanter sense of his 
 love, or in a more joyful expectation of eternal life, than some 
 that have been wont with great delight publicly to worship 
 God in the use of our Common Prayer; and others I have 
 known as highly excelling in the same respects, that could by 
 no means relish it, but have always counted it insipid and 
 nauseous. The like may be said of relishing or disrelishing 
 sermons preached in a digested set of words, or with a more 
 flowing freedom of speech. It were endless and odious to vie
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 201 
 
 either better judgments, or more pious inclinations, that should 
 universally determine men either the one way or the other in 
 these matters. And we are no more to wonder at these pecu- 
 liarities in the temper of men's minds, than at their different 
 tastes of meats and drinks ; much less to fall out with them, 
 that their minds and notions are not just formed as ours are : 
 for we should remember, they no more differ from us than we 
 do from them ; and if we think we have the clearer light, it is 
 like they also think they have clearer. And it is in vain to 
 say, Who shall be judge ? for every man will at length judge 
 of his own notions for himself, and cannot help it : for no 
 man's judgment (or relish of things, which influences his judg- 
 ment, though he know it not) is at the command of his will ; 
 and much less of another man's. And, therefore, 
 
 " 6. Let us not be offended mutually with one another, for 
 our different choice of this or that way, wherein we find most 
 of real advantage and edification. Our greatest concern in 
 this world, and which is common to us all, is the bettering of 
 our spirits, and preparing them for a better world. Let no 
 man be displeased, (especially of those who agree in all the 
 substantial of the same holy religion,) that another uses the 
 same liberty, in choosing the way most conducing in his ex- 
 perience to his great end, that he himself also uses, expecting 
 to do it without another man's offence. 
 
 " 7. But above all, let us, with sincere minds, more earnestly 
 endeavour the promoting the interest of religion itself, of true 
 reformed Christianity, than of this or that party. Let us long 
 to see the religion of Christians become simple, primitive, 
 agreeable to its lovely original state, and again itself : and each 
 in our own stations contribute thereto all that we are able, 
 labouring that the internal principle of it may live and flourish 
 in our own souls, and be to our utmost diffused and spread 
 unto other men's. And for its externals, as the ducture of our 
 rule will guide us, so gradually bend towards one common 
 course, that there may at length cease to be any divided parties 
 at all. 
 
 " In the meantime, while there are, let it be remembered 
 that the difference lies among Christians and Protestants, not 
 between such and pagans. Let us therefore carry it accord- 
 ingly towards each other ; and consider our assemblies are all 
 Christian and Protestant assemblies, differing in their admi- 
 nistrations, for the most part, not in the things prayed for or 
 deprecated, or taught, but in certain modes of expression;
 
 202 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 and differing really, and in the substance of things, less by 
 mere conformity or nonconformity to the public rule of the 
 law, than many of them that are under it do from one another, 
 and than divers that are not under it. For instance, go into 
 one congregation that is a conforming one, and you have the 
 public prayers read in the desk, and afterwards a form of 
 prayer perhaps used by the preacher in the pulpit, of his own 
 composure, before he begins his sermon. Go into another 
 congregation, and prayer is performed without either sort of 
 form ; and perhaps the difference in this is not so great. It 
 may be the conformist uses no preconceived form of his own, 
 and the nonconformist may. Both instruct the people out of 
 the same holy book of God's word. But now suppose one of 
 the former sort reads the public prayers gravely, with the 
 appearance of great reverence, fervency, and pious devotion ; 
 and one of the latter sort that uses them not, does, however, 
 pray for the same things with judgment and with like gravity 
 and affection, and they both instruct their hearers fitly and 
 profitably ; nothing is more evident than that the worship in 
 these two assemblies doth much less considerably differ to a 
 pious and judicious mind, than if in the latter the prayers were 
 also read, but carelessly, sleepily, or scenically, flauntingly, 
 and with manifest irreverence, and the sermon like the rest ; 
 or than if, in the former, all the performance were inept, rude, 
 or very offensively drowsy or sluggish. 
 
 " Now, let us show ourselves men, and manly Christians, 
 not swayed by trifles and little things, as children by this or 
 that dress or mode, or form of our religion, which may per- 
 haps please some the more for its real indecency : but know, 
 that if, while we continue picquering about forms, the life be 
 lost, and we come to bear the character of that church, ' Thou 
 hast a name that thou livest, and art dead/ we may, ere long, 
 (after all the wonders God hath wrought for us,) expect to 
 hear of our candlestick's being removed, and that our sun 
 shall go down at noonday. 
 
 " The true serious spirit and power of religion and god- 
 liness will act no man against his conscience, or his rule 
 understood, but will oblige him in all acts of worship (as 
 well as of his whole conversation) to keep close to gospel pre- 
 scription, so far as he can discern it. And that, he will find, 
 requires that, in subordination to the Divine glory, he seriously 
 design the working out the salvation of his own soul, and take 
 that course in order thereto, put himself under such a ministry,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 203 
 
 and such a way of using God's ordinances, as lie finds most 
 profitable and conducing to that great end, and that doth his 
 soul most real good. If you are religious, or of this or that 
 mode or way of religion, to serve a carnal design for yourself 
 or your party, not to save your soul, you commit the most 
 detestable sacrilege, and alienate the most sacred thing in the 
 world, religion, from its true end ; which will not only lose 
 that end, but infer a heavy vengeance. Yea, and it is too 
 possible to transgress dangerously, by preferring that which 
 is less, (though never so confidently thought to be Divine,) 
 before that which is greater, or separately from its true end. 
 You greatly prevaricate, if you are more zealously intent to 
 promote independency than Christianity, presbytery than 
 Christianity, prelacy than Christianity, as any of these are 
 the interest of a party, and not considered in subserviency to 
 the Christian interest, nor designed for promoting the edifica- 
 tion and salvation of your own soul. But that being your 
 design, living religion will keep your eye upon your end, and 
 make you steady and constantly true to that, and to your rule, 
 without which you can never hope to reach your end. 
 
 "Now hereupon such as conform to the public Establish- 
 ment, and they that dissent from it, may differ from each 
 other upon a twofold account: either, 1, as judging the con- 
 trary way to be simply unlawful ; or, 2, as judging it to be 
 only less edifying. It is not the business of this paper to 
 discuss who herein judge aright, and who wrong; but sup- 
 posing their judgment to remain as it is, (which they them- 
 selves, however, should examine; and, if it be wrong, rectify :) 
 I shall say somewhat to each of these cases. 
 
 " To the former, while your judgment continues as it is, it 
 is true you cannot join in worship with the contrary minded : 
 but nothing forbids, but you can be kind, conversable, courte- 
 ous towards them ; and your common Christian profession 
 (besides the rules of humanity) obliges you so to be ; yea, 
 and even to converse with them, as occasion invites, more 
 intimately as Christians, the visible marks of serious Chris- 
 tianity appearing in them. 
 
 " To the latter sort, it is acknowledged, you cannot con- 
 stantly join in worship with those of the contrary way, 
 because you ought ordinarily to worship God in that way 
 which you judge to be best, and most agreeable to the Divine 
 rule; (though you are not obliged utterly to abandon any 
 for its imperfections or corruptions, that is not corrupt in the
 
 204 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 very essentials ;) and you ought most frequently to attend on 
 that which you find to be most edifying to your own soul ; as 
 that should be your more ordinary diet that best agrees with 
 you. That way, therefore, you must most constantly adhere 
 to, which is most grateful and savoury to you ; because you 
 cannot so much edify by what you less relish. But your 
 judgment and latitude will well allow you sometimes to fre- 
 quent the assemblies with which you hold not constant com- 
 munion. And if it will allow, it will also direct you thereto 
 for a valuable end ; as that you may signify, you ordinarily 
 decline them not as no Christians, or their worship as no 
 worship, but as more defective, or less edifying ; and that you 
 may maintain love, and both express and beget a disposition 
 to nearer union. And if our rulers shall judge such inter- 
 courses conducing to so desirable an end, they may, perhaps, 
 in due time think it reasonable to put things into that state, 
 that ministers of both sorts may be capable of inviting one 
 another occasionally to the brotherly offices of mutual assist- 
 ance in each other's congregations. For which, and all things 
 that tend to make us a happy people, we must wait upon him 
 in whose hands their hearts are." 
 
 But such, for a time, was the state of public feeling, that 
 even appeals like these exerted only a very partial influence. 
 The waters had not yet subsided, and Howe sent forth the 
 dove of peace in vain ; it found no rest for the sole of its foot. 
 His efforts, however, brought their own reward; if he could 
 not allay the animosities of others, he himself was calm. From 
 the ark of a quiet and untroubled spirit, he looked forth 
 serenely on the tempestuous waters, and mourned over the 
 ravages he could not prevent. 
 
 In the year 1690, Howe published a funeral sermon for 
 Esther, the wife of Dr. Henry Sampson,* (physician,) who was 
 a member of his church. The lady died on a Sunday, after a 
 
 * Dr. Sampson is noticed by Calamy in his " Ejected Ministers." He was 
 educated for the Church, and preached for a considerable time, but was never 
 ordained. He afterwards studied physic at the universities of Padua and 
 Leyden. Having a strong taste for history and antiquities, he became intimate 
 with Kalph Thoresby, the topographer of Leeds ; from whose diary, recently 
 published, I have extracted a few particulars respecting Howe in the next 
 chapter.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 lingering illness of eighteen years ; a circumstance which sug- 
 gested to Howe the following appropriate text for the funeral 
 sermon : " Ought not this woman, being a daughter of 
 Abraham, whom Satan hath bound, lo, these eighteen years, 
 to be loosed from this bond on the sabbath day ? " * 
 
 * Luke xiii. 16.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FEOM 1690 TO 1703. 
 
 DISPUTES AMONG THE NONCONFORMISTS ATTEMPT TO UNITE THE PRESBYTERIANS 
 
 AND CONGREGATIONALISTS " HEADS OF AGREEMENT " AGITATION OF THE ANTI- 
 
 NOMIAN CONTROVERSY CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH LED TO IT DR. CRISP'S SERMONS 
 
 HOWE'S SERMONS ON THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION LETTER TO MR. 
 SPILSBURY LETTERS FROM THE MSB. IN WOBURN ABBEY LETTERS FROM THE 
 
 AYSCOUGH MSS. IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM LETTERS TO SIR CHARLES AND LADY 
 
 HOGHTON, AND OTHERS CONTROVERSY ON " OCCASIONAL CONFORMITY " PRIN- 
 CIPLES ON WHICH HOWE DEFENDED THAT PRACTICE. 
 
 TTlVENTS were now at hand, destined to try the truly Chris- 
 JU tian principles and temper of Howe most severely. Re- 
 lieved from the fear of persecution, the nonconformists began 
 to quarrel among themselves. Pressure from without had 
 hitherto kept them together; and its removal was the signal 
 for internal disunion. The first symptoms of dissension be- 
 trayed themselves shortly after the publication of the " Heads 
 of Agreement/' * (as they were most infelicitously called,) by 
 the " United Ministers." The object of those resolutions was 
 to effect a formal coalition between the Presbyterians and 
 Congregationalists. As these parties had already many points 
 of union, and were bound together by community of interest 
 and of feeling as well as by entire agreement in doctrine, any 
 stricter union than as yet subsisted would have been more 
 wisely left to the influence of time, and the silent and spon- 
 taneous operation of Christian charity. As it was, the project 
 terminated, as might have been foreseen, only in exciting 
 jealousies that might not otherwise have existed, and awaken- 
 ing prejudices that might have slumbered for ever, f 
 
 * Published in 1691. 
 
 t The " Heads of Agreement " will be found in Calamy's Abridgment of 
 Baxter's Life. Howe himself took an important part in preparing them.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 207 
 
 These disputes, however, were of little consequence, com- 
 pared with those which were occasioned by the reprinting of 
 Dr. Crisp's works;* which, from certain circumstances con- 
 nected with their publication, led to a fierce agitation of the 
 whole Antinomian controversy. Never were the words of the 
 wise man more completely verified. It was, indeed, a "little 
 spark " which first kindled the flames of this fearful conflagra- 
 tion. 
 
 The circumstances were as follow : The works of Dr. Crisp 
 were republished by his son. Having enriched the precious 
 farrago by some discourses from his father's MSS., never 
 before printed, the editor must needs solicit the signatures of 
 several of the most deservedly popular ministers in the metro- 
 polis to an attestation, that they believed the sermons in 
 question to be the genuine productions of Dr. Crisp! A 
 sinister purpose is, I think, evident on the very face of the 
 transaction. One cannot but regard it as a mean artifice for 
 securing an additional popularity to the sermons, by leading 
 the public to conclude, either that this attestation to the 
 genuineness of the sermons implied an approval of their con- 
 tents, (as was really inferred in a great many cases,) or, at 
 least, that the attesting parties must deem the sermons of 
 considerable value, since they had thought it worth while 
 gravely to subscribe a belief in their authenticity. That such 
 a conclusion was most natural, who can deny ? What but 
 this, it might plausibly be asked, could induce them to give 
 such a testimony ? What conceivable reason was there for 
 such a step, had they thought the sermons worthless ? Why 
 should they, in that case, take the trouble to tell the world 
 that the sermons might be relied on as the veritable produc- 
 tions of Dr. Crisp ? Thus what was, in fact, merely an act of 
 easy good-nature to the importunate and, perhaps, needy 
 publisher, would be construed, and was construed, into a 
 sanction of sentiments which most of the subscribing parties 
 abhorred. 
 
 That it was a trick, I am led to believe for the following 
 
 * 1691, 1692.
 
 208 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 reasons. First, what imaginable reason could the editor have 
 for supposing that the world would, without the shadow of a 
 cause, doubt his affirmation as to the genuineness of the ser- 
 mons in question, or suspect that he had palmed on the public, 
 as Dr. Crisp's productions, what were not his ? Was there 
 anything incredible in the representation that his father had 
 left some MSS. behind him? Or, when MSS. are published 
 under such circumstances, is it customary to seek attestations 
 to their genuineness before the world has already hinted some 
 suspicion of fraud ? Does an honest man think it worth while 
 to anticipate slander, or to declare himself innocent before any 
 one has breathed a suspicion of guilt ? These reasons, if there 
 were no others, would be sufficient to show that the younger 
 Crisp's pretended motives could not have been the real ones. 
 
 But, secondly, could the works of Dr. Crisp inimitably 
 ridiculous in sentiment, vulgar in conception and style need 
 any other attestation to their genuineness than their own 
 intrinsic absurdity ? Would they not authenticate themselves 
 all the world over ? If, indeed, the posthumous sermons had 
 indicated any diversity in point of style or sentiment from 
 those published in his lifetime ; if they had manifested either 
 sobriety of mind or elegance of diction, there would have been 
 some reason for demanding attestations : and, in truth, under 
 such circumstances, scarcely any amount of testimony would 
 have been sufficient. But as long as their genuineness was 
 sustained by the same internal evidence which authenticated 
 his former writings, such testimonies were quite superfluous. 
 Dr. Crisp had a patent for nonsense and vulgarity, which 
 defied successful imitation. 
 
 Upon the supposition that this eager solicitation of signa- 
 tures was, as I believe, a trick, it must be confessed that it 
 was a trick exactly suited to the genius of Antinomianism ; 
 perfectly worthy of the mean, treacherous, dishonest spirit, 
 which such a system cannot fail to inspire. 
 
 I grieve to say, that amongst those who fell into the am- 
 bush, was John Howe. It is the only instance, so far as I 
 know, in which his characteristic prudence signally failed him. 
 
 The impression which the signatures in question produced,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 209 
 
 was such as might be expected. It was in vain that Howe 
 protested against the absurdity of confounding a simple attes- 
 tation to the genuineness of & document with a belief in the truth 
 of its contents. Simple and obvious as the distinction was, 
 the explanation, to many, was far from satisfactory. The 
 stupid could not see it, and the prejudiced would not. 
 
 Amongst others who expressed their surprise at this in- 
 cautious proceeding, was Richard Baxter. In his earlier and 
 more vigorous days, this great man, whose zeal had engaged 
 him, at one time or other, in combating almost every form of 
 error, had particularly signalized himself by his efforts to 
 expose the enormous follies of Antinomianism. It is not 
 surprising, therefore, that he should have been disposed to 
 regard with peculiar jealousy and suspicion anything, however 
 trivial, which seemed to favour its progress. Even if this 
 special stimulus had been wanting, it is by no means im- 
 probable that he would have exulted, old as he was, in the 
 opportunity of once more brandishing his redoubtable quill in 
 an honourable cause. He had been all his life long a sort of 
 knight-errant in controversy, and relinquished with reluctance 
 his career of adventure. Repose was irksome : he looked with 
 a lingering eye on the trophies of his younger days, and on 
 the idle weapons which were now rusting on the wall. He 
 resembled an old war-horse, who still starts at the sound of a 
 trumpet ; or, rather, some pugnacious cudgel-player, who, as 
 soon as he comes within the grateful sound of a broil, feels 
 irresistibly impelled to take part in it. In this case, however, 
 he had something more than his innate pugnacity of disposition 
 to stimulate him. 
 
 With his usual promptitude, he drew up a paper on the 
 subject. It was just ready for publication, when Howe, hear- 
 ing of it, hastened to him, and conjured him to suppress it; 
 promising, in order to' show that his testimony to the genuine- 
 ness of Crisp's sermons implied no approbation of the doctrines 
 they advocated, to prefix his name to the forthcoming refuta- 
 tion of those doctrines which John Flavel was preparing for 
 the press, under the title of " A Blow at the Root ; or, the 
 Causes and Cures of Mental Errors." Baxter reluctantly 
 
 p
 
 210 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 acquiesced ; Howe fulfilled his promise ; and all but the most 
 obstinate were satisfied. 
 
 The controversy, however, proceeded. The press teemed 
 with pamphlets on both sides, till party spirit became inflamed 
 to a pitch of bitterness altogether unprecedented. But as it is 
 not necessary for the illustration of Howe's life and character, 
 to pursue the history of the controversy any farther, I gladly 
 drop a veil over these excesses of party. 
 
 As Howe's sentiments on the controverted points had been 
 already fully and frequently expressed in his previous writings, 
 he would not in all probability have engaged in these disputes, 
 even if they had been carried on in a less rancorous spirit. As 
 it was, a ship in a tempest would have been about as pleasant 
 to a philosopher, as such a scene of tumultuous and passionate 
 controversy to a spirit like that of John Howe.* He contented 
 himself, therefore, with an earnest attempt to soften the 
 ferocity of party spirit, and to reclaim the disputants to a 
 recollection of what was due to truth, to themselves, and to 
 one another.f 
 
 It was partly with this view that he published his sublime 
 discourses, entitled, " The Carnality of Religious Contention." J 
 He makes no special reference, however, to the controversy 
 then agitated ; but confines himself to the exposition of princi- 
 ples of universal application. 
 
 These discourses were originally preached at the Merchants' 
 
 * During a considerable part of the autumn of the year 1692, Howe was out 
 of town on a visit in the north ; probably at the seat of Lord Wharton, in 
 Yorkshire. It was at this time he visited Thoresby, from whose diary I extract 
 the following notice of him : 
 
 " Sept. 10. Afternoon, had a letter recommendatory from Lord Wharton, for 
 the eminent Mr. Howe, of London ; whose excellent company, with the Kev. 
 Mr. Todd's, I enjoyed rest of day ; and, evening, his assistance in family duty. 
 
 " 12th. Morning, enjoyed Mr. Howe's assistance in family prayer, then ac- 
 companied him to Poutefract. Lord, preserve him from the danger of his 
 journey, and convey him safe to his own habitation, that he may be continued 
 as a blessing to this nation." 
 
 In July of this year, Howe preached a funeral sermon for the Eev. John 
 Kempster, who was ejected from Brixham, Devon. He died in London. 
 
 t In 1692, appeared a paper, entitled " The Agreement in Doctrine among 
 the Dissenting Ministers in London." To this Howe's name was attached. It 
 did little or nothing towards appeasing the wrath of the contending parties. 
 
 \ The text is, " Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lusts of the 
 flesh."
 
 LIFE OF JOIIN HOWE. 211 
 
 Lecture, in Broad-street, 1693. They are distinguished in 
 almost equal degree by the exquisite spirit of charity which 
 pervades them, and the profoundly philosophical character of 
 the principles they unfold. Of the preface to these discourses, 
 Mr. Spademan, Howe's coadjutor, thus speaks : * "It breathes 
 so heavenly a charity and concern for the truly Christian 
 interest, that a very eminent divine of the Established Church 
 did profess a willingness to lay down his own life, if such 
 a state of things as is there described might obtain among 
 Christians." The most striking part of the first sermon is 
 that in which he shows that it is very possible this spirit may 
 exist in its worst forms, even where it is least likely to be 
 suspected, in the hearts of those who advocate the truth. 
 The second sermon (which is worthy of universal perusal in 
 this age of party strife) presents us with a masterly delinea- 
 tion of the various modes in which this spirit may display 
 itself. 
 
 " It displays itself/' he tells us, " when Christians, who are 
 very far agreed in the most important things, make little of 
 the things wherein they are agreed, though ever so great, 
 in comparison of the much less things wherein they differ;" 
 " when there is too much aptness to lay greater stress than is 
 needful upon some unscriptural words, in delivering Scripture 
 doctrine ; " " when we consider with too little indulgence one 
 another's mistakes and misapplications in the use even of 
 Scripture words, placing them (as some may do) upon things 
 to which they do not properly belong, when yet they agree 
 about the things themselves ; " " when there is an agreement 
 about the main and principal things that the Scripture revela- 
 tion contains and carries in it, but there is not that agreement 
 about their mutual respects and references unto one another ; " 
 " when we are over-intent to mould and square gospel truths 
 and doctrines by human measures and models, and too earnestly 
 strive to make them correspond ; " " when there is a discern- 
 ible proneness to oppose the great things of the gospel to one 
 another, and to exalt or magnify one above or against an- 
 
 * In Howe's Funeral Sermon.
 
 212 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 other ; " " when any do with great zeal contend for this or 
 that opinion or notion as very sacred and highly spiritual, 
 with no other design than that under that pretence they may 
 indulge their own carnal inclination with the greater liberty ; " 
 " when, in maintaining any doctrine of the gospel in opposition 
 to others, we industriously set ourselves to pervert their mean- 
 ing, and impute things to them that they never say; or if we 
 charge their opinions whom we oppose with consequences 
 which they disclaim ; " " when disputes arise at length to 
 wrath, to angry strife, yea, and even to fixed enmity ; " " when 
 any adventure to judge of the consciences and states of them 
 whom they oppose, or from whom they differ ; " " when we 
 over-magnify our own understandings, and assume too much 
 to ourselves ; " and, finally, ' ' in an affectation and desire of 
 having such disputes still kept afoot, and the contests con- 
 tinued, without either limit or rational design." 
 
 But the tempest of passion ran so high, that the voice of 
 reason was lost in it. In 1694, Mr. Daniel Williams* was 
 excluded from the Tuesday's Lecture at Pinners' Hall, which 
 led to the establishment of a new one on Thursday, at Salters' 
 Hall, where Howe, Bates, and Alsop, joined their expelled 
 brother. Howe's first sermon at this new Lecture is said to 
 have been deeply affecting. The text was, "And there is 
 none that calleth upon thy name, that stirreth up himself to 
 take hold of thee : for thou hast hid thy face from us, and hast 
 consumed us because of our iniquities." f 
 
 An account of the final rupture which terminated in the 
 establishment of the new Lecture, is given in an interesting 
 letter of Howe to his early and beloved friend, Mr. Spilsbury, 
 dated in the spring of the following year. It appears that he 
 had previously written on the subject, but the communication 
 does not seem to have come to hand. 
 
 It is clear, from this letter, that the spirit of the more 
 intemperate among those who remained at Pinners' Hall, soon 
 alienated the affections of the more moderate, especially of the 
 venerable and truly excellent Matthew Mead. 
 
 * Afterwards Dr. Williams, the founder of the library in Kedcross-street. 
 t Isaiah Ixiv. 7.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 213 
 
 " London, April 20, 95. 
 " M y dear Brother, 
 
 "You strangely forget yourself, when you say I gave 
 you no account of the Pinners' Hall business, of which I sent 
 you a large narrative when the business was recent ; which, if 
 it miscarried, tell me so, and I promise you I will never do the 
 like again : for it is a very discouraging thing, when it is so 
 hard a matter to get time to write such long letters, to have 
 them lost by the way ; or it is not better, if, when they are 
 received, they are taken pro non scriptis. God knows how I 
 strove against that division. Almost all my friends that 
 called me to bear a part in that lecture, perceiving the violence 
 of the other party, agreed to remove to a much more con- 
 venient place; and they were, so far as I can learn, the 
 greatest part of the ancient subscribers, who were grave, 
 sober citizens. They invited Mr. Mead as well as me. If he 
 would not go, I could not help that. His acquaintance lay 
 more among the other, as mine did with these. He and they 
 all know the many meetings we have had to prevent the 
 breach he and I with divers of them on both sides. And 
 they (who are now of Pinners' Hall) ran against his advice and 
 mine, when they had desired us to meet purposely to advise 
 them. He hath been since as weary of them as others, as he 
 hath owned to me. They avowed it for a principle, before we 
 parted, they would lay any of us aside at their pleasure, with- 
 out giving a reason ; and were told thereupon, we would lay 
 down without giving them a reason, though I think that itself 
 was a sufficient reason. They know, too, how often, since the 
 Lecture was broken into two and it appeared now there were 
 two congregations, which no one place could receive I have 
 urged, both publicly and privately, that the same lecturers 
 might alternate in both places, which would take away all 
 appearance of disunion, and who they were only that opposed 
 it. Upon these terms I had preached with them still ; but I 
 will not be tied to them, nor any party, so as to abandon all 
 others. My frequent insisting, in sermons among them, when 
 I saw whither things tended, that these were tokens of what 
 was coming, (just as thou writest,) will be thought on, it may 
 be, hereafter, though then it was not. Above all, that which 
 determined me was, that when I solemnly proposed to them, 
 in a sermon, the keeping a fast, before they went on to that 
 fatal rupture and it was as solemnly promised by the chief of 
 them, there should be no step further made without a fast it
 
 214 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 should be declined afterwards. Hereupon I told them, in my 
 last sermon there, I should be afraid of confining myself to 
 such as were afraid of fasting and prayer in so important a 
 case, (repeating their own good resolution to that purpose,) 
 and began my course in the other place with a fast, to lament 
 what we could not prevent. These things will be recollected 
 another day. 
 
 "In the meantime, there never was greater intimacy or 
 endearedness between Mr. Mead and me than now. Last 
 week he desired me only, without any other, to join with him 
 in keeping a fast at his house, about some private affairs of 
 his own, which we did. I was to have preached at his place 
 to-morrow, after my own work at home ; but present indis- 
 position prevents me as to both. We have, however, agreed 
 to exchange sometimes : but this cannot last long. The things 
 that threaten us make haste. Only let us be found among the 
 mourners in Zion : comforts will come, in this or the better 
 world. I just now heard from Mr. Porter out of Sussex, who 
 inquires after thee. 
 
 " In the Lord, farewell : 
 " To thee and thine, 
 
 " From me and mine, 
 
 " With most entire and 
 undecaying affection, 
 
 Simultaneously with these unseemly disputes, occurred 
 others, scarcely less so, on the Trinitarian controversy, prin- 
 cipally, however, amongst writers in the Establishment. 
 Amongst others who had recently published on the subject, 
 were Wallis, Sherlock, South, and Cudworth. A tract having 
 appeared, professing to be a review of the several theories 
 maintained by these writers, Howe was induced to compose 
 his celebrated piece, entitled, " A Calm and Sober Inquiry." 
 This was followed, the same year, by a " Postscript," contain- 
 ing certain letters to Dr. Wallis ; to which, in reply to some 
 animadversions that had been made on the " Inquiry," he 
 afterwards added some further remarks. 
 
 In the year 1694, as appears from the following letters, 
 published in this work for the first time, from the MSS. in 
 the library at Woburn Abbey, Howe paid a visit to the Duke
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 215 
 
 of Bedford. The following letter is addressed to his Grace's 
 chaplain, and apologizes, for not having visited Woburn Abbey 
 again, according to promise. 
 
 TO THE EEV. MR. THOENTON. 
 
 " Love-lane,* Aldermanbury , 
 
 "London, Aug. 16, 94. 
 " Worthy Sir, 
 
 " When I lately waited on my Lord Duke, it not a 
 little troubled me that my narrow limits of time allowed me 
 not to comply with his Grace's desire of passing one Lord's 
 day at Woburn Abbey ; which I told him (having then been 
 some weeks already absent from the congregation under my 
 care) I might better do after I had been some time at home. 
 I did, therefore, in pursuance of that intention, begin my 
 journey Tuesday last ; but by that time I had rid to Highgate, 
 so violent a rain fell, that I was forced to take up for several 
 hours ; and upon its holding up a little, went on as far as Bar- 
 net, in continual rain; for that intermission wherein I set 
 forward afresh proved very short. And (that I may freely 
 accuse myself to you) I was so great a coward, that, not having 
 of late been used to ride in wet weather, fearing ill conse- 
 quences, I durst adventure no further ; but yesterday morning, 
 rot seeing any hope of better weather, I returned home. You 
 know better than I (with the tender of my humble duty) to 
 make an apology for me to his Grace, as handsomely as the 
 matter will admit. My turn's now come on at our monthly 
 Lecture, which, by our ordinary rule, is not wont to be trans- 
 ferred, and will tie me here some weeks : for in each month 
 two alternate, each preaching twice in the month : and after- 
 wards, I doubt the journey is not to be attempted on horseback. 
 Nor do I know another way as yet. Perhaps I may obtain 
 the indulgence to have it judged in my case though the thing 
 attempted was not great voluisse sat est. I lately met in the 
 street (which you may please, with the tender of my humblest 
 services, to let my Lady Russell know) Mrs. Howland, in her 
 coach, which she suddenly caused to be stopped, and told me 
 that, being shortly to take a journey to Canmers in Essex, 
 
 * In what year Howe removed to Love-lane I know not. All the subsequent 
 letters, except two, are dated from thence : those are dated from St. John- 
 street.
 
 216 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 she desired to see me at Streatham before she went, where, 
 waiting on her, after some discourse, I having intimated to her, 
 that probably I might ere long see Woburn Abbey, she desired 
 me to say some things to my Lady Russell, which I shall not 
 write, unless my Lady command it, and give direction to 
 whom, (for I know her ladyship is not to be put upon using 
 her own eyes in reading letters ;* ) yet, so far I can apprehend, 
 it is rather decency than the nature of the thing I have to say, 
 that makes me so reserved for the present. f 
 
 " I kiss the hands of your noble charge; and am, 
 "Sir, 
 
 " Your very respectful, 
 
 " Humble Servant, 
 
 " JOHN HOWH. 
 
 "My Lord Duke's intended favour of venison (though I 
 have little reason to expect it) is now like to find me at home 
 the next week. 
 
 " Give my respects to Mr. Bingley. 
 
 " For the Rev. Mr. Thornton, 
 
 " Chaplain to his Grace the Duke of Bedford, 
 
 " At Woburn Abbey, Bedfordshire." 
 
 * Lady Bussell was at this time nearly blind. 
 
 t I have little doubt that this has some reference to the proposed marriage 
 between Wriothesley, son of Lady Eachel Eussell, and Elizabeth, daughter and 
 co-heiress of John Rowland, of Streatham, with whom he received a princely 
 fortune. The marriage took place in the following year, 1695 ; and, in conse- 
 quence of it, he was created Baron Howland, of Streatham, in the county of 
 Surrey. 
 
 We have already had one other instance of Howe's being employed in negoti- 
 ations of this kind. We may mention a third. He had some years before been 
 commissioned by the wealthy merchant, Sir Josiah Child, to propose a marriage 
 between this very son of Lady Bussell, and Sir Josiah's grand-daughter, the 
 Lady Henrietta Somerset. This proposal Lady Bussell declined ; on which 
 the merchant, evidently somewhat piqued, wrote to Howe as follows : " I re- 
 ceived your favour of the 22nd inst., and your letter of the 28th. The answer 
 intimated in your first was so cold, that I concluded the noble lady either 
 understood not the considerableness of the proposal, or had predetermined the 
 disposal of her son some other way, and did expect to hear no more of it : the 
 rather I thought so, from that expression in your letter, that the young lord 
 was in the course of his education, which I never knew to be a bar to parents 
 discoursing of the matching of their children, which are born to extraordinary 
 great fortunes ; and that being the case of the noble young lord, as well as of 
 my grand-daughter, made me the forwarder, without her mother's privacy, to 
 write that letter to you, that so great a fortune, as God's providence has cast 
 upon her, might fall into the best and most pious noble family I know for such 
 I esteem my Lord Bedford's to be."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 217 
 
 Notwithstanding Howe's doubts, the promised venison 
 arrived in a few days. His correspondent having dated the 
 letter which accompanied it a day too late, he makes a playful 
 allusion to this circumstance, at the commencement of his re- 
 ply : " The venison/' he says, " is incomparably good ; " 
 which is the nearest approach to anything like an expression 
 of animal gratification that is to be found in any writings of 
 John Howe. Doubtless, however, he found, like less abstracted 
 mortals, that physical enjoyment was not altogether to be 
 despised. 
 
 The note does not contain much ; yet it is amusing, as con- 
 taining one or two of the little touches, which show us that 
 human nature, in its familiar moods, is always the same, and 
 that the gravest of our race have eaten, and drank, and jested, 
 and laughed, like their less sedate fellows. 
 
 "Love-lane, Aldermanbury, 
 
 Aug. 21, 94. 
 
 " The venison is arrived with greater expedition than if ifc 
 had come upon its own swift legs. For by the date of your 
 letter, the 21st, it is here as soon as it could be sent away 
 from Woburn Park. Hdc raptim. It is indeed incomparably 
 good. I am mightily pleased to think, my most humble thanks 
 to his Grace, will by such a hand as yours be tendered with 
 that becoming decency, that would have been wanting, had 
 the part of a grateful orator been to be immediately performed 
 
 t>y, 
 
 " Sir, 
 " Your very respectful, humble Servant, 
 
 " JOHN HOWE." 
 
 In this year he addressed the following letter of condolence 
 to a lady, whose name is unknown, on the loss of a daughter. 
 
 " Dear and honoured Madam, 
 
 " Did you think, two or three months ago, such a 
 trial was so near ? Such sad futurities God, in mercy to us, 
 hides from us, that we may not afflict ourselves before he 
 afflicts us; and that when he intends we should suffer that 
 particular affliction but once, namely, when it comes, we may 
 not impose so hardly upon ourselves, as to suffer it a thousand
 
 218 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 times over before it comes. ' Sufficient for the day/ &c. If 
 lie should have made us all prophets, in reference to all the 
 events of our time, we should bring all the evils of every 
 future day into every former day ; as if the evil of the day 
 were not enough for the day. 
 
 " But though he gives us not certain predictions of such 
 evils, lest he should torment us. he gives forewarnings, lest 
 he should surprise us. He hath told us we must all once die, 
 and not when ; that life is a vapour ; that all flesh is grass ; 
 that the beauty or glory of it is but as the flower of grass; 
 withering things ! He hath asserted his own dominion over 
 lives, and over the spirits of all flesh, as the God of them, to 
 lodge and dislodge them, where and as he pleases. And who 
 are we, that we should grudge him that dominion ; or so much 
 as wish we could have wrested that part of his empire out of 
 his hands ? But when he afflicts, it is good to consider what 
 it is for. It comes not ' out of the dust/ though it may reduce 
 us or ours thither. And if our utmost search cannot find out 
 a particular cause, (wherein we should take heed of being too 
 indulgent and partial to ourselves, but should beg that what 
 we know not he would teach us,) yet we should, however, more 
 earnestly endeavour to improve the affliction to the general 
 end, which we may be sure he aims at ; to withdraw our minds 
 from this present world and state of things ; to take heed of 
 being peremptory in laying any designs that must be measured 
 by time, and be subject to the uncertainties of it ; to determine 
 nothing but with that reserve, ' If God will, we shall do this, 
 or that/ James iv. 15; to have our minds engulfed and 
 swallowed up, not of the stream of time, but of the ocean of 
 eternity ; to be easily taken off from any purpose, the scene 
 whereof must be laid on this earth or lower world ; to have 
 our hearts more entirely and more strongly set upon God, so 
 as to be able to say, ' Whom have I in heaven or earth besides 
 thee ? ' that the true end may be gain, though such a comfort 
 be lost, and the particular offending cause cannot be found. 
 
 " We may err, in thinking some such particular offence 
 must be fastened upon. If it clearly can, it ought ; if not, it 
 is better forbear judging than misjudge. Possibly, chasten- 
 ing for a particular sin may not be God's design : it is not 
 always. We may be sure it never is his principal design, in 
 taking away one relative from another. He made all things 
 (principally) for himself; he made us but secondarily for one 
 another. If his principal design in making such a creature
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 219 
 
 was not to please me, his principal design in taking it away 
 was not to displease or afflict me. He hath his own greater 
 and higher end concerning his own creature, to glorify himself 
 upon it, and by it, in a greater world than this. Many afflic- 
 tions are for trial ; and that in such a case is an awful thought. 
 
 " The jealous God hath me now under trial, how I can bear, 
 how I can submit, how I can reverence his hand, how I can 
 behave myself towards Trim when he afflicts; whether I will 
 venture to contend with him, or be sullen and morose towards 
 him, because he hath bereaved me of a child I delighted in ; 
 whether I better loved him or my child. The trial may be 
 manifold ; of my faith, of my patience, of my fear of him, of 
 my love to him; and, I may add, it maybe intended for a 
 trial of gratitude, and a mighty trial that is. We are required 
 in everything to give thanks. And Job did it, and said, 
 ' Blessed be the name of the Lord/ when with all his sub- 
 stance he took away all his children at once ; ' The Lord hath 
 given, the Lord hath taken/ The injunction, ' In every thing 
 give thanks/ signifies there is in everything some matter of 
 praise. I know not so immediately what was in this case ; 
 but if there was what I have heard, great indications of early 
 piety, if there were grounds to hope there were a work of re- 
 generation wrought, there is infinitely more matter of thanks- 
 giving than complaint. What had the life of a child been 
 worth without this ? when better never to have been born ! 
 It is a far greater thing if he have taken her as his own child, 
 than if he had left her to you, only as yours. If you have 
 faith to look into the unseen world, and behold her taken into 
 the society of angels, and of the spirits of just men made per- 
 fect, how much more hath Grod done for her and you, than if 
 he had left her to your care and provision in this wretched 
 world ! We are told there is joy in heaven for the conversion 
 of a sinner : much more for the glorification of a convert ! 
 That joy ought to swallow up in very great part your sorrow. 
 The good Lord frame your spirit suitably to these things, in 
 whom I am 
 
 " Your truly respectful Servant, 
 
 " (Very sensible of your case,) 
 
 " J. HOWE. 
 
 " Love-lane, Aldermanbury, 
 
 " London, Sept. 29, 1694." 
 
 In December, 1694, Howe's congregation removed to a new
 
 220 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 chapel, in Silver-street. The place in which they had hitherto 
 worshipped belonged to the Haberdashers' Company. Howe's 
 colleague at this period was Mr. Thomas Reynolds.* 
 
 In 1695, he published the Funeral Sermon for Queen Mary. 
 It is entitled, " Heaven a State of Perfection," and is dedicated 
 to Lady Russell. 
 
 Thoresby was in town this year, and heard Howe. He has 
 thus noted the circumstance in his diary. " May 19, Die 
 Dom. Heard the famous Mr. Howe, both morning and after- 
 noon, who preached incomparably." 
 
 In this year, within eight months of one another, died 
 Howe's old patron and his lady, the Viscount and Viscountess 
 Massarene. Their daughter Mary, as stated on a preceding 
 page, had married Sir Charles Hoghton, of Hoghton Tower, 
 in the county of Lancaster. With them and their family Howe 
 maintained a most endeared intimacy until his death. On the 
 decease of her parents, he sent Lady Hoghton the following 
 letter of condolence. 
 
 " Most honoured, dear Madam, 
 
 " When I heard of your former great loss, I was con- 
 fined by distemper to my bed : and I received information of 
 the other, when I was going a great journey to accompany 
 my wife and daughter to the Bath, from whence they are not 
 returned as yet, and I came home from my journeyings but 
 last week. I have not in the meantime forgot your ladyship's 
 affliction, nor been without the apprehension how tender a 
 sense your loss of two such parents must be accompanied with. 
 Nor should I now mention it, did I not apprehend it may yet 
 be reflected on to better pui'pose, than only to renew your 
 sorrow. And that it may, I pray you, let it be remembered 
 in the first place, with serious gratitude, (for we are required 
 in everything to give thanks,) that God continued to you the 
 comfort of such relations so long, and for the many mercies 
 he made them instrumental of to you, in your tender years ; 
 that he vouchsafed to you the blessing of so excellent an 
 education by their means ; that you were thereby brought to 
 know him and his Christ ; that by their care you were so 
 
 * Calamy's Life and Times, vol. i., p. 339.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 221 
 
 comfortably settled in the world, and in a station wherein he 
 hath given you the opportunity of being so serviceable in 
 building up a family for him, and of contributing to the plant- 
 ing and propagating religion in it ; and that you see so much 
 of a blessing from heaven upon the plantation. Your part 
 is that of a mother, and you have had a great example before 
 your eyes. That may still live (and I doubt not will) in your 
 mind and heart, while the person that gave it still lives in a 
 higher region, whither, following such steps, you also will be 
 translated in the fittest season. 
 
 " I pray for the welfare, in all valuable respects, of your 
 ladyship, and all yours ; being, in great sincerity, your lady- 
 ship's 
 
 "Most respectful, 
 
 "And most faithful, humble Servant, 
 
 "J. HOWE. 
 
 "Love-lane, Aldermanbury , London, 
 "Sept. 5, 1695." 
 
 I find no further trace of Howe till 1697, when he wrote 
 a letter to Mr. Spademan, who was then residing at Eotter- 
 dam, but who was soon to become his colleague. The con- 
 templated connexion between them forms, in all probability, 
 the main subject of the letter; at the same time, I confess, 
 the allusions in it are for the most part unintelligible to me. 
 I found the document among the MSS. in the Ayscough 
 catalogue, British Museum. It is given below.* 
 
 * To ME. SPADEMAN. 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " You very well know, and I desire to consider, that to mutter, or even 
 more inwardly to repine, at that providence which overrules all our affairs, 
 especially when they are involved with the concernments of many others be- 
 sides, is both undutiful and vain ; injures the sovereign Kuler, and doth our- 
 selves no good. My last to you was by the gentleman of whom I had writ to 
 you before. But I presume he may still be in the fleet that hath lain wind- 
 bound some weeks at Harwich. The truth is, before he went hence, he was in 
 [doubt] whether to go with that or the packet-boat, but his friends have 
 advised him to the former course, as safer, and possibly, if the wind proved 
 direct, (considering the land journey to Harwich,) more expeditious: but being 
 actually [close,] and the wind continuing long adverse, I thought, he, being 
 before indifferent, might have left the fleet to go with the packet that sails often 
 with a less favourable wind than fleets use to set forth with. But I apprehend 
 the continual expectation of a change of wind would withhold him. And my 
 expectation of the same change hath withheld me too from writing by the 
 packet ever since : still supposing what I writ by him would be sooner with
 
 222 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 On the day of thanksgiving for the restoration of peace, 
 December 2, 1697, Howe preached a sermon, which was 
 published in the ensuing year. It was dedicated to Lord 
 Haversham. 
 
 In the beginning of 1698, he addressed the two following 
 letters to his venerable friend, Mr. Spilsbury, which closed 
 their long and delightful intimacy. 
 
 " My dear Brother, 
 
 " How hard a matter is it to keep up converse at this 
 rate ! when all that is pleasant and gainful in it lies on one 
 side only. I read thy lines with fruit and delight ; but have 
 nothing to return of any value. And if a conscience is to be 
 exercised in this sort of traffic, or indeed but a tolerable in- 
 genuity, it cannot but occasion some regret, to barter away 
 things of no worth for good commodities. If I tell thee I 
 live, what doth that signify ? when life itself is so little worth, 
 how despicable is the notice of it ! If I tell thee I love thee, 
 thou knowest it before as to the quod sit; but for the quid 
 sit, no words can express it; therefore the offer at it is vain. 
 When, when shall we meet above ? That will make us pure 
 good company, when dulness and sluggishness are shaken otf 
 and gone, and we shall be all spirit and life. Yet we shall be 
 doing our Lord some service here, or that lie will accept as 
 such, if we be sincere. Thou wilt be visited by a worthy 
 person ere long, that is gone first to Kidderminster, and means, 
 after he hath seen the son, to come to the father. 
 
 " Cordial salutations from me and mine, to thee and thine. 
 Farewell in our dear Lord : and still remember, 
 
 " Thy entirely affectionate, 
 
 " J. HOWE. 
 " St. John-street, Jan. 25, 1698." 
 
 " May I once more hope to salute my dear brother in this 
 world ? Whether I shall or not, I must leave to Him to whom 
 
 you. I saw what your last said to Mr. Gunston. When either his, or mine by 
 Mr. Wallis,or this, reaches your hands, you will be delivered from your [amaze- 
 ment,] which .the wind (continuing long so constantly opposite) hath, I hope, 
 in good measure, expelled already. Patient expectation of the issue, with 
 prayers and hopes of a good one, is the [duty] of you and 
 
 " Your affectionate Brother and Servant, 
 
 "J.H. 
 " London, April 6, 1697."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 223 
 
 greater, and all things, must be left. Thou mayest have taken 
 thy flight before this reach thee ; but the soul and spirit from 
 whence it conies may in due time, through the infinite riches 
 of freest grace, and the atoning blood of that sacrifice which 
 once for all was offered up. ' We come to the general assembly 
 and to the spirits of just men made perfect/ but as we come 
 to ' Jesus the Mediator of the new testament, and to the 
 blood of sprinkling/ f By his own blood he is entered into 
 the holy of holies, as the forerunner, and for us/ Upon such 
 terms may sinful unprofitable servants hope to enter, and be 
 received under the notion of faithful, and as those that are 
 graciously counted such, into the joy of their Lord. Thou 
 art ready to enter, and wilt shortly be adoring before the 
 throne : oh, with what complacency, receiving the end of thy 
 faith, having fought the good fight of it ! And must thy 
 poor brethren left behind, sigh and groan still ? amidst their 
 drowsy hearers, and too drowsy fruitless labours ? But I 
 envy thee not ; and those that are dearest and nearest to thee 
 owe thee so much as to rejoice in thy joy, while they cannot 
 as yet in their own. Thou art upon my heart, if God saw it 
 good, to live and die with thee. This day se'nnight thy 
 worthy brother B. and my brother F. dined with me, when 
 thou wast most affectionately remembered ; but art no day 
 forgotten, by thy sincere lover, and of all thine, hoping and 
 aiming (though faintly) to be thy follower. 
 
 " J. HOWE. 
 " March 18, 1698." 
 
 " If there be joy in heaven for a converted sinner, shall 
 there not for a glorified saint, and the leader and teacher of 
 many such; some that are in glory, and others that shortly 
 shall be ? Oh, the triumph at thy abundant entrance ! " 
 
 Mr. Spilsbury died the 10th of July following. 
 
 In this year Howe addressed the following striking letter 
 of consolation to Sir Charles and Lady Hoghton, on the 
 loss of that hopeful and beloved son, on whose untimely death 
 he composed his sublime discourse on "The Redeemer's 
 Dominion over the Invisible World." 
 
 " Most worthily honoured Sir, with my dearest and most 
 honoured Lady, 
 
 "It would be incomparably more grievous to me at
 
 224 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 this time to write to you, if I were under a necessity of writing- 
 nothing but what were mournful and sad. The same thing 1 , if 
 we turn it round, will be found to have a double aspect. Tha^ 
 dispensation that represents you deprived of an earthly son, 
 speaks you the parents of a glorified child, more highly dig- 
 nified than it was possible he could have been on earth. This 
 post brings you greater news than if it had informed you, 
 your son is created emperor of Germany, or king of France or 
 Spain. Let us speak and think of things as we believe, and 
 profess to believe. Indeed, if our apprehensions of their 
 state in the unseen world, who were true lovers of God, have 
 nothing of solace and pleasure in them, it is mere useless 
 empty profession they are all to be resolved into, and not 
 faith. 
 
 " My heart bleeds for you, and with you both, but it can do 
 you no good to tell you so. I believe your lovely son unfeign- 
 edly loved God ; and then read the rest, 1 Cor. ii. 9 ; James i. 
 10, 12. Of how great use might he have been in this world ! 
 But, are those glorious creatures above, to whom he is now 
 joined, inactive or unemployed ? And are not their em- 
 ployments more noble and sublime, according to the more 
 enlarged capacity of their faculties, and the higher dignity of 
 their state ? He was born to very considerable things as your 
 heir ; but ' he was begotten again to a more glorious inherit- 
 ance, and the lively hope of it.' They that were about him, 
 before it was possible for me to see him, told me he was in- 
 sensible, as he was before I heard of his illness ; but at my 
 coming to him, he knew me at first sight, and seemed to have 
 the use of his understanding for nothing but religion. He 
 then spake not one misplaced word; said, he doubted not 
 God was his Father, and that his present affliction was from 
 the hand of that Father, not of an enemy. He desired me to 
 pray with him, and seemed understandingly and affectionately 
 to concur. This was on the Lord's day, and the next was the 
 day of his glorious translation, near noon, before I could reach 
 him a second time. 
 
 " Mr. C came to me presently after, to advise with me 
 
 about disposal of the body ; who could give no advice but in 
 the general, to have it prepared for interment in a way that 
 might be decent, and not profusely expensive; not doubting 
 but that there might be more particular direction from your- 
 self, before actual interment, sent to Mr. C , &c., who is 
 
 willing to take the care upon him of seeing instructions fulfilled.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 225 
 
 " The Lord support you both, and abundantly bless the 
 rest of yours. 
 
 " I am, most honoured Sir and Madam, 
 
 " Your most affectionately sympathising 
 " Servant in Christ our Lord, 
 
 " JOHN HOWE. 
 ' ' St. John-street, London, 
 "Jan. 14, 1698." 
 
 In this year he printed a funeral sermon for his old college 
 friend, the Rev. Richard Adams ; and also a discourse preached 
 before the " Societies for Reformation of Manners." 
 
 The following year, 1699, must have been to Howe a most 
 melancholy one, and must have drawn largely on his strength 
 and spirits. Within a few months he lost two of his oldest 
 and most endeared friends, the Rev. Matthew Mead, and the 
 Rev. Dr. Bates. He preached the funeral sermons for bothj 
 and these were afterwards printed. 
 
 About this time his friend Thoresby, having long practised 
 what was called " Occasional Conformity," (on which, some 
 remarks will be found in the following pages,) went over 
 entirely to the Church of England. He had been a member 
 of the Presbyterian church, under the care of Dr. Manlove, of 
 Leeds. The editor of Thoresby's Journal says, "Mr. John 
 Howe, a very eminent nonconformist minister, wrote on the 
 subject to Mr. Boyse, of Dublin, who happened to be at Leeds 
 at the time, a letter which seems to have been intended for 
 Thoresby's perusal." This letter I have recovered. I found 
 it among the MSS. in the Ayscough catalogue. It is as 
 follows. 
 
 TO THE EEV. ME. BOYSE, AT MR. THOS. FENTON's, IN LEEDS. 
 
 " Worthy Sir, 
 
 " The K went away the night before yours came to 
 my hand, which is too short, but a full answer to all the first 
 part of your letter. I have thought Dr. M[anlove]'s removes 
 to have been twice too hasty. I shall be glad, for the sake of 
 so considerable a place as Leeds, if a supply can be got satis- 
 factory and seasonable, that no prejudice accrue by the change. 
 It hath been said here, it hath so much disgusted Mr. R. 
 
 Q
 
 226 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 Thoresby, that lie inclines totally to withdraw to the Church ; 
 and that to justify his inclination, if not intentions to that 
 purpose, he hath in some late discourses seemed to lay great 
 stress upon that trivial sophism, rather than argument, that, 
 if occasional communion (that is, with the Church of England) 
 was lawful, constant [communion] was a duty. This I am not 
 to take notice of to him. But if you have time to discourse 
 with him, and shall, or have heard anything to the purpose 
 from him, it were well, if he were closely dealt with, before 
 your leaving that town. He hath seemed to have a great 
 reverence for Mr. Baxter, who, I believe, gave as full assent to 
 this proposition as to most, ' That occasional communion with 
 the Church of England was lawful ; ' and to this, ' That our 
 distinct communions in our present circumstances were neces- 
 sary/ I neither have [call] nor time (Saturday evening) to 
 discuss this matter. The [above] excellent author hath said 
 enough to prove this ; [and to keep] a man of Mr. T.'s under- 
 standing from being imposed upon by so transparent a fallacy. 
 If theirs or any church be put to it to show their authority for 
 making other terms of church-communion than Christ hath 
 made, and then to make theirs the sole communion within such 
 and such districts, our practice (till they have proved that 
 talk) may with great satisfaction be continued long enough. 
 ***** And if such a [cause,] to which so great a 
 part of God's heritage in England have borne witness, by 
 about forty years' suffering, and to which God hath borne 
 witness by the great [success] and blessing he hath given to 
 them in their tabernacles, (when in this way they have endea- 
 deavoured to keep [alive a sense of religion] in a time when 
 hell was endeavouring the total extirpation and extinction of 
 it,) shall be deserted and given up by a man of Mr. T/s 
 abilities, upon such a trifle of an argument, it will stand 
 without him ; but I should be sorry that he should lose the 
 things he hath wrought, so as not to obtain that full reward 
 I wish him. If you have time, you will need none of these 
 suggestions from, 
 
 e< Your affectionate Brother, 
 
 "H. I. 
 
 " Other matters must be left till your desired return. 
 " January 3, 99."* 
 
 * Under this is written by another hand ; " Alias J. H., namely, Mr. John 
 Howe ; the noted N. C. minister, at London ; a learned, pious, and excellent 
 man, though I suppose not infallible in this argument."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 227 
 
 The above letter forms no unsuitable introduction to the 
 account it is needful to give of the unpleasant controversy in 
 which Howe was involved, in 1701-2, respecting " Occasional 
 Conformity." As the principles on which he defended that 
 practice (whatever may be thought of the extent to which he 
 applied them) are precisely the same with those "which are 
 employed to advocate catholic intercommunion among Chris- 
 tians of all denominations, a subject which is deservedly 
 attracting the attention of many of the excellent of all parties, 
 I shall make no apology for treating the matter at some 
 length. 
 
 From the very commencement of the great schism of 1662, 
 many of the more moderate nonconformists, both lay and 
 clerical, had practised "occasional communion" with the 
 Church of England ; partly, because it was the establishment, 
 under some modification of which they would have been 
 willing to " conform,"* although they could not approve of 
 the present constitution ; and partly (in the case of Howe it 
 was the principal reason,) for the purpose of recognising the 
 essential unity of Christians of every name, and expressing 
 sympathy with the church universal. The same principle of 
 course implied a willingness on his part to hold occasional 
 communion with any other body of Christians, with whom 
 such communion was not, in his estimation, sinful. The ques- 
 tion, then, must evidently be determined by the nature of the 
 objections on which the person seceding justified his seces- 
 sion ; in other words, by the state of the individual conscience. 
 If a man thought the very rites and ceremonies, in which he 
 would be called to join in any such communion, either sinful 
 in themselves, or sinful from the circumstances attending the 
 performance of them, there can be no doubt that in him, 
 "occasional conformity" would be altogether unjustifiable. 
 If, on the other hand, he did not think this ; but justified his 
 secession on the ground, that it is every man's duty ordinarily 
 to adopt that system 'of worship which in his conscience he 
 
 * It must be remembered that the bulk of the early nonconformists did not 
 object to the principle of establishments.
 
 228 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 believes to be most in harmony with the New Testament, and 
 best calculated to promote his own spiritual benefit, it is 
 obvious that such a man might consistently adopt the practice 
 in question ; since he would not suppose the mere act of com- 
 munion with the Church of England, sinful, but merely that 
 the system of worship adopted in another community possessed 
 greater advantages. Supposing Howe sincere in declaring 
 such to be his sentiments, of which there has never, so far as 
 I know, been the shadow of a doubt, then the best way of 
 testing the soundness of the principles by which he justified 
 the practice, is to throw the argument into a general form, 
 putting the Church of England, or any other community, 
 entirely out of the question. 
 
 The advocate of the practice would reason thus : He would 
 say, that of differing forms and modes of worship, every man 
 is bound, as a general rule, to adhere to that which he believes 
 most in accordance with the nature and design of the gospel, 
 and best adapted to promote his spiritual welfare; but that 
 such reasons do not bind him invariably to abstain from com- 
 munion with any other body of Christians with whom, in his 
 estimation, such communion can be practised without sin j 
 that is, whose system he does not deem unlawful, but simply 
 not so advantageous as his own ; that with all such parties he 
 is fully warranted to hold occasional communion, (either on 
 stated occasions, or as circumstances may afford convenient 
 opportunity,) for the purpose of practically recognising the 
 essential unity of the universal church, and his own sense both 
 of the infinite importance of those points in which all Christians 
 agree, and the comparative insignificance of those in which 
 they differ ; this being a much more noble end than any which 
 could be subserved by invariable communion only with his own 
 party.* 
 
 Different persons may of course judge differently as to what 
 is not absolutely unlawful in the modes of worship adopted by 
 
 * To illustrate this ; who would deny that a Congregationalist might safely 
 practise occasional worship or communion with a body of Presbyterians or 
 Wesleyan Methodists, although he would, for the reasons already mentioned, 
 statedly prefer the modes of worship adopted by his own body ?
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 229 
 
 other religious communities than their own. This question, as 
 I have said, must be determined, after all, by a reference to 
 the conscience of the individual. Many of Howe's contem- 
 poraries, for instance, could not have held communion with the 
 Church of England ; yet Tie might safely do it. 
 
 Into the discussion of the limits within which the above 
 principles should be applied, I do not enter. The general 
 correctness of the principles themselves is all that I at present 
 maintain. 
 
 To affirm, as was often done, that he who could go thus far, 
 ought to go farther, and that if occasional conformity was law- 
 ful, constant conformity was lawful also, or, as it was some- 
 times argued, even a duty : in other words, to affirm that 
 what an individual might, for special reasons, sometimes do, 
 that he ought for general reasons to do always, is to forget 
 the very grounds on which the man is supposed to secede ; 
 namely, because he is in duty bound to adopt as his ordinary 
 system of religious worship, not that in which he might join 
 without positive sin, but that which he deems most scriptural 
 and most profitable.* Besides, in the case of Howe, as well as 
 of every other minister) was there no difference between an 
 occasional compliance with certain rites and ceremonies, which 
 he did not think unlawful, and his acquiescence in the oaths and 
 subscriptions required by the Act of Uniformity ; his ex-animo 
 assent and consent to everything contained in the Thirty-nine 
 Articles, and the Book of Common Prayer ? Would not entire 
 conformity, moreover, have demanded (what in his case would 
 have been worse than all the rest) a renunciation of that liberty 
 of universal communion which was far dearer to him than the 
 ties of party, and the adoption of that exclusive system, against 
 which this, his condemned practice of occasional conformity, 
 was mainly designed as a testimony ? 
 
 But it is time to proceed to a brief narrative of the controversy 
 on this subject, in which Howe became involved. Amongst 
 
 * To recur to the illustration of the preceding note ; what would be thought 
 of the man who should argue that a Congregationalist, who occasionally, and 
 for special reasons, held communion with Wesleyan Methodists, was bound to 
 adopt their system of ecclesiastical polity and discipline ?
 
 230 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 other persons who, on the principles above explained, practised 
 " occasional conformity/' was Sir Thomas Abney, a member of 
 Howe's congregation. In 1701, he became Lord Mayor of 
 London, and some persons began to suspect that he practised 
 occasional conformity, simply as a qualification for civil office. 
 It is proper to add, for the purpose of doing full justice to 
 Howe's conduct, that Sir Thomas had formed his opinions on 
 this subject long before it was probable that he would be 
 called on to comply with the law which made it imperative on 
 every person holding any civil office to partake of the Lord's 
 supper as administered in the Church of England. Amongst 
 others who were scandalized at his conduct, was Daniel De Foe, 
 who published an anonymous pamphlet, entitled, " Inquiry 
 into the Occasional Conformity of Dissenters." The preface 
 is addressed to Howe, who is required, either to vindicate the 
 practice, or to condemn it. Howe showed some reluctance to 
 enter into the controversy with his anonymous antagonist; 
 but at length overcame his scruples, and put forth a small 
 pamphlet, entitled, " Some Considerations of a Preface to an 
 ' Inquiry concerning the Occasional Conformity of Dissenters.' ' 
 In the introduction he justifies his own consistency by an appeal 
 to his known moderation of sentiment on the subject of the 
 controversies between the Church and the nonconformists ; and 
 quotes largely from the letter which he had prefixed to his 
 "Delighting in God," and which had been published more 
 than twenty years before. He there declares, " That he for 
 a long time had' had an habitual aversion in his own mind, 
 from perplexing himself, or disturbing others, by being con- 
 cerned in agitating the controversies that have been on foot 
 about the circumstantials of religion ; that he had contented 
 himself, by the best means he could be furnished with, and the 
 best use God enabled him to make of them, so far to form and 
 settle his own judgment, as was necessary to his own practice; 
 that he had faithfully followed his judgment, and abstained in 
 the meantime from censuring others, who took a different way 
 from him ; that he was sensible every one must give account 
 of himself to God : and that it is a great consolation to such as 
 sincerely fear God, that if with upright minds they principally
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 231 
 
 study to approve themselves to him, and, if they mistake, do 
 only err for fearing of erring, he will not with severity ani- 
 madvert upon the infirmity of a weak and merely misguided 
 judgment." He then proceeds to an able and closely reasoned 
 defence of the practice on the principles I have already ex- 
 plained.* Howe declared at the close of this pamphlet, that 
 no reply of his adversary should provoke him to resume his 
 pen. De Foe, whose habits of controversy were inveterate, of 
 course replied ; and here the matter ended. 
 
 But though Howe published nothing farther in his life-time 
 on this subject, a letter was found among his papers, addressed 
 to a noble lord, and drawn up with much ability. I here sub- 
 join it. 
 
 * Walter Wilson, Esq., the learned and laborious author of the " History of 
 Dissenting Churches," and the " Life of De Foe," after quoting, in the latter 
 work, (vol. ii., pp. 37, 38,) part of the above citation from Calamy, says, " Not- 
 withstanding the liberality of these sentiments, they were beside the question ;" 
 as though they were the main arguments on which Howe insisted. This remark 
 would lead one to suppose, (what I confess from his habits of accurate research 
 would be improbable, ) that the writer had not read the tract of Howe in ques- 
 tion ; or, at least, that he had not read it for some time. 
 
 If, however, it be true, that the propriety of this practice as respected the 
 Church of England, must, after all, be decided by the nature of the objections 
 on which the seceder grounds his dissent, that is, by the state of the individual 
 conscience ; the above remarks are not " beside the question," but most strictly 
 to the purpose. 
 
 Mr. Wilson observes, that in " his controversy with De Foe, Howe gained no 
 credit." I confess myself unable to perceive that he lost any. That his pamph- 
 let is written with more severity than is his wont is most true. But it must 
 also be confessed that he had considerable provocation. Thus De Foe had 
 entitled his pamphlet, " An Inquiry into the Practice of Occasional Conformity, 
 in Cases of Preferment ; " evidently intending to insinuate (for such a title would 
 have been absurd unless this had been his intention) that the conduct of Sir 
 Thomas Abney had been prompted by the basest and most sinister motives; 
 although if he did not know, he might easily have ascertained, that it had been 
 the practice of Sir Thomas for many years before it was necessary as a qualifica- 
 tion for civil office. If in his pamphlet he merely intended to refer to known 
 cases (if any there were) in which individuals had adopted the practice he con- 
 demns from the love of " preferment," there was no necessity to appeal to Howe 
 on the subject ; nor indeed to discuss it at all ; for such cases none would 
 defend. 
 
 In the same spirit, he had prefixed to his title-page the words, " If the Lord 
 
 be God, follow him ; but if Baal, : " evidently implying that it was not 
 
 possible there should exist a condition of conscience in which the practice of 
 occasional conformity was compatible with sincerity. These unworthy artifices 
 of the pamphleteer, Howe severely exposes ; as well as the illogical assumption, 
 on which De Foe's argument evidently rests ; namely, that all the nonconformists 
 seceded from the Church on the same grounds, and that each adopted to the 
 full every objection of the rest. This was notoriously untrue.
 
 232 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " A Letter to a Person of Honour, partly representing the Rise 
 of Occasional Conformity, and partly the Sense of the pre- 
 sent Nonconformists, about their yet continuing Differences 
 from the Established Church. 
 
 " My Lord, 
 
 " It is well known to such as have understood 
 the state of religion in this kingdom, since the beginning of 
 the Reformation, that there have been very different sentiments 
 about the degrees of that reformation itself. Some have judged 
 the Church with us so insufficiently reformed, as to want as yet 
 the very being of a true Christian church ; and wherewith 
 they, therefore, thought it unlawful to have any communion 
 at all. Of whom many thereupon, in the several successive 
 reigns, withdrew themselves into foreign parts, for the enjoy- 
 ment of the liberty of such worship as they judged more agree- 
 able to the word of God. 
 
 " There have been also no inconsiderable numbers, in former 
 and later times, that, though not entirely satisfied with our 
 reformation, were less severe in their judgment concerning the 
 constitution and practice of the Established Church ; that is, 
 did not judge its reformation so defective, that they might not 
 communicate at all with it, nor so complete but that they ought 
 to covet a communion more strictly agreeable to the Holy 
 Scripture; and, accordingly, apprehended themselves to lie 
 under a two-fold obligation of conscience in reference hereto. 
 
 "1. Not, by any means, totally to cut themselves off on the 
 one hand from the communion of the Established Church, in 
 which they found greater and more momentous things to be 
 approved of, and embraced with great reverence and com- 
 placency, (namely, all the true noble essentials of Christian 
 religion not subverted, as among the Romanists, by any 
 contrary doctrines or practices,) than could be pretended to 
 remain the matter of their disapprobation and dislike. 
 
 " 2. Nor, on the other hand, to decline other communion, 
 which to the judgment of their conscience appeared, in some 
 considerable circumstances, more agreeable to the Christian 
 rule, and, to their experience, more conducing to their spiritual 
 advantage and edification. 
 
 " Which latter judgment of theirs (whether itself justifiable 
 or no, we are not now considering) hath been with many so 
 fixed and inflexible, that, in several successive reigns, great 
 numbers of such persons, who, we had no reason to apprehend, 
 had any thought totally to abandon the Established Church,
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 233 
 
 yet thought themselves obliged, besides, to seek and procure 
 opportunities for such other communions, even with extreme 
 peril, not only to their estates and liberties, but to their very 
 lives themselves. 
 
 " They could not, therefore, but think both these sorts of 
 communions lawful, namely, whereto they might adjoin, but 
 not confine themselves. 
 
 " And though to that former sort of communion, there hath, 
 for many years by-past, been superadded the accidental con- 
 sideration of a place or office attainable hereby, no man can 
 allow himself to think, that what he before counted lawful, is 
 by this supervening consideration become unlawful especially 
 if the office were such as was in no manner of way to be an 
 emolument, but rather an occasion of greater expense to the 
 undertaker of it ; that is, only enabled him to serve God, the 
 government, and his country, being regularly called hereto, in 
 the condition of a justice of peace, or otherwise. In which 
 capacity, it is notorious that divers persons, of eminent note, of 
 this persuasion, (and some in higher stations,) have, within the 
 space of forty years past, and upwards, been serviceable to the 
 public in divers parts of the nation. 
 
 " It is not, indeed, to be thought, that the judgment and 
 practice of such men can be throughout approved by our 
 reverend fathers and brethren of the Established Church, as 
 neither can we pretend it to be so universally by ourselves. 
 But we are remote from any the least suspicion, that persons 
 of so excellent worth and Christian temper, as now preside 
 over the Established Church, can suffer themselves to judge or 
 censure men of this sentiment, as being for this single reason 
 men of hypocritical and insincere minds ; but that they will 
 rather think it possible their understandings may be imposed 
 upon, so as this may be the judgment, in the whole, of a 
 sincere though misinformed conscience. 
 
 "For when they apprehend this church, having all the 
 essential parts of Christian religion, has not, by adding some 
 much disputed things, that are not pretended to be any parts 
 thereof, (but that are become as necessary to communion with 
 it as any the most essential part,) thereby unchurched itself, 
 but that they may hold communion with it ; yet they do not 
 see that they ought to appropriate their communion to it, so 
 as to refuse all other communion, where the same essentials of 
 Christian religion are to be found, without those additions 
 which really belong not to it ; they are apt to think such senti-
 
 234 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 ments of theirs not to be altogether destitute of some plausible 
 ground. 
 
 "However, among those that are not entirely in every 
 punctilio of this church, it hath not any so firm friends, or 
 that are so nearly united in judgment and affection with it, as 
 men of this sentiment. 
 
 " We, for our parts, (who, because in some things we con- 
 form not, ai*e called nonconformists, whereas no man conforms 
 in everything,) are not allowed to be counted members of this 
 church, by those that take denominations, not from the inti- 
 mate essentials of things, (as sameness of doctrine, and the 
 institutions of Christian worship,) but from loose and very 
 separable accidents : yet, thanks be to God, we are not so 
 stupid as not to apprehend we are under stricter and much 
 more sacred obligations than can be carried under the sound 
 of a name, to adhere to those our reverend fathers and brethren 
 of the Established Church, who are most united among them- 
 selves, in duty to God and our Redeemer, in loyalty to our 
 sovereign, and in fidelity to the Protestant religion, as with 
 whom in this dubious state of things we are to run all hazards, 
 and to live and die together. Whether they can have the 
 same assurance, both from interest and inclination of mind, 
 concerning all that are of the same external denomination with 
 themselves, they need not us to advise with. 
 
 " We have our yet depending lesser differences, about which 
 we have (notwithstanding whatsoever provocation) been gene- 
 rally and for the most part silent ; and see not, in reference to 
 them, what can further remain, than that we, for our part, do 
 consider that all minds are not turned the same way; that 
 such from whom we dissent, no further 'differ from us than we 
 do from them ; and we are, therefore, no more to wonder at 
 them than ourselves. 
 
 " And we cannot disallow ourselves to hope, that our reverend 
 fathers and brethren will conceive of us as humbly dissenting 
 from them, without diminution of that great reverence which 
 their real worth claims from us, and without arrogating any- 
 thing unduly to ourselves on that account. For though we 
 cannot avoid thinking we are in the right, in those particular 
 things wherein we differ, yet, at the same time, we know our- 
 selves to be far excelled by them in much greater and more 
 important things. 
 
 " My honoured Lord, 
 " Your lordship's most obedient, humble Servant, 
 
 "J. H."
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 235 
 
 Hitherto the consciences of the nonconformists had been 
 always considered too strict ; their enemies finding that ' ' occa- 
 sional conformity" would enable those who could conscien- 
 tiously practise it, to qualify for a civil office, and thus evade 
 the law, now determined that they were too lax ; and therefore 
 introduced the bill against occasional conformity;* which 
 provided that, unless a man maintained constant communion 
 with the establishment, he should be utterly incapacitated 
 for holding any civil office. Had this measure become law, 
 the exclusive system would have been complete : but, after 
 having passed the House of Commons, it was rejected, by a 
 decisive majority, in the Lords. While the matter was pend- 
 ing, Howe exposed the absurdity of the bill, by an ingenious 
 hypothetical case, which will be found below. f 
 
 While the Bill against occasional conformity was still under 
 
 * 1702. 
 
 t A CASE. 
 
 " Two sorts of Christian assemblies are wont to meet, severally, for the 
 worship of God, which both hold all the same articles of doctrine taught by 
 Christ or his apostles ; and use the same institutions of worship appointed by 
 them : only they differ in this, that the one sort use also some rites, not so 
 appointed, which the other use not. 
 
 " Two gentlemen, Sir T and Sir J , are of equal estates : but Sir T 
 
 lives not so regularly, more seldom comes to the worship of God in any Christian 
 assembly ; yet, when he doth, resorts only to one of the former sort. 
 
 " Sir J is a sober, virtuous person, of approved piety, prudence, justice, 
 
 fortitude, and who publicly worships God, sometimes in the one sort of as- 
 sembly, and sometimes in the other. 
 
 " The question is not, whether some lewd and vicious persons may not frequent 
 both sorts of assemblies ; nor whether some sober and pious persons may not 
 frequent those of the former sort only. 
 
 " But whether Sir J ought to be rendered incapable of serving the govern- 
 ment (to which he hath constantly expressed himself well affected) in any station, 
 civil or military, for this single reason, because he sometimes worships God in 
 assemblies of the latter sort ; (whether it be his infelicity, ill humour, or mistake, 
 
 whereof yet he is not convinced ;) while Sir T (who is as little convinced of 
 
 his ill life) is left capable ? At least, if the one be incapable, should not both ? 
 
 " But if the question be determined the other way, monstrous ! How will 
 that determination of an English parliament stand in the annals of future 
 time ? How will wiser posterity blush they had such progenitors ! For can it 
 be supposed a nation will be always drunk ? Or if ever it be sober, will it not be 
 amazed there ever was a time, when a few ceremonies, of which the best thing 
 that ever was said was that they were indifferent, have enough in them to out- 
 weigh all religion, all morality, all intellectual endowments, natural or acquired, 
 which may happen in some instances to be on the wrong side, (as it must now 
 be reckoned,) when, on the other, is the height of profaneness, and scorn at 
 religion ; the depth of debauchery and brutality, with half a wit, hanging be- 
 tween sense and nonsense : only to cast the balance the more creditable way,
 
 236 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 discussion, the following characteristic incident occurred. As 
 Howe was one day walking in St. James's Park, a noble lord, 
 to whom he was well known, sent his footman to say that he 
 desired to speak with him. When he came up, his lordship 
 saluted him with much cordiality, and told him that he was 
 glad to see him. He then entered into conversation on the 
 obnoxious "Bill," which he assured Howe "he had opposed 
 to the utmost/' Gradually getting warm upon the subject, 
 he so far forgot his company as to say, "Damn these wretches, 
 for they are mad, and will bring us all into confusion/' Howe 
 calmly replied, " My Lord, it is a great satisfaction to us, who 
 in all affairs of this nature desire to look upwards, that there 
 is a God that governs the world, to whom we can leave the 
 issues and events of things : and we are satisfied and may 
 thereupon be easy, that he will not fail, in due time, of making 
 a suitable retribution to all, according to their present car- 
 riage. And this great Ruler of the world, my Lord, has 
 among other things also declared, he will make a difference 
 between him that sweareth, and him that feareth an oath." 
 His lordship was struck with Howe's reply, and after a pause 
 said, " Sir, I thank you for your freedom ; I understand your 
 meaning, I shall endeavour to make a good use of it." Howe 
 adroitly answered, " My Lord, I have a great deal more reason 
 to thank your lordship, for saving me the most difficult part of 
 a discourse, which is the application." 
 
 In 1702, Howe published the second part of his great work, 
 "The Living Temple." It is dedicated to William Lord 
 
 there is the skill to make a leg, to dance to a fiddle, nimbly to change gestures, 
 and give a loud response, which contain the answer for the villanies of an im- 
 pure life ! 
 
 "If those little pieces of church-modishness have so much in them of real 
 value, in all these are they not well enough paid by the whole Church revenues 
 of England, without stigmatizing everybody that so much admires them not ? 
 
 " And while divers of real worth live upon charity, some with difficulty get- 
 ting, others (educated to modesty) with greater difficulty begging their bread ! 
 
 " But do those who are not contented to engross all the legal emoluments, 
 think there is no God in heaven, that knows their large promises, at the 
 beginning of this revolution, of great abatements in their Church constitution ; 
 when now, without abating one hair, they must have all conform to it in every 
 punctilio, or be (as much as in them is) made infamous, and the scorn of the 
 nation ? "
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 237 
 
 Pagett, Baron of Beaudesert, in the county of Stafford.* In 
 this year, he also published a funeral sermon for the Rev. 
 Peter Yink. 
 
 In 1702 and 1703, Howe seems to have been in a very 
 shattered state of health, but had lost nothing of, his vigour 
 of mind. On the 5th of November of the latter year, he 
 preached a striking sermon, which was afterwards published, 
 from the words, " Who hath delivered us from the power of 
 darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear 
 Son." 
 
 I shall conclude this chapter with an exquisite letter of 
 condolence " on the loss of an excellent wife." It is preserved 
 in Calamy's Life; but it bears no date, nor can it now be 
 ascertained to whom it was addressed. The close is surpass- 
 ingly beautiful. 
 
 TO A FRIEND, ON THE LOSS OF AN EXCELLENT WIFE. 
 
 " L seriously lament your new affliction, whereof I lately had 
 the surprising account. And I should be the more concerned 
 for it, if I did not consider it hath befallen one who can with 
 judgment estimate and suffer it. He hath enough to relieve 
 him against the ungrateful events which our present state is 
 liable to, who is serious in the belief of God's universal govern- 
 ment over this world, and that there is another. The former 
 of these is a principle much abused by some ; which no more 
 proves it false than the gospel, out of which some have the 
 mischievous skill to extract a deadly savour. It is our great 
 privilege, for which we ought to be thankful, that by such 
 arguments whereby we can most certainly demonstrate to our- 
 selves that there is a God, we can as certainly prove that he is 
 not an Epicurean God ; unto which imaginary idol only that 
 could belong, ' to be disturbed by being concerned about human 
 affairs/ But if he knew the true nature of God better, who 
 came forth from him into our world, on purpose to make him 
 known, we are sufficiently assured, not a hair can fall from our 
 head without him, much less so considerable a part of our- 
 selves. 
 
 " This is not the state wherein things are to be unexcep- 
 
 * This nobleman was the seventh Baron Pagett, and succeeded to the title in 
 1678. He distinguished himself by a splendid embassy to Constantinople.
 
 238 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 tionably well. But we have cause, as things are, to acknow- 
 ledge and adore the wisdom and goodness of Providence, that 
 the wickedness of the world hath not in so many thousand 
 years quite confounded families, and all human society, long 
 ago : but that as wise counsel did first settle the institution of 
 those lesser societies, God hath from age to age renewed the 
 impression of that part among others of the law of nature, by 
 which men are prompted as by instinct to preserve them ; be- 
 sides the positive precept he hath given, setting out to each 
 relative the duty whereby order is to be preserved in them. 
 And when we know his government extends so low, how 
 gladly ought we to submit ourselves to it, and allow him to 
 determine how long we should enjoy such relatives, as well as 
 that there should be any such. For we know that they were 
 appointed but for this temporary estate, not for that wherein 
 we are to be as the angels of God in heaven, where each one 
 hath a subordinate self-sufficiency, and needs not the meet 
 helps which the exigency of this state makes so useful. And 
 therefore the reason, as well as the authority of such precepts, 
 is most entirely to be subscribed to, that because the time is 
 short, they that have wives be as though they had none ; they 
 that rejoice, (in having them,) as if they rejoiced not; they 
 that weep, (in losing them,) as though they wept not. So our 
 affections will correspond to the objects which are of the same 
 make ; for the fashion of this world passeth away. And it 
 were a gloomy thought to consider all as passing and vanish- 
 ing, if we did not seriously believe, that it vanishes to make 
 way for another, that shall never vanish, and that shall shortly 
 enter in its perfect glory, and fill up the whole stage. Scaf- 
 folds are taken down when the eternal building is finished."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 1704 TO 1705. 
 
 HOWE'S LAST ILLNESS STATE OP MIND DEATH EXTEACT FEOM HIS 
 WILL HIS PEBSON ANALYSIS OP HIS CHAEACTEE. 
 
 AT the close of 1704, it was obvious to his friends that Howe 
 was fast approaching the term of all his toils and sufferings. 
 His constitution had long been crumbling under a complication 
 of maladies ; and no new and violent form of disease was 
 necessary to complete the work of destruction. " The earthly 
 house of his tabernacle " was already tottering. 
 
 His decline was so slow, that, feeble as he was, he did not 
 entirely relinquish his public duties till a very short time before 
 his death. The peculiar circumstances under which these his 
 last services were performed, rendered them in the highest 
 degree solemn and imposing. His now intensely vivid per- 
 ceptions of Divine truth, and of approaching glory, imparted 
 such preternatural vigour to his mind, that he sometimes 
 seemed completely to triumph over all the infirmities of nature. 
 Once, in particular, at the communion, he was rapt into such 
 an ecstasy of joy and peace, that both himself and his audience 
 thought he would have died under the strength of his emotions. 
 It seemed as though, in that entranced and earnest gaze on the 
 already opening glories of the heavenly world, the struggling 
 spirit would have broken the feeble tie which was all that 
 bound it to earth and time. 
 
 In the spring of 1705, and only a very few weeks before his 
 death, he sent to the press the last thing he ever published ; 
 and nothing surely, under his present circumstances, could 
 have been more appropriate. It was entitled, " On Patience
 
 240 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 in Expectation of Future Blessedness ; " a virtue, alas ! which 
 few find it difficult to practise. The generality of Christians 
 bear the sentence of prolonged exclusion from heaven with 
 most exemplary endurance. With Howe the case was different ; 
 like the apostle, " he desired to depart, and to be with Christ/' 
 He was weary of a world of sorrow and of sin, and longed to 
 be at home and at rest. 
 
 His death, gradual in its approach, and long foreseen, was 
 such as might be expected from the character of his mind, and 
 the calm tenor of his life. He was a total stranger to the 
 raptures into which some have been transported in that hour, 
 and equally so to those alternations of light and darkness, of 
 hope and dread, which now raise the soul to the very gate of 
 heaven, and now fill it with despair. He was full of joy and 
 hope ; but it was joy and hope serene and unfaltering. This, 
 of all the states of mind in which the Christian can meet the 
 dying hour, is surely the most enviable ; the most satisfactory 
 to himself, and the most impressive to spectators. Such deep, 
 solemn tranquillity of soul at such a moment, is the surest 
 evidence of the reality of religious character, and best illus- 
 trates the power of religious truth. It can in no degree be 
 attributed to a fictitious source ; to the illusions of a perturbed 
 imagination, or to that morbid excitement which disease will 
 now and then impart to the intellect, and which resembles the 
 delirious splendour which it can sometimes kindle in the 
 eye. 
 
 Howe continued to receive the visits of his friends after he 
 was confined to his chamber ; and, as they frequently declared, 
 he addressed them more like one who was already an inhabit- 
 ant of the heavenly world, than as " a man of like passions 
 with themselves ; " rather as a messenger from the skies, than 
 as one who was just departing on his journey thither: so 
 stedfast, so assured was his hope, so full of tranquil certainty. 
 To him, indeed, the scenes he was about to visit could hardly 
 be said to be in a " strange land." They had become 
 familiarized by the vivid exercise of that faith which penetrates 
 the invisible and eternal world. Those visions of faith seemed 
 now brighter than ever. Like the Jewish legislator, he died
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 241 
 
 on Mount Nebo, with the glittering scenes of the -"better 
 country " spread out beneath his feet. 
 
 Amongst others who came to see him a short time before 
 his death, was Richard Cromwell, now, like himself, far ad- 
 vanced in years. He came to pay his old friend and servant 
 a visit of respect and of affectionate farewell. The interview, 
 if we may judge either from the character -of the men, or the 
 brief account which Calamy has given us of it, must have been 
 peculiarly affecting. He tells us, " There was a great deal 
 of serious discourse between them ; tears were freely shed on 
 both sides ; and the parting was very solemn, as I have been 
 informed by one that was present on the occasion." 
 
 That Howe was among the few who needed "patience in the 
 expectation of future blessedness/' is shown in the following 
 incident. He once told his wife, that " though he thought he 
 loved her as well as it was fit for one creature to love another ; 
 yet if it were put to his choice, whether to die that moment, 
 or to live that night, and the living that night would secure 
 the continuance of his life for seven years to come, he would 
 choose to die that moment/' 
 
 One morning, finding himself much better than could have 
 been expected after the severe sufferings of the preceding 
 evening, he became remarkably cheerful. One of his attend- 
 ants noticed it ;- upon which he made the characteristic reply, 
 that "he was for feeling that he was alive, though most willing 
 to die and lay the clog of mortality aside." 
 
 In those " considerations, and communings " with himself, 
 which he committed to paper just before he left Antrim, and 
 which have been already laid before the reader, he tells us that 
 he dreaded " sharp pains more than death." This was ex- 
 emplified in his last illness. His son, Dr. George Howe, a 
 physician, having, without apprising him of his intention, lanced 
 his father's leg (part of which was already gangrened), Howe 
 asked " what he was doing ; " saying at the same time, " I am 
 not afraid of dying, but I am afraid of pain." 
 
 It appears from a passage in Matthew Henry's MS. diary, 
 that such an amendment took place shortly before his dissolu- 
 tion, that, though his death had been long expected, hopes 
 
 B
 
 242 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 were again entertained of his recovery. On Thursday, March 
 the 29th, those hopes were finally abandoned ; and the follow- 
 ing Monday, April 2, 1 705, he expired without a struggle. 
 
 He was buried in the parish church of All Hallows, Bread- 
 street ; and his funeral sermon was preached on the following 
 Sabbath, by his beloved friend and coadjutor, Mr. John 
 Spademan. The text was, " But continue thou in the things 
 which thou hast learned, and hast been assured of, knowing of 
 whom thou hast learned them." * 
 
 I proceed to give a brief description of his person, and an 
 analysis of his character. 
 
 Howe's external appearance was such as served to exhibij^ 
 to the greatest advantage his rare intellectual and moral en- 
 dowments. His stature was lofty, his aspect commanding, and 
 his manner an impressive union of ease and dignity. His 
 countenance the expression of which is at once so sublime 
 and so lovely, so full both of majesty of thought and purity of 
 feeling is best understood by the portrait. It is (to use the 
 language of Gregory Nyssen in reference to Basil) /3Xeyit/m ro> 
 TOVW T% tywxfio evreivs/juevov, " a countenance attuned to har- 
 mony with the mind." 
 
 What Howe said of Bates (in the celebrated funeral sermon) 
 might be said with still greater truth of himself; that he was 
 " wrought ' Into meliore,' of better, or more accurately figured 
 and finer-turned clay." Calamy, who knew him well, tells us 
 
 * The commencement of his will (which has been preserved by Calamy, and, 
 as he truly remarks, is a noble confession of his faith) is as follows : 
 
 " I, John Howe, minister of the gospel of Christ, in serious consideration 
 (though, through God's mercy, in present health) of my frail and mortal state, 
 and cheerfully waiting (blessed be God) for a seasonable unfeared dissolution of 
 this my earthly tabernacle, and translation of the inhabitant spirit into the 
 merciful hands of the great God, Creator, Lord of heaven and earth, whom I 
 have taken to be my God, in and with his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, who 
 is also over all, GOD blessed for ever, and my dear and glorious Eedeemer and 
 LOED ; with and by the Holy Spirit of grace, my light, life, and joy ; relying 
 entirely and alone upon the free and rich mercy of the Father, vouchsafed on 
 the account of the most invaluable sacrifice and perfect righteousness of the 
 Son, applied unto me, according to the gospel covenant, by the Spirit, for the 
 pardon of the many seriously repented sins of a very faulty fruitless life, and 
 the acceptance of my person, with my sincere though weak desires and en- 
 deavours to do him service in this world, especially as my calling wherewith he 
 graciously honoured me, did more particularly require, in promoting the welfare 
 and salvation of the precious souls of men."
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 243 
 
 that, " as to his person, he was very tall and exceeding grace- 
 ful. He had a good presence, and a piercing, but pleasant eye; 
 and there was that in his looks and carriage, that discovered 
 that he had something within that was uncommonly great, and 
 tended to excite veneration." 
 
 If it were asked, what was the characteristic peculiarity of 
 Howe, we should probably not err in replying, that it consisted 
 in the complete absence of all ordinary peculiarities ; in that 
 exquisite harmony of all the faculties, which is the rarest and 
 yet the noblest perfection of our nature ; the harmony of a 
 mind, all whose powers are capacious, yet none out of propor- 
 tion to the rest. 
 
 The tendencies of Howe's mind, it is true, were all of the 
 noblest kind; to the abstract and subtle in the department of 
 reason ; to the lofty and sublime in that of imagination ; and 
 to the pure and elevated in that of sentiment : but all this, 
 though sufficient to invest his whole character with peculiar 
 majesty, did not prevent (as too often happens with exalted 
 genius) the development of the inferior faculties, or unfit him 
 for a graceful and punctual discharge of the practical duties of 
 life. The only perceptible difference in this point, between 
 him and others, was, that he sustained the ordinary relations of 
 life with unusual dignity. 
 
 Most of those characters which have won the admiration of 
 mankind, have been marked by a peculiar individuality, re- 
 sulting from the disproportionate, and, in some cases, enormous 
 development of some master-faculty. In Bacon, it is true, we 
 are dazzled by a constellation of almost all intellectual excellen- 
 cies; yet even in him, the philosophic temperament was so 
 prevailingly strong, as to throw into comparative shade his 
 other vast endowments ; endowments which, if they can be 
 considered secondary at all, are so only in him. In Edwards 
 we see the utmost logical acuteness; in Barrow, wonderful 
 comprehensiveness ; in Jeremy Taylor, the utmost opulence of 
 imagination ; in Milton, its utmost sublimity. In all these, and 
 many other minds, the glare of some overpowering faculty 
 makes the rest shine with feeble light, and, in some cases,
 
 244 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 nearly quenches them altogether. But from the calm firma- 
 ment of Howe's mind shine forth all the various faculties of 
 the soul, each with its allotted tribute of light, and with a 
 serene and solemn lustre. " One star," it is true, " differeth 
 from another star in glory ; " but none extinguish or eclipse 
 the rest. 
 
 That disproportionate development of some particular faculty, 
 which almost uniformly distinguishes great genius, is in general, 
 we must admit, far more desirable, in a world like this, than a 
 more harmonious adjustment of all its powers. By the min- 
 gling of the several elements of mental strength in different 
 proportions, that endless variety, which is so characteristic of 
 all the works of God, is kept up in the world of intellect ; just 
 as the ten thousand phenomena of the physical world all flow 
 from the infinitely diversified inter-action of a few elementary 
 principles. 
 
 None can doubt that, for a world like ours, such a conforma- 
 tion of mind is the most useful that can be imagined. Since 
 all progress depends upon a minute division of labour ; since 
 we must be contented with less than absolute excellence, even 
 when the whole powers of the mind are concentrated on a 
 single point, and unremittingly exerted there ; and since all 
 can be happy only by each pursuing a different path to happi- 
 ness ; how necessary was it that every facility should be 
 afforded for determining men's minds to different objects ! 
 This is effectually done by the prominence generally given to 
 some one faculty. * No sooner is the mind exposed to the 
 various influences of active life, than this faculty, like the 
 senses, finds an appropriate sphere of action provided for it. 
 
 If it be so rare to meet with a mind originally characterized 
 by that harmonious adjustment of all its powers, which we have 
 described as the peculiar excellence of John Howe ; still more 
 rare is it to meet with such a mind, when time has laid his 
 touch upon it. Some disturbing forces almost inevitably 
 destroy the equilibrium ; the influence of circumstances de- 
 termines its tastes and habits exclusively to some particular 
 pursuits. 
 
 But though an unequal distribution of the mental faculties is
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 245 
 
 necessary in a world like ours, and ordained for the wisest 
 purposes, it is not in itself a perfection. It is true that such 
 an exaggeration (if I may so speak) of some mental feature is 
 more likely to attract the attention of mankind. This, how- 
 ever, is owing to the limitation of our faculties. Men, in 
 general, are incapable of appreciating the more complicated 
 forms of mental beauty. While the most unpractised ear, 
 possessing any susceptibility for music at all, can enjoy some 
 simple melody, how much knowledge, taste, and sensibility 
 does it require, thoroughly to appreciate the complicated ex- 
 cellence of the compositions of a Handel or a Mozart, 
 
 " To untwist all the chains that tie 
 The hidden soul of harmony ! " 
 
 To this strange passion for mutilated beauty, the world 
 abundantly ministers, since, in the loveliest scenes of nature, 
 as well as the least imperfect specimens of intellect, we discern 
 only a few of the scattered elements of beauty and of excellence ; 
 some of the lineaments are sure to be wanting. 
 
 But, to a superior being, capable of admiring the higher and 
 more complicated forms of intellectual beauty, the overshadow- 
 ing greatness of some particular faculty probably appears an 
 imperfection ; he may look upon it just as we look upon the 
 remarkable exaggeration of some feature of the face as a real 
 deformity. The perfection of animal existence consists in the 
 acuteness of all the senses, not in the unusual perfection of one 
 to balance the defects of another. It is no adequate compensa- 
 tion to the deaf, that in general the eyesight of such is un- 
 usually penetrating. As man sustains such various relations 
 both to God, to himself, and to the universe, that conformation 
 of mind is the most perfect, which enables him to bring all his 
 faculties into play upon their appropriate objects, with equal 
 power and flexibility. 
 
 If it be so rare to meet with an individual whose mental 
 faculties are thus admirably adjusted, the probabilities are 
 greatly multiplied against our meeting them conjoined with the 
 far higher qualities of religious and moral excellence. Who 
 does not sigh over the frailties which, as they recur to the 
 mind, cast their dark shadows over the otherwise bright disk
 
 246 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of Bacon ; and trouble, ' ' as with a dim eclipse," the feelings of 
 pure delight with which we were hailing and rejoicing in his 
 beams ? And even when no deep stain rests upon the character, 
 how rarely has genius been adequately alive to the more 
 elevated species of moral greatness ! How often has it lived for 
 nothing better than selfish knowledge, or a still more selfish 
 reputation ! How seldom has it consecrated its endowments, 
 with a distinct feeling that this was its highest honour, to the 
 glory of God and to the welfare of man ! Yet, every now and 
 then, just to illustrate the power of God, to show how his 
 grace can ennoble our nature, to shame prostituted genius, to 
 " adorn the doctrine" of Christ by proving that the most 
 perfect specimens of humanity can count it their highest glory 
 to do homage to the gospel, there appears, upon our world, 
 some mind in which the various elements of excellence har- 
 moniously meet, and are wrought into an exquisite form of 
 beauty and of grandeur : a mind which, enjoying the happiest 
 conformation of the mental and moral powers of which our 
 imperfect and depraved nature is capable, and favoured with 
 all the advantages of finished cultivation and a long and various 
 discipline, is early subjected to the transforming and purifying 
 power of Divine grace, beneath whose expansive and benign 
 influences it is seen, even while on earth, almost "putting 
 off its mortality," and visibly ripening for the paradise of God. 
 Such a mind was that of Howe. 
 
 His intellect was one of the few which conjoined in almost 
 equal measure the highest attributes of the philosophical 
 character; it was equally comprehensive and acute, possessed 
 both of great range and great subtlety. These qualities can- 
 not fail to strike any reader of his more elaborate works. 
 
 In his "Living Temple," in which he pursues Atheism 
 through all the tortuous windings of its dark and subtle so- 
 phistry ; in his " Treatise on the Divine Prescience," in which 
 he has penetrated as far, perhaps, as ever was given to man, 
 into that dusky region which skirts the confines both of the 
 Calvinistic and Arminian systems; in his "Letters on the 
 Trinity," a subject on which it is one of the highest achievements 
 of a merely mortal mind not to fail, and to fail disgracefully,
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 247 
 
 the generality of those who have presumptuously attempted to 
 lift the veil from that great mystery, having been scathed and 
 blasted by the ineffable vision, in all these works, as well as 
 in many of his sermons, any one capable of appreciating John 
 Howe, will concede to him metaphysical acumen, little, if at 
 all, inferior to that of Locke; a power of continuous and 
 patient abstraction, and of searching, subtle analysis, which 
 leaves no part of a subject unexplored. Indeed, he sometimes 
 almost seems to accumulate difficulties, especially in the first 
 part of his discourses, for the mere pleasure of demolishing 
 them. 
 
 The judgment of Howe was such as might be expected from 
 such qualities of intellect ; and rendered yet more sound, by 
 the fact that his noble qualities of intellect were conjoined with 
 a moral temperament most enviably equable and serene. 
 
 In confirmation of the above remarks, it is sufficient to men- 
 tion the following facts : 
 
 His writings display a remarkable exemption from theologi- 
 cal paradox and extravagance of all kinds. There is hardly a 
 sentiment in the many volumes which he has left behind him, 
 which one would wish to blot out. 
 
 They display in an equal degree an abstinence from what is 
 the chief source of theological paradox, (especially to a bold 
 and excursive mind,) unhallowed and presumptuous specula- 
 tion. 
 
 His work on the " Trinity," the only publication in which 
 there is even an approach to this audacious style of specula- 
 tion, displays such a deep sense of the inexplicable mystery 
 and awful grandeur of the subject, so much modesty and 
 caution, such uncommon sobriety of mind, as effectually to 
 shield him from the charge of dogmatism or presumption. 
 Indeed, he seems to have written in the same cautious spirit 
 which afterwards dictated the immortal " Analogy " of Butler. 
 His principal aim appears to be, to show the too confident 
 Unitarian, as that of; the other was to show the too confident 
 Deist, " that it is not so a clear thing " (to use the quaint 
 language of Butler) " that there is nothing in it ; " and that 
 though (when the question is removed from the authoritative
 
 248 LITE OF 'JOHN HOWE. 
 
 ground of Scripture) the orthodox cannot pretend to demon' 
 strate that the doctrine of the Trinity is true, the heterodox 
 would find it equally impossible to prove it to be false. 
 
 To refrain from pushing speculation too far, especially when 
 such self-control is conjoined with that originality and inventive 
 power of genius, which would seem to promise success, (if 
 success be possible at all,) is in itself an indication of the 
 highest style of mind. It is the prerogative of great genius, 
 and of 1;hat alone, to know its limits ; to understand what 
 Locke calls " the length of its line," and to feel that there are 
 numberless " depths in the ocean which it cannot fathom." 
 Such men, by a sort of instinct, seem to discern the limitations 
 which the Supreme himself has put upon the human mind, and 
 which shut it in as between walls of adamant ; and seeing this, 
 they cease to exhaust their energies (bestowed for practically 
 useful purposes) in vainly beating against the bars of their 
 prison. 
 
 In his acute analysis of Kobert Hall's mind, Mr. Foster 
 mentions this same reverential silence on the subject of mys- 
 teries, as characteristic of that great man. While he ac- 
 quiesces in the wisdom of such silence, he seems, with the love 
 of speculation inseparable from a highly original and inventive 
 mind, almost to regret " that Mr. Hall did not allow himself 
 in some degree of exception." Mr. Foster's observations on 
 this subject form one of the most beautiful parts of that noble 
 piece of criticism. 
 
 Of the difference bet ween first and second rate minds, in this 
 point, there is an amusing instance in Boswell' s "Life 01 
 Johnson." I do not recollect to have ever seen the passage 
 cited to that end, and yet it is, in truth, the most exquisite 
 specimen of Boswellism in the book. Speaking of the sensi- 
 tiveness, or rather horror, with which Johnson avoided the 
 discussion of the subject of predestination, Boswell says, "He 
 avoided the question which has excruciated philosophers and 
 
 divines beyond any other He was confined by a 
 
 chain, which early imagination and long habit made him think 
 massy and strong, but which, had he ventured to try, he could 
 have snapt asunder." Boswell was incapable of seeing what
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 249 
 
 Johnson saw plainly enough, the insurmountable difficulties of 
 the question. Johnson evidently possessed, in a high degree, 
 the peculiarity of mind which I have attributed to Howe. No 
 one can read his celebrated " Review of Soame Jenyns on the 
 Origin of Evil," without being convinced of it. He could 
 demolish with ease the flimsy hypotheses which others have 
 constructed to solve that great mystery, but was too discreet 
 to construct one of his own. 
 
 This very uncommon sobriety of judgment (manifested 
 through life, and in every relation) is the more extraordinary, 
 when 'we consider the times in which Howe lived, and the 
 scenes in which he moved. He was one of Cromwell's chap- 
 lains, be it remembered. He lived in a period of unparalleled 
 excitement, and with those upon whom that excitement acted 
 most strongly; a time in which comparatively few quite 
 escaped the contagion of fanaticism. 
 
 Some obliquities of judgment, or some rash speculation, or 
 an enthusiastic mode of interpreting public events and the 
 designs of Providence, or (where there was none of these) 
 some extravagancies of manner, showed, almost everywhere, 
 how the temper of the times had destroyed the equipoise even 
 of the best-regulated minds. The lightest barque can keep 
 its way in calm weather ; but it must demand very uncommon 
 ballast to steady the vessel in times like those of the civil wars 
 and the Commonwealth. The majestic mind of Howe rode 
 out the storm. 
 
 Another proof of the judgment of Howe, as well as of that 
 harmony of mind of which I have so often spoken, was his 
 exemption from those eccentricities, as they are called, which 
 are so often associated with exalted genius, and which gene- 
 rally display themselves, either in a contempt for little things, 
 which are often of sufficient importance, however, to affect 
 seriously the convenience of others, or in some ludicrous 
 peculiarities of appearance or manner. These are sometimes 
 the effect of sincere negligence; and, perhaps, quite as fre- 
 quently of affectation. To be forgiven, in consideration of 
 the nobler qualities which they may obscure, but assuredly 
 cannot enhance, is the utmost that ought to be demanded for
 
 250 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 them. Yet, strange to say, they are often the objects of 
 admiring wonder, and even of sedulous imitation, to the fools 
 who imagine, that because genius is often eccentric, eccen- 
 tricities will establish a claim to genius. Now such eccen- 
 tricities are, at best, infirmities, and not excellences ; and in 
 proportion as a mind is more perfect, in that proportion will it 
 avoid them : it will not only think nothing beneath its atten- 
 tion which ought to be attended to, but be capable of adapt- 
 ing itself to the various demands of life, whether great or 
 little, with Protean facility. 
 
 The imagination of Howe was such as might be expected 
 from that harmonious and mutually subservient adjustment of 
 all the faculties of his mind, which I have represented as his 
 prime excellence. It was powerful and active, but not dis- 
 proportionately so ; lights up the page with a sober lustre, but 
 never dazzles the reader ; never seduces him into a forgetful- 
 ness of the argument. As regards the measure of its exercise, 
 , it is always under strict discipline. It is used, not abused ; 
 employed, as the imagination ought to be employed, to illus- 
 trate truth, not to overlay and encumber it with superfluous 
 ornament. But the uncommon novelty, as well as beauty and 
 grandeur of many of his illustrations, show, that of the two, 
 Howe rather restrained than tasked its energies. That it was 
 generally employed within such just limits, not in excess, 
 yet sufficiently, is principally to be attributed to his being 
 always engrossed with his subject. This absorption of mind 
 is sure to stimulate the imagination enough to make it supply 
 spontaneously those illustrations which will render a writer's 
 meaning either more clear or more impressive, but leaves 
 little leisure to search for curious or elaborate ornament, and 
 this is just the position which the imagination ought to 
 occupy. 
 
 The character of his imagination was in strict keeping with 
 the general complexion of his mind. It was sublime rather 
 than beautiful. Indeed, there are not a few passages in his writ- 
 ings, which would almost sustain comparison with some of the 
 finest passages of Milton's prose works. It is true that the 
 imagination of Howe does not possess the opulence and vast-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 251 
 
 ness of Milton's ; but it is also true that such qualities would 
 have disturbed that balance of all the mental faculties which 
 distinguished Howe, and which required that his reason and 
 his judgment should be as superior in vigour and accuracy to 
 those of Milton, as the imagination of the latter was superior 
 to that of the former. 
 
 Nor is it simply in the character of the imagination that 
 these two great minds resembled one another ; they resembled 
 one another in elevation generally. There is, however, this 
 remarkable difference between them. Howe's sublimity is 
 uniformly that of sentiment, never that of passion ; he is always 
 calm and self-possessed. In consequence, we never see in him 
 those bursts of impassioned feeling, with which the sublimest 
 exercises of Milton's imagination are sometimes accompanied ; 
 that Sensory?, as the Greeks were wont to term it, which is 
 perpetually flashing out in his prose writings. The heavenly 
 placidity, the habitual repose of Howe's mind, were quite in- 
 compatible with such a display of the combined energies of 
 intellect and passion; his spirit was "sphered" in too lofty 
 and serene a region for it. The clouds and tempests in which 
 the mighty spirit of Milton careered during the troubled 
 period of his political life, rolled far beneath Howe. Still, in 
 the loftiness of his conceptions, as well as occasionally in the 
 majestic rhythm, the stately and dignified march of his 
 sentences, the critical reader will detect no inconsiderable 
 resemblance to Milton. I could illustrate my meaning by 
 many noble passages from his " Living Temple ; " but I shall 
 content myself by referring to the celebrated description of 
 the " human soul in ruins ; " in which he pours forth his sub- 
 lime, but melancholy musings, amidst the still magnificent 
 remains of that once glorious dwelling of Deity. 
 
 Few men, however, possessed of so fine an imagination, 
 have exhibited it to so little advantage. I do not speak 
 merely of the mean and unseemly attire in which he has often 
 clothed his noble conceptions : to this I shall advert presently. 
 I now refer to the incongruities of thought, which so often 
 impair the beauty of his finest illustrations, to his broken 
 metaphors, and his trivial allusions. Seldom has there been a
 
 252 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 criticism more just than that of Eobert Hall that " there was 
 in Howe an innate inaptitude for discerning minute graces 
 and proprieties." It is true that we sometimes meet with an 
 image, not only surpassingly sublime and beautiful, but nobly 
 sustained throughout. This, however, is comparatively rare. 
 Such are his defects of taste, that his writings present us with 
 few, if any passages of considerable length, that are not sadly 
 enfeebled by the want of keeping and harmony. 
 
 These faults are aggravated by the extreme poverty of his 
 diction, and ruggedness of his style. Such limited powers of 
 expression, indeed, have seldom, if ever, been associated with 
 so much opulence and grandeur of intellect. He not only 
 dispenses with every elegance, but often degrades the noblest 
 thoughts by the meanest phraseology. 
 
 The defects of which I am now speaking I mean of diction 
 and of style affect, of course, not merely the exercises of his 
 imagination, but those of his intellect generally. It may be 
 said of all his conceptions, that they seldom have justice done 
 them. The soil of his mind was abundantly fertile, and poured 
 forth its productions with all the wealth and spontaneity of 
 nature, but with all her negligence and wildness too. Slight 
 indeed are the traces of cultivation. He constantly writes 
 with the air of a man who has much to say, but is nearly 
 indifferent as to how it is said. His thoughts and illustrations, 
 generally, are clothed in attire so coarse and mean, that, if a 
 certain innate grandeur and majesty did not proclaim their 
 origin, we should never suspect them to belong to the rank 
 and family of genius. 
 
 The toils of revision, on which elaborate excellence always 
 depends, were generally neglected by the writers of that day ; 
 but Howe, it must be confessed, must have been far more 
 negligent than were some of his contemporaries. 
 
 But though his power, generally, is greatly impaired by his 
 gross deficiencies of taste and expression, it is his imagination 
 which suffers most from them. This, indeed, must always be 
 the case, as the imagination, more than any other mental 
 faculty, depends for producing its due effect on the graces of 
 language. A poverty of expression, a ruggedness of style,
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 253 
 
 which might be borne in pure argument, may almost ruin the 
 effect of poetical illustration. 
 
 With respect to diction, Howe's defects may be attributed in 
 great part, no doubt, to negligence, but, I think, in still 
 greater measure, to his very limited command of language. 
 Thus, though we may often find solitary expressions singularly 
 beautiful and original, he never sustains this excellence of 
 diction beyond a minute or two. He almost immediately falls 
 back into his ordinary baldness of phraseology. 
 
 If we pass from his diction to the structure of his composi- 
 tion, we find faults equally glaring. He is almost universally 
 rugged and unmusical; full of involution, parenthesis, and 
 awkward transposition. What was said of his diction may be 
 said of his style. Though we occasionally meet with sentences 
 full of majesty and rhythm, they scarcely ever extend beyond 
 a short paragraph. His excellencies seem happy accidents ; 
 his faults and negligences are systematic and habitual. 
 
 As though the above defects of style were not sufficient, he 
 has adopted a mode of punctuation as absurd as can possibly be 
 conceived, and for which, so far as I at this moment can recol- 
 lect, he had no adequate apology in the fashions of the age. 
 He actually often comes to a -full stop in the very career of his 
 sentences, and fairly throws the luckless reader who is not ac- 
 quainted with this vice of the author. In numberless instances, 
 he has divided one complete sentence into not less than three or 
 four periods. It is a great pity that the editors, even the modern 
 editors, of Howe's writings have, in a great many cases, fol- 
 lowed but too faithfully this eccentric system of punctuation. 
 A complete revision, in this respect, would have rendered his 
 writings abundantly more perspicuous, and tended greatly to 
 abate that disgust which often besets the reader who for the 
 first time sits down to their perusal. 
 
 On the whole, it may be said that very few writers have 
 been less indebted for their reputation to language or style, 
 than John Howe; if, indeed, we might not rather say, that 
 his deficiencies in these respects have seriously lessened and 
 impaired it ; and that he has attained his present eminence not 
 only without the aid, but in spite of the want, of such auxiliaries.
 
 254 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 In these respects Howe presents a striking contrast to 
 another of his great contemporaries : I mean Bates. I cannot 
 but think that excellent man is mainly (I am far from saying 
 wholly) indebted for his considerable reputation to the studied 
 prettinesses of his style and diction. These, I regret to say, 
 often appear so artificial, that the reader cannot help suspecting 
 he is trying to sparkle. He is perpetually displaying the rings 
 on his fingers. At the same time, it must be confessed, that 
 his style is distinguished by great elegance and polish, when 
 compared with that of Howe, or even of his contemporaries 
 generally. 
 
 Unless the modern reader be fairly forewarned of the defects 
 of style and manner which characterize not only the writings 
 of John Howe, but those of many of his great contemporaries, 
 he will be likely to turn away from them with disgust ; and 
 even if he be so forewarned, must expect to relish them only 
 after repeated perusal. He must learn to look at what is sub- 
 lime and beautiful in thought itself, abstracted from the forms 
 of elegance and beauty in which he has often seen them em- 
 bodied. Many have been so little accustomed to this effort of 
 mind, have been so long habituated to look on the metal only 
 after it has passed through the refining fires of the furnace, 
 that they cannot admire the veins of precious ore which enrich 
 the pages of our author. 
 
 And even those who do peruse his writings are liable, for 
 want of such an attempt to rectify their judgment, to under- 
 rate most grossly his intellectual greatness. They understand 
 him, it is true ; but half the grandeur and beauty of his con- 
 ceptions is lost upon them.* 
 
 * There seems something so paradoxical in the view here presented, not indeed 
 of the inferiority of Howe's powers as a writer to his powers as a thinker, (for 
 that must be obvious to every intelligent reader,) but in the degree in which it 
 is here alleged to exist, that some might be disposed to demur to the strong 
 language I have used. It certainly does seem strange, that one to whom such 
 opulence and splendour of imagination are ascribed, should have wielded the 
 great instrument of language with so little power, flexibility, and grace. I feel 
 inclined, therefore, to fortify my own criticisms, by citing, though not for this 
 reason only, the judgment of one who, in the little circle in which he was known 
 now, alas ! growing every day less and less was justly regarded as no slight 
 authority. I allude to my beloved friend, J. M. Mackenzie, M.A., whose sudden 
 death, encountered so heroically in the wreck of the Pegasus, off the coast of
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOW*!. 255 
 
 That Howe was not totally destitute of wit, sufficiently 
 appears from some instances of it recorded in the present 
 volume, as well as from a few passages in his writings. It 
 deserves to be considered, however, as the least conspicuous 
 feature in his intellectual character. 
 
 Northumberland, nearly twenty years ago, excited a thrill of sympathy and 
 admiration throughout the kingdom. His talents were of the most varied and 
 brilliant order, and his knowledge more accurate and extensive than I almost 
 ever saw in any one man. His versatility was such, that it enabled him to 
 master almost everything to which he chose to apply himself ; and his pro- 
 digious memory, which I never saw equalled, except in the case of the late 
 lamented Lord Macaulay, and not surpassed even in him, enabled him to retain 
 all he acquired. To knowledge, extensive and profound, of classical literature, 
 he added an equally extensive and profound acquaintance with every depart- 
 ment of our own. His critical judgment and acumen were such as to entitle 
 any opinion of his to much weight. Among some fragmentary shorthand notes 
 of his on a few of our English preachers, which lately fell into my hands, I find 
 the following remarks on John Howe, in which he expresses, as strongly as I 
 have done, the singular contrast between Howe's noble intellectual endowments 
 and their inadequate exhibition in his works. I have pleasure in citing these 
 remarks, not only for their own sake, but as it gives me the opportunity of thus 
 honouring the memory of one who well deserves not to be forgotten. 
 
 " John Howe is, indeed, clarum et venerabile nomen, and his substantial 
 excellence both of character and genius is of the very highest order. His 
 intellect was in a most uncommon degree sound, penetrating, and comprehen- 
 sive ; his imagination was really magnificent ; he had wit and learning in 
 abundance ; his theology was profoundly evangelical, and his piety as seraphic, 
 perhaps, as that of any saint since the days of the apostles. All these qualities, 
 of which I have given anything but an exaggerated description, tended to fit him 
 for extraordinary effectiveness as a preacher ; but, so far as the intellectual 
 powers are concerned, success in preaching depends quite as much, perhaps 
 more, upon what Sir James Mackintosh calls the secondary faculties of the 
 mind, as upon the primary. And in these Howe was singularly deficient. He 
 thought distinctly and methodically ; but he wrote without any of that easy 
 and perspicuous order for which the best French preachers are remarkable. 
 He indulged to excess, like most of his age, in divisions and subdivisions ; 
 and even his sentences are generally as ill-constructed as total carelessness 
 can make them. His diction is frequently poor, harsh, and clumsy, in a 
 high degree ; so that nothing but the transcendent vigour of his thoughts 
 and sublimity of his imagination redeem his writings from being positively 
 repulsive. A few exceptions to this last remark occur throughout his works, 
 in which by some accidental felicity, the idea seems to have clothed itself 
 in exquisitely beautiful language. The chief faults of his sermons are com- 
 prised in those already noticed ; to which I must add, that he not unfre- 
 quently indulges in speculative discussions much too abstruse to be generally 
 edifying to a promiscuous congregation. Still, the intrinsic merits of his mind 
 and character were such, that he was a very acceptable preacher in his own day ; 
 and those who attentively study his works, will find them rich beyond descrip- 
 tion, in sound sense, conclusive reasoning, deep sentiment, just exposition 
 of Scripture, pathetic appeals to conscience, and imagery of a most sublime 
 kind. He was one of the many writers of his day who studied Plato and the 
 Alexandrian school with, perhaps, too fond a partiality ; but very many of his 
 most beautiful illustrations are either drawn direct from these writers or strongly 
 tinctured by their phraseology."
 
 256 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 The severe rebukes which occasionally, and after much pro- 
 vocation, he could administer to extreme malignity and folly, 
 would serve to show that he could have employed sarcasm with 
 considerable effect ; and that the almost perfect freedom from 
 everything of the kind by which his controversial writings are 
 so honourably distinguished from those of his age in general, is 
 to be attributed, not to a want of power, but to the absence of 
 will. 
 
 Calamy tells us, that in ordinary conversation he was " many 
 times very pleasant and facetious." One or two instances of 
 his " pleasantry," in addition to those which have been men- 
 tioned in the course of the narrative, will not be unacceptable 
 to the reader. They afford, at the same time, fine illustrations 
 of his judicious mode of administering reproof. 
 
 One day, when he was dining in company with persons of 
 note, a gentleman at table thought proper to expatiate at great 
 length on the merits of Charles I. Howe, observing that 
 he frequently indulged in profane oaths, quietly remarked, 
 " That in his enumeration of the excellencies of the prince he 
 had undertaken to panegyrize, he had totally omitted one, 
 which had been universally and justly ascribed to him." The 
 gentleman was delighted to find Mr. Howe a witness in favour 
 of the prince he had so much praised, and " was quite impatient 
 to know what was the excellence which had escaped him." 
 Howe suffered him to press for the information a little, and 
 then told him, that " Charles was never known to utter an oath 
 in his common conversation." It is pleasing to add, that the 
 gentleman bore the reproof well, and promised to abandon the 
 habit for the future. 
 
 At another time, as he was walking along the street, he came 
 up to two persons of rank, who were engaged in a very angry 
 dispute with one another. As he passed them, he heard them 
 " damn " each other in a most vehement manner. On this, 
 Howe taking off his hat, and bowing to them with great 
 courtesy, said, "I pray God save you both." They were so 
 struck with this salutation, that they forgot their anger, and 
 joined in thanking him. 
 
 As a, preacher, whether we judge from the discourses he has
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 257 
 
 left behind him, or from the testimony of his contemporaries, 
 Howe must have possessed very considerable powers. Still, 
 the impression he produced is to be attributed, I apprehend, 
 principally, to the intrinsic excellence of his matter, (equally 
 valuable whether presented in books or sermons,) and to the 
 earnestness, solemnity, and majesty of his manner. 
 
 The distinguishing characteristics of his genius were cer- 
 tainly not such as promise great oratorical excellence. Con- 
 sidered in this point of view, his principal defects are obvious.. 
 He was evidently too philosophical ; too fond of metaphysical 
 discussion, of refinement and subtlety. Often must his audience 
 have been wearied out by the long trains of reasoning, and the 
 abstruse speculations, in which he took so much delight. 
 That this was the case, we may safely conclude from the fact, 
 that, (though, for obvious reasons, such a disquisitory style is 
 far more tolerable in a treatise than in a sermon,) even his 
 readers often have cause to complain of the above peculiari- 
 ties. 
 
 These peculiarities have, most undoubtedly, rendered some, 
 of the finest pieces of Howe less popular than they would have 
 been, and, so far, less useful. The reader is apt to be wearied 
 with so much preliminary skirmishing. Calamy tells us, that 
 the same peculiarity marked his usual style of preaching ; the 
 first part of his sermons generally displaying great depth and 
 reach of thought. They usually closed, however, in a strain 
 level to the comprehension of the meanest, and with an earnest- - 
 ness and pathos in the application calculated to produce the 
 deepest impression. Mr. Foster has remarked, that the very 
 same peculiarities often distinguish Mr. Hall's sermons; nor is 
 this the only point in which Howe and Hall resembled one 
 another. 
 
 I have heard of a good woman who, having read some of 
 Howe's pieces, showed her displeasure at the above-mentioned 
 defects of method, by saying, that " lie was so long laying the* 
 cloth, that she always despaired of the dinner." 
 
 From the mere faults which had their origin in the barbarous 
 taste and uncouth fashions of the age, Howe was for the most 
 part free. No one can charge him with an ostentatious display.
 
 258 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of his learning, or with an idle and pedantic introduction of 
 scraps of Greek and Latin. Neither does he often indulge in 
 the quaint conceits or the coarse and ridiculous allusions, which 
 in that age were so general. The sobriety of his mind, and 
 his strong sense of propriety, equally concurred to preserve 
 him from such follies as these. 
 
 In one fault of the age, however, (as Eobert Hall justly re- 
 marks,) he far outwent many of his most extravagant con- 
 temporaries I mean, in minute and frivolous subdivision. We 
 have sometimes heads, arranged rank and file, four or five deep. 
 
 It is astonishing that such a man as Howe, or indeed, that 
 men every way inferior to him, should not have perceived the 
 utterly unphilosophical character of all such divisions. To 
 affix numbers to the few leading topics of a discourse, (and 
 these must of necessity be few,) is all very well. It serves to 
 indicate the great line of thought on which the speaker intends 
 to march, and thus to assist the memory of the hearer. But if 
 that division becomes intricate if it consists of several sets of 
 figures, a more successful expedient for thoroughly and hope- 
 lessly bewildering the mind can hardly be devised. 
 
 If any would wish to see the full extent to which Howe 
 carried this fault, they may look into the "Scheme" (a very 
 accurate one) which his publishers prefixed to the first edition 
 of the " Delighting in God." By the time the student has 
 thoroughly digested that, he will find little difficulty, I appre- 
 hend, in mastering any theorem in the first six books of 
 Euclid. 
 
 Though Howe's genius was not peculiarly adapted for oratory, 
 the talents he did possess were diligently and successfully 
 cultivated. The ministry of the gospel was not only his duty, 
 but his delight ; and he spared no efforts which might enable 
 him to discharge it with success. Calamy tells us, " his 
 ministerial qualifications were singular. He could preach off- 
 hand with as great exactness, as many others upon the closest 
 study. He delivered his sermons without notes, though he 
 did not impose that method upon others." I may remark, 
 that all contemporaneous accounts represent his preaching as 
 deeply impressive.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 259 
 
 As a controvertist, the extracts from his reply to Stillingfleet, 
 and other writings, already laid before the reader, show what 
 his spirit was, better than any attempt of mine could do. Not 
 only is his temper amiable, not only does he abstain from all 
 sarcasm and invective; but be is equally distinguished by his 
 candour and fairness qualities which resulted scarcely less 
 from the severely logical character of his understanding than 
 from the operation of Christian principles. To him, victory 
 was nothing ; truth, everything. Thus, we never detect him 
 in any mean subterfuge or shuffling evasion. His adversaries' 
 arguments he strenuously endeavours not only to understand, 
 but to exhibit in a fair and honest light. Indeed, if we except 
 Locke and Jonathan Edwards, I do not think a more upright 
 or single-minded controvertist is to be found. 
 
 As a theologian, the soundness of his judgment has already 
 been adverted to, when speaking of certain intellectual peculi- 
 arities. So sober, so rational, and so comprehensive are his 
 views of revealed truth, that, if it were right to take any mere 
 mortal as a guide, it would be difficult to name one who would 
 so seldom lead us astray. Not that his theological writings are 
 devoid of originality ; far from it ; but it is the originality of 
 a soundly philosophical mind, which never needs take refuge 
 in dazzling paradox, or in mere novelty and extravagance of 
 conception. His originality is shown, rather in presenting 
 known truths under new and striking aspects in pointing out 
 the mutual connexion and harmony between them or in 
 ascending by analogical reasoning (often of an exceedingly 
 felicitous character) from admitted truths, to sober and war- 
 ranted conjecture respecting such as are uncertain. He is 
 especially happy in pointing out the relations which the several 
 parts of the Divine economy of the gospel bear to one another ; 
 their harmony as a system ; and the manner in which, con- 
 sidered as a piece of complex moral machinery, they conspire 
 to effect the great object to which they are subservient, an 
 entire moral transformation of the spirit of man. 
 
 In such disquisitions as these, he often turns to a good use 
 his extensive acquaintance with ancient philosophy ; especially 
 the sublime speculations of his great favourite, Plato. Not
 
 260 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 that such speculations at all depraved his views of Christianity : 
 they have, it is true, tinctured his habits of thought and ex- 
 pression, but they have done nothing more. The system he 
 expounds is Christianity simple Christianity still. When he 
 availed himself of ancient philosophy, (to use the striking 
 language of Spademan in his funeral sermon,) " he took care 
 to wash the vessel, that it might be receptive of Divine com- 
 munications." 
 
 But though Howe is quite at home in the profoundest specu- 
 lations of theology, he seldom long loses sight of the elementary 
 principles of the gospel. On these he best loves to expatiate, 
 and to these he perpetually returns. Even in those pieces 
 which were intended more particularly for the initiated for 
 those who had already crossed the threshold of the temple, he 
 never fails to remind them of the terms on which they first 
 sought and found admittance, and to inculcate, as the indis- 
 pensable condition of all progress in the Divine life, an habitual 
 recollection of the cardinal doctrines of the gospel. *I scarcely 
 know any discourse of his, however circumscribed the topic of 
 which it treats, or however special the occasion which produced 
 it, which does not contain a full, clear, distinct recognition of 
 those fundamental principles on which rests the whole super- 
 structure of evangelical truth. 
 
 It is necessary only to observe further, the singularly practical 
 character of all Howe's theology. Even the most abstruse 
 speculations, he manages somehow or other to imbue with this 
 quality.* It is evident, indeed, that he habitually considered 
 the knowledge of religious truth as totally worthless, if not 
 subservient to holiness and virtue. " He did not look upon 
 religion/' says Calamy, with a felicity very unusual with him, 
 " as a system of opinions or a set of forms, so much as a 
 Divine discipline, to reform the heart and life." But on this 
 topic I have already touched in the Introductory Chapter. 
 
 I have already had occasion to remark, that Howe possessed, 
 in an unusual degree, the talents appropriated to active life. 
 His genius was as eminently practical as it was contemplative. 
 
 * See, particularly, the first part of his " Living Temple."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 261 
 
 It is here that many of the greatest minds have totally 
 failed, either from some incurable defect in the mental con- 
 formation, or from long and exclusive devotion to abstract 
 pursuits. There is either an excessive refinement of intellect, 
 which produces an inaptitude for the less exact reasonings 
 of practical life ; or a sensitiveness of taste, which shrinks 
 from contact with the vulgar ; or a timidity and bashfulness, 
 which recoil from the arduous conflict with human selfish- 
 ness; or an impetuosity of character, which will consult no 
 prejudices and brook no control. Thus unfitted for the world, 
 and soon disgusted with it, they sigh for the luxuries of a 
 studious solitude. 
 
 Howe well knew what it was to relish them too ; the ten- 
 dencies of his mind were towards the most elevated pleasures 
 of intellect. His countenance proclaims it : and doubtless it 
 was often with feelings which nothing but a paramount sense 
 of duty enabled him to conquer, that he tore himself away 
 from a life of delightful contemplation or of retired usefulness, 
 to mingle with a turbulent and a selfish world. Yet when he 
 did so, he was fitted for his task. Of prudence, he himself 
 used to say, that " he was so far from doubting whether it was 
 a virtue, that he counted imprudence to be a great vice and 
 immorality." Of the consummate ability with which he must 
 have conducted himself, no other proof is needed than the 
 statement of the following facts ; that he was often employed 
 in the most delicate affairs by Cromwell, yet without incurring 
 either blame or suspicion, without displaying vanity or covet- 
 ing power, without abandoning his trust or compromising his 
 principles ; well pleased to be employed, when his efforts might 
 be useful, still better pleased not to be employed at all ; that, 
 though exposed to the scrutinizing eyes of a baffled party, and 
 not always agreeing with his own, (and when not agreeing, 
 boldly saying so,) he left not a rivet of his armour open to the 
 shafts either of malice or of envy; that though sometimes 
 imperatively urged to reprove even the most powerful and the 
 most honoured, such was the weight of his character, such the 
 esteem of his wisdom, and such the mingled dignity and 
 prudence of his manners, that he could awe Cromwell into
 
 262 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 silence, and move Tillotson to tears ; and lastly, that he never 
 made an enemy, and never lost a friend. 
 
 Let it be recollected that all this was unaccompanied by the 
 slightest compromise of principle. This alone shows a rare 
 assemblage of peculiar excellencies. His prudence was ever con- 
 joined with integrity, the " wisdom of the serpent with the 
 harmlessness of the dove." 
 
 When we consider this rare union of qualities, the rectitude 
 which no sinister influence could warp, and the calm prudence 
 which ever governed his actions, we need not wonder at what 
 Calamy tells us, that Howe was often consulted in the most 
 perplexing cases of casuistry. He was truly qualified to be a 
 " ductor dubitantium." 
 
 When we turn from the province of intellect to that of senti- 
 ment and passion, we still find the same singular harmony and 
 proportion. It was not with Howe as with many great men. 
 Neither love of abstract science, nor unusual solidity of judg- 
 ment, was incompatible with the warmest sensibility. This 
 was as vivid as his intellect was strong. Both deficiency and 
 excess of feeling, though not in equal degree destructive to 
 repose of mind, imply an equal departure from the perfection 
 of our nature. Howe was characterized by neither ; his mind 
 dwelt remote both from that tropical region of the passions, 
 in which the soul is alternately scorched by heat and wrapped 
 in tempests, and from that frigid zone, in which the sun of in- 
 tellect may shine brightly, indeed, but like that of winter 
 with a cold and powerless gleam, and over regions of perpetual 
 snow. In a word, the sensibilities of Howe were such as they 
 ought to be, and what humanity need never be ashamed of ; ' 
 and where they ought to be, under the dominion of reason, 
 itself purified by religion. Hear the just and beautiful lan- 
 guage in which he himself denounces the absurd philosophy of 
 those who pretend that the perfection of our nature consists in 
 the extinction of the passions. The passage closes with an 
 image of surpassing magnificence. 
 
 It is "right that we endeavour for a calm indifferency and dis- 
 passionate temper of mind to wards the various objects and affairs 
 that belong to this present life. There are very narrow limits
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 263 
 
 already set, by the nature of the things themselves, to all the 
 real objects and value that such things have in them ; and it is 
 the part of wisdom and justice to set the proportionable bounds 
 to all the thoughts, cares, and passions, we will suffer to stir 
 in our minds in reference to them. Nothing is a more evident 
 acknowledged character of a fool, than upon every slight oc- 
 casion to be in a transport. To be much taken with empty 
 things betokens an empty spirit. It is a part of manly forti- 
 tude to have a soul so fenced against foreign impressions, as 
 little to be moved with things that have little in them : to 
 keep our passions under a strict and steady command, that 
 they be easily retractable and taught to obey ; not to move till 
 severe reason have audited the matter, and pronounced the 
 occasion just and valuable : in which case, the same manly 
 temper will not refuse to admit a proportionable stamp and im- 
 press from the occurring object. For it is equally a prevarication 
 from true manhood, to be moved with everything and with no- 
 thing : tlie former would speak a man's spirit a feather, the latter 
 a stone. A total apathy and insensibleness of external occurrents 
 hath been the aim of some, but never the attainment of the highest 
 pretenders. And if it had, yet ought it not to have been their 
 boast ; as, upon sober thoughts, it cannot be reckoned a perfection. 
 But it should be endeavoured, that the passions, which are not to 
 be rooted up (because they are of nature's planting) be yet so 
 discreetly checked and depressed, that they grow not to that enor- 
 mous tallness as to overtop a man's intellectual power, and cast 
 a dark shadow over his soul." 
 
 Of the manner in which he exemplified these just and 
 beautiful sentiments, we have abundant proof in many im- 
 pressive incidents of his life, and in the general strain of his 
 writings. 
 
 It is a delightful spectacle to see great genius (dignified and 
 elevated by extensive attainments) capable of unbending itself ; 
 of exhibiting all the charities of life ; and vindicating its con- 
 nexion with our common nature by a vivid exercise of those 
 sympathies which are as endearing as they are universal. 
 Such traits are the more pleasing from the contrast in which 
 they stand to qualities of a more lofty character. Discovered
 
 264 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 in such, men as Howe, they impress us with the same kind 
 of emotion which travellers tell us they have felt when they 
 have suddenly come upon some sheltered spot of fertility and 
 gentle beauty, blooming amidst the grandeur and sublimity 
 of Alpine solitudes. Those who thus conjoin the lofty and 
 the amiable, humbly imitate him who softens ineffable majesty 
 with ineffable condescension ; and that Great Example, in 
 whom dwelt not only " all the fulness of the Godhead," but 
 all the fulness of humanity. 
 
 It is true, that the expression of feeling is, in Howe, tem- 
 pered by that severe judgment and that habitual dignity, 
 which so eminently distinguished him. He is never, by any 
 possibility, transported into extravagance or enthusiasm if, 
 by the last word, be meant what it is so frequently employed 
 to denote a manifestation of feeling disproportioned to the 
 occasion. This self-control, however, renders indulgence of 
 feeling (when it does occur) the more impressive, because we 
 may be sure both that it is genuine, and that the importance 
 of the occasion demands it. If the surface of Howe's mind 
 was ordinarily unruffled, it was only an indication that the 
 channel of its feelings was the deeper. That he was suscep- 
 tible of the strongest feeling, and could express it with the 
 deepest pathos, is proved by some exquisite letters of conso- 
 lation which he has left behind him more especially that to 
 Lady Russell, shortly after the execution of her noble husband; 
 by innumerable passages of the most touching expostulation 
 scattered through his works; and by that deep and most 
 heavenly compassion with which he often pours out his soul 
 over the miseries of fallen and guilty man. 
 
 The letter to Lady Russell (which was not only private but 
 anonymous, and therefore never intended to be known as his) 
 is worthy of universal perusal. It was prompted by reports 
 that the noble lady to whom it was addressed was in danger 
 " of being swallowed up by over-much sorrow/' Excessive 
 grief had already begun upon her that petrifactive process 
 which sometimes completely seals up the fountain of the affec- 
 tions and sensibilities. Even the consolations of religion, it 
 was said, had partially lost their influence upon her. " She
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 265 
 
 had gone to the sepulchre to weep there/' and, like her of 
 whom these words were written, she was in danger of forget- 
 ting " him who is the Resurrection and the Life." 
 
 With what gentleness, with what paternal tenderness, does 
 Howe chide her excessive sorrow, while his accents, so to 
 speak, seem to falter beneath the weight of his own emotions ! 
 What a spirit of purest, deepest sympathy, animates the con- 
 solatory truths which he so beautifully touches ! How infi- 
 nitely removed is his manner from the formality of professional 
 condolence ! And with what affecting pathos does he assure 
 her, at the close, that he scarcely ever bent the knee "at the 
 mercy-seat " without remembering her sorrows there ! 
 
 But it is in the profoundly pathetic expostulations with 
 which he often mourns and chides the madness and the guilt 
 of men, that his soul reveals the depths of its sensibilities. 
 Like Paul, he tells them, even weeping, that they are the 
 enemies of the cross of Christ. Nothing can exceed the 
 mingled dignity and tenderness which often distinguished his 
 appeals : and hard must be that heart, which is not somewhat 
 overawed by a majesty of manner so peculiar and impressive, 
 and softened by a compassion so disinterested and so pure. 
 
 Illustrations of the above remarks, the reader will find in 
 many portions of the " Living Temple," and in the " Re- 
 deemer's Tears, wept over Lost Souls;" in the latter incom- 
 parable treatise, particularly, Howe seems to have caught much 
 of the spirit which animated his Divine Master on that sad 
 occasion to which the discourse in question refers. 
 
 Allied to the excellence of which I have just spoken, and, 
 indeed, only a further manifestation of the same spirit, is that 
 enlarged and compassionate charity towards the infirmities and 
 frailties of mankind,* of which some of the most excellent 
 men have often possessed least. Ever in extremes, our nature 
 is sure to distort, in some way or other, the features even of 
 the divinest excellence. Thus, holiness itself is too apt to put 
 on a harshness of tone, a coldness of mien, which, though it 
 
 * See this exquisitely exemplified iu his beautiful sermon, on " Charity 
 towards other Men's Sins."
 
 266 LIFE or JOHN HOWE. 
 
 covers guilt with shame, covers it also with despair, and com- 
 pels it to feel, not only " how awful goodness is," but how 
 unattractive. In general, this is likely to be seen in men who 
 have somewhat of that loftiness and purity of character which 
 distinguished John Howe. Yet, in conformity with that 
 wonderful principle of amalgamation, which combined in him 
 qualities almost incongruous, his writings teem with the 
 brightest displays of an opposite spirit; in him, goodness 
 inspires as much love as veneration; he allures as well as 
 awes; as he pleads for the majesty of truth, guilt not only 
 stands abashed, but melted and softened by the unexpected 
 exhibition of sympathy with its wretchedness. This should 
 be a trait much coveted by every Christian minister ; it is an 
 imitation of Him whose immaculate purity did not prevent 
 him from compassionating our sorrows ; and who, " though 
 without sin, can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities." 
 
 Of the exemplary manner in which he filled the various 
 domestic and social relations of life, it is amply sufficient to 
 point to the indications of enthusiastic love and veneration, 
 with which almost every notice of him that has come down to 
 us, however incidental, is full. 
 
 His humility, his modesty, his unambitious temper, cannot 
 be better illustrated than by his conduct in public life. Great 
 as his practical talents were, he never coveted the influence 
 and the fame which would have been the certain reward of 
 their energetic exercise. If honours came, they came un- 
 sought; and even then were endured rather than enjoyed. 
 Well as he filled a public station, he felt that there was one 
 which he not only could fill better, but which was infinitely 
 more in harmony with the make of his mind and the habits 
 of his life. It is evident from the whole tenour of his history, 
 as well as from the air of sincerity which characterizes him, 
 when touching on such subjects, that it was matter of sincere 
 regret when he was called forth from the calm retreat of de- 
 votion and study, to fill a more public station. It is true, he 
 complied ; he complied cheerfully, because it was a duty ; but 
 only as a duty. He resembled the angelic messengers, so 
 often mentioned in Scripture, who, when they visited earth
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 267 
 
 upon the missions of heavenly benevolence, tarried as short 
 a time as possible on our dark and troubled orb, and after 
 fulfilling their commission, sped back again to the dwellings 
 of serenity and love. How touching was the importunity with 
 which he implored Cromwell not to separate him from his 
 flock ! How did he deprecate promotion, as earnestly as 
 others would have sought it ! And how sincere was the de- 
 light with which the pastor, once more free, returned to his 
 early and humble labours ! the same simple-minded man as 
 before, a man (rare excellence !) unchanged by prosperity. 
 
 Not that Howe, for he was still true to what I have so 
 often represented as the ruling principle of his character, and 
 recoiled from every extreme, even when it was but an exag- 
 geration of an acknowledged excellence, not that Howe had 
 any sympathy with that proud humility, which affects to 
 consider the dignities and honours of earth as absolutely 
 worthless. He did not, like the ascetic, undervalue them ; 
 he merely valued them at their proper price. He thought 
 them of little worth, it is true; because he was perpetually 
 contrasting them with what was of infinitely greater value. 
 He was too sincerely engaged in the contemplation of the in- 
 corruptible and eternal, not to feel, when he turned to earth, 
 that her brightest scenes shone only with a faded and tarnished 
 lustre. There is one passage on this subject, so remarkably 
 beautiful and touching, in his " Vanity of Man as Mortal," 
 that I cannot resist the temptation to transcribe it. 
 
 "Thus also ought we to look upon secular honours and 
 dignity ; neither to make them the matter of our admiration, 
 affectation, or envy. We are not to behold them with a libid- 
 inous eye, or let our hearts thirst after them; not to value 
 ourselves the more for them, if they be our lot, nor let our 
 eye be dazzled with admiration or distorted with envy, when 
 we behold them the ornaments of others. We are not to ex- 
 press that contempt of them, which may make a breach on 
 civility, or disturb the order and policy of the communities 
 whereto we belong. Though this be none of our own country, 
 and we are still to reckon ourselves but as pilgrims and stran- 
 gers while we are here ; yet it becomes not strangers to be 
 insolent or rude in their behaviour, where they sojourn, how
 
 268 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 much soever greater value they may justly have of their own 
 country. We should pay to secular greatness a due respect, 
 without idolatry, and neither despise nor adore it ; considering, 
 at once, the requisiteness of such a thing in the present state, 
 and the excelling glory of the other : as, though in prudence 
 and good manners we would abstain from provoking affronts 
 towards an American sachem or sagamore, if we did travel or 
 converse in their country, yet we could have no great venera- 
 tion for them, having beheld the royal pomp and grandeur of 
 our own prince ; especially he who was himself a courtier and 
 favourite to his much more glorious sovereign, whom he is 
 shortly to attend at home, could have no great temptation 
 to sue for offices and honours, or bear a very profound intrinsic 
 homage to so mean and unexpressive an image of regality/' 
 
 It now only remains that I speak of the piety of John Howe. 
 It was this which attuned the whole of that intellectual and 
 moral harmony, of which I have been speaking. We have 
 seen that he was gifted with the most various talents by 
 nature, and these, too, in singular perfection ; and that they 
 were improved by very finished cultivation, and a diversified 
 discipline ; but it was religion that presided over all, deter- 
 mined each faculty to its appropriate objects, and regulated 
 the measure of its exercise. It permitted none of them, if I 
 may use such an expression, to break the ranks, but led them 
 on in a stately and solemn march in the progress towards 
 perfection. 
 
 None can study the writings, or, what is better still, the 
 life of this truly great man, without feeling that his piety was 
 of the very highest order ; that religion was his element ; that 
 in communion with the supreme good, in a diligent prepara- 
 tion for a nobler state of being, in the contemplation of the 
 future and the unseen, he really found the highest pleasures 
 of his existence ; that he had attained as complete an ascend- 
 ency over sensual and animal nature, and as lofty an elevation 
 above the world, as was ever vouchsafed to poor humanity. 
 This, indeed, is the secret of that unclouded serenity, that 
 repose of mind, which characterized his life. 
 
 His piety partook of the harmony which reigned throughout 
 his character. It was remarkably free from the exaggerations
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 269 
 
 into which even some of the best of men have been betrayed. 
 He displays none of the affectation of contempt for the present 
 world, which is compatible with the utmost worldliness ; nor 
 aims at a preternatural elevation of soul, which would imply 
 something more than human. In a word, he had nothing 
 either of the anchorite or ascetic in his composition. He 
 neither thought that earth was worth nothing, because heaven 
 was worth infinitely more, nor that religion could only be 
 founded on the ruins of humanity. 
 
 It may be said, indeed, that to be free from the extrava- 
 gances of the hermitage and the cell is no uncommon merit. 
 But the spirit in which these extravagances originate is not 
 restricted to any particular communion ; it is almost as uni- 
 versal as human nature ; and it is a more rare thing than such 
 an objector would perhaps imagine, to find a piety, like that 
 of Howe, quite free from these and similar extravagances. 
 
 Some perhaps would demur to the statement that the re- 
 ligion of Howe was quite free from every tinge of enthusiasm ; 
 and they would point, in justification of their doubt, to the 
 remarkable passages which were found inscribed on the blank 
 leaf of his study Bible. On these passages I shall offer a 
 single observation, merely remarking at present, that they 
 commence with expressions which indicate a soundness and 
 sobriety of religious sentiment, very inconsistent with the 
 character of an enthusiast. The passages are as follows : 
 
 "Dec. 26, 89. Quum diu apud me serib recogitarem, praeter 
 certum et indubium assensum rebus fidei adhibendum, neces- 
 sarium insuper esse viviftcum guendam earundem gustum et 
 saporem, ut majori cum vi et efficacia in ipsissima cordis penetra- 
 lia sese insererent ; ibidemque altius infixce,. vitam eo potentius 
 regerent ; neque aliter de bono Deum versus statu conclusum iri, 
 sive sanum judicium posse ratum haberi ; cumque pro concione, 
 2 Cor. i. 12, fusius tractassem, hoc ipso mane ex hujus modi 
 somnio dulcissimo, primo evigilavi : mirum scilicet a superno 
 Divines Majestatis solio, ccelestium radiorum profluvium in 
 apertum meum hiansque pectus, iufusum esse videbatur. 
 
 " Saepius ab illo insigni die, memorabile illud pignus Divini 
 favoris, grato animo recolui, atque dulcedinem ejusdem iterum 
 atque iterum degustavi.
 
 270 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 "Quge autem Octob. 22, 1704, id genus miranda Dei mei 
 benignitate, et suavissima Spiritus Sancti operatione percepi, 
 omnium verborum quae mihi suppetit copiam, plane superant ! 
 Perquam jucundam cordis emollitionem expertus sum, fusis 
 prae gaudio lachrymis, quod amor Dei per corda diffundere- 
 tur, mihique speciatim donate in hunc finem Spiritu suo. 
 Kom. v. 5." * 
 
 Some may perhaps ask the curious question, was the dream 
 mentioned in the first paragraph naturally suggested by a holy 
 and happy state of mind, (in this respect, following a well- 
 known law of dreams,) or was it designed as a special disclo- 
 sure of the Divine love and favour ? If either of these sup- 
 positions could be established, they would reject the other. 
 But the fact is, that these suppositions do not exclude one 
 another. That there may have been nothing supernatural in 
 any of the circumstances of the dream itself that they may 
 be all referred to the intervention of ordinary second causes 
 that there was no disturbance or suspension of the regular 
 order of nature, may be admitted ; and yet it will not follow 
 from such admission, that the Divine Being did not intend 
 this dream to be a special manifestation of his regard ; unless 
 it be first admitted, that he never will employ any combina- 
 
 * I subjoin Mr. Spademan's translation : 
 
 " Dec. 26, 89. After that I had long, seriously, and repeatedly thought with 
 myself, that besides a full and undoubted assent to the objects of faith, a vivi- 
 fying, savoury taste and relish of them was also necessary, that with stronger 
 force and more powerful energy, they might penetrate into the most inward centre 
 of my heart, and there being most deeply fixed and rooted, govern my life : and 
 that there could be no other sure ground whereon to conclude and pass a sound 
 judgment, on my good estate God-ward ; and after I had in my course of preach- 
 ing been largely insisting on 2 Cor. i. 12, ' This is my rejoicing, the testimony 
 of a good conscience,' etc. ; this very morning I awoke out of a most ravishing 
 -and delightful dream, that a wonderful and copious stream of celestial rays, 
 from the lofty throne of the Divine Majesty, did seem to dart into my open and 
 expanded breast. I have often since with great complacency reflected on that 
 very signal pledge of special Divine favour vouchsafed to me on that noted me- 
 morable day ; and have, with repeated fresh pleasure, tasted the delights thereof. 
 But what of the same kind I sensibly felt through the admirable bounty of my 
 God, and the most pleasant comforting influence of the Holy Spirit, on Oct. 
 22, 1704, far surpassed the most expressive words my thoughts can suggest. I 
 then experienced an inexpressibly pleasant melting of heart, tears gushing out 
 of mine eyes, for joy that God should shed abroad his love abundantly through 
 the hearts of men, and that for this very purpose mine own should be so 
 signally possessed of and by his blessed Spirit. Eom. v. 5."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 271 
 
 tions of ordinary causes to conspire in such a result an 
 admission, by the way, which would go far to banish the 
 doctrine of a providence altogether. 
 
 The devotion of Howe was one of the loveliest parts of his 
 character. It was deep, habitual, and intense; it was not 
 founded on a partial or distorted view of the Divine character, 
 but was just the impression likely to be produced, by a har- 
 monious perception of the various relations in which man 
 stands to God under the gospel economy. 
 
 That the piety of Howe was as habitual as it was deep, that 
 he applied it to every event of life, those most beautiful and 
 affecting reflections, which he penned when deliberating at 
 Antrim, whether he should remove to London or not, are a 
 striking proof. 
 
 He, who could thus make every duty a matter of conscience, 
 and lay bare his bosom to the searching inspection of the 
 Spirit of God, could not fail to make rapid progress in the 
 attainment of every species of excellence : since to obey im- 
 plicitly the will of God is to act, in each case, from the noblest 
 and the most exalted motives. 
 
 To recapitulate ; Howe seems to have been a combination 
 of very various and, in some respects, almost heterogeneous 
 excellencies, any one of which may have been seen in a greater 
 degree somewhere or other, but have seldom been concentred 
 in such perfection in one person. To the acutest powers of 
 argument, and the finest talents for speculation, he conjoined 
 a discriminating judgment, and shed around all, the light of a 
 powerful and sublime imagination. He possessed talents which 
 equally fitted him for a contemplative or an active life ; and 
 though the tendencies of his mind would have led him to the 
 former as a matter of choice, he was capable of performing 
 the most arduous services in the latter, when a matter of duty. 
 To the most enlarged acquaintance with abstract science, he 
 united a knowledge, not less profound, of human nature. In 
 all transactions with the world, he exhibited a rare combina- 
 tion of prudence and integrity. In that most delicate task, 
 the reproof of others, he was inflexibly faithful, yet always 
 kind ; and while he remembered what was due to the majesty
 
 272 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of truth, never forgot what was also due to the claims of 
 charity. He was frank, yet not rash ; and cautious, yet free 
 from suspicion. In his deportment, he knew how to conciliate 
 elevation of character with the gentlest condescension, and 
 the acutest sensibility. Dignified, but not austere, he was 
 "grave without moroseness, and cheerful without levity." 
 While he subjected all the inferior principles of his nature to 
 the severe control of reason, itself enlightened by the Spirit of 
 God, he was not so absurd as to attempt their annihilation ; 
 nor did the loftiest attainments of intellect interfere with the 
 varied display of all human charities. 
 
 Above all, these qualities were crowned, or rather sustained 
 and nurtured, by a deep, ardent, habitual, all-pervading spirit 
 of piety ; a piety which united burning zeal with the coolest 
 judgment ; the most intense desire for the glory of God, with 
 ceaseless efforts for the welfare of man ; the loftiest exercises 
 of a deeply meditative and devotional spirit, with the sedulous 
 cultivation of the homeliest graces ; that rarest of all combi- 
 nations the closest communion with the future and the 
 eternal, with a conscientious and busy discharge of all the 
 duties of to-day. Such was John Howe : the rude elements 
 of this various excellence were, indeed, bestowed at his birth ; 
 but it was the power of the gospel of Christ, and that alone, 
 which developed and expanded them ; which directed them to 
 the noblest objects; which controlled, purified, and exalted 
 them. As his reception of the gospel was an illustrious tribute 
 paid to its truth, so his character and life were an emphatic ex- 
 hibition of its power. That he had his faults, we are certain ; 
 for he was man : while all the excellencies he possessed, he 
 would have been the first to attribute solely to the influence 
 of the Spirit of God. That these were many, we may judge 
 from the language of Spademan, his friend and coadjutor, 
 language already quoted, and worthy of being quoted again, 
 that " it seemed as though he was intended to be an inviting 
 example of universal goodness."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ANALYSIS OP HOWE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS HIS POSTHUMOUS WORKS THE LIVING TEMPLE THE 
 
 TREATISE ON DELIGHTING IN GOD THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS THE 
 
 VANITY OF MAN AS MORTAL THE TRACTATE ON THE DIVINE PRESCIENCE THE 
 
 CALM AND SOBER INQUIRY INTO THE POSSIBILITY OF A TRINITY IN THE GODHEAD 
 THE REDEEMER'S DOMINION OVER THE INVISIBLE WORLD HOWE'S FUNERAL 
 SERMONS, AND OTHER OCCASIONAL DISCOURSES. 
 
 IT is my intention, in the following remarks on Howe's 
 writings, to confine myself to those pieces which he himself 
 prepared for the press, and for which alone, therefore, he is 
 responsible. These are contained in the two folio volumes of 
 Calamy's edition. 
 
 Of his posthumous writings, as they are often called, a great 
 part are not his writings in any proper sense. They are 
 merely notes of some of his sermons, taken by some of his 
 hearers who wrote shorthand, and published after his death. 
 Those notes are, I acknowledge, in some respects valuable. 
 They contain, here and there, thoughts worthy of the lips 
 from which they fell. At the same time, it is obvious that the 
 continuity of thought, which so greatly distinguished Howe, 
 is often lost, the transitions from one topic to another are often 
 exceedingly abrupt, and sometimes very different topics are 
 confounded together. These are defects which will always be 
 inseparable from such an inadequate method of preserving the 
 discourses of a public speaker. 
 
 Though, therefore, the notes in question are of value, they 
 are not to be placed on a level with the writings which Howe 
 himself prepared for publication; and it would be unjust to 
 make him answerable for them. This would hardly be fair, 
 indeed, had they been faithful transcripts of the discourses in 
 
 T
 
 74 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 question since they were merely ordinary pulpit exercises, 
 and not composed with the remotest idea of publication. Nor 
 had any of his "posthumous works" been prepared by him 
 for the press. 
 
 Almost all Howe's controversial pieces, (being so closely 
 connected with his own history, and that of his times,) have 
 already been the subject of remark. These are, his " Letter 
 to a Person of Quality," in reply to Stillingfleet ; his sermon 
 on " Union among Protestants ; " his two discourses on the 
 " Carnality of Religious Contention;" and his tract on "Oc- 
 casional Conformity." 
 
 The remaining works will be considered, not in the order 
 of their publication, but according to their magnitude or im- 
 portance. The circumstances under which they were severally 
 composed have already been mentioned, and will not be alluded 
 to in this portion of the volume. 
 
 Neither shall I make any remarks on peculiarities of style 
 or manner these points having been fully discussed, in con- 
 sidering Howe's character as an author. 
 
 The work which, in accordance with the principle of ar- 
 rangement laid down, first demands our attention, is the 
 tf Living Temple." It is by far the largest, most important, 
 and most elaborate, of all the author's publications. It was 
 published originally in two parts, and at dates differing by an 
 interval of nearly thirty years. The first appeared in 1676, 
 the year after his return from Ireland the second, in 1702. 
 
 The whole work professes to be " a designed improvement 
 of that notion, that a good man is the Temple of God ; " and 
 forms, in fact, a system of theology, an exposition of all the 
 great principles of religion, both natural and revealed. 
 
 As the idea of a " Temple " obviously presupposes an 
 object of worship, and the willingness of the Deity to hold 
 intercourse with his worshippers, the author devotes the first 
 part to an elaborate demonstration of the " existence and 
 perfections " of God, and of his " conversableness with men." 
 
 It was certainly the ablest work on the atheistical and de- 
 istical controversies which had yet appeared. 
 
 The crisis at which the first part of the " Living Temple "
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 275 
 
 was written, was a most important one. It was but too evi- 
 dent that the controversial genius of the age was about to 
 take an entirely new direction. The spirit of sceptical specu- 
 lation was rapidly advancing. It continued to advance, till, 
 at length, it boldly questioned all the fundamental principles 
 both of ethics and theology. 
 
 Hitherto there had not been the remotest cause for appre- 
 hension from such a source. The danger, for at least many 
 years after the Reformation, was rather of an opposite nature. 
 Men so recently, and, in thousands of instances, so partially 
 emancipated from a system of the most abject superstition, 
 were far more likely to believe too much than too little, far 
 more inclined to credulity than scepticism. If a faint whisper 
 of infidelity was now and then heard, it was little heeded ; the 
 less so, that sceptics were compelled, out of deference to 
 public opinion, and (to our shame be it spoken) from a dread 
 of public punishment, either to conceal their doctrines in a 
 learned tongue, or to disguise them, (an expedient which the 
 apostles of sceptical schools have employed with singular 
 adroitness from the remotest times,} in language which would 
 not shock popular belief; to teach pantheism, like Spinosa, in 
 the specious language of devotion ; or deism, like Tindal, by 
 representing " Christianity " to be " as old as the creation." 
 Up to the middle of the seventeenth century, not a single 
 English writer of any eminence had openly avowed a disbelief 
 in Christianity, except Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, brother 
 to that simple-minded and excellent man, George Herbert, 
 the poet. 
 
 It was in reply to Lord Herbert, as well as to some other 
 more obscure and less able writers, that Baxter composed his 
 voluminous work on the Christian evidences. 
 
 When Howe published the first part of his " Living 
 Temple," a very obvious change had taken place in the as- 
 pect of those controversies which respected the fundamental 
 principles of theology. By this time, Hobbes and others had 
 published their daring and presumptuous speculations. 
 
 To the rapid changes which had taken place in the aspect 
 of the controversies in question, Howe alludes in the first
 
 276 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 chapter of his . ' ' Living Temple." The passage is one of 
 uncommon force and beauty, and contains the following 
 striking and characteristic observations on the probable con- 
 nexion between the progress of scepticism and the rancour 
 of religious contentions ; and on the best mode of defending 
 religion, that of practically exhibiting it in its purity and 
 glory : 
 
 " Since matters are brought to that exigency and hazard, 
 that it seems less necessary to contend about this or that mode 
 of religion, as whether there ought to be any at all ; what was 
 said of a former age could never better agree to any than our 
 own, that ' none was ever more fruitful of religions, and barren 
 of religion or true piety.' It concerns us to consider whether 
 the fertility of these many doth not as well cause, as accom- 
 pany, a barrenness in this one. 
 
 " Who fears to insult over an empty, dispirited, dead re- 
 ligion? which alive and shining in its native glory (as that 
 Temple doth which is compacted of ' lively stones ' united to 
 the * living corner stone') bears with it a magnificence and 
 state that would check a profane look, and dazzle the pre- 
 sumptuous eye that durst venture to glance at it obliquely or 
 with disrespect. 
 
 " The temple of the living God, manifestly animated by his 
 vital presence, would not only dismay opposition, but command 
 veneration also, and be its own both ornament and defence. 
 Nor can it be destitute of that presence if we ourselves render 
 it not inhospitable, and make not its proper inhabitant become 
 a stranger at home." 
 
 In his attempt to demonstrate the existence and perfections 
 of God, he does not restrict himself, as Clarke* has professed 
 to do, or as Paley f has really done, to any one species of 
 argument. Provided it be in his judgment sound, and can be 
 rendered intelligible, he is content to avail himself of any 
 argument, from whatsoever source derived ; to prove one part 
 of his propositions by one train of reasoning, and another by 
 another. As to whether his arguments are uniform and horno- 
 
 * In his (so called) a priori demonstration, 
 t In his ' Natural Theology."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 277 
 
 geneous throughout, a point about which Clarke is so 
 curiously solicitous, Howe is totally careless. He justly 
 thought that the momentous character of the cause he advo- 
 cated, as much required that he should not neglect any sound 
 argument, as that he should reject every argument that was 
 not sound ; that the magnitude and importance of the object 
 justified him in pursuing it " velis et remis." 
 
 The first chapter is wholly introductory. In the second, he 
 argues both " the existence of God and his conversableness 
 with man," from "the general consent" of mankind. This 
 consent, in accordance with the prevailing philosophy of the 
 day, he appears to attribute to " innate ideas." The doctrine 
 of such innate ideas, as it was the object of Locke to refute, 
 (if any one, indeed, ever really held it) may well be rejected ; 
 but the argument for any truth, founded on the universal belief 
 of mankind, remains precisely the same in force, whether we 
 reject that doctrine or not. It is the universality of the belief 
 which constitutes the argument, not the manner in which that 
 universality may be supposed to be produced. Whether we 
 admit, with the advocates of a better " doctrine of innate 
 ideas," that such and such truths are congenital with the 
 mind, and are involved with the very elements of its being ; 
 or simply say, that they infallibly commend themselves as 
 true, to reason, as soon as reason is fully developed ; that is, 
 that the human mind is so constituted that, as its faculties un- 
 fold, it will inevitably arrive at such and such conclusions, 
 the argument from universal belief is in either case just the same. 
 
 That the all but universal prevalence of a belief in a Deity 
 a belief which has prevailed throughout all ages and nations, 
 and amidst every conceivable variety of prejudice, education, 
 and civil polity ; above all, which has been most generally 
 cherished and most firmly held by the most enlightened com- 
 munities of mankind, and if absent in any, absent only in 
 tribes little raised above the brutes, is a strong presumptive 
 argument against the atheistic theory, must surely be acknow- 
 ledged by any candid atheist, if, indeed, any such person is to 
 be found. It is an instance, as Whately. iu his Rhetoric, 
 justly observes, of the argument from "progressive approach."
 
 278 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 After having briefly but powerfully touched on this topic, 
 our author proceeds to a more formal proof of the existence of 
 God, whom he defines to be "an eternal, uncaused, indepen- 
 dent, and necessary Being, that hath action, power, life, 
 wisdom, goodness, and whatsoever other supposable excel- 
 lency, in the highest perfection, originally in and of itself." 
 
 Before proceeding to insist on those arguments which appear 
 to him most satisfactory, he gives his reason for declining to 
 employ the methods of Descartes and others, alluded to in 
 Cudworth's " Intellectual System/' (as well as in Henry 
 More's " Enchiridion Metaphysicum") ; that is, of proving 
 the existence of God from the very conception of him as an 
 absolutely Perfect Being. This argument Howe, with charac- 
 teristic judgment, rejects ; not, as he affirms, that he thinks 
 it might not, " in spite of cavil, be managed with demonstra- 
 tive evidence," but " because some most pertinaciously insist, 
 that it is, at bottom, a mere sophism : " he therefore, " without 
 detracting anything from the force of it, prefers to go another 
 way, as plainer and less liable to exception, though more 
 circuitous." 
 
 I not only think Howe was right in rejecting such a species 
 of argument, as likely to be absolutely unintelligible to the 
 mass of readers, and of doubtful significance even to the most 
 acute and the best instructed, but I must confess I cannot see 
 its " demonstrative evidence" at all.* 
 
 It has often been supposed that what is called Clarke's a 
 priori " demonstration " is based on a single principle, and is 
 homogeneous and concatenated throughout. f Such a notion 
 is not unnaturally suggested by the author's declaration, 
 " that he has confined himself to one only method or con- 
 tinued thread of argument, which he has endeavoured should 
 be as near to mathematical as the nature of such a discourse 
 would allow ;"{ or, as he yet more boldly expresses it in the 
 
 * The reasons I have stated elsewhere. Essay on Descartes. Ed. Review, 
 Jan. 1852. 
 
 t Dugald Stewart speaks on this subject as though the whole of the 
 " demonstration " was but an elaborate exposition of one logically connected 
 argument. 
 
 Preface.
 
 LTFE OF JOHN HOWE. 279 
 
 introduction, " one clear and plain series of propositions, 
 necessarily connected, and following one from another." 
 Such a representation, however, though Clarke, who was a 
 most honest controvertist, must have believed it in some 
 sense true, will hardly be received by those who will care- 
 fully analyse the piece for themselves. To such, his perform- 
 ance will plainly appear to be made up of three distinct 
 trains of argumentation, two of them strictly a posteriori; 
 and the other, the argument from the conceptions of infinite 
 space and duration. This last is introduced in the "third 
 proposition." But even this argument is not what the 
 whole demonstration has so often been styled properly a 
 priori. Indeed, no argument on such a subject can have any 
 claim to such a title. To reason a priori, in the ordinary 
 sense of those words, is to reason from the cause to the effect. 
 
 j **/ 
 
 Now, supposing the argumentation in the present case quite 
 valid, it is plain it is not a priori; infinite space and infinite 
 duration not being the cause of the existence of Deity, but 
 only the cause of our knowing the fact. From this argu- 
 ment, I confess, whether called a priori or not, I could never 
 derive the slightest satisfaction. 
 
 The argument is as follows : Infinite space and infinite 
 duration are real existences ; as such, they are either sub- 
 stances or attributes : they cannot be the former ; they must 
 be, therefore, the latter. Attributes cannot exist alone : there 
 must, therefore, be some substance of which they are proper- 
 ties, and in which they inhere ! Here are no less than two or 
 three propositions absolutely taken for granted ; and these, 
 too, on a subject on which we are least capable of speculating 
 at all, infinite space and infinite duration. 
 
 When, indeed, we have attained satisfactory proof of the 
 existence of God on other grounds, one can easily conceive 
 that the ideas of immensity and eternity will harmonize with 
 the idea of such a Being ; we seem instinctively to feel that 
 he must be infinite ; that he fills infinite space and exists 
 through infinite duration. But it is hard to conceive how the 
 ideas of space and duration can form the medium of proof 
 that God exists.
 
 280 LIFE OF JOHN 'HOWE. 
 
 And even if it could be logically made out, that infinite 
 space and infinite duration necessarily implied the existence of 
 some being, of whom these were attributes, how would they 
 prove the intellectual and moral perfections of such a being ? 
 Yet it is plain, that unless such attributes can be proved of 
 God, Atheism is distinguishable from Theism only in name. 
 
 And here it is worthy of remark, that when Clarke proposes 
 to prove the intelligence of this infinite First Cause, he openly, 
 and in apparent forgetfulness of his professions "of having 
 adopted but one method, and one continued thread of argu- 
 ment," abandons all the principles on which he had been 
 before reasoning, acknowledging that the intelligent nature of 
 the First Cause cannot well be proved a priori; and, therefore, 
 recurring to the usual a posteriori argument from the traces 
 of wisdom and design, of which the whole universe is full. 
 
 This forms one of the two trains of a, posteriori reasoning, 
 which I have said are to be found in this so-called a priori 
 demonstration* The other is found in the first two proposi- 
 tions of the work, and is exactly similar to that on which 
 Howe insisted in the second chapter of his " Living Temple," 
 more than thirty years before : I mean the argument for 
 " an eternal, uncaused, independent, and necessarily existent 
 Being," from the admitted fact, that something exists now. 
 This is plainly an argument from effects to their cause. 
 
 Instead, therefore, of Clarke's piece being what it aspires to 
 be, one continued chain of reasoning, whereof every proposi- 
 tion depends on the preceding proposition, and all on one set 
 of premises, it is in reality (what, indeed, in spite of all affec- 
 tation of severe logical accuracy, every such work must be) 
 a collection of inferences argued on different grounds, and by 
 different methods. None of the reasoning, it is true, is a 
 priori in the strictest sense : not even that which professes 
 to demonstrate the existence of God from the ideas of infinite 
 space and infinite duration ; while the rest, as just said, con- 
 sists of two distinct trains of strictly a posteriori reasoning ; 
 the one, proving the eternity and self -existence of God, and 
 depending on the postulate, " that every effect must have a 
 cause;" the other, his intelligence and wisdom, and depend-
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 281 
 
 ing on a similar postulate, " that whatever exhibits marks of 
 design, must have had an intelligent author." These portions 
 of the work, if taken separately, and considered as indepen- 
 dent trains of reasoning, founded on independent premises, 
 are abundantly clear and satisfactory. But these topics had 
 been already frequently insisted on, and especially by Howe, 
 in the work now under consideration. Whatever value may 
 belong to these trains of reasoning, taken separately, it as- 
 suredly cannot be said that Clarke demonstrated the existence 
 and perfections of God "in one continued thread of argument, 
 or in one series of necessarily dependent propositions." It is 
 this unwise claim which defrauds his work of much of the 
 merit to which it would otherwise be entitled. 
 
 Clarke seems to have been betrayed into this error by that 
 love of logical subtlety and scientific exactness, which his 
 habits, as a mathematician, could not fail to inspire.* 
 
 Howe has fallen into no such error : he has wisely contented 
 himself with proving the different parts of his great proposi- 
 tion, by different premises, and by different methods. But to 
 resume the exposition of his argument. 
 
 The principal part of the second chapter is taken up with an 
 elaborate and. very able exposition of the a posteriori argument 
 for the existence of an "eternal, independent, uncaused, 
 necessarily existent Being," as deduced from the fact that 
 something exists now. That argument is simply as follows : 
 
 1st. Since " something" exists now, something must al- 
 ways have existed, unless we admit that at some period or 
 other, " something" sprang out of "nothing." 
 
 2nd. Something or other must have existed from all eternity 
 of itself , unless we are still prepared to embrace the absurdity 
 above mentioned. This we must do, if we maintain that all 
 tilings that have ever existed have owed their origin to some- 
 
 \ 
 
 * Not only is Howe's general method preferable ; he also anticipates most of 
 Clarke's argumentation. It is well remarked by Dr. Doddridge, that if every- 
 thing were abstracted from the " Demonstration," which had been already 
 stated in the " Living Temple," the residue would be little indeed. From this 
 it must not be supposed that Clarke plagiarized, but merely that he was to a 
 great extent anticipated. Clarke, as already said, was not only an acute but 
 an honest disputant.
 
 282 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 thing else, since that something else would be of course in- 
 cluded. 
 
 3rd. This something which has eternally existed of itself, 
 exists necessarily ; in other words, is of such a nature that it 
 could not but exist. 
 
 4th. For similar reasons, it will never cease to exist. 
 
 5th. Whatsoever partakes not of this necessary, self -existent 
 nature, must obviously owe its existence to that which does : 
 unless we come back to the former absurdity, that something 
 may spring frqm nothing. 
 
 The reasoning thus far is clear and well sustained, and the 
 first part of the proposition established ; that there is an 
 eternal, uncaused, necessarily existent something, which is the 
 primary cause of whatsoever is created, successive, and 
 mutable. But then what is the character of this mysterious 
 something ? Is it a blind unintelligent agent, or is it in- 
 vested with any intellectual and moral attributes ? and if with 
 any, with what ? These questions, so far as the above reason- 
 ing goes, are left altogether undecided. Instead, therefore, 
 of suspending on the chain a greater weight than it will bear; 
 instead of attempting to educe (as Clarke promises to do, but 
 really does not) the intellectual and moral perfections of Deity 
 " from one clear and plain series of propositions, necessarily 
 connected and following one from another," Howe wisely 
 proceeds to establish the other parts of his proposition on 
 other grounds. 
 
 In the third chapter, therefore, in which he affirms intel- 
 ligence of this eternal and uncaused Being, he gives us a long, 
 and, considering the defective philosophy of the age, a very 
 masterly exhibition of the usual a posteriori argument, founded 
 on the traces of wisdom displayed in every part of creation. 
 
 The force of this argument, as such, depends on the admis- 
 sion, that ' ' whatever exhibits traces of design must have had 
 an intelligent author." As the marks of consummate skill 
 and wisdom displayed in the works of God are so obvious, 
 even on the most superficial survey, and not only attract, but 
 compel observation, it is impossible that God should ever be 
 in this respect " without witness/* Accordingly, we find
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 283 
 
 that many of the same facts have been insisted on by all 
 writers who have treated this subject, from Plato and Cicero, 
 down to the authors of the "Bridgewater Treatises." Still, 
 as the argument is perpetually cumulative, (for all the dis- 
 coveries of science are but so many disclosures of the 
 Creator's wisdom,) the degree of impressiveness with which 
 the argument may be exhibited, will always depend, cceteris 
 paribus, on the extent and accuracy of scientific knowledge. 
 A writer of the present day, who should possess exactly the 
 qualities which distinguished Paley, the same perspicacity 
 of mind the same powers of reasoning the same command 
 of forcible and homely illustration the same perspicuity and 
 vigour of style would possess far greater facilities for com- 
 posing a work on "Natural Theology" than his predecessor; 
 nor is it impossible that, hereafter, such a work as that of 
 Paley may appear quite antiquated. As the great revolution 
 which took place in the state of physical science during the 
 seventeenth century, had only just commenced at the time 
 Howe wrote, it was not to be expected that the argument 
 should be treated with anything like the copiousness and 
 splendour of illustration which distinguish many modern 
 treatises. His scientific knowledge was comparatively limited, 
 and, of course, by no means free from the prevailing errors of 
 the time. The chapter on this subject, however, is dis- 
 tinguished by great comprehensiveness. In proof of this, it 
 may be observed, that he has made much of the traces of 
 design exhibited in the constitution of the human mind a 
 department which, until lately, has rarely been touched by 
 writers on " Natural Theology." * 
 
 The manner, too, in which he states the nature of the argu- 
 ment from design, is exceedingly able. It is worthy of remark 
 that, in doing this, he adopts the very same illustration with 
 which Paley introduces his " Natural Theology." 
 
 The following sentences (and there is a much more minute 
 application of the illustration in the context) may be read with 
 interest on this account : 
 
 * Lord Brougham has remarked this in his work on the subject. He has 
 also done much to supply the deficiency.
 
 284 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " That we may also make the case as plain as possible to the 
 most ordinary capacity, we will suppose, for instance, that one 
 who had never seen a watch or anything of that sort, hath 
 now this little engine first offered to his view ; can we doubt 
 that he would, upon the mere sight of its figure, structure, 
 and the very curious workmanship which we will suppose ap- 
 pearing in it, presently acknowledge the artificer's hand? 
 .But if he were also made to understand the use and purpose 
 for which it serves, and it were distinctly shown him how each 
 thing contributes, and all things in this little fabric concur, to 
 this purpose, the exact measuring and dividing of time by 
 minutes, hours, and months, he would certainly both confess 
 and praise the great ingenuity of the first inventor. 
 
 *:{:*:$:;:** 
 
 " But surely such general easy reflections on the frame of 
 the universe, and the order of parts in the bodies of all sorts 
 of living creatures, as the meanest ordinary understanding is 
 capable of, would soon discover incomparably greater evidence 
 of wisdom and design in the contrivance of these, than in 
 that of a watch or clock. 
 
 ******* 
 
 "And let them that understand anything of the composition 
 of a human body (or indeed of any living creature) but bethink 
 themselves whether there be not equal contrivance at least 
 appearing in the composure of that admirable fabric, as of any 
 the most admired machine or engine devised and made by 
 human wit and skill. If we pitch on anything of known and 
 common use, as suppose again a clock or watch, which is no 
 sooner seen, than it is acknowledged (as hath been said) the 
 effect of a designing cause, will we not confess as much of the 
 body of a man?"* 
 
 * It is, perhaps, not very probable that Paley had seen Howe's illustration ; 
 if he had, he has abundantly made it his own. But he has been supposed to 
 have stolen a like illustration, together with some others from Nieuwentyt, and 
 a vehement, but most absurd charge of plagiarism was brought against him 
 some years ago in one of our journals. I have replied to the charge against Paley 
 elsewhere, and extract a few sentences ; for we ought not lightly to let odious 
 imputations of plagiarism rest on illustrious men who have deserved the grate- 
 ful remembrance of all friends of truth and religion : 
 
 " In fact, it is absurd to charge Paley with plagiarism for having selected 
 matter from other writers ; his whole work proceeds on that supposition ; it is 
 the manner in which he has employed his materials (in themselves common- 
 place enough), that stamps his work as original. The facts of science he deals 
 with he did not discover ; he knew perfectly well that he must be indebted for
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 285 
 
 This chapter also contains an excellent refutation of the 
 Cartesian doctrine, " that animals are mere machines ; " and a 
 long, and, in some parts, rather jocose refutation of the 
 "atomic theory of Epicurus." The humour, it must be con- 
 fessed, is somewhat unwieldy, and contrasts strangely with 
 the usual gravity of the author. He himself seems not a 
 little surprised that he should have been betrayed into this 
 extraordinary fit of pleasantry, for he closes the argument 
 with an apology for it. 
 
 The fourth chapter is an attempt to demonstrate, from the 
 propositions previously established, the absolute perfection and 
 infinity " of the eternal and self -existent Cause ; " and I con- 
 fess that, considered in a purely logical point of view, certain 
 portions of it are to my mind the most unsatisfactory in the 
 whole work. They are so for the same reasons which render 
 all merely human speculation on the transcendental subjects 
 of the "Infinite'" and " Absolute" unsatisfactory. In Howe's 
 day, however, seeming success was more easy than it would 
 be now. Sundry metaphysical axioms would then be accepted, 
 or at least not be denied, which would now be thought pre- 
 
 every one of them to others. But the same charge of plagiarism might be 
 brought against any formal treatise, either of science or history, for nine-tenths 
 of the substance of it must exist in previous writers. Such charge, if it had 
 any force at all, might much more reasonably be brought against Paley for the 
 use he has made of Derham and Ray ; for he is more indebted to these than to 
 the Dutchman. But he who is at the trouble of comparing them with Paley 
 will soon find that though the materials must of necessity be much the same, 
 the interval is wide enough to leave Paley 's originality in all that is really 
 claimed for him unquestionable. 
 
 " We have no hesitation in saying that if, out of Nieuwentyt's three ill- 
 compacted volumes, Paley had evoked such a work as his 'Natural Theology' 
 by selections, by rejections, by condensation, by re-arrangement, and by diffu- 
 sing over the whole the vivid lights of his vigorous mind and style, his claims to 
 originality would have suffered as little abatement as that of Shakespeare (on 
 whom a similar charge was once fastened), because in a few of his plays he has 
 condescended to make use of materials of inferior dramatists, and turned, by 
 his magic touch, their lead into gold. 
 
 " The truth is, as just said, that the merit of Paley's work is that of having 
 wrought materials, open to everybody, into a beautiful fabric ; and to blame 
 him that his materials were got from other quarters, is much as if it were 
 charged upon a great architect that his stone was not of his own quarrying, 
 nor his bricks of his own burning. 
 
 " The impress of Paley's very peculiar mind is on this work, as on all the 
 rest, and would alone show that it was no plagiarism, unless all of them be so." 
 Encycl. Brit., art. Paley.
 
 286 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 carious or futile. I cannot think that the conclusions (though 
 most true) strictly follow from the premises; or, indeed, that 
 they can be absolutely proved by anything short of revelation. 
 That the great First Cause must possess power and knowledge, 
 wisdom and goodness, to the extent displayed in his works ; 
 that, even if we were to stay here, these attributes appear to 
 be great beyond all conception ; that there is no reason what- 
 ever why we should conclude them limited ; that it seems more 
 probable that they are without limit; all these points will be 
 most readily conceded ; but they do not amount to strict proof 
 that the Author of the universe is absolutely infinite. 
 
 Not that this can ever make the slightest difference in our 
 relations to him, even if revelation had not decided the point. 
 Whether we can prove God to be absolutely infinite, or not, it 
 is plain that a being who has power and wisdom to the over- 
 whelming extent displayed in the works of creation, would 
 justly demand from his creatures the profoundest adoration 
 and reverence. We are nothing relatively to him, and there- 
 fore, to use the language of mathematics, he is infinite rela- 
 tively to us, whether we can demonstrate his absolute infinity 
 or not. On this subject Howe has some sublime and eloquent 
 observations in a subsequent chapter. 
 
 In the same chapter also he attempts to prove the absolute 
 unity of God. I must confess my inability to see that this 
 follows conclusively from the propositions already established; 
 or, indeed, from anything but the book of Revelation. To 
 prove, in absolute strictness of logic, that there is only one 
 necessarily existent Being, passes, I think, the power of the 
 unaided intellect of man. If it be granted that there is one 
 self-existent Being, mere reason would find it difficult to 
 demonstrate that there could not be more than one. It is of 
 no avail to say that all but that ONE who created the universe 
 must have been eternally inactive ; it might be plausibly said, 
 first, that more than one such Being might have conspired in 
 the creation of the universe ; or, secondly, that since we must 
 suppose all creation to be finite, there was in infinite space 
 scope enough for many separate creations of a plurality of self- 
 existent Beings ; or, lastly, that if only one had evinced his
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 287 
 
 power and wisdom by external manifestations, the supposed 
 eternal inactivity of other self-existent Beings is but the con- 
 dition in which, as far as human reason can conjecture, that 
 One must also have existed when "he inhabited eternity" 
 alone. He, too, as far as we can perceive, must have dwelt in 
 eternal solitude before the work of creation began. If it U 
 said that more than one such Being could not be omnipotent, 
 reason might suggest that it sees not why there should not be 
 more than one Omnipotent in the only sense in which we use 
 the term ; that is, possessing power to do all things which do 
 not imply a contradiction, as, for example, to destroy that 
 which is necessarily self-existent : similarly, that it does not 
 see any contradiction in more than one such Being possessing 
 unlimited wisdom and goodness, as well as power. Such a 
 supposition would merely suggest the idea of perfect consen- 
 taneousness of purpose and of action ; nay, it might perhaps 
 suggest the possibility of some such transcendental truth as 
 that of the Trinity, but would not prove the impossibility of 
 there being more than one self-existent Being. In short, the 
 subject is beyond the compass of a finite mind, and devoutly 
 as we believe the unity of God from revelation, no philoso- 
 phical demonstration that we have seen is wholly satisfactory. 
 When Robert Hall, in his " Sermon on Modern Infidelity," 
 dismisses the question by saying, "It is sufficient to observe 
 that the notion of more than one Author of nature is incon- 
 sistent with the harmony of design which pervades her works, 
 that it solves no appearance, is supported by no evidence, and 
 subserves no purpose but to embarrass and perplex our con- 
 ceptions," we have no difficulty at all in acquiescing in his 
 conclusion ; but if given as a proof of the absolute unity of 
 God, it must be pronounced unworthy of so logical a mind, 
 and evasive of the real difficulties of the problem. The greater 
 part of theologians, we apprehend, would now concede that for 
 certainty on this subject we must come to revelation.* The 
 sophism, sometimes used, that there can only be one neces- 
 
 * Some able remarks on this subject will be found in the Quarterly Review 
 for March, 1826. The utmost that the speculations of antiquity achieved in 
 this direction is there dispassionately stated.
 
 288 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 sarily existent Being, because the supposition of one is all that 
 is necessary to explain the phenomena of the universe, is, I 
 suppose, likely to impose on no one, who is even moderately 
 on his guard against the ambiguities of language. But though 
 the argumentation of this chapter is not absolutely conclusive, 
 it displays, in every part, conspicuous subtlety and acuteness. 
 If it does not fully convince, it at least shows the hazards of 
 denying the conclusion. 
 
 The fifth chapter is one of the most original and best 
 reasoned in the whole work. It demands of the Atheist, 
 whether if he will reject all the preceding evidence for the 
 existence of God there are any conceivable methods by which 
 the fact (conceding it be true) could be certified to us ? Sup- 
 posing this question answered in the affirmative, Howe pro- 
 ceeds to examine all the other methods of certifying the great 
 fact, at all conceivable to human reason ; and then proves that 
 they would every one be open to stronger objections, and 
 would on the great scale be less convincing, than the evidence 
 which the Atheist has already rejected as insufficient. Thus 
 he compels him to adopt the strange conclusion, that, if there 
 &e a God, it is, so far as we can conceive, impossible that his 
 existence should ever be adequately ascertained to us ! 
 
 The sixth and last chapter is well worthy of comparison 
 with anything of the kind that has ever appeared. It is in 
 proof of the second proposition with which he had set .out 
 " God's conversableness with men." It is principally directed 
 against the system of Epicurus, who, while admitting the 
 existence of gods, was too devout, or rather too polite, to 
 trouble them even to create the world, much more to superin- 
 tend its concerns. Leaving all this to his fortuitous concourse 
 of atoms, he graciously permitted his deities to enjoy an 
 eternity of happy indolence ! 
 
 But, though professedly directed against this absurd system, 
 the principal part of Howe's reasoning applies with equal 
 force, and some of it with greater, to those systems of deism, 
 which, admitting the existence of a Creator of the universe, 
 excluded him, for very obvious reasons, from all inconvenient 
 share in the administration of its affairs. He made the world,
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 289 
 
 and then abandoned it ! These systems were not fully deve- 
 loped in Howe's day, nor, indeed, till the age of Bolingbroke, 
 whose superficial genius was suitably employed in defending 
 such a shallow theory. 
 
 The origin of such systems it is not difficult to conjecture. 
 Their authors thus hope to get rid of the logical difficulties 
 which press every modification of the atheistic theory, and, at 
 the same time, to secure that liberty from moral restraints 
 which nothing less than the expulsion of Deity from his throne 
 can insure them. So long as they can secure that, these 
 sovereign arbiters, these makers of their Maker, are willing to 
 behave with the most magnanimous generosity ! They consent 
 to commute his sentence from death to banishment. They do 
 not absolutely prohibit his existence ; they merely forbid him 
 to appear on earth, on the peril of being again resolved into a 
 nonentity ! Thus, while affecting to consult the ease of Deity 
 by relieving him of the irksome and sordid cares of universal 
 empire, they are in reality only intent upon their own. Such 
 men are theists in name, and atheists in reality ; or, as Cicero 
 well said, " verbis reliquerunt deos, re sustulerunt." 
 
 At the conclusion of this chapter, Howe proceeds to assert 
 the omniscience, omnipotence, immensity, and unlimited good- 
 ness of the Deity. Some parts of his reasoning on these topics, 
 considered purely as reasoning, are vitiated by their depen- 
 dence on the argumentation of the fourth chapter, that is, on 
 the reception of some of those metaphysical axioms, especially 
 in relation to the infinite, which would not now be so readily 
 conceded. In that chapter, he endeavours to demonstrate, by 
 unaided reason, that GOD is ' ' absolutely perfect and infinite." 
 Assuming that this has been done, he proceeds to prove some 
 of the attributes above-mentioned by a rather summary pro- 
 cess : something in this way, " It has been proved that GOD 
 is absolutely perfect ; none can doubt that foreknowledge is a 
 perfection ; he therefore has it. It has been proved that he is 
 infinite; his foreknowledge therefore extends to everything 
 future." These remarks, however, only apply to some portions 
 of the reasoning ; very much of it is truly admirable. 
 
 The second part of his " Living Temple," as already stated,
 
 290 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 did not make its appearance till 1702; that is, nearly thirty 
 years after the publication of the first. During that interval 
 had appeared the " Ethics of Spinosa," a posthumous publica- 
 tion, in which alone, of all his writings, the author has given 
 an undisguised exposition of his opinions. In that work, as is 
 well known, Spinosa affirms that there is but one substance 
 thi'oughout the universe, the two great properties of which 
 are, thought and extension ; this he represents as God ; conse- 
 quently, every part of the universe partakes, in some mysteri- 
 ous way, of the Divine nature ! This system combines in itself 
 all the difficulties of Pantheism and Atheism. 
 
 It is obvious that, so far as religion is concerned, " it little 
 matters," to employ the language of Howe, " whether we 
 make nothing to be GOD, or everything ; whether we allow of 
 no GOD to be worshipped, or leave none to worship him." 
 He adds, " Spinosa's attempt to identify and deify all sub- 
 stance, attended with that strange pair of attributes, extension 
 and thought (and an infinite number of others besides), hath a 
 manifest design to throw religion out of the world that way." 
 
 Against this system of Spinosa, as well as against that of a 
 French writer, who, in a work professedly written in refutation 
 of the "Posthumous Ethics," had defended the dangerous 
 doctrine of a "necessary self-existing matter," Howe addresses 
 himself in the first two chapters of the " Second Part." 
 
 The name of the French writer, Howe intimates, was not 
 unknown to him. But he has kept it secret : "he would not 
 divulge," he tells us, " that which the author seemed desirous 
 to conceal." The title of the work in question is " L'Impie 
 Convaincu." * 
 
 The arguments of John Howe on this subject are acute and 
 cogent. If they are not entirely satisfactory, if the reader is 
 disposed to think that the discussion sometimes becomes a 
 vvKTOfjia^ia, it is certainly for no want of subtlety in our author ; 
 but partly from the suspicion that some of the metaphysical 
 
 * It is attributed (Fabricius Script. Vet. et Rec. pro Veritate Relig . p. 359) to 
 Aubert de Verse. Another work on the same subject, with a very si milar title 
 (" L'Impi<3t6 Convaincue,") was written by Pierre Yvon. (Ib. p. 344.)
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 291 
 
 axioms assumed on either side are by no means axiomatic, and 
 lead only to logomachy; and partly from the congenial dark- 
 ness in which pantheistic speculation naturally enshrouds 
 itself. Controversy here is somewhat like a battle in a sub- 
 terranean cavern. 
 
 Having dismissed these topics in the first two chapters, and 
 given, at the beginning of the third, a brief recapitulation of 
 the " First Part," he proceeds to the ulterior objects he con- 
 templated in the work. 
 
 Before he could go further, it was obviously necessary to 
 establish the authority of the book of Eevelation. One would 
 have thought that having spent so much time in proving the 
 fundamental truths of all religion, he would have insisted with 
 proportionable copiousness on the evidences of Christianity. 
 He contents himself, however, with a very short, though very 
 able summary of the principal arguments on which the truth 
 of revelation rests, referring the reader for more ample satis- 
 faction to Grotius' " De Veritate," Stillingfleet's " Origines 
 Sacrae," and Baxter's "Reasons of the Christian Religion," 
 all of them now superseded by innumerable works of greater 
 power and comprehensiveness. 
 
 This leaves him at liberty to enter, without further delay, 
 on his great design in this second part ; an exposition of the 
 sublime scheme the gospel reveals for the restitution of the 
 now desolate " Temple " of Deity. 
 
 By way of appropriate introduction, he calls us first to con- 
 template this " Temple in Ruins." 
 
 The depravity of man he proves from the testimonies of 
 Scripture, and from the actual and notorious condition of the 
 whole race. He confirms his reasoning by many striking 
 passages from the works of heathen writers : and here his 
 extensive acquaintance with ancient philosophy is displayed 
 to great advantage. 
 
 The close of this chapter is undoubtedly the most eloquent 
 portion in the whole work. In the frequently quoted and me- 
 morable passage, in which he describes the human soul in 
 ruins, there is not only beauty in the conceptions, and great 
 power of expression, but a mournful rhythm in the sentences,
 
 292 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 exquisitely adapted to the sentiments, and contrasting strongly 
 with our author's too frequent ruggedness. For example : 
 
 " That he hath withdrawn himself, and left this his temple 
 desolate, we have many sad and plain proofs before us. The 
 stately ruins are visible to every age, and bear in their fronts 
 (yet extant) this doleful inscription : ' HERE GOD ONCE DWELT/ 
 Enough appears of the admirable frame and structure of the 
 soul of man to show the Divine presence did sometime reside 
 in it ; more than enough of vicious deformity to proclaim he 
 is now retired and gone. The lamps are extinct ; the altar 
 overturned : the light and love are now vanished, which did the 
 one shine with so heavenly brightness, the other burn with 
 so pious fervour. . . . Look upon the fragments of 
 that curious sculpture, which once adorned the palace of that 
 great king; the relics of common nations; the lively prints 
 of some undefaced truth ; the fair ideas of things ; the yet 
 legible precepts that relate to practice. Behold ! with what 
 accuracy the broken pieces show these to have been engraven 
 by the finger of God ; and how they now lie torn and scat- 
 tered, one in this dark corner, another in that, buried in heaps 
 of dirt and rubbish. There is not now a system, an entire 
 table of coherent truths to be found, or a frame of holiness, 
 but some shivered parcels. And if any, with great toil and 
 labour, apply themselves to draw out here one piece, and there 
 another, and set them together, they serve rather to show how 
 exquisite the Divine workmanship was in the original composi- 
 tion, than for present use to the excellent purposes for which 
 the whole was first designed. . . . You come amidst 
 all this confusion as into the ruined palace of some great 
 prince, in which you see here the fragments of a noble pillar, 
 there the shattered pieces of some curious imagery, and all 
 lying neglected and useless amongst heaps of dirt. He that 
 invites you to take a view of the soul of man gives you but 
 such another prospect, and doth but say to you, c Behold the 
 desolation ! All things rude and waste/ So that, should there 
 be any pretence to the Divine presence, it might be said : ' If 
 God be here, why is it thus?' The faded glory, the dark- 
 ness, the disorder, the impurity, the decayed state in all re- 
 spects of this temple, too plainly show the great inhabitant is 
 gone. . . ." 
 
 Many other passages, however, are almost equally impres-
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 293 
 
 sive and eloquent ; what, for example, can be more beautiful 
 than the following description of that glorious felicity to which 
 man was originally destined and invited ? 
 
 " It was a most delectable and pleasant state, to be separated 
 to the entertainment of the Divine presence ; that, as soon as 
 man could first open his eyes, and behold the light and glory 
 of this new-made world, the great Lord and Author of it 
 should present himself, and say, ' Thou shalt be mine/ How 
 grateful a welcome into being ! ' Thee, above all my works, 
 which thou beholdest, I choose out for myself. Thine em- 
 ployment shall be no laborious, painful drudgery ; unless it can 
 be painful to receive the large communications of immense 
 goodness, light, life, and love, that shall, of their own accord, 
 be perpetually flowing in upon thee ! Whatsoever thou 
 espiest besides, that is even most excellent and pleasant to 
 thy sense, is yet inferior to thee, and insufficient for thy satis- 
 faction and highest delight, and but the faint shadow of that 
 substantial fulness which I myself will be unto thee.'" 
 
 The remaining chapters are entirely taken up in the prosecu- 
 tion of his main object an exposition of the great system of 
 moral restitution which Infinite Wisdom and Benevolence have 
 devised. No reader can fail to be impressed with the clear- 
 ness, the comprehensiveness, and the self-consistency of 
 Howe's doctrinal views, the thorough knowledge he seems 
 to possess not only of the peculiarities of the gospel system, 
 taken separately, but of their mutual coherence and harmony, 
 and of the manner in which they severally conspire to the 
 attainment of those sublime purposes for which they were 
 revealed. On such topics as these he loved to expatiate. 
 
 The most striking and valuable portions of these chapters 
 are, his description of the Incarnate Messiah ; his acute defence 
 of the doctrine of the atonement, in reply to the oft-reiterated 
 charge, that it is inconsistent with equity ; * his delineation 
 
 * In the following passage he forcibly puts the argument that to account for 
 the sufferings of the perfectly holy and innocent Messiah is made abundantly 
 more difficult by denying the Atonement. " The loud clamours wherewith some 
 later contenders have filled the Christian world on this subject make it fitting 
 to say something of it, and the thing itself needs not that we say much. We 
 do know that the innocent Son of God was crucified ; we know it was by God's
 
 294 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of the character of Christ, as the archetype of the character to 
 which that of every Christian must ultimately correspond, or 
 the model-temple, in harmony with which every other temple 
 of the heart is to be reared; his exposition of the necessity of 
 spiritual influences ; of the laws and methods by which they 
 are dispensed ; and of the manner in which they conspire with 
 all the moral means and instruments with which Divine 
 Wisdom has been pleased to associate them. 
 
 Throughout this noble performance, as well as in all his 
 other writings, Howe abundantly justifies the remark of 
 Calamy, that he did not consider " religion so much a system 
 of doctrines, as a Divine discipline, to reform the heart and 
 life." His practical views of its nature and design are per- 
 petually manifesting, I had almost said, obtruding themselves. 
 That, at least, is the word I should have used, if the introduc- 
 tion of such topics could, in such works, have been at any time 
 inappropriate. Even amidst the most purely speculative and 
 disquisitory portions of the " First Part," he is perpetually in- 
 terspersing important practical reflections, and reminding the 
 reader that speculative truth is of value only as it tends to 
 form the heart to virtue. 
 
 He concludes the work with referring his readers to the 
 three sermons on " Self-dedication" and on "Yielding our- 
 selves to God ; " which, indeed, though published on very 
 different occasions, and at distant periods, form a sort of con- 
 tinuation of the subject. 
 
 The treatise of " Delighting in God/' though largely infected 
 with the vices of Howe's style and manner, is one of the most 
 valuable works on practical religion in our language. It is 
 
 determinate counsel ; we know it was for the sins of men, which the adversaries, 
 in a laxer and less significant sense, deny not, though it must by no means be 
 understood, say they, as a punishment of those sins ; we know many of those 
 sinners do finally escape deserved punishment. The truth of these things, in 
 fact, is disputed on neither side. All these, then, are acknowledged reconcilable 
 and consistent with the justice of God. What then is to be inferred? Not that 
 the things are not so ; for that they are is acknowledged on all hands. What 
 then ? That God is unjust ? Will their zeal for the expiation of God's justice 
 admit of this ? No : but it is only unjust, ' to count this suffering of his Sou 
 a punishment.' That is, it is unjust he should suffer for a valuable and neces- 
 sary purpose ; not, that he should suffer needlessly, or for no purpose that might 
 not have been served without it ! "
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 295 
 
 founded on those words of the Psalmist, " Delight thyself also 
 in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart." 
 
 Like the " Living Temple," it is divided into two parts. 
 The first explains the import of the precept ; the second en- 
 forces the practice of it. 
 
 He introduces the work by a clear and forcible statement of 
 the great relations which the Divine Being sustains to the 
 renewed soul of man as " a Lord to be obeyed, and a 
 Portion to be enjoyed," and of the " sufficiency and com- 
 municableness of that good," which, more especially under 
 the latter of these aspects, He cannot but impart. He then 
 enters at large into the nature of that " Divine communica- 
 tion" (in itself accompanied with " delight") which must 
 render God an object of delight, and on which, as respects 
 depraved and fallen man, the very susceptibility of such 
 delight depends. This topic he copiously treats under the 
 following heads. The communication implies, he tells us, I. 
 " An inwardly enlightening revelation of God to the mind." 
 II. " A transforming impression of his image/' III. " The 
 manifestation of the Divine love to the soul in particular." 
 
 Under the first of these heads, he has some just and philo- 
 sophical observations on the far greater influence which even 
 the most limited knowledge of religious truth will exert on a 
 devout and pious mind, than the most accurate religious know- 
 ledge on the most comprehensive intellect, if destitute of real 
 piety. He shows, that the greater vividness of conception, 
 consequent on a moral renovation of heart, will impart a power 
 to truths imperfectly understood, of which the clearest and 
 most capacious understanding, without such Divine prepara- 
 tion, can know nothing. 
 
 In this part of the work he has the following striking obser- 
 vations on the difference of vividness between the intellectual 
 apprehension and the moral appreciation of religious truths. 
 " There is a certain acceptableness in some truths (necessary 
 toltheir being received in the love thereof), which is peculiarly 
 so represented to some as that their apprehension is clear and 
 vivid beyond that of other men ; who, however they have a 
 representation of the same things, yet have not the same re-
 
 296 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 presentation." He then illustrates the obstruction which a 
 depraved heart presents to the due apprehension of practical 
 truth, by a magnificent image in fact, an image identical 
 with that by which Burke illustrates the condition of atheists : 
 yet how feeble is Howe's expression in comparison ! " God/' 
 says Burke, " never presents himself to their thoughts but to 
 menace and alarm them. They cannot strike the sun out of 
 heaven, but they are able to raise a smouldering smoke that 
 obscures him from their own eyes." The expression in Howe 
 is less worthy of the thought ; but we must (as I have said) 
 learn to look at his thoughts abstracted from the graces of 
 language. The passage is as follows : " For a vicious prejudice 
 blinds their eyes ; their corrupt inclinations and rotten hearts 
 send up a malignant, dark, and clammy fog and vapour, and 
 cast so black a cloud upon these bright things, that their ten- 
 dency and design is not perceived. . . . Against which 
 poisonous cloud God's own glorious revelation directs its 
 beams, dissolves its gross consistency, scatters its dark- 
 ness. . . ." 
 
 Under the second of the above heads, he enters largely on 
 two of his most favourite topics, the great transformation 
 which passes on the spirit of the Christian man, and on the 
 delight which that transformation necessarily brings with it. 
 With characteristic rapture he dwells on the extent of this 
 transforming influence ; as diffusive over the whole nature of 
 man ; as affecting all the principles and passions of the soul ; 
 as "rectifying" us in relation to God, to ourselves, and to our 
 fellow-creatures. 
 
 Under the third of the above heads, he tells us, that he does 
 not mean any " enthusiastical assurance;" or "such a testifi- 
 cation of the love of God to the soul, as excludes any reference 
 to an external revelation, or the exercise of our own en- 
 lightened reason and judgment thereupon ; or wherein these 
 are of no use, nor have subservience thereto:" but "such a 
 manifestation as is always in accordance with the Divine word, 
 and ordinarily employs that as its instrument." He denies, 
 however, that it can be proved that " God never doth im- 
 mediately testify his own special love to holy souls, without
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 297 
 
 the intervention of some part of his external word, made use 
 of as a present instrument to that purpose, or that he always 
 doth it in the way of methodical reasonings thereupon." His 
 observations on this subject are exceedingly cautious and 
 modest, and contain nothing at which sober piety or sound 
 philosophy can be in the slightest degree justly offended. 
 
 The whole of the remarks on the latter part of this head are 
 full of genuine Christian philosophy. They are far too long 
 to insert, but are well worthy of the devout and attentive 
 perusal of every Christian. 
 
 Having thus largely insisted on these Divine communica- 
 tions (themselves attended with delight), which are necessary 
 to render God an object of delight to man, and man suscep- 
 tible of taking delight in God, he proceeds to explain the 
 nature of the delight itself. This delight, in a phraseology 
 not very perspicuous, though the thought itself is beautiful, 
 and is beautifully illustrated, he divides into " explicit" and 
 implicit;" the former he considers as consisting in direct acts 
 of contemplation, and communion with God ; the latter, as 
 latently insinuating itself into all the movements of the soul ; 
 accompanying the exercise of all its faculties ; " lying folded 
 up," as he powerfully expresses it, "in acts and dispositions 
 which have another more principal design ; " and spreading 
 and diffusing a gladdening and happy influence over the whole 
 contexture of the Christian's occupations and enjoyments. 
 
 The Second Part, as already said, treats of the practice of 
 the precept enjoined in the text. 
 
 In conformity with his explanation of the twofold nature of 
 the delight itself <( as explicit and implicit," he tells us, that 
 he shall treat the practice and exercise of delight as " a thing 
 adherent to the other duties of religion, and as a distinct duty 
 of itself." 
 
 Under the former of these, he insists at great length on the 
 following points, that " we are not to rest, or let our practice 
 terminate, in any religion which is not naturally and in itself 
 delightful; and are to seek after and improve in that which is." 
 After laying down some rules for directing our judgment on 
 the subject, he gives a masterly delineation of various kinds
 
 298 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 of spurious religion, as indicated by the absence of that great 
 quality of delight which must ever characterize the true ; and, 
 in a series of very impressive reflections, rebukes the folly of 
 resting in any such systems of religion. 
 
 In this part of the treatise occur some observations which 
 remind one of the celebrated passage in which Butler shows 
 that " going over the theory of virtue in one's thoughts, talk- 
 ing well and drawing fine pictures of it, is so far from neces- 
 sarily or certainly conducing to form a habit of it in him who 
 thus employs himself, that it may harden the mind in a con- 
 trary course." Similarly, Howe shows that the " delight" 
 taken in a merely " notional" or speculative apprehension of 
 religious truth is not only most perverse, but full of danger. 
 
 "That religion," he says, "is not duly delightful which 
 consists wholly in revolving in one's own mind the notions 
 that belong to religion, without either the experience or the 
 design and expectation of having the heart and conversation 
 formed according to them. So the case is with such as 
 content themselves to yield the principles of religion true, 
 and behold with a notional assent and approbation the con- 
 nexion and agreement of one thing with another, but do never 
 consider the aim and tendency of the whole. 
 
 " When this is never considered, but men do only know, 
 that they may know, and are never concerned further about 
 the great things of God than only to take notice that such 
 things there are offered to their view which carry with them 
 the appearance of truth, but mind them no more than the 
 affairs of Utopia, or the world in the moon ; what delight is 
 taken in this knowledge is surely most perverse. There is a 
 pleasure indeed in knowing things, and in apprehending the 
 coherence of one truth with another ; but he that shall allow 
 himself to speculate only about things wherein his life is con- 
 cerned, and shall entertain himself with delight in agitating 
 his mind in certain curious general notions concerning a 
 disease or a crime that threatens him with present death, or 
 what might be a remedy or a defence in such a case, without 
 any thought of applying such things to his own case, or that 
 the case is his own, one may say of such pleasure, " it is mad," 
 or of this delight, "what doth it?" Or he that only surfeits 
 his eye with beholding the food he is to live by, and who in
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 299 
 
 the meantime languishes in the want of appetite, and a sickly 
 loathing of his proper nutriment ; surely such a one hath a 
 pleasure that no sober man would think worth the having. 
 And the more any one doth only notionally know in the matters 
 of religion, so as that the temper of his spirit remains alto- 
 gether unsuitable and opposite to the design and tendency of 
 the things known, the more he hath lying ready to come in 
 judgment against him ; and if, therefore, he count the things 
 excellent which he knows, and only pleases himself with his 
 own knowledge of them, it is but a like case as if a man 
 should be much delighted to behold his own condemnation 
 written in a fair and beautiful hand ; or, as if one should be 
 pleased with the glittering of that sword which is directed 
 against his own heart, and must be the present instrument of 
 death to him. And so little pleasant is the case of such a 
 person in itself, who thus satisfies his own curiosity with the 
 concernments of eternal life and death, that any serious person 
 would tremble on his behalf at that wherein he takes pleasure, 
 and apprehend just horror in that state of the case whence he 
 draws matter of delight." 
 
 The latter part of the treatise, in which he insists on the 
 " practice and exercise of delight, considered as a distinct 
 duty in itself," is wholly hortatory. Much of it is conceived 
 in the noblest spirit of hallowed eloquence ; especially the 
 passage in which, while inciting professed Christians to aspire 
 to a more heartfelt and vivid enjoyment in religion, he calls 
 them to contemplate the devout raptures with which the saints 
 of old were wont to kindle, and to contrast with those exhibi- 
 tions of almost seraphic ardour the cold and languid devotions 
 of the generality of Christians. 
 
 Near the close of the work occurs a striking image, which 
 has probably unconsciously suggested a beautiful sentence in 
 one of Archer Butler's sermons. Speaking of the duty of 
 cherishing humility as a condition of the soul's communion 
 with God, Howe says, "His Might and glory' shine with 
 great lustre in the eyeS of such a one, while there is not a 
 nearer imagined lustre to vie therewith ; stars are seen at noon 
 by them that descend low into a deep pit/' The parallel image 
 in Archer Butler occurs in his " Sermon on the Syro-phoBni-
 
 300 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 cian Woman." " Men, from deep places, can see the stars at 
 noonday, and from the utter depths of her self-abasement she 
 catches the whole blessed mystery of heaven. Like St. Paul's 
 Christian, 'in having nothing she possesses all things/" 
 
 This work is, beyond most others, even of Howe, dis6gured 
 by minute division and subdivision. There is hardly a single 
 page that is not broken up into two or three formal heads. 
 This, together with the meagreness of expression and rugged- 
 ness of style, renders it almost as repulsive in manner as it is 
 valuable in matter. But the thoughts will well repay the 
 patience expended on a careful perusal. 
 
 " The Blessedness of the Righteous/' first published in 
 1668, was ushered into the world by a recommendatory preface 
 from Richard Baxter. Though the work is seriously disfigured 
 by the same fault of intricate arrangement, which detracts so 
 much from the merit of the treatise I have just noticed, it 
 evinces more care in the composition than almost any other of 
 the author's productions. This may perhaps be accounted for 
 by the fact, that it was his first important publication. On 
 this, authors usually bestow more care, since they cannot as 
 yet presume on their reputation. 
 
 The treatise is founded on those words of the Psalmist, 
 " As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness : I shall 
 be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness."* Like the 
 "Delighting in God," it appears to be the substance of a 
 series of sermons preached to the people at Great Torrington. 
 
 The first chapter is wholly introductory. It opens with some 
 natural reflections on the folly of supposing man created only 
 for the present life. They contain, in fact, the germ of his 
 noble discourse on the " Vanity of Man as Mortal," which, as 
 so closely connected with the subject of the present treatise, 
 was subsequently bomnd up with it. 
 
 The author next enters at some length into the criticism of 
 the text. His close examination of the various readings, and 
 of the different versions, gives a favourable idea of his talents 
 as an expositor of Scripture. 
 
 * Psalm xvii. 15.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 301 
 
 As this treatise is, in fact, a disquisition on heaven, the 
 character of its inhabitants, their preparatives for entering it, 
 and the nature of its occupations and enjoyments ; and as the 
 comprehensiveness of Howe's mind would not permit him to 
 leave any topic untouched which ought to be insisted on, it 
 would perhaps have been quite as well had he abandoned his 
 text altogether, and recast the whole discourse in a new form. 
 It would have facilitated a more natural and simple arrange- 
 ment, and would have prevented the attempt (in which he 
 imitated the frivolous ingenuity of the day) to find everything 
 in the text. 
 
 In the second chapter, he proceeds to distribute the princi- 
 pal topics of discourse. These are, the subject, the nature, and 
 the season, of the blessedness to which the text adverts. To 
 the consideration of the first of these this chapter is devoted. 
 
 The righteousness which is to qualify for heaven, he, of 
 course, affirms, cannot consist in sinless obedience to the 
 moral law, that being impossible to depraved man. He tells 
 us, " that it can be understood to be nothing but the impress 
 of the gospel upon a man's heart and life ; conformity in 
 spirit and practice to the revelation of the will of God in 
 Jesus Christ ; a collection of graces exerting themselves in 
 suitable actions and deportment towards God and man." This 
 part of the work contains some admirable observations on the 
 relations in which man stands to the moral law under the 
 economy of the gospel, and the position which that law 
 occupies in the constitution of that economy. He shows that, 
 while the gospel provides an ample remedy for man's violation 
 of the law, or his defective obedience to it, it still considers 
 that law as the rule of his conduct, and aims ultimately at 
 bringing him into complete subjection to it. 
 
 In the third chapter, our author enters on the second con- 
 sideration, the nature of this blessedness. This he represents 
 as consisting in " the vision of God's face, in the assimilation 
 to the character of God, and in the satisfaction resulting 
 thence." These "ingredients" he then proposes to consider 
 separately and in conjunction ; or the manner in which the first 
 contributes to the second, and both to the third.
 
 302 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 In treating of the " vision of God's face," he maintains the 
 probability that there will be some external manifestation of 
 the Divine glory adapted to the refined organization of the 
 glorified body. Such a manifestation, he justly observes, 
 cannot be imagined to belong to the " being of God;" but he 
 contends that it may serve as " some umbrage of him, as a 
 man's garments are of the man, which is the allusion of the 
 Psalmist in those words, ' Thou art clothed with majesty and 
 honour ; thou coverest thyself with light as with a garment/" 
 
 May we not, from the representations of Scripture, justly 
 conclude, that such an external representation of the Divine 
 glory will be afforded in the person of Him, " in whom dwelleth 
 all the fulness of the Godhead bodily ? " 
 
 He reasonably maintains, however, that what is principally 
 intended by the " vision of God's face," is the contemplation 
 of his attributes, as seen in all their harmony and beauty ; as 
 stamped on all his then perfect works works possibly studied 
 and inspected, not only with a far more penetrating glance, 
 but on a far vaster scale and under widely different aspects, 
 and as illustrated by that providence, the perplexities of which, 
 time, or rather eternity, will have unravelled : when the clouds 
 which obscure our vision shall have rolled away, and many of 
 the mysteries which now overhang the universe and all the 
 works and ways of God, shall fill the rapt mind with the pro- 
 foundest adoration, and dissolve it in ecstasies of delight and 
 wonder. 
 
 In this part of the work is introduced a long marginal di- 
 gression, in which he exposes, with just severity, the absurd 
 and presumptuous speculations of many of the schoolmen 
 respecting the nature and effects of the beatific vision. Such 
 speculations were equally offensive to his reason and to his 
 piety ; more especially when translated, (as he tells us they had 
 been,) by some contemporaneous writers out of the uncouth 
 dialect of the schoolmen into a more vulgar tongue, for the 
 benefit of " modern enthusiasts." 
 
 In the fourth chapter, he explains the nature of " that as- 
 similation" to the Divine character, and that perfect "satis- 
 faction" of soul, of which the text speaks. The former he
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 303 
 
 describes as a resemblance to God in every species of com- 
 municable excellence, whether natural or moral; but more 
 especially moral ; the latter, as that perfect repose of soul, 
 which must follow the enjoyment of perfect good, the fruition 
 of every hope, and the gratification of every desire. 
 
 The next six chapters the author devotes to an ample con- 
 sideration of the relation which these "three ingredients of 
 future happiness" hold to one another; or, the manner in which 
 the contemplation of the Divine glory contributes to an assimi- 
 lation to the Divine character ; and both, to the perfect felicity 
 of heaven. These topics, the practical influence which the 
 contemplation of moral excellence must exert on the habits 
 and dispositions of the soul, and the felicity which such a 
 transformation of character necessarily brings with it, were 
 particularly grateful to him. Here, therefore, we might expect 
 to find him at home ; and he has, in truth, amply justified every 
 expectation that might be formed of him. 
 
 In the discussion of the first of these topics, or the manner 
 in which the contemplation of the Divine glory tends to 
 produce a resemblance to the Divine character, he introduces 
 some most philosophical observations on a very favourite topic, 
 one which he had evidently often and deeply revolved, the 
 reciprocal action of the understanding and the will. 
 
 The happiness of heaven, so far as it will flow from the 
 "vision of the Divine glory/' he attributes partly to the 
 nature of the objects contemplated, embracing the whole circle 
 of the Divine perfections ; and partly to the very acts of the 
 mind, (then performed without sense of weariness,) by which 
 this contemplation will be carried on. 
 
 The blessedness of heaven, so far as it results from an " as- 
 similation" to the character of God, he illustrates by showing, 
 1st. What that resemblance " involves ;" a felicity arising 
 both from the resemblance itself and from the happy con- 
 sciousness that such resemblance is possessed ; and 2nd. By 
 what it " disposes and tends to ; " eternal union and com- 
 munion with God. 
 
 The tenth chapter treats of the season of this " blessedness." 
 Here he contends with the generality of orthodox divines, and
 
 304 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 in clear accordance with the whole tenour of Scripture, that 
 the soul enters upon its career of immortal felicity at the dis- 
 solution of the body, though the consummation of its blessed- 
 ness is reserved till the resurrection. 
 
 He has adduced the principal texts of Scripture which sus- 
 tain this view, and argues from them with great cogency. He 
 especially urges the words of the apostle when he expresses a 
 wish to " depart and be with Christ" as " far better." " How 
 strangely mistaken and disappointed," says our author, " had 
 the apostle been, had his absence from the body set him 
 further from Christ ! " It may be added, that if Paul did not 
 fully believe that to die was to be in conscious communion with 
 Christ, he would surely have preferred to remain in imperfect 
 communion on earth than dwell in unconscious slumber till the 
 resurrection. " But now," says Howe, speaking of the Chris- 
 tian's dying hour, "now is the happy season of the souFs 
 awaking into the heavenly vital light of God ; the blessed 
 morning of that long-desired day is now dawned upon it ; the 
 cumbersome night-veil is laid aside, and the garments of 
 salvation and immortal glory are now put on. It hath passed 
 through the trouble and darkness of a wearisome night, and 
 now is ( joy arrived with the morning/ as we may be per- 
 mitted to allude to those words of the Psalmist, though that 
 be not supposed to be the peculiar sense. It is now come into 
 the world of realities, where things appear as they are ; no 
 longer as in a dream or vision of the night. The vital quicken- 
 ing beams of Divine light are darting in upon it on every side, 
 and turning it into their own likeness. The shadows of the 
 evening are vanished, and fled away." He adds, " It is the 
 glory of a Christian to live so much above the world, that 
 nothing in it may make him either fond of life, or weary of 
 it:" a sentiment he frequently expresses in various forms; 
 nowhere more strikingly than in the words, " We ought to be 
 patient of the body, not fond of it." The brevity and point 
 are worthy of an ancient aphorism. 
 
 The remaining ten chapters of this noble work are devoted 
 to an extensive "improvement" of the whole subject. Those 
 from xiv. to xvu., but especially ihe last, are remarkable for
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 305 
 
 that close, earnest urging home of the claims of religion, that 
 faithful probing of the soul, which so often distinguishes the 
 Puritan writers ; which chiefly sprang from their being so 
 thoroughly in earnest themselves, and which still renders them, 
 in spite of diffuseness, tediousness, and formal divisions, among 
 the most valuable writers on religious subjects. Even the 
 most careless readers often find their earnestness infectious, 
 and more impressive than the manner of far more polished 
 authors. Seldom have the sophisms by which conscience 
 cheats and juggles with itself been more faithfully exposed 
 than in the seventeenth chapter. But they all contain passages 
 of impressive, and often impassioned, eloquence ; and indicate, 
 in every part, the exalted conceptions the author had formed 
 of that blessedness of which he had been treating ; the power- 
 ful manner in which the contemplation of it had already tended 
 to transform his own nature; the aspirations of soul with 
 which he panted for it, and his earnest desire that others 
 should partake it also. 
 
 " The Vanity of Man as Mortal" is closely connected with 
 the subject of the preceding treatise. It is founded on those 
 words of the Psalmist, " Remember how short my time is ; 
 wherefore hast thou made all men in vain?" It is a most 
 felicitous and original train of reasoning, the object of which 
 is to prove that, unless we suppose the nature of man im- 
 mortal, and that this life is but the initiatory scene of his 
 existence, we can imagine no adequate object for which the 
 present system of things was projected. He affirms, that if 
 we exclude the idea of a future state, there is nothing in the 
 condition of such a being as man, nothing in an eternal suc- 
 cession of such beings, which can render their creation worthy 
 of the wisdom and goodness of Deity, or, rather, which is not 
 inconsistent with both ; since, on such a supposition, a creature 
 would be formed totally unfit for the sphere to which he is 
 limited filled with desires which cannot be gratified endowed 
 with faculties which cannot be adequately employed and 
 capable of forming conceptions of a happiness which he is 
 destined never to realize. He conclusively shows, that none 
 of the forms of merely earthly good (even if we dismiss the 
 
 x
 
 306 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 consideration of their transiency] are at all commensurate with 
 the lofty aspirations and the boundless desires which fill the 
 soul of man. He further shows, that if we suppose religion 
 the prime element of good, the summum bonum destined for 
 such an ephemeral . creature, this would only increase the 
 difficulty ; since the Divine Being would be supposed to have 
 created a being expressly for pleasures which this world can 
 but imperfectly furnish, and for objects which can only be 
 realized by that very immortality from which he is debarred. 
 
 On the hypothesis, therefore, that man is merely mortal, 
 there would be an evident and lamentable disproportion 
 between the faculties with which he is endowed, and the sphere 
 he is destined to occupy ; an absurdity of precisely the same 
 kind, though it may not be so glaring, as if the capacities of 
 an angel had been deposited in some ephemeral insect, to 
 perish in the very day which gave them birth ! What would 
 this be, but a prodigal waste of the power of God, and a gross 
 reflection on his wisdom and benevolence ? 
 
 It is evident, therefore, that this hypothesis leaves this lower 
 universe an incomprehensible enigma. 
 
 Mysteries there are in the proceedings of Providence, what- 
 ever theory be adopted ; but in such a theory they are not only 
 multiplied and aggravated, they are rendered hopeless. The 
 very possibility of any solution is excluded. In the view of a 
 Christian, death is the period for which the solution of these 
 mysteries is reserved ; if there be no future state, it seals them 
 up in eternal darkness. 
 
 This species of argument (together with another, on which 
 this discourse does not touch I mean the necessity of some 
 great day of retribution) form perhaps the strongest proofs of 
 the doctrine of a future state which mere human reason can 
 supply. 
 
 I have made a brief extract from this noble discourse in the 
 preceding chapter. One or two more will not be unacceptable 
 to the reader. It is thus Howe combats the notion that the 
 acquisition of knowledge can be the adequate end of " man/' 
 if " mortal." After showing its limitation and its transiency, 
 he thus insists on the fact that " increase of knowledge is also
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 307 
 
 increase of sorrow," on which he descants in a spirit not unlike 
 that of Pascal, nor unworthy of him. It is, he says 
 
 " Increase of sorrow, both because the objects of knowledge 
 do but increase the more man knows ; do multiply the more 
 upon him, so as to beget a despair of ever knowing so much 
 as he shall know himself to be ignorant of, and a thousand 
 doubts about things he hath more deeply considered, which 
 his more confident, undiscovered ignorance never dreamt of or 
 suspected ; and thence an unquietness and irresolution of mind, 
 which they that never drove at any such mark are, more con" 
 tentedly, unacquainted with ; and also, because that by how 
 much knowledge hath refined a man's soul, so much it is more 
 sensible and perceptive of troublesome impressions from the 
 disorderly state of things in the world : which they that con- 
 verse only with earth and dirt have not spirits clarified and 
 fine enough to receive. So that, except a man's knowing 
 more than others were to be referred to another state, the 
 labour of attaining thereto, and other accessory disadvantages, 
 would hardly ever be compensated by the fruit or pleasure of 
 it. And unless a man would suppose himself made for tor- 
 ment, he would be shrewdly tempted to think a quiet and 
 drowsy ignorance a happier state." 
 
 The supposition that religion can be the designed end of 
 "man," if only "mortal," he rebuts by a most admirable 
 series of arguments, of which we have space only for a 
 fragment. 
 
 " To think every time one enters that blessed presence, f For 
 aught I know, I shall approach it no more ; this is possibly my 
 last sight of that pleasant face, my last taste of those enravish- 
 ing pleasures ! ' what bitterness must this infuse into the 
 most delicious sweetness our state could then admit ! And by. 
 how much more free, and large, grace should be in its present 
 communications, and by how much any soul should be more 
 experienced in the life of God, and inured to Divine delights, 
 so much the more grievous and afflictive resentments it could 
 not but have of the approaching end of all, and be the more 
 powerfully tempted to say, 'Lord, why was I made in vain ?' ' 
 
 On the spirit in which it becomes one really convinced that
 
 308 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 man is not " mortal" to conduct himself in this world of 
 shadows, he descants thus grandly: 
 
 " It can surely no way become one who seeks and expects 
 the ' honour and glory which is conjunct with immortality,' 
 to be fond of the airy titles that poor mortals are wont to 
 please themselves with ; or to make one among the obsequious, 
 servile company of them whose business it is to court a vanish- 
 ing shadow, and tempt a dignified trifle into the belief it is a 
 deity; to sneak and cringe for a smile from a supercilious 
 brow, and place his heaven in the disdainful favours of him 
 who, it may be, places his own as much in thy homage, so 
 that it befalls into the supplicant's power to be his creator, whose 
 creature he affects to be. What eye would not soon spy out 
 the grossness of this absurdity ? and what ingenuity would not 
 blush to be guilty of it ? Let then the joyful expectants of a 
 blessed immortality pass by the busy throng of this fanciful 
 exchange, and behold it with as little concern as a grave states- 
 man would the sports and ludicrous actions of little children, 
 and with as little inclination of mind as he would have to 
 leave his business and go play with them; bestowing there 
 only the transient glance of a careless or a compassionate eye, 
 and still reserving their intent, steady views for the f glorious 
 hope set before them/ And with a proportionable unconcern- 
 edness should they look on and behold the various alternations 
 of political affairs ; no further minding either the constitution 
 or administration of government, than as the interest of the 
 Universal Ruler, the weal and safety of their prince or country, 
 are concerned in them. . . . But that lofty soul that bears 
 about with it the living apprehension of its being made for an 
 everlasting state, so earnestly intends it, that it shall ever be 
 a descent and vouchsafement with it, if it allow itself to take 
 notice what busy mortals are doing in their as they reckon 
 them grand negotiations here below; and if there be a 
 suspicion of an aptness or inclination to intermeddle in them 
 to their prejudice to whom that part belongs, can heartily say 
 to it, as the philosopher to the jealous tyrant 'We of this 
 academy are not at leisure to mind so mean things ; we have 
 somewhat else to do than to talk of you/ He hath still the 
 image before his eye of this world vanishing and passing away ; 
 of the other, with the everlasting affairs and concernments of 
 it even now ready to take place and fill up all the stage; and, 
 cin represent to himself the vision, not from a melancholic
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 309 
 
 fancy or crazed brain, but a rational faith, and a sober, 
 well-instructed mind, of the world dissolving, monarchies 
 and kingdoms breaking up, thrones tumbling, crowns and 
 sceptres lying as neglected things." 
 
 Robert Hall, it is well known, was an enthusiastic admirer of 
 this discourse. He was in the habit of frequently preaching a 
 sermon on the same subject, and from the same words, which 
 he was often, but in vain, solicited to publish. On one occasion, 
 he replied to the importunity of a friend, by candidly saying, 
 " that he would find it all in John Howe/'' After his death, 
 the outline of this beautiful sermon appeared, from the copious 
 and accurate notes of the Rev. Thomas- Grinfield.* Most of 
 the thoughts, though not all, are in Howe's discourse ; and the 
 general resemblance throughout is most evident. 
 
 It is singular that, though this discourse of Howe's was 
 composed with more haste than almost anything that he ever 
 wrote, f it is perhaps, as a whole, the most eloquent of all his 
 productions. 
 
 The treatise on " Divine Prescience," was written at the 
 request of the Hon. Robert Boyle, and appeared, as I have 
 already mentioned, in 1677. It has also been mentioned, that 
 Wood, totally mistaking the great design of the work, repre- 
 sents the author as a " great and strict Arminian." I believe 
 many other persons, far more likely to be skilled in meta- 
 physical theology, have supposed that it is principally taken 
 up with some of the points immediately at issue between the 
 Calvinists and the Arminians ; whereas it is, in fact, an attempt 
 to solve a difficulty with which both parties, or at least the 
 moderate of both parties, are equally liable to be pressed ; that 
 is, all who admit, on the one hand, the absolute certainty of 
 the Divine foreknowledge, no matter what may be their hypo- 
 thesis as to the mode of that foreknowledge, and, on the 
 other, the responsibility of man, no matter in what they 
 make his responsibility to consist. That difficulty is, to 
 
 * Hall's Works, vol. vi. 
 
 t See an account of the circumstances in which it was produced, in the fifth 
 chapter.
 
 310 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 reconcile the certain foreknowledge of the Deity with his 
 wisdom and sincerity in employing exhortations, counsels, and 
 other moral means, to deter men from doing that which he 
 knows they will certainly do, or to induce them to do that 
 which he knows they will as certainly leave undone. With 
 this difficulty, it is manifest, that all who fully admit the two 
 great doctrines above mentioned, no matter under what modi- 
 fications, or by what variety of explication they attempt to 
 reconcile them with one another, are equally liable to be 
 pressed. In this respect, there is no difference between the 
 Arminian and the Calvinist, or between the Libertarian and 
 the Necessarian. The one, while he refrains from forming any 
 hypothesis as to the mode of the Divine foreknowledge, admits 
 its absolute certainty ; the other, while he contends that the 
 certainty of that foreknowledge depends on the infallible con- 
 nexion between moral causes and effects, admits the doctrine 
 of human responsibility. In other words, they alike concede 
 those two great doctrines, in which the difficulty Howe pro- 
 fesses to discuss, originates, and may alike avail themselves 
 of those profound and ingenious reasonings by which he 
 attempts its solution. None, in fact, are excluded from employ- 
 ing these reasonings, except those who, not being able to ac- 
 count for the certainty of the Divine foreknowledge on the 
 hypothesis of the absolute contingency of human actions, 
 divest the Deity of such an attribute altogether ; or those who, 
 being unable to reconcile the absolute foreknowledge of God 
 with the responsibility of man, represents us as the victims 
 of a resistless necessity. 
 
 To the first of these classes, such a book as Howe's would 
 be manifestly useless ; they do not need it ; they have already 
 got rid of the difficulty by a short but terrible process, which 
 leaves Deity shorn of some of his most peculiar glories. 
 Having stolen these Divine regalia, they can afford to dispense 
 with the usual guards upon them. To the second class, the 
 treatise must of course be totally unsatisfactory, since it is 
 manifest that nothing can vindicate the wisdom and sincerity 
 of God in exhorting and warning men to this or that course 
 of conduct, when they are but the impotent slaves of an inex-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 31] 
 
 orable destiny. They therefore, when consistent, deny that those 
 warnings and exhortations are intended for all mankind. 
 
 If any should be inclined to say, that, according to this 
 representation, Howe's treatise leaves the main difficulties of 
 Calvinism and Arminianism where it found them, this is true ; 
 but then he did not pretend (at least in this treatise) to offer 
 anything for their solution. He expressly disclaims any inten- 
 tion of ascending to those questions which would compel him 
 to discuss the modes of the Divine foreknowledge, or to 
 reconcile such foreknowledge with human accountability. All 
 that he says on the subject of Divine " predetermination" 
 also, is purely incidental, and solely respects his present inquiry. 
 Further he does not pursue the subject. 
 
 All that he denies, and all that it was necessary for him to 
 deny, are these two propositions; 1st, that there is no such 
 attribute of the Divine nature as foreknowledge, and 2nd, that 
 God, "being good and holy," should " irresistibly determine 
 the wills of men to, and punish, the same thing;" "that he 
 should irresistibly determine the will of a man to the hatred 
 of his own most blessed self, and then exact severest punish- 
 ments for the offence done." He took his stand on that point 
 where both parties were agreed, in admitting the absolute 
 foreknowledge of God, and the moral accountability of man. 
 
 It would have been deeply interesting, it is true, to have 
 had the thoughts of a man so acute, and yet so comprehensive, 
 so speculative, and yet so sober, on the difficult and long 
 perplexed points to which I have above adverted, if it were 
 not those very qualities, rather, which induce him to abstain 
 fi'om such discussions ; but we certainly have no right to 
 expect any such discussions in this little tractate. No one 
 could more fully explain the exact nature and limits of the 
 question he intended to treat. The very title at once shows 
 that his design is not to reconcile the attributes of the Divine, 
 with any properties of the human, nature, as, for example, 
 the absolute foreknowledge of God, with any hypothesis 
 respecting the grounds of moral accountability ; but to re- 
 concile the Divine character with itself to show that it is con- 
 sistent; to prove that the absolute prescience of God is not at
 
 312 LIFE OI 1 JOHN HOWE. 
 
 war with the wisdom and sincerity of his conduct. The title 
 is, " The Reconcilableness of God's Prescience of the sins of 
 men, with the wisdom and sincerity of his counsels, exhorta- 
 tions, and whatsoever other means he uses to prevent them." 
 
 The following is a brief analysis of the contents of this 
 admirable little work. 
 
 After having very clearly laid down the limits within which 
 he intends to confine himself, he proceeds to caution us 
 against the two-fold danger, of either attributing absolutely 
 repugnant and contradictory properties to God, or of hastily 
 determining that all are such which we are unable to reconcile 
 with one another. Neither are we to conclude, on a hasty and 
 indolent survey, that they are irreconcilable. The whole oi 
 this section is admirable. 
 
 Howe next proceeds to affirm, that none of those attributes, 
 the mutual harmony of which he is about to maintain, can be- 
 excluded from a just conception of the character of God ; that 
 his moral perfections require us to believe his sincerity ; and 
 his intellectual perfections, his wisdom and foreknowledge. 
 
 Before going further, he deems it right to declare in what 
 sense and to what extent he believes the efficacious influence 
 and determination of the Divine will necessary to the produc- 
 tion of human actions. It is necessary, he tells us, "to all 
 actions in themselves good and holy; but with reference to 
 other actions, he doth only supply men with such a power as 
 whereby they are enabled either to act, or, in many instances, 
 (especially when they attempt anything that is evil,) to suspend 
 such actions." With reference to " all wicked actions," he 
 denies the efficacious, irresistible determination of the Divine 
 will altogether. 
 
 As to the mode of the Divine foreknowledge, he declines 
 saying anything ; the discussion of this topic being foreign to 
 the present subject. He contents himself, therefore, with 
 asserting that the perfection of Deity requires us to suppose 
 that he possesses such an attribute. 
 
 He then proceeds to enumerate the principal arguments by 
 which he intends to meet the proposed difficulty. They are 
 as follows.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 313 
 
 He maintains that on the supposition that man is account- 
 able at all ; that is, that there are duties which he is called to 
 perform ; the Divine foreknowledge, let it be supposed ever so 
 perfect, cannot annul human obligations, there being no con- 
 trariety between them ; and, that as God is obliged to insist on 
 the performance of those duties, his foreknowledge can in no 
 way exempt him from the necessity of enjoining them. 
 
 This is in analogy with all our conceptions of government, 
 and is quite independent of the question of probable obedience 
 or disobedience. The civil governor is perfectly certain that 
 his laws will be in many cases violated and punishment in- 
 curred. If he could actually divine the individual culprits, 
 (as in many cases he may be morally certain of them) it would 
 make no difference in his conduct ; he would still give his 
 laws a universal promulgation. 
 
 Again : Howe contends that as one of the great ends of the 
 Divine " exhortations and counsels " to mankind is, to vindi- 
 cate God's own character as sovereign Ruler ; to display the 
 purity of his nature ; to impress the universe with the idea of 
 his inflexible justice and equity; and, it may be, to deter the 
 loyal inhabitants of innumerable worlds from conceiving, 
 through his silence, a disregard to his authority, or a di- 
 minished dread of disobedience ; it was right, on these grounds, 
 if on no other, that he should address to mankind such 
 " warnings, counsels, and exhortations " as he has done ; quite 
 irrespectively of the reception they might meet with, and even 
 upon the supposition that they would prove entirely futile. Now 
 he argues, as many of these great ends are attained, it cannot 
 be justly said, that it is inconsistent with the Divine wisdom, 
 to urge men to do that which he well knows, in many cases, 
 they will never do. 
 
 He further vindicates the Divine wisdom in issuing such 
 " commands, exhortations, and counsels," by arguing, that 
 though many to whom they are addressed will never comply 
 with them, vast multitudes will ; that with such design they 
 are issued ; that in order to effect it, such " commands, ex- 
 hortations, and counsels" were necessarily addressed to all 
 mankind, there being no possibility of avoiding this, except
 
 314 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 by making a distinct revelation of the individuals who would, 
 or who would not, comply with them; an expedient which 
 would have implied the total subversion of the present system 
 of God's moral government. 
 
 He then proceeds to vindicate the sincerity of the Divine 
 " counsels, exhortations, and commands " to all men. He 
 remarks, that there can be no doubt of this, with regard to 
 those who comply with them. With regard to those who do 
 not, he argues, that God is, in an intelligible sense, truly 
 willing that all men should be saved, and that it would be 
 really grateful to the infinite benevolence of his nature, if they 
 were all to accept the salvation which the gospel provides ; 
 but that, though he is willing that all should be saved on such 
 terms as the gospel offers, and in a method that harmonizes 
 with the intelligent and moral nature of man, he is not willing 
 that they should be saved at any rate or in any method. 
 
 Howe's sentiments on this subject may, I suppose, be 
 illustrated in a very familiar manner. A parent is truly willing 
 to reclaim a disobedient child, and to employ many apt methods 
 for this purpose. But there is, at the same time, a point 
 beyond which he will not go. He will not persist in his 
 beneficent intention at all hazards ; he will not compromise 
 his own character ; he will not expose his authority to the 
 contempt of the rest of his family ; he will not procure 
 obedience by concessions, which, though they might succeed 
 probably in a single instance, might fearfully weaken his 
 general authority. Now what is more common than such a 
 case ? Do we not often really desire to attain a certain object, 
 provided it can be attained only at a certain expense ; and yet 
 firmly resolve to forego it, if we find it cannot ? 
 
 Thus it is, Howe argues, with God : there is a sense in which 
 he really wills the salvation of all men ; and, in consequence, 
 has sincerely provided all those means of moral suasion which 
 are likely to operate on, a reasonable creature ; but that, when 
 men persist in refusing to yield to these, he resolves to do no 
 more, and leaves them to the consequences of their own 
 obstinacy. This, he contends, is his general conduct ; conduct 
 by no means inconsistent with the supposition, that he may
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 315 
 
 employ still " further and more efficacious means " for the 
 recovery of " some." The reasons which limit the employment 
 of those means we know not. 
 
 The ff Cairn and Sober Inquiry concerning the possibility of 
 a Trinity in the Godhead," was occasioned, as the title-page 
 informs us, by some "lately published considerations" on the 
 recent speculations of Wallis, Sherlock, South, and Cudworth, 
 on the same subject. 
 
 Many, who too hastily imagined that Howe's design was the 
 same with that of some of the above writers; or that his 
 object was to show the actual constitution of the Trinity, 
 censured as they justly might, had their opinion been well 
 founded the boldness of his speculations. But, in fact, he 
 had no such design. His object is simply to prove that the 
 idea of a Trinity involves nothing self-repugnant or con- 
 tradictory ; or, which is the same thing, that the Trinity is not, 
 as Unitarians affirm, an impossibility. In order to illustrate 
 his argument, he subjoins a particular explication of the Trinity, 
 which, while it includes, as he affirms, all that is essential to 
 the unity of Deity, excludes not such varieties in his mode of 
 existence, as are necessary to the supposition of a Trinity. 
 This explication, he does not pretend to say, is the true one : 
 it being sufficient only to show that it involves no contradic- 
 tion ; that it is possible. For since Unitarians are called on to 
 show the impossibility of a Trinity, any explication (no matter 
 whether the true one or not) which includes all that is predicated 
 of the Trinity, and cannot be proved self-repugnant or contra- 
 dictory, would show their argument to be fallacious. If a 
 Trinity could subsist in such a way, it might, for aught we 
 know, in other ways. 
 
 At the same time, he very properly contends, that even if 
 they were to show that his hypothesis did imply a contradiction, 
 its refutation would only prove that particular explication false. 
 The impugners of the doctrine would still be required to 
 prove that a Trinity was impossible in every other way. 
 
 That they are bound to show this impossibility, to show 
 that the very idea of the Trinity, howsoever explicated, and 
 under all possible modifications, involves a contradiction, is a
 
 316 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 consequence, as Howe maintains, of the clearness with which 
 the doctrine is asserted in Scripture. It is plainly taught in 
 many passages ; it is as clearly implied in others ; it manifestly 
 harmonizes with the whole tenor and strain of the inspired 
 volume, and with the only interpretation of which a natural, 
 unforced construction of its language admits. On the other 
 hand, its complete expulsion from the sacred page, requires 
 the most licentious and desperate system of criticism, and 
 leaves the sacred volume, considered as " a revelation " of the 
 few and simple doctrines of Socinianism, a mass of inscrutable 
 perplexities. Under such circumstances, Howe justly argues, 
 that nothing less than the most apparent necessity, the utter 
 impossibility of the truth of any such doctrine, could justify 
 us in denying it. No mere a priori improbability in the 
 doctrine itself which, indeed, it is admitted on all hands, is 
 entirely matter of revelation will suffice : those who deny it, 
 must prove its absolute, total impossibility. So that, in fact, 
 the question is, as to whether we are more likely to be mistaken 
 in deciding on the meaning of Scripture, or on the possibility 
 of a Trinity in the Godhead ? 
 
 One would think that, to a modest mind, the mere terms in 
 which the question is propounded would be sufficient to 
 determine it. In the one case, we are called to judge of a 
 matter to which we are fairly competent ; in the other, to 
 decide on a question which none but the Divine intellect could 
 grasp : in the one case, we have only to pronounce on the 
 meaning of a certain document, written in human language, 
 with all the appliances of criticism to aid us ; and, in the other, 
 invited to decide on a problem, the terms of which are possi- 
 bilities and infinitudes ! If those superior intelligences, whose 
 humility and modesty have kept pace with their knowledge, 
 because every accession to their knowledge has only disclosed 
 to them more of those illimitable regions of mystery which 
 still lie in deep shadow beyond them, could regard the spec- 
 tacle of human folly with any other feeling than that of 
 benignant compassion, what boundless merriment would it 
 afford them, to hear that the infinitesimal soul of man, lodged 
 in its prison-house of clay, had gravely pronounced on what
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 317 
 
 can be, and on what cannot be, within the wide realms of pos- 
 sibility ; and, above all, in the constitution of the Infinite and 
 Eternal Mind ! Unitarians, it is true, maintain that they have 
 proved the doctrine of the Trinity an impossibility and con- 
 tradiction, because it is admitted, that one cannot be three, 
 nor three one ; a brief and summary demonstration. They 
 must excuse us, however, for refusing to listen to this too 
 obvious sophism. What they are called upon to demonstrate 
 is, the impossibility that what is ONE in one sense, should be 
 THREEFOLD in another : that the Divine unity is not compatible 
 with any such distinctions in the mode of the Divine sub- 
 sistence, (though we need not be ashamed to own that we are 
 ignorant what those distinctions are,) on which the doctrine of 
 the Trinity may be rationally defended. 
 
 In the introductory paragraphs of the " Calm and Sober 
 Inquiry," Howe states his object with great clearness and 
 force. 
 
 After premising, that whatever conceptions we form of God, 
 that of necessary existence must be included, he proceeds to 
 offer some admirable and eloquent remarks on those pre- 
 sumptuous speculations with respect to the simplicity of the 
 Divine essence, which, originating in the schools, have done 
 so much to perpetuate error on this subject. 
 
 He then proceeds to his main object to unfold his theory 
 of the possibility of a Trinity. 
 
 I am spared the necessity of attempting an analysis of his 
 reasoning, since he himself has appended to his discourse a 
 series of " summary propositions, more briefly offering to view 
 the substance of what is contained in it." Those which 
 contain the leading principles of his theory are given in the 
 note.* 
 
 * " We have among the creatures, and even in ourselves, instances of very 
 different natures continuing distinct, but so united as to be one thing ; and it 
 were more easily supposable of congenerous natures. 
 
 "If such union w ith distinction be impossible in the Godhead.it must not 
 be from any repugnancy in the thing itself, since very intimate union, with 
 continuing distinction, is in itself no impossible thing ; but from somewhat 
 peculiar to the Divine Being. 
 
 "That peculiarity, since it cannot be unity (which because it may admit
 
 318 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 To the " Calm and Sober Inquiry," Howe appended several 
 letters, signed " Anonymous," originally addressed to Dr. 
 Wallis, and written in 1691. They are all explicatory of some 
 of the points touched in the treatise itself. 
 
 The " Calm and Sober Inquiry " involved its author in con- 
 troversy. He was compelled to publish two pieces in its 
 defence. The first was entitled, "A. Letter to a Friend, con- 
 cerning a Postscript to the Defence of Dr. Sherlock's Notion 
 of the ' Trinity in Unity.' " 
 
 The second was entitled, " A View of that part of the late 
 Considerations, addressed to H. H., about the Trinity, which 
 concerns the Sober Inquiry on that subject." These pieces 
 contain only a further exposition and defence of what he had 
 already advanced. 
 
 The " Redeemer's Tears wept over Lost Souls," is deservedly 
 ranked amongst the most valuable pieces of practical divinity 
 in the English language. It is founded on Luke xix. 41 : " And 
 when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, 
 saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy 
 day, the things which belong unto thy peace ! but now they 
 are hid from thine eyes." 
 
 The first part strikingly corroborates the remarks made in a 
 preceding chapter, on Howe's defects of method. The intro- 
 ductory paragraphs are, it is true, eminently beautiful : but the 
 division of the text, and the distribution of matter, are exceed- 
 ingly formal and needlessly minute. The first and second 
 topics of the discourse, moreover, are pursued to a far greater 
 
 distinctions in one and the same thing, we are not sure it cannot be so in the 
 Godhead) must be that simplicity commonly wont to be ascribed to the Divine 
 nature. 
 
 " Such simplicity as shall exclude that distinction which shall appear 
 necessary in the present case, is not by expressed Scripture anywhere ascribed 
 to God ; and therefore must be rationally demonstrated of him, if it shall be 
 judged to belong at all to him. * * * * 
 
 " It is not a just consequence, which is the most plausible one that seems 
 capable of being alleged for such absolute simplicity, that otherwise there 
 would be a composition admitted in the Divine nature, which would import an 
 imperfection inconsistent with Deity. For the several excellencies that concur 
 in it, (howsoever distinguished,) being never put together, nor having ever 
 existed apart, but in eternal necessary union, though they may make some sort 
 of variety, import no proper composition, and carry with them more apparent 
 . than absolute, omnimodous simplicity can be conceived to do."
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 319 
 
 length than they need have been. They consist, for the most 
 part, of a long, and, considering the main object of the dis- 
 course, a most disproportionate exposition of all those great 
 truths and doctrines which the gospel reveals, which " belong 
 to men's peace," and the knowledge of which constitutes " their 
 day." I have always regretted the disproportionate length 
 of this part. Many readers, I fear, have been tempted from 
 this circumstance, to throw the work aside, only half perused. 
 
 The concluding portions of the work are in his best style. 
 
 The descriptions of the fearfully narrow limits of that day, 
 which is to decide our eternal destinies ; of the possibility 
 inferred from the text that it may be over with men even 
 before the day of life is itself spent; of the obdurate, self- 
 infatuated state of those from whom the Spirit of life and of 
 peace is departed, never to return ; of the horror which the 
 bare contemplation of such a state should inspire-; are full of 
 terrific sublimity, interspersed with touches of the most sub- 
 duing tenderness. And how beautifully, after dwelling on 
 these dreadful themes, and inculcating those fearful lessons 
 with which they are pregnant, does he proceed to address those, 
 who suppose that they have already fallen into such a state, and 
 who, oppressed with this horrible imagination, dwell even in 
 this world on the confines of hell ! How reviving and con- 
 solatory are the assurances that the very doubts and fears 
 which torment such persons, their very jealousies, and salutary 
 misgivings of heart, are totally inconsistent with the sup- 
 position of their having fallen into a state of which torpor of 
 conscience is the most melancholy and fatal symptom, thus, 
 converting into hope the very suggestions of despair ! 
 
 I should think it unpardonable in a volume of this kind if I 
 omitted to point the reader's attention to the close of this 
 discourse. For profound yet simple pathos, pathos the more 
 affecting because so simple, for felicitous turns of thought, 
 and even for beauty of expression, it will bear comparison with 
 almost anything in the whole range of hortatory eloquence. 
 
 The concluding sentences are as follow : 
 
 " These tears show the remedilessness of thy case, if thou
 
 320 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 persist in impenitency and unbelief till the things of thy peace 
 be quite hid from thine eyes. These tears will then be the last 
 issues of even defeated love, of love that is frustrated of its 
 kind design. Thou mayest perceive in these tears the steady, 
 unalterable laws of heaven, the inflexibleness of the Divine 
 justice, that holds thee in adamantine bonds, and hath sealed 
 thee up, if thou prove incurably obstinate and impenitent, unto 
 perdition; so that even the Redeemer himself, he that is mighty 
 to save, cannot at length save thee, but only weep over thee, 
 drop tears into thy flame, which assuage it not, but, (though 
 they have another design, even to express true compassion,) do 
 yet unavoidably heighten and increase the fervour of it, and 
 will do so to all eternity. He even tells thee, ' Sinner, thou 
 hast despised my blood ; thou shalt yet have my tears. THAT 
 would have saved thee ; these do only lament thee lost ! ' 
 
 " But the tears wept over others as lost and past hope, why 
 should they not yet melt thee, while as yet there is hope in 
 thy case ? If thou be effectually melted in thy very soul, and 
 looking to him whom thou hast pierced, dost truly mourn over 
 him, thou mayest assure thyself the prospect his weeping eye 
 had of lost souls did not include thee. His weeping over thee 
 would argue thy case forlorn and hopeless ; thy mourning over 
 him will make it safe and happy. That it may be so, Consider 
 further, that, 
 
 " They signify how very intent he is to save souls, and how 
 gladly he would save thine, if yet thou wilt accept of mercy 
 while it may be had. For if he weep over them that will not 
 be saved, from the same love that is the spring of these tears 
 would saving mercies proceed to those that are become willing 
 to receive them. And that love that wept over them that were 
 lost, how will it glory in them that are saved ! There his 
 love is disappointed and vexed, crossed in his gracious intend- 
 ment ; but here, having compassed it, ' how will he joy over 
 thee with singing, and rest in his love ! ' And thou also, 
 instead of .being involved in a like ruin with the unreconciled 
 sinners of the old Jerusalem, shalt be enrolled among the 
 glorious citizens of the new, and triumph together with them 
 in eternal glory." 
 
 To this " discourse " is added an appendix on two points 
 involved in the discussion of the text ; " On the Blasphemy 
 against the Holy Ghost," and " How God is said to will the 
 salvation of those that perish." On the first of these he most
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 321 
 
 judiciously argues, that none have cause to conclude that they 
 are certainly involved in such guilt ; on the second, he insists 
 on the same views as are unfolded in his treatise on the 
 " Divine Prescience," and to these I have already adverted. 
 
 " The Redeemer's Dominion over the Invisible World/' is 
 the last publication which requires any specific notice. The 
 occasion on which the outline of this magnificent discourse * 
 was preached, has been already referred to. As it was one of 
 the last, so it is one of the richest and maturest fruits of our 
 author's genius. 
 
 It is founded on those words of the Redeemer, " I have the 
 keys of death and of hell." In a long and very able marginal 
 digression, he shows that the word " hell," is a very erroneous, 
 or, rather, inadequate translation of the original word, and 
 that it ought to be rendered, in accordance with its etymology 
 and more usual meaning, " the invisible world." 
 
 I do not think that any man who has any, even though a 
 faltering and inconstant hope that he is a Christian, and that 
 to him death will be but admission into heaven, can peruse 
 this discourse without feeling the dread of dissolution sensibly 
 diminished; nay, the grave itself rendered in his better 
 moods almost an object of desire and fascination. The de- 
 scriptions which its author gives of that invisible world to 
 which he leads our contemplation ; of its splendour and mag- 
 nificence ; of the felicity it promises and insures ; of the 
 plenitude of life which fills it, instead of the solitude and 
 silence, the darkness and desertion, with which our imagina- 
 tions are so apt to invest it; of that great and beneficent 
 Being, whom it describes as Sovereign Lord of it, who has 
 already passed into it by the same dreary path, who is 
 familiarized to us by intimate communion with humanity, 
 whose own gracious hand unlocks the portals which are to 
 admit us to immortality, and whose voice it is which first 
 
 * I observe Dean Trench applies a similar epithet to this discourse, which 
 for range, elevation, and nobleness of thought, well deserves to be so charac- 
 terized : " Howe's grand sermon on the Eedeemer's Dominion over the In- 
 visible World." Trench, on the " Authorized Version of the New Testament," 
 p. 21. 
 
 T
 
 322 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 welcomes the spirit to its resting place ; are absolutely ra- 
 vishing. On these themes, Howe seems to descant with a sort 
 of privileged familiarity ; as of a spirit to whom the scenery 
 of heaven had been already unfolded. Yet, glowing as his 
 descriptions are, they contain nothing to which a sober and 
 chastened judgment can take exception ; nothing at variance 
 with the reserve which the comparative silence of Scripture, 
 on all such topics, should impose on our speculations. 
 
 A few brief extracts we must find space for. 
 
 On the ultimate purpose of the gospel, its enfranchisement 
 of man from the dominion of sin, (and to suppose less would 
 be to imagine man "redeemed," without " any redemption,") 
 he has the following striking observations : 
 
 " Had it been otherwise, so firm and indissoluble is the con- 
 nection between our duty and our felicity, that the Sovereign 
 Ruler had been eternally injured, and we not advantaged. 
 Were we to have been set free from the preceptive obligation 
 of God's holy law, and most of all from that most fundamen- 
 tal precept, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine 
 heart, soul, might, and mind/ had this been redemption, 
 which supposes only what is evil and hurtful, as that we are to 
 be redeemed from this were a strange sort of self -repugnant 
 redemption, not from sin and misery, but from our duty and 
 felicity. This were so to be redeemed as to be still lost, and 
 every way lost ; both to God and to ourselves for ever. Re- 
 deemed from loving God ! what a monstrous thought ! 
 This had been to legitimate everlasting enmity and rebellion 
 against the blessed God, and to redeem us into an eternal hell 
 of horror and misery to ourselves. This had been to cut ofi 
 from the Supreme Ruler of the world, for ever, so considerable 
 a limb of his most rightful dominion, and to leave us as 
 miserable as everlasting separation from the fountain of life 
 and blessedness could make us." 
 
 So saving us, Christ " would save us to the eternal wrong 
 of him that made us, and so as we should be nothing the 
 better ; that is, he should save us without saving us ! " 
 
 On the composure with which the Christian should consign 
 himself to the disposal of him " who liveth," but himself once
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 323 
 
 died, and now has the " keys of Hades and of Death/' he 
 thus beautifully discourses : 
 
 " Do not regret or dread to pass out of the one world into 
 the other at his call and under his conduct, though through 
 the dark passage of death ; remembering the keys are in so 
 great and so kind a hand ; and that his good pleasure herein 
 is no more to be distrusted, than to be disputed or withstood. 
 Let it be enough to you, that what you cannot see yourself, 
 he sees for you. You have oft desired your ways, your 
 motions, your removals from place to place, might be directed 
 by him in the world. Have you never said, ' If thou go not 
 with me, carry me not hence ? ' How safely and fearlessly 
 may you follow him blindfold, or in the dark, any whither ; 
 not only from place to place in this world, but from world to 
 world, how lightsome soever the one, and gloomy and dark 
 the other may seem to you ! ' Darkness and light are to him 
 alike.' To him Hades is no Hades, nor is the dark way that 
 leads into it to him an untrodden path. Shrink not at the 
 thoughts of this translation, though it be not by escaping 
 death, but even through the jaws of it." 
 
 Among the reasons which may determine the Supreme 
 Disposer in the, to us mysterious, removal of " hopeful young 
 persons," in the blossom of their life and the promise of much 
 usefulness ; he assigns the following as one: and the expression 
 is as beautiful as the thought is impressive : 
 
 " He will have it known, that though he uses instruments, 
 he needs them not. It is a piece of Divine royalty and mag- 
 nificence, that when he hath prepared and polished such an 
 utensil, so as to be capable of great service, he can lay ib aside 
 without loss. They that are most qualified to be of greatest 
 use in this world, are thereby also the more capable of blessed- 
 ness in the other. It is owing to his most munificent bounty 
 that he may vouchsafe to reward sincere intentions, as highly 
 as great services. He took David's having it ' in his heart to 
 build him a house,' as kindly as Solomon's building him one ; 
 and as much magnifies himself in testifying his acceptance of 
 such as he discharges from his service here at ' the third hour,' 
 as of them whom he engages not in it till ' the eleventh.' 
 Moreover, ' the lustre of that virtue and piety which had pro-
 
 324 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 yoked nobody, appears only with an amiable look, and leaves 
 behind nothing of such a person, but a fair, unblemished, allur- 
 ing, and instructive example/" 
 
 On the extent of the " Redeemer's dominion" as Lord of 
 the Hades, the vast invisible world, he says, that it is a matter 
 of "duty in us, and for his just honour, to magnify this his 
 Prefecture." 
 
 " But it is no obscure hint that is given of the spaciousness 
 of the heavenly regions, when purposely to represent the 
 Divine immensity, it is said of the unconfined presence of the 
 great God, that even ' heaven, and the heaven of heavens 
 cannot contain him/ How vast scope is given to our thinking 
 minds to conceive heavens above heavens, encircling one 
 another, till we have quite tired our faculty, and yet we know 
 not how far short we are of the utmost verge ! And when 
 our Lord is said to have ascended far above all heavens, whose 
 arithmetic will suffice to tell how many they are ? whose m-ano- 
 graphy to describe how far that is. . . . And when we 
 are told of many heavens, above all which our Lord Jesus is 
 said to have ascended, are all those heavens only empty soli- 
 tudes ? uninhabited glorious deserts ? And they 
 that rest not night or day from such high and glorious em- 
 ployment, have they nothing to do ? or will we say or think it, 
 because we see not how the heavenly potentates lead on their 
 bright legions to present themselves before the throne, to 
 tender their obeisance, or receive commands and dispatches to 
 this or that far remote dynasty ; or, suppose, to such and such 
 a mighty star whereof there are so numberless myriads, and 
 why should we suppose them not replenished with glorious in- 
 habitants ? whither they fly as quick as thought, with joyful 
 speed, under the all-seeing eye ? But, alas ! in all 
 this we can but ' darken counsel by words without knowledge/ 
 We cannot pretend to knowledge in these things; yet if from 
 Scripture intimations and the concurrent reason of things, we 
 only make suppositions of what may be, not conclusions of 
 what is, let our thoughts ascend as much higher as they 
 can, I see not why they should fall lower than all this/' 
 
 There are a few minor pieces of Howe, of which my space 
 will not permit me to give an analysis ; but I may just enu-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 325 
 
 merate some of those which are most characteristic of his 
 genius, and most worthy of the reader's perusal. Among, 
 these I would specify his sermons on " Thoughtf ulness for the 
 Morrow;" "Of Charity in reference to other Men's Sins;" 
 and " On Man's Creation in a Holy but Mutable State." 
 Several also of the "Funeral Sermons" fully sustain his repu- 
 tation. They, of course, possess very different degrees of 
 merit ; but there is hardly one which is not worthy of attentive 
 perusal. Those for Queen Mary, Dr. Bates, and Mr. Fair- 
 clough, are noble productions, and will suffer little by compari- 
 son with any other compositions of the same kind. 
 
 It may be added that the funeral discourses of Howe have 
 one feature which distinguishes them very favourably from 
 most compositions of the same kind. They are full of vivid 
 and novel thoughts in the application. Consolation is not ex- 
 pressed in commonplaces of ordinary condolence ; nor counsels 
 and warnings, in the platitudes usually suggested by funeral 
 solemnities. The conclusion is in general full of turns of 
 thought which strike at once by their combined truth and 
 novelty, and is almost cheerful with animating hopes drawn 
 from the deepest experience that Christ had indeed vanquished 
 Death, and "brought Life and Immortality to light." This 
 feature distinguishes not only those two more memorable 
 sermons (or rather treatises) entitled " The Vanity of Man as 
 Mortal," and " The Redeemer's Dominion over the Invisible 
 World," but the funeral discourses generally; and on this 
 account they are worthy of attentive study by every preacher. 
 I am tempted to give a few brief specimens. The following 
 striking sentences close the sermon of his friend, the Rev. Mr. 
 Fairclough : 
 
 " Yea, and it may incline us to have somewhat the kinder 
 thoughts of this our meaner native element, and less to regret 
 that our earthly part should dissolve and incorporate with it, 
 to think what rich treasure, what shrines of a lately-inhabiting 
 Deity (now become sacred dust) it hath from time to time 
 received, and transmuted into itself. How voluminously have 
 some written of ' Roma Subterranea ;' of the tombs of martyrs, 
 and other excellent persons, as many of them were, collected
 
 326 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 in one little spot of this earth ! And if there were as particu- 
 lar an account of the more refined part of the subterraneous 
 London, much more of all places where just and holy men have 
 dropt and deposed their earthly tabernacles, how would our 
 earth appear ennobled, and even hallowed, by such continual 
 accessions to it, in all times and ages ! What a glorious host 
 will arise and spring up, even out of one London ! Is not the 
 grave now a less gloomy thing ? Who would grudge to lie 
 obscurely a while among them with whom we expect to 
 rise and ascend so gloriously?'" 
 
 In the following passage of the funeral sermon for Mrs. 
 Baxter he has the following original thoughts on the duty of 
 familiarizing ourselves with the idea of dissolution : 
 
 " Yea, and we should endeavour to make the thoughts more 
 familiar to ourselves, of spiritual beings in the general, for we 
 are to serve and converse with him in a glorious community 
 of such creatures; 'an innumerable company of angels, the 
 general assembly and church of the firstborn, and the spirits 
 of just men made perfect/ in a region where an earthly body, 
 remaining such, can have no place. Why do we make the 
 thoughts of a spirit, out of a body, so strange to ourselves ? 
 We meet with hundreds of spirits in bodies, and moving bodies 
 to and fro, in the streets every day, and are not startled at it. 
 Is a body so much nearer akin to us than a spirit, that we 
 must have so mean a thing to come between, to mediate and 
 reconcile us to it? Why are we afraid of what we are so 
 nearly allied unto ? Can we not endure to see or think of a 
 man at liberty, (suppose it were a friend or brother,) if we 
 ourselves were in prison ? The more easy you make the appre- 
 hension to yourselves of a disembodied spirit that is free, I 
 mean, of any terrestrial body, the better we shall relish the 
 thoughts of him who is the head of that glorious society you 
 are to be gathered unto; 'for the Lord is that Spirit/ the 
 eminent, almighty, and all-governing Spirit, to be ever beheld, 
 too, in his glorified body, as an eternal monument of his under- 
 taking for us, and an assuring endearment of his relation to 
 us." 
 
 In the sermon on Mrs. Esther Sampson, he thus reproves 
 that selfish sorrow which repines at the Divine arrest when laid
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 327 
 
 on those dear to us, and which, come when it may, is always 
 counted too early. Howe strikingly represents the unreason- 
 ableness of it by showing its contrariety to all the Christian's 
 professed hopes and aims, and by reminding us that if all had 
 their wish in this matter, heaven must remain an unpeopled 
 region, the great designs of redemption unachieved, and 
 Christ occupy his throne in solitude. 
 
 " It is little considered how opposite such a temper of spirit, 
 as commonly appears in us, is to the very design of all Chris- 
 tianity. For doth not the whole of Christianity terminate 
 upon eternity, and upon another state and world ? Now do 
 but consider the inconsistencies that are to be found in this 
 case between the carriage and temper of many that profess 
 Christianity and their very profession itself. They acknow- 
 ledge, they own, that the design of Christ's appearing here in 
 this world, and of his dying upon the cross, was to ' bring us 
 to God/ to ' bring the many sons to glory/ They grant 
 that this is not to be done all at once, not all in a day, but it is 
 to be done by degrees. Here he takes up one, and there 
 another, leaving others still to transmit religion, and to con- 
 tinue it on to the end of time. So far they agree with our 
 common Lord, and seem to approve the Divine determinations 
 in all these steps of his procedure. But yet, for all this, if 
 they might have their own will, Christ should not have one to 
 ascend to him of those for whom he died and himself ascended, 
 to open heaven for them and to prepare a place for their recep- 
 tion, as their forerunner, there. I say not one to ascend after 
 him ; for they take up with a general approving of this design 
 of his. ' Very well/ say they, ' it is fitly ordered, his method 
 is wise, and just, and kind, and let him take them that belong 
 to him when he thinks fit, only let him excuse my family ; let 
 him take whom he will, only let him touch no relation of mine, 
 not my husband, wife, child, brother, sister; take whom he 
 will, but let all mine alone. I agree to all he shall do well 
 enough, only let him allow me my exception.' But if every 
 one be of this temper and resolution for themselves and theirs, 
 according to this tendency and course of things he shall have 
 none at all to ascend, none ' to bring with him' when he 
 returns. Those that are dead in Jesus he is to bring with him. 
 No, he should be solitary and unattended for all them. They 
 and all their relations would be immortal upon earth. How
 
 328 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 ill doth this agree and accord with the Christian scheme and 
 model of things ! "* 
 
 The concluding sentences of this sermon, in which he 
 declares he would rather die alone than amidst the clamorous 
 sorrows of relatives who " despair of futurity/' are most 
 characteristic. 
 
 " In short, it were desirable, if God see good, to die amidst 
 the pleasant friends and relatives who were not ill pleased that 
 we lived, that living and dying breath might mingle and 
 ascend together in prayers and praises to the blessed Lord of 
 heaven and earth, the God of our lives, if then we would part 
 with consent, a rational and a joyful consent. Otherwise, to 
 die with ceremony, to die amongst the fashionable bemoanings 
 and lamentations, as if we despaired of futurity, one would 
 say, with humble submission to the Divine pleasure, 'Lord, 
 let me rather die alone, in perfect solitude, in some unfre- 
 quented wood, or on the top of some far remote mountain, 
 where none might interrupt the solemn transactions between 
 thy glorious blessed self, and my joyfully departing self- 
 resigning soul!* But in all this we must refer ourselves to 
 God's holy pleasure, who will dispose of us, living and dying, 
 in the best, the wisest, and the kindest way." 
 
 ' If," he says, in another place, speaking of those to whom we doubt not 
 " death is gain" " If God be pleased, and has happy creature pleased, who are 
 we that we should be displeased?"
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 No. I. 
 
 A FEW particulars respecting Howe's family and descendants : 
 
 It has been mentioned in Chap. II. that Howe's father was edu- 
 cated by Francis Higginson, of Leicester. An account of Higginson 
 may be found in Brooke's " Lives of the Puritans," vol. i. p. 372. 
 
 Higginson went to New England in 1629, with about two hundred 
 passengers and planters : some settled at Nehumtak, afterwards 
 Salem ; some at Massachusetts bay. 
 
 Whether Howe's father possessed the living of Loughborough, or 
 was merely curate, is a point that cannot be ascertained. Calamy 
 says that he was appointed by Laud, minister of the parish of 
 Loughborough. The living was then in the gift of Lady Bromley. 
 
 There is no authenticated list of the rectors of Loughborough. 
 In a book of miscellanies collated and written by the late clerk from 
 various parish records, is a list of rectors in which the name of 
 Howe does not appear. The list states "John Brown, 1597, 
 buried 1622-3. John Brown, 1623, buried Oct. 7, 1642." 
 
 In the register of our author's baptism (given below) the father 
 is mentioned as Mr. John How, preacher. 
 
 Probably he never was inducted into the living as rector, but was 
 appointed by Laud to preach in the room of the above John Brown, 
 who might, for some reason, be silenced for a time. 
 
 The following is the register of the baptism of two of his children, 
 that of his son John, the subject of these memoirs, and of a daughter ; 
 whether he had any other children I know not. 
 
 "July, 1628, Ann How, daughter of Mr. John How, preacher, 
 baptd. x day." 
 
 "May, 1630, John How, sonne of Mr. John How, bapt. xx day."
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 In both entries the final e is left out of the father's name. Indeed, 
 Howe himself spelt his name sometimes with and sometimes with- 
 out it, except in the latter part of his life, when he always spelt it 
 "Howe." Marvell, in his tract against Danson, always calls him 
 How. 
 
 The volume from which the register is taken is a very curious 
 one, and perhaps as old as any in the kingdom. It extends from 
 1538 to 1651. 
 
 A paragraph at the commencement intimates that it was begun 
 and kept " according to the command of our Sovereign Lord King 
 Henry the 8th." 
 
 The volume is parchment, much discoloured in various places, and 
 written throughout in antiquated but very legible hands. 
 
 Mr. Howe's marriage with Katherine, daughter of his intimate 
 friend the Rev. George Hughes, of Plymouth, took place March 1st, 
 1654. Several of his children were born in London during his 
 residence at Whitehall, but of the exact dates of their respective 
 births no information has been obtained. 
 
 His eldest son, George, studied medicine ; received the diploma 
 of M.D., and afterwards practised in London with considerable 
 reputation and success. He married Laetitia Foley, probably 
 daughter of Thos. Foley, Esq., of Whitley Court, in the county of 
 Worcester, who is honourably mentioned in Baxter's Life. He died 
 in March, about 1710, leaving two sons, John (the elder) and 
 Philip, who both died before 1729, without issue male. He was 
 buried in the same vault with his father, in AUhallows Church, 
 Bread- street. 
 
 Mr. Howe's second son was named James ; he studied the law ; 
 was of the Middle Temple, and was in due time called to the bar. 
 He married Mary, daughter of Samuel Saunders, Esq., of Little 
 Ireton and Caldwell, in the county of Derby, eldest son of Col. 
 Thomas Saunders, a military officer of some celebrity on the Par- 
 liament side during the Civil Wars. He practised his profession 
 with so much success, that it appears he acquired considerable 
 property. He died April 12, 1714, leaving three sons, John, 
 Samuel, and James. John, his eldest son and heir, was of Hanslop, 
 in the county of Buckingham. He attained the age of 21, about 
 1729, and married the Hon. Caroline Howe, daughter of the Rt. 
 Hon. Scroop Lord Viscount Howe. In 1754 he is described as of 
 Burrow Green, in the county of Surrey. He died in Sept. 1769. 
 
 Mr. Howe's third son was named John. No particulars are
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 331 
 
 known concerning him. Whom he married does not appear, nor 
 when he died ; but he left two sons, John and James. 
 
 Another son, named Obadiah, was born at Torrington, 1661, and 
 baptized at the church, April 21st, in that year. He probably died 
 in childhood or youth. 
 
 A daughter, named Philippa, was born towards the end of 1664, 
 and baptized at Torrington Church, January 4, 1665. She was 
 afterwards married to Mr. Matthew Collett, who held some situa- 
 tion in the Bank of England. When she died does not appear, but 
 she left two sons, John, the elder, and Matthew: the latter was 
 dead in 1754. 
 
 When Mr. Howe's wife Katherine (who was the mother of the 
 two last, and, I have no doubt, of all the children mentioned above) 
 died, there is now no means of ascertaining ; but that he married 
 again is beyond question. The date of Mrs. Howe's death, given 
 below, proves this ; and that she must have been many years younger 
 than Howe. James Howe, the second son, makes mention, in his 
 Will, of his own mother. Who was Howe's second wife is not 
 certain. 
 
 Mr. Howe's widow, as I learn from a letter printed in the " Diary 
 and Correspondence of Dr. Doddridge," died at Bath, toward the 
 end of February, 1743, at a very advanced age.* 
 
 No. II. 
 
 The following is Calamy's account of the treatment of John 
 Howe's father by Archbishop Laud : 
 
 " As to the father of our Mr. Howe, he was settled in the parish of Lough- 
 borough by Archbishop Laud, and afterwards thrust out by the same hand, on the 
 account of his siding with the Puritans, contrary to the expectation of his pro- 
 moter. He was one of those who could not be satisfied to give in to that nice 
 and punctilious conformity, upon which that prelate laid so great a stress ; and 
 therefore it was not thought fit to suffer him to continue in the exercise of his 
 ministry in that populous town. Great was the rigour that was at that time 
 used in the ecclesiastical courts, by which as several were driven into America, 
 and others into Holland and other foreign parts, so was this worthy person, from 
 whom Mr. John Howe immediately descended, driven into Ireland, whither he 
 took this his son, (then very young) along with him. While they continued in 
 that country, that execrable rebellion broke, out, in which so many thousands 
 of the poor Protestants, who were altogether unprovided, were so miserably 
 
 * " Mrs. How widow of the great and pious Mr. How, died here last week ; 
 a good woman and full of years, being near ninety." Letter to Mrs. Doddridge, 
 dated Bath, March 2nd, 1743.
 
 332 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 butchered, and a great number of nourishing families ruined and undone by 
 the enraged papists, whose very tenderest mercies were found to be cruelty. 
 
 "Both father and son were at that time exposed to very threatening danger, 
 the place to which they had retired being for several weeks together besieged 
 and assaulted by the rebels, though without success. A very special Providence 
 did upon this occasion guard that life, which was afterwards made so serviceable 
 to great and considerable purposes. Being driven from thence by the war, 
 which continued for some years, the father returned back to his native country, 
 and settled in the County Palatine of Lancaster ; and there it was that our Mr. 
 Howe went through the first rudiments of learning, and was trained up in the 
 knowledge of the tongues, though I have not been able to get any certain infor- 
 mation who were his particular instructors, nor any further notices relating to 
 his infancy and childhood." Calamy's Life of Howe, pp. 6, 7. These last 
 points are in part determined by the following article of the Appendix. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 The following is the extract from the register at Cambridge, 
 alluded to at p. 14. "A. Domi. 1647. Mai. 19. Johannes 
 Howe, filius Johannis p r .sbyteri, natus Loughborough, in agro 
 Leicestrensi, Literis v. institutus Winwick a M ro . Grorse, Anno 
 .^tatis decimo septimo admissus est sizator sub M ro . Field, &pon- 
 dente pro eo M ro . Ball. Solvit Collegio 5-." 
 
 No. IV. p. 31. 
 
 Here several pages of the former edition, containing remarks on 
 Cromwell's character, have been omitted, not only as irrelevant, 
 but as conveying a harsher judgment than subsequent study, and, I 
 hope, a larger charity, will allow me to express. At the same time, 
 I confess that the problem of the Protector's religious character 
 still seems to me, as to multitudes more, as insoluble as ever. When 
 twenty-five years ago, I published the first edition, I was not insen- 
 sible, and still less am I now, of the many illustrious qualities which 
 adorned this extraordinary man ; it was admitted that he was no 
 " mere fanatic," still less, a vulgar "hypocrite;" it was admitted, 
 as his apologists assert, that he did not " employ his power for the 
 gratification of malignant passions ; " that " his character will more 
 than sustain comparison with that of any other usurper ; " that if 
 " the gratification of his ambition seemed to be his first object, he 
 seems to have been really desirous to render his ambition subservient, 
 as far as possible, to the glory and welfare of his country ; " and 
 that " his conduct often indicates traits of magnanimity, clemency, 
 and moderation, which gild no other pages in the dark annals of 
 usurpation." All this I still believe ; but whether it be possible to
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 333 
 
 reconcile his career from 1647 to his death, his acts of violence and 
 dissimulation the acts by which he gathered into his single hand 
 the entire liberties of his country, and made and unmade constitu- 
 tions at his pleasure, with a then active religion, I confess very 
 doubtful. We are happily not called on to form any absolute 
 judgment in the matter, and should certainly abstain from any un- 
 charitable and presumptuous judgment on his final state. He may 
 have been sincerely religious in his early life, and before temptation 
 so severely taxed him, and he may have recovered from his lapse 
 before he died ; for even behind "the curtains of a death-bed," as 
 Cowper says, with no less charity than beauty, " there is often a 
 work going on, of which doctor and nurse know nothing." 
 
 While it is assuredly difficult to reconcile many parts of Crom- 
 well's conduct with the conscious integrity of a Christian, many 
 facts seem to forbid a harsh judgment. On the whole, the entire 
 phenomena seem best accounted for by supposing what experience 
 shows to be only too common in less illustrious men a mind warped 
 from rectitude, and a conscience partially silenced, before the in- 
 fluences of ambition and worldly prosperity. It may be said that 
 it is a narrow and vulgar way to judge the actions of such a man as 
 Cromwell by the ordinary standard of moral obligation, and that 
 political necessities must have their own ethics. I am sure that it 
 is still more narrow and vulgar to concede to great genius, merely 
 because it is such, an indulgence which we refuse to concede to 
 ordinary men. This is, in fact, that mere idolatry of power and 
 intellect which too often condones to the successful great the crimes 
 for which it would hang other people ; and which robs history and 
 biography of their most instructive lessons. In general, censure 
 ought to be more severe in the case of great minds; for superior 
 intelligence must increase, not diminish, responsibility. But, at all 
 events, in considering whether a man has consistently acted the 
 Christian, or been warped from his integrity, we are not at liberty 
 to employ any of the tortuous apologetics which have been so 
 usually at the service of splendid successes. 
 
 " The genius of Christianity," to adopt expressions in the for- 
 mer edition, " pays no deference to mere greatness ; it prescribes 
 exactly the same rules of conduct to all ; no power can terrify, no 
 splendour can dazzle it ; with sublime indifference to all that 
 bewilders and perverts the judgment of this world's too compliant 
 moralists, it considers guilt on the throne precisely in the same 
 light with guilt on the scaffold." It " refuses to set off the prac-
 
 334 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 tice of certain virtues, be they ever so imposing and splendid, 
 against the commission of great crimes ; " it is not disposed " to 
 palliate such crimes by alleging that, considering the circumstances, 
 they were not so frequent or so enormous as they might have been ;" 
 or "to plead any, even the most pressing exigencies, as an apology 
 for violations of the eternal laws of truth and rectitude. . . 
 Now the apologists of Cromwell sometimes forget this. They admit 
 he was ambitious ; but then his power was generally exerted for the 
 benefit of his country. He did often dissemble, but dissimulation 
 was better than cruelty. If sometimes arbitrary and tyrannical, we 
 are told not to forget the necessities of his situation, and are re- 
 minded that when he was cruel and unjust, it was only when he 
 could not afford to be upright and humane ; that he did not employ 
 his power for the gratification of the malignant passions, and, unlike 
 most other usurpers, was an economist of injustice and cruelty." 
 
 All this has been frankly admitted ; but it does not touch the 
 merits of the case in the one point now under consideration the 
 question of the religious character of Cromwell during the more 
 dubious parts of his career. It seems to me more candid, and more 
 accordant with probability, to say that whatever his real character 
 before that vision of the " weird sisters " which evoked his ambition, 
 or after the approach of death had shown the shadowy nature of all 
 ambition, his conduct in the interval can only be accounted for by 
 supposing that this " warld had got an ower strang grip o' his 
 heart," and dazzled and often blinded his conscience and his better 
 judgment. 
 
 No. V. 
 
 The following is an outline of the sermon preached before Crom- 
 well, " On a Particular Faith in Prayer; " referred to in p. 61. 
 
 The Notes from which Calamy copied were so brief, and the MS. 
 in some parts so illegible, that he has in some places attempted to 
 supply the sense by conjecture. His own remarks he has placed 
 between brackets. 
 
 James v. 15, the former part. "And the prayer of faith shall save the sick; 
 and the Lord shall raise him up." 
 
 It is to be inquired how this is to be understood and applied. 
 
 I. How to be understood. Where in the general we must know, it is not to 
 be looked upon as an universal maxim, admitting of no restriction or limitation ; 
 for then prayer might make a man immortal, if in every case wherein life were 
 in hazard any could be procured to employ their faith in prayer on his behalf.
 
 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 335 
 
 Unless we should say, that wherever the -desired effect follows not, the faith 
 was wanting, which ought to have been exercised in the case. To say that 
 every prayer that has faith in it shall save the sick, is false : hut that every 
 prayer that has this special faith in it, shall save the sick, is true. 
 
 That therefore we may speak the more distinctly, we must understand, 
 
 I. That there was somewhat in this matter extraordinary, and appropriate to 
 that time. 
 
 II. Somewhat ordinary, and common to all times. We are to distinguish the 
 one and the other. 
 
 I. There was somewhat extraordinary in this matter, and appropriate to that 
 time : and that both as to the faith to be exercised, and the effect thereupon. 
 
 1. As to the faith to be exercised. The prayer of faith shall save the sick; 
 that is, in those days, when the state of things did to the Divine Wisdom make 
 it necessary that frequent miracles should be wrought for the confirmation of 
 Christianity, faith was necessary to be exerted in prayer, that should, according 
 to tenour of the promise made in those times, engage omnipotency, in reference 
 to the thing prayed for : the promise then was, " Whatsoever ye pray, believing, 
 ye shall receive ; or it shall be done." 
 
 2. As to the Effect, that also was supernatural. 
 
 Ques. But it may be said, What ! universally ? What work might the disciples 
 have made in that case 1 
 
 Am. The Divine power did go forth in two ways. 
 
 1st. In working the faith to be exercised : And, 
 
 2nd. In effecting the thing. So that the matter was always in God's own 
 hand. The Spirit of God could be the Author of no vain or imprudent faith, or 
 of any thing consequent upon it. 
 
 This faith of miracles was such a fiducial recumbence on the Divine power in 
 reference to this or that particular work, as whereby that was by his rule engaged 
 to go forth, in saving the sick. This and common faith differ, in respect to the 
 end and the nature of the influence. Not holy, but physical. 
 
 II. There was here also somewhat that was ordinary. The instance of Elias 
 is mentioned, who, v. 17, 18, it is said, " was a man subject to like passions as 
 we are, and yet he prayed earnestly that it might not rain ; and it rained not 
 on the earth by the space of three years and six months. And he prayed again, 
 and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit." There is 
 somewhat from that extraordinary case to be learnt for common use, namely, 
 that what the promise says to us now, we ought as confidently to believe, as they 
 then, what it said to them. 
 
 Therefore take some propositions, concerning the nature and operation of the 
 faith to be exercised in such a case, and the way wherein prayer ought to be 
 managed and guided, so as that it may be expected to have influence in reference 
 thereto. 
 
 1. Prayer is a great and indispensable duty. [There is here some reference 
 in the manuscript : but after the utmost search I know not what to make of it.] 
 
 2. That therefore we must conclude, whatsoever tends to render it an im- 
 pertinence, must either be false or misapplied. For it is most plainly a great 
 part of our duty, and it could not consist either with the wisdom or truth of 
 God to have enjoined us such a duty, and have put energy incessant into the 
 nature of it in vain. We must therefore resolve what is doubtful by what is 
 plain. It is more plain that prayer is duty, and more known than what changes 
 the nature of God can admit. 
 
 3. The argument of God's unchangeableness would conclude as well against 
 the usefulness of any other duty, that never so directly concerns our salvation. 
 
 4. Prayer is to be considered, not only as a means to obtain from God what 
 we would have, but as a becoming homage of an intelligent creature. 
 
 5. Whatsoever unchangeableness we can suppose in the nature of God, [here 
 there is something added in the manuscript I can make nothing of, and then it 
 follows,] and is unreasonable he should lose his right by his perfection.
 
 336 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 6. Yet also it is to be considered as a means to obtain good things Job xxi. 
 16, [by which I suppose it was intended to be intimated, that it would be very 
 wicked language in any, to offer to say with those whom Job speaks of in the 
 text cited, " What is the Almighty, that we should serve him? and what profit 
 hall we have if we pray unto him ? "] 
 
 7. We are not to think prayer, though never so qualified, hath any proper 
 efficacy, to move God this way or that : not so much as instrumental. 
 
 8. It is only a condition upon which it seems good to God to put forth His 
 power. 
 
 9. It is a condition that hath not always equally certain connexion with the 
 thing we pray for, or other than the promise hath made. 
 
 10. The promises of God are, or must be, understood proportionably to the 
 nature of the thing promised : which may be either of such a nature as, etc. 
 [Here the sense is incomplete. I suppose that which may be meant, is, that 
 the things which God has promised, may either admit or exclude a change. 
 And then it is added] make men immortal. [That is, I suppose, as to this 
 present life. And then the manuscript goes on.] Things of a variable good- 
 ness cannot be the matter of an universal absolute promise, miracles, etc. 
 
 11. Prayer may yet be the prayer of faith that God will do what is best. 
 We should not make light of this more valuable object of faith. Suppose two 
 children ; which is the most privileged. [This, I apprehend, refers to the case 
 of Esau and Jacob, so often taken notice of in Scripture.] 
 
 12. If God will do the thing, prayer in reference to it is not vain. For per- 
 haps he hath wisely and rightly determined that he will not do it but upon trust 
 of his being acknowledged. This is a great piece of his sovereignty ; his 
 dominion and power over lives. " I kill, and make alive ;" q.d., God of every 
 life Universal Cause. 
 
 13. It is very absurd to think, it were vain to pray unless we were certain. It 
 contradicts the nature of prayer. For that supposes the thing in power of 
 them to whom we pray, and implies a referring it to their pleasure. 
 
 14. It must be submitted to him to judge what is most honourable for him- 
 self. It argues base thoughts of the invisible world, to think, etc., [that is, I 
 suppose, to think we should be able to keep people from thence at our pleasure.] 
 
 15. What if he had said, Pray not, [I take this to be designed for an intima- 
 tion, that had intercourse between an all-sufficient God and us, by prayer, been 
 prohibited, we should have been left in a very helpless and hopeless, miserable 
 and destitute condition.] 
 
 No. VI. 
 
 The following letter of Howe's I found amongst the MSS. in the 
 Ayscough. Catalogue, British Mnseum. As it has no date, and as 
 the circumstances and the parties alluded to are quite unknown, I 
 thought it better to insert it in the Appendix than in the body of 
 the work. 
 
 " For the Rev. Mr. Thomas Whitaker, at Leeds, Yorkshire. 
 
 " WORTHY SIR, 
 
 " I deferred writing back to yours, having, before I received it, made it 
 my request to friends at Newcastle, that they would return me copies of what I 
 wrote thither, or my own again ; whereof the haste wherein I wrote allowed me 
 not to transcribe any. I hoped they would have granted that request, which 
 had made my writing back to you easier, and, perhaps, clearer. I wish you 
 could obtain from them a sight of what I wrote, whereby you would collect
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 337 
 
 what I can now but summarily tell you, that I am very sure I did write nothing 
 tending to animate Mr. B*. to the course of dividing or disturbing that church 
 of Christ : which he was only invited and (by the common Christian rule) 
 obliged to prove. 
 
 "It being acknowledged to me, by some who are now grieved at his spirit and 
 conduct, that they had pressed him to be ordained, [I said] I knew not to what 
 office in the church they could mean he should be ordained, to which the power 
 of dispensing the seals of the covenant belonged not : that even constant feed- 
 ing of the flock by office was pastoral work : that I knew no reason why the 
 name of co-pastor should be scrupled, whereof the Christian church (even 
 primitive, as well as of later time) afforded frequent instances : that yet we were 
 too apt to amuse ourselves and one another about names, when about the things 
 they most truly signify it was less possible to disagree : that yet the word co- 
 pastors could by no means always signify equal pastors : that though the office 
 was the same, and could not be unequal to itself, yet in the acts and exercise 
 of that office, there might be, and, in some cases, ought to be great inequality. 
 That in this case, as much as any, there ought to be inequality, when the peace, 
 satisfaction, and consequent edification of the church depended thereon : that 
 some yielding to Mr. B r . was better than a rupture : but yet, if his terms were 
 grossly unreasonable, or opposite to the more general [sense] of the church, 
 and he were more for a breach than [healing] , I reckoned such an affectation 
 o f # * * * ^d so s i ur hi s character, and was so disagreeable to a gospel 
 minister, that I could not advise they should close with him on any terms ; and 
 that his absence was much more desirable. I pray God direct and heal you. 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " Your very respectful Brother in Christ, 
 
 " JOHN HOWE." 
 
 I have also copied from the MSS. in Dr. Williams's Library, a 
 long and very tedious letter, the whole of which, for the following 
 reasons, I do not think it worth while to insert. Baxter, it is well 
 known, wrote a recommendatory preface to the " Blessedness of the 
 Righteous." Before he allowed it to appear, he wrote to Howe for 
 a more full explication of his views on certain points connected with 
 the economy of grace, on which he had touched in the first part of 
 his work. As the sentiments which Howe's reply contains may be 
 foxind in the work itself, (indeed, he proposes that they should be 
 appended to the preface, from which they were probably transposed 
 into the body of the work in subsequent editions,) and as the letter 
 itself was written in great haste, and is in Howe's worst style, I 
 shall suppress by far the greater part of it ; merely inserting the 
 few paragraphs which tend to throw any light on his personal 
 history, or on his connexion with Baxter at this period. 
 
 " MOST DEAB AND EEVEKEND SlB, 
 
 "It is a renewed argument of your very condescending spirit, that you 
 yet detain so kind a remembrance of one, who am conscious to myself never to 
 have deserved any place in your friendship. Nor could you have expressed that 
 undeserved friendly respect by any more acceptable or endearing medium, than 
 in the endeavour of your late letter, that I may not in anything wrong the truth 
 or the church of God ; which I am the more concerned to be tender of, by how 
 
 Z
 
 338 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 much I am less capable of doing unto either any real or considerable service. 
 I did, indeed, some months since, intimate to my friend, Mr. Fairclough, then 
 in the city, (and by whom I treated with Mr. Thompson,) my hope, that if he 
 desired it, for the better sale of my book, you might be procured to recommend 
 the subject and design of it: and promised upon that supposition to write 'to 
 you for that purpose. But having since received a letter from Mr. Thompson, 
 wherein he said nothing of it, I had laid aside these thoughts, judging the 
 affectation of such a testimony, on my account, ought rather to be checked 
 and suppressed than complied with. Since I now find he hath applied himself 
 to you, and that you are pleased to discover an inclination to that charitable 
 office, I shall accept it from you with gratitude, hoping it may induce some to 
 the reading of it with the better preconceived opinion, and so with more 
 advantage. 
 
 " Your letter finds me in a journey, whence I cannot very speedily return to 
 my study, or have the opportunity of viewing what I wrote in the passage you 
 refer to. I remember not my words, but am sure those of Mr. Gilbert, (though 
 if he be the same, that wrote the animadversions on Dr. Owen's ' Diatribe de 
 Justif: Dei vindicate : ' I esteem him a man of much worth,) that no sins of 
 the regenerate incur the guilt of eternal punishment, and that Christ died only 
 to prevent that guilt, not to pardon it actually, is very alien to my settled 
 formed judgment. 
 
 ******* 
 
 " This is a hasty account of my thoughts in this matter, as indeed that was 
 in my book ; for I wrote them upon former apprehensions having heretofore 
 read ' Grot, de Satisf.,' with most of what you have published on any such sub- 
 ject, and divers others, but not for ten years before ; and had scarce any such 
 book at hand, nor had the opportunity of consulting any such at that time. 
 
 " If there be any difference in my apprehensions from yours, I conceive it is 
 very little momentous, and that the enclosed paper subjoined to my preface, 
 may serve to clear my meaning. I tender you my affectionate thanks for this 
 friendly advertisement, and your further offered assistance for promoting the 
 success of that poor labour of, Sir, 
 
 " Your obliged, though very unworthy fellow Servant 
 
 In the work of Christ, 
 
 "JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " Plymouth, June 2, 1668." 
 
 No. VII. 
 
 The following unpublished letter of Howe, written in reply to some 
 question of " Church order," propounded to him by a meeting of 
 ministers in the North of England, has been forwarded to me by 
 the Rev. James Turner, of Knutsford, who copied it from a book 
 in the possession of a gentleman in that town. The preamble to 
 the letter is not without interest, as illustrating in some measure 
 the proceedings of the Nonconformist " synods" of those times. 
 
 " The first meeting of ministers was in March, 1690-1, at Macclesfield. Dr. 
 Eaton began with prayer, afterwards the case relating to the gesture to be used 
 by the minister in the administration of the Lord's Supper was debated, there 
 being present, Mr. Sam. Angier, Dr. Eaton, Eliezer Birch, Thos. Kinaston, Jno. 
 Byrom, Stringer, Thos. Irlam, Jn. Sidebottom, G. Jones. Mr. Angier con-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 339 
 
 eluded, and another meeting was appointed to be at Lawrence Downs's, April ye 
 14, 1691. 
 
 " Then the case above-mentioned being before undetermined, was reassumed, 
 and Mr. Howe's letter, in the name of the London ministers relating to that 
 affair, read and approved of, and recommended to the congregation at Maccles- 
 field, as expedient to settle the matter, a copy of which here followeth : 
 
 " 'Sm, 
 
 '"A case was propounded this day among divers ministers which I was 
 (privately) told was yours, viz., that some of your society scrupled to receive 
 the Lord's Supper, otherwise than as having the elements delivered immediately 
 to them by your own hand. 
 
 " ' Two things in reference hereto agreed unanimously 
 
 " ' 1. That they might very lawfully and fittly passe from hand to hand, which 
 the rule forbids not; and (if we may judge by parity of reason) seems rather to 
 favour ; and herein the constant practice of the Church of Scotland hath long 
 concurred, and still doth. 
 
 " ' 2. However, that it being a matter of indifferency, you ought to offend 
 none herein, nor impose a thing not determined expressly by rule as a condition 
 of Church communion, and therefore to let such as desire it from your own 
 hand be placed near you (successively if not altogether, as it is the manner in 
 Holland to fill the table successively). This may be done with you if one table 
 will not receive at once all that are unsatisfied to receive otherwise : That so 
 none may be deprived of so needful a privilege needlessly, either through their 
 own weakness or the want of that indulgence thereto which their case may 
 require, and in this advice the brethren that were consulted formerly of both 
 persuasions, Presbyterial and Congregational, (though now there is no such 
 distinction with us,) were most unanimous, and it was left to be communicated 
 to you by 
 
 " 'Your affectionate Brother 
 
 " 'and fellow Servant, 
 
 " 'London, April 6, 1691.' " " ' JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " Afterwards the agreement of the London ministers was read over, and 
 ordered to be read again the next meeting." 
 
 The following brief letters, hitherto unpublished, have been pro- 
 cured from the Bodleian Library, through the courtesy of the 
 Librarian, Mr. H. 0. Coxe. The allusions in them are not very 
 intelligible. 
 
 " SIE, 
 
 " I have sent you inclosed the receipt you desired, and have no more (in 
 so much haste) to add, but to desire you to tender my most humble duty and 
 service to my honoured Lord and the excellent Lady Eussell, and represent me 
 to the worthy gentlemen as their humble servant, not omitting my hearty salu- 
 tations to Mr. Bingley, with my other friends, whom I gave so much trouble to 
 of late, among whom you had no little share, as you ought and have, of the 
 cordial thanks of, 
 
 " Worthy Sir, 
 
 "Your obliged affectionate Servant, 
 
 " London, May 26, '84." " J. HOWE. 
 
 (No address.)
 
 340 LIFE OP JOHN HOWE. 
 
 "BEVEREND AND WORTHY SlB, 
 
 " I hope you were going on some other account that way, when you called 
 at my house ; otherwise, you had not balked both the days on which I have 
 often told you I am never absent (unless on some very extraordinary account) , 
 Thursday and Saturday. H<zc per jocum. But to be serious. The person I 
 recommended for Preston will not be the man. As for Mr. Lorain, if you can 
 procure my Lord Stamford's recommendation of him to the Mayor of Preston 
 (into whose hands with some other, Sir Charles Hoghton hath devolved the 
 power of electing), it is likely to signify much. But herein no mention must 
 be made of Sir Charles, nor of 
 
 " Your .affectionate humble Servant, 
 "Feb. 23, ]f$. " JOHN HOWE. 
 
 " If my Lord of Stamford will be prevailed with, my Lord Duke's own 
 name will carry a great weight, if his Grace think fit to add it." 
 
 (Endorsed) "For the Eev. Mr. Thornton, Chaplain to his Grace the Duke of 
 Bedford, Bedford House, in the Strand." 
 
 No. VIII. 
 
 Dedications and Prefaces of Howe not contained in any edition 
 of his Works. 
 
 Preface to the Funeral Sermon for the Rev. Henry Newcome, 
 of Manchester, by John Chorlton. 
 
 " To the Christian Reader, especially such as lived under the 
 excellent Mr. Newcome's most fruitful ministry. 
 
 " Two things come under present consideration the following discourse, and 
 the occasion of it. There is nothing to make the former unacceptable, but the 
 latter. You have, here, a most sublime portion of Scripture very aptly ex- 
 plained, and usefully applied, so as to minister light and warmth to them that 
 read. That only in the whole which is grievous is, that we are told worthy Mr. 
 Newcome is dead ! This is a gloomy theme, and is only capable of a more 
 lightsome, pleasant aspect, from the brightness of the firmament, and the lustre 
 of the stars, into which so wise and powerful preachers of the glorious gospel 
 are at length transformed, as this discourse excellently shows. In the mean- 
 time, this is a loss which few can estimate, though they that suffer it are very 
 many. It may be truly said of such a man, as unknown, and yet well known. 
 They that knew him best, could know but a small part of his true and great 
 worth, and might always apprehend, when they knew most of him, there was 
 still much more that they knew not ; his most sincere and inartificial humility, 
 still drawing a veil over his other excellencies, which it hid and adorned at once ; 
 so as the appetite of knowing more, must always meet with a check, and an 
 incitation at the same time. There was in him a large stock of solid learning 
 and knowledge, always ready for use ; for ostentation, never. Conscience the 
 most strict, and steady to itself, and the remotest from censoriousness of other 
 men. Eloquence without any labour of his own, not imitable by the greatest
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 341 
 
 labour of another. Oh, the strange way he had of insinuating and winding 
 himself into his hearers' bosoms ! I have sometimes heard him when the only 
 thing to be regretted was, that the sermon must so soon be at an end. Conver- 
 sation, so facetious and instructive together, that they who enjoyed it, if they 
 were capable of improving it, could scarce tell whether they went away from 
 him more edified or delighted. He was a burning and a shining light. 
 Manchester, Manchester ! that ancient, famed seat of religion and profession, 
 may Capernaum's doom never be thine ! May thy Heyrick, Hollingworth, 
 Newcome, and thy neighbours, Angier, Harrison, and divers more, never be 
 witnesses against thee ! They are dead 1 ' And all flesh is grass, and the word 
 of the Lord endureth for ever,' even that word of the gospel which hath by them 
 been presented to you. It never dies. And may it still abide with you, and in 
 you. 'labour to hold forth the word of life, that such as have laboured 
 among you, ' may rejoice in the day of Christ, that they have not run iu vain, 
 nor laboured in vain.' Let it appear you are the ' epistles of Christ ministered 
 by them, to be known and read of all men ; ' so what there appeared of Christ 
 in them will, as in another edition, be seen in you. And thus will the memory 
 of this your last deceased pastor be best preserved among you, when you shall 
 every one discern Mr. Newcome still, in each other's savoury speech, pleasant 
 and composed looks, becoming behaviour, and regular well-ordered conversa- 
 tion. This will make the love of him live still in your hearts, which will no 
 doubt appear, and be exercised towards any of his, you have yet surviving 
 among you, to whom you may show kindness for his sake. Thus you may let 
 the world know your love to him did not die with him, nor was buried in his 
 grave. You will by real proofs testify your value of him whose circumstances 
 at last gave real proof that he sought not yours, but you. I pray God a double 
 portion of Elijah's spirit may rest upon your remaining Elisha. 
 
 "And am 
 
 " Yours in our common Lord, 
 
 " J. HOWE." 
 
 It has been stated in the narrative, that after Howe had signed 
 the unwise attestation to the genuineness of Dr. Crisp's posthu- 
 mous sermons, he promised Baxter that he would append his name 
 to a recommendatory preface to Flavel's " Blow at the Root ; or, 
 the Causes and Cure of Mental Errors." This he did accordingly, 
 in conjunction with six other gentlemen who had signed the attes- 
 tation to Dr. Crisp's Sermons. His own name stands first. 1 have 
 little doubt that he drew up the " Preface." I have no doubt, also, 
 that he drew up the "Paper" on the same subject, which he tells 
 us was " printed soon after the publication of Dr. Crisp's works ; " 
 and from which the writer of the Preface has largely cited. The in- 
 ternal evidence the peculiarities of the style and the spirit which 
 pervades these compositions all favour the supposition that Howe 
 was the author. Still, as I cannot be certain of the fact, and as the 
 Preface with the above extracts is somewhat lengthy, I have thought 
 it better to omit it. 
 
 I shall close the volume with the following
 
 342 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 DEDICATION PREFIXED TO THE THIED VOLUME OF 
 DE. MANTON'S WOEKS : 
 
 " To the High and Mighty Prince William, by the Grace of God King of 
 England, France, and Ireland, etc. 
 
 "MAY IT PLEASE YOUB MAJESTY, 
 
 " This relic of the worthy deceased author was long since intended, when 
 you were at a greater distance, to be sent abroad under the patronage of your 
 great name. His own name indeed hath long been, and still continues, so 
 bright and fragrant in England, that your Majesty's condescending goodness 
 will count it no indignity to yours, to impart some of its more diffused beams 
 and odours to it. However, if what there was of presumption in that first in- 
 tention can be pardoned, no reason can be apprehended of altering it upon your 
 nearer and most happy approach unto us. 
 
 " The kind design and blessed effect whereof (compared with the scope and 
 design of this excellent work) do much the more urgently invite to it. For as 
 you come to us with the compassionate design of a deliverer and the wonderful 
 blessing of Heaven hath rendered you also a victor and a successful deliverer ; 
 the design of this book is to represent that faith, which is the peculiar and 
 most appropriate principle of what is (like your own) the most glorious of all 
 victories. You have overcome, not by the power of your arms, but by the 
 sound of your name, and by your goodness and kindness, which so effectually 
 first conquered minds, as to leave you no opportunity of using the other more 
 harsh and rugged means of conquest. Yea, and your success is owing to a 
 greater name than yours ; our case, and the truth of the thing, allow and 
 oMige us in a low and humble subordination to apply those sacred words, 
 ' Blessed is he that cometh to us in the name of the Lord.' The power of 
 which glorious name is wont to be exerted according as a trust is placed in it. 
 We acknowledge and adore a most conspicuous Divine presence with you in this 
 undertaking of yours, which is not otherwise to be engaged than by that faith, 
 of which the apostle and this author do here treat. This faith, we are elsewhere 
 told, overcomes this world; and are told here in what way, by representing 
 another, with the invisible Lord of both worlds ; being the substance of what 
 we hope for, and the evidence of what we see not, and whereby we see him who 
 is invisible. This world is not otherwise to be conquered than as it is an enemy ; 
 it is an enemy by the vanities, lusts, and impurities of it. That faith which 
 foresees the end of this world ; which beholds it as a vanishing thing, passing 
 away with all the lust of it ; which looks through all time, and contemplates 
 all the affairs and events of this temporary state, as under the conduct and 
 management of an all-wise and almighty invisible Euler ; which penetrates 
 into eternity, and discovers another world and state of things which shall be 
 unchangeable and of everlasting permanency, and therein beholds the same 
 invisible glorious Lord, as a most gracious and bountiful rewarder of such as 
 serve and obey him with sincere fidelity in this state of trial and temptation 
 here on earth ; such a faith, cannot but be victorious over the lusts, vanities, 
 impurities, and sensualities of this present evil world. Such a faith working 
 by love to God, and good men, and all mankind, and being thereupon fruitful 
 in the good works of piety, sobriety, righteousness, and charity, will be the 
 great reformer of the world, conquer its malignity, reduce its disorders, and 
 infer an universal harmony and peace. 
 
 " Even among us, the noblest part of your Majesty's conquest is yet behind. 
 It cannot but have been observed, that for many years by-past, a design hath 
 been industriously driven, that we might be made papists, to make us slaves ; 
 and for the enslaving us, to debauch us, and plunge us into all manner of sensu- 
 ality ; from a true apprehension, that brute ajid slave are nearest akin, and that
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE. 343 
 
 there is a sort of men so vile and abject, (as the ingenious expression of a great 
 man among the Romans once was) quos non decet esse nisi servos, to whom 
 liberty were an indecency ; and who should be treated unbecomingly, if they 
 were not made slaves ; that we should be fit to serve the lusts and humours of 
 any other man, when once we become servile to our own. And next, that the 
 religion might easily be wrested away from us, which was become so weak and 
 impotent as not to be able to govern us : and that if humanity were eradicated, 
 the principles and privileges that belong to our nature torn from us, easy work 
 would be made with our Christianity and religion. What hath been effected 
 among us by so laboured a design, through a long tract of time, is before you as 
 the matter of your remaining victory ; which as on our part it will be the more 
 difficult, where the pernicious humour is inveterate ; so yonr Majesty's part 
 herein will be most easy, your great example being, under the supreme power, 
 the mover, the potent engine which is to effect the hoped redress ; and your 
 more principal contribution hereunto consisting but in being yourself, in express- 
 ing the virtue, prudence, goodness, and piety, which God hath wrought in 
 your temper. The design of saying this is not flattery, but excitation. Give 
 me leave to lay before your Majesty somewhat that occurs in a book written 
 twenty-seven years ago, not by way of prophecy, but probable conjecture of the 
 way wherein a blessed state of things in these parts of the world is likely to be 
 brought about. 
 
 " ' God will stir up some happy king or governor in some country of Chris- 
 tendom, endued with wisdom and consideration, who shall discern the true 
 nature of godliness and Christianity, and the necessity and excellency of serious 
 religion, and shall place his honour and felicity in pleasing God and doing good, 
 and attaining everlasting happiness ; and shall subject all worldly respects unto 
 these high and glorious ends ; shall know that godliness and justice have the 
 most precious name on earth, and prepare for the most glorious reward in 
 heaven,' etc. 
 
 " With how great hopes and joy must it fill every upright heart, daily (as 
 they do) to behold in your Majesty and in your Royal Consort (whom a Divine 
 hand hath so happily placed with you on the same throne) the same lively 
 characters of this exemplified idea ! It cannot but inspire us with such 
 pleasant thoughts, that winter is well-nigh gone, and the time of singing of 
 birds approaches ; the night is far spent, and the day is at hand, a bright and 
 glorious morning triumphs over the darkness of a foul tempestuous night ; the 
 sober serious age now commences, when sensuality, falsehood, cruelty, oppres- 
 sion, the contempt of God and religion, are going out of fashion ; to be a noted 
 debauchee, of a vicious life and dishonest mind, capable of being swayed to 
 serve ill purposes without hesitation, will no longer be thought a man's praise 
 or a qualification for trusts. It shall be no disreputable thing to profess the fear 
 of God, and the belief of a life to come. A scenical unserious religion, a 
 spurious adulterated Christianity, made up of doctrines repugnant to the sacred 
 oracles, to sound reason, and even to common sense, with idolatrous and lu- 
 dicrous formalities, and which hate the light, shall vanish before it. There 
 shall be no more strife about unnecessary circumstances ; grave decencies in the 
 worship of God, that shall be self -recommending and command a veneration in 
 every conscience, shall take place. There shall be no contention amongst 
 Christians, but who shall most honour God and our Redeemer, do most good iu 
 the world, and most entirely love, and effectually befriend and serve one another ; 
 which are all things most connatural to that vivid, realizing, victorious faith 
 here treated of. 
 
 " Nor are other victories alien to it over the armed powers of God's visible 
 enemies in the world, such as he may yet call your Majesty with glorious suc- 
 cess to encounter in his name, and for the sake of it. In some following verses 
 of this chapter (wherein the line of the apostle's discourse went beyond that of 
 this worthy author's life) this is represented as the powerful instrument which
 
 344 LTFE OF JOHN HOWE. 
 
 those great heroes employed in their high achievements of ' subduing king- 
 doms, working righteousness, (or executing God's just revenges upon his un- 
 yielding enemies) obtaining promises, stopping the mouths of lions, quenching 
 the violence of fire, escaping the edge of the sword, whereby out of weakness 
 they were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the 
 aliens;' by this faith, they in the prophet's lofty style, 1 as it were 'bathed 
 their sword in heaven,' gave it a celestial tincture, made it resistless and pene- 
 trating. This is the true way, wherein (according to the divinest philosophy) 
 the spirit of a man may draw into consent with itself the universal almighty 
 Spirit. And if the glorious Lord of Hosts shall assign to your Majesty a 
 farther part in the employments of this noble kind, may he gird you with 
 might unto the battle ; may your bow abide in strength, and the arms of ' your 
 hands be made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob,' even by the 
 God of your fathers, who shall help you, and by the Almighty who shall bless 
 you ; and may he most abundantly bless you ' with blessings of heaven above, 
 blessings of the deep that lyeth under, blessings of the breasts and of the 
 womb.' May he cover your head in fight, and crown it with victory and glory, 
 and grant you to know, by use and trial, the power of that faith, in all its opera- 
 tions, which unites God with man, and can render, in a true and sober sense, 
 and to all his own purposes, a human arm omnipotent. Which is the serious 
 prayer of, 
 
 " Your Majesty's most devoted 
 
 " And most humble Servant and Subject, 
 
 " JOHN HOWE." 
 
 * Isa. xxxiv. 5. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.
 
 A NEW EDITION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 WOEKS OP JOHN HOWE, 
 
 Printed on fine paper in Demy Svo. 
 
 THIS Edition includes the Life by Mr. HENRY ROGERS, revised 
 by the Author. The same gentleman, who was long impressed 
 with the conviction that the uncouthness of many parts of Howe's 
 writings might be at least considerably diminished, and his pages 
 made more readable, by a careful revision of the punctuation (which, 
 was very faulty in the early editions, and has much fluctuated in 
 the later), consented to attempt its revision throughout, and, in 
 order to secure a correct text, compared the printer's proofs with 
 editions of the several works published in Howe's lifetime. Beyond 
 the changes of punctuation, however, and the adoption of modern 
 forms of orthography, etc., no alterations whatever have been made ; 
 one of the objects of the Editor being to insure the utmost possible 
 accuracy in the text. A preface to the first volume of the " Works," 
 by Mr. Rogers, more fully explains the nature and extent of the 
 improvements attempted in this Edition. 
 
 It is not probable that the Society would have engaged in an 
 undertaking of this magnitude had there been, when they entered 
 upon it, any immediate prospect of its being prosecuted by private 
 enterprise. But the failure of one laudable attempt (owing to causes 
 which had nothing to do with any doubts of the expediency of the 
 object itself) made it very uncertain whether any new effort would 
 bo made ; and there being a strong desire in many to see the works 
 
 A A
 
 346 
 
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 every reader will admit to be very cheap. 
 
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 called Howe's "posthumous works" which are exceedingly 
 unequal, most of them inferior in value, and some of them mere 
 reports of his Sermons published many years after his death will 
 depend entirely on whether the public shall express a desire to have 
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 fined to six volumes (exclusive of the Life), may be extended. 
 
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