The Saxons had a species of writing which they called poetry, but it did not consist of regular verses, nor was it
The Saxons had a species of writing which they called poetry, but it did not consist of regular verses, nor was it embellished by rhime. The Normans, it is generally thought, were the first who introduced rhime or metre, copied from the Latin rythmical verses, a bastard species, which belongs to the declining period of the Latin language. To deduce the history of versification from the earliest periods is impossible, for want of specimens. Two very trifling ones only are extant before the time of Henry II. namely, a few lines in the Saxon Chronicle upon the death of William the Conqueror, and a short canticle, which, according to Matthew Paris, the blessed virgin was pleased to dictate to Godric, an hermit near Durham. In the time of Henry II. Layamon, a priest, translated chiefly from the French of Wace, a fabulous history of the Britons, entitled Le Brut, which Wace himself, about 1155, had translated from the Latin of Geffry of Monmouth. In this there are a number of short verses, of unequal lengths, but exhibiting something like rhime. But so common was it to write whatever was written, in French or Latin, that another century must be passed over before we come to another specimen of English poetry, if we except the Ormulum, and a moral piece upon old age, &c. noticed by Mr. Tyrwhitt, and which he conjectures to have been written earlier than the reign of Henry III.
isted Mr. Reyner, the minister of that place; after which he removed to a town at a little distance, called” Scituate," where he continued twelve years in the discharge
, an eminent nonconformist,
and great uncle to the historian of Hertfordshire, was the
fifth and youngest son of George Chauncy, esq. of Yardley-bury and New-place in Hertfordshire, by Agnes, the
daughter of Edward Welch, and widow of Edward Humberstone, and was born in 1592. He was educated at
Westminster school, from which he went to Trinity college,
Cambridge, where he was admitted to his several degrees,
till he became bachelor of divinity. His reputation for
learning was such as gained him the esteem and friendship
of the celebrated Dr. Usher, archbishop of Armagh. In
consequence of his distinguished skill in Oriental literature, he was chosen, by the heads of houses, Hebrew professor; but Dr. Williams, the vice-chancellor, preferring
a relation of his own, Mr. Chauncy resigned his pretensions, and was appointed to the Greek professorship. He
was the author of the sTriKpuris which is prefixed to Leigh’s
“Critica Sacra' 7 upon the New Testament. When Mr.
Chauncy quitted the university, he became vicar of Ware
in Hertfordshire. Being of puritanical principles, he was
jnuch offended with the
” Book of Sports;“and opposed,
although with less reason, the railing in of the Communion
table. Besides this, he had the indiscretion to say in a
sermon, that idolatry was admitted into the church; that
much Atheism, Popery, Arminianism, and Heresy had
crept into it; and that the preaching of the gospel would
be suppressed. Having by these things excited the indignation of the ruling powers, he was questioned in the high
commission; and the cause being referred, by order of
that court, to the determination of his ordinary, he was
imprisoned, condemned in costs of suit, and obliged to
make a recantation; which, as it had been extorted from
him through fear, lay heavy on his mind. He continued,
indeed, some years in his native country, and officiated at
Marston Lawrence, in the diocese of Peterborough; but
at length retired to New England, where he made an
open acknowledgment of his crime in signing a recantation contrary to the dictates of his conscience. For some
considerable time succeeding his arrival at New England
in 1637, he assisted Mr. Reyner, the minister of that
place; after which he removed to a town at a little distance, called
” Scituate," where he continued twelve
years in the discharge of his pastoral office. When the
republican party became predominant in England, Mr.
Chauncy was invited, by his old parishioners at Ware, to
return back to his native country, and had thoughts of
complying, but was so earnestly pressed by the trustees of
Harvard college, in Cambridge, which then wanted a president, to accept of the government of that society, that
he could not resist their solicitations. This event took
place in 1654; and from that time to his death, which
happened on the 19th of February, 1671-2, in the 80th
year of his age, Mr. Chauncy continued with great reputation at the head of the college, discharging the duties of
his station with distinguished attention, diligence, and
ability. So high was the esteem in which he was held,
that when he had resided about two years in Cambridge,
the church of that town, to whom he was united, and
among whom he preached, kept a whole day of thanksgiving to God, for the mercy they enjoyed in their connection
with him. Mr. Chauncy, by his wife Catherine, whose
life was published, had six sons, all of whom were brought
up for the ministry. Isaac the eldest of them, became
pastor of a nonconformist society in London, and wrote
several treatises . Mr. Charles Chauncy had a number of
descendants, who long flourished both in Old and New
England. One of them was the late Dr. Chauncy the physician, who died in 1777, well known for his skill and
taste in pictures, and for his choice collection of them,
afterwards in the possession of his brother, Nathaniel
Chauncy, esq. of Castle-street, Leicester-fields, who died
in 1790.
n Gonvil and Caius college in Cambridge. He removed, in 1649, to the Middle-Temple; and in 1656, was called to the bar. In 1661, he was constituted a justice of peace lor
, knt. author of the “Historical Antiquities of Hertfordshire,
” which bears a higher
price than any other topographical volume, was descended
from a family which came into England with William the
conqueror. He was born in 1632, and had his grammatical education at Bishop’s Stortford school, under Mr.
Thomas Leigh; and in 1647, was admitted in Gonvil and
Caius college in Cambridge. He removed, in 1649, to
the Middle-Temple; and in 1656, was called to the bar.
In 1661, he was constituted a justice of peace lor aie
county of Hertford; made one of the benchers of the Middle-Temple in 1675, and steward of the Burgh-coujt in
Hertford; and likewise, in 1680, appointed by charter,
recorder of that place. In 1681, he was elected reader of
the Middle-Temple; and on the 4th of June, the same
year, received the honour of knighthood at Windsor-castle,
from king Charles II. He was chosen treasurer of the
Middle-Temple in 1685. On the llth of June, 1688, he
was called to the degree of a serjeant at law, and the same
year advanced to be a Welsh judge, or one of his majesty’s
justices for the counties of Glamorgan, Brecknock, and
Radnor, in the principality of Wales. He married three
wives; 1. Jane, youngest daughter of Francis Flyer, of
Brent-Pelham, in Hertfordshire, esq. by whom he had
seven children. She died December 31, 1672. 2. Elizabeth, the relict of John Goulsmith, of Stredset, in Norfolk,
esq one of the coheirs of Gregory Wood, of Risby, in
Suffolk, gent. By her he had no issue. She died
August 4, 1677. 3. His third wife was Elizabeth, the second
daughter of Nathaniel Thruston, of Hoxny, in Suffolk, esq.
by whom he had two children. He died April 1719, and
May 1, was buried at Tardley-Bury. He published “The
Historical Antiquities of Hertfordshire,
” Speculum Britanniae,
” published in
y generally with catholics, and even to be present at the examinations and convictions of those they called heretics. But his remorse, and extreme vexation for what he
In the beginning of the year 1556, his wife being come
to Brussels, he resolved, chiefly upon a treacherous invitation he received from the lord Paget and sir John Mason,
to go thither. But first he consulted astrology, in which
he was very credulous, to know whether he might safely
undertake that journey; and being deceived by that delusive art, he fell into a fatal snare between Brussels and Antwerp. For, by order of king Philip II. being way- laid there
by the provost-marshal, he was suddenly seized on the 15th
of May, unhorsed, blindfolded, bound, and thrown into a
waggon; conveyed to the nearest harbour, put on board a
ship under hatches, and brought to the Tower of London,
where he was committed close prisoner. He soon -found
that this was on account of his religion; for two of the
queen’s chaplains were sent to the Tower to endeavour to
reconcile him to the church of Rome, though without success. But the desire of gaining so great a man, induced
the queen to send to him Dr. Feckenham, dean of St. Paul’s,
a man of a moderate temper, and with whom he had been
acquainted in the late reign. This man’s arguments being
inforced by the dreadful alternative, “either comply, or
burn,
” sir John’s frailty was not able to withstand them.
He was, therefore, at his own desire, carried before cardinal Pole, who gravely advised him to return to the unity
of the church: and in this dilemma of fear and perplexity,
he endeavoured to escape by drawing up a paper, consisting of quotations out of the fathers that seemed to
countenance transubstantiation, representing them as his own
opinion, and hoping that would suffice to procure him his
liberty, without any other public declarations of his change.
This paper he sent to cardinal Pole, with a letter dated
July 15, in which he desired him to spare him from making
an open recantation but that being refused, he wrote a
letter to the queen the same day, in which he declared his
readiness to obey her laws, and other orders of religion.
After this, he made his solemn submission before the cardinal, suing to be absolved, and received into the bosom
of the Roman catholic church; which was granted him as
a great favour. But still he was forced to make a public
recantation before the queen, on the 4th of October, and
another long one before the whole court; and submitted to
whatever penances should be enjoined him by the pope’s
legate, i. e. the cardinal. After all these mortifications,
his lands were restored to him, but upon condition of an
exchange with the queen for others*. The papists, by
way of triumph over him and the protestants, obliged him
to keep company generally with catholics, and even to be
present at the examinations and convictions of those they
called heretics. But his remorse, and extreme vexation
for what he had done, sat so heavy upon his mind, that
pining away with shame and regret, he died September 13,
1557, aged forty-three, at his friend Mr. Peter Osborne’s
house, in Wood-street, London, and was buried in St. Alban’s church there, in the north chapel of the choir, the
16th of September. A stone was set afterwards over his
grave, with an inscriptionf. He left three sons; John and
Edward, the two youngest, died without issue; Henry,
the eldest, was secretary to the council in the north, and
knighted by queen Elizabeth: he died about the year
1586. Thomas, his eldest son and heir, was knighted by
Treatise on the high operation for the Stone.” This work was soon attacked in an anonymous pamphlet, called “Lithotomus castratus, or an Examination of the Treatise of
In 1723 he published in 8vo, his “Treatise on the high
operation for the Stone.
” This work was soon attacked
in an anonymous pamphlet, called “Lithotomus castratus,
or an Examination of the Treatise of Mr. Cheselden,” and
in which he was charged with plagiarism. How unjust this
accusation was, appears from his preface, in which he had
acknowledged his obligations to Dr. James Douglas and
Mr. John Douglas, from one of whom the attack is supposed to have come. Mr. Cheselden’s solicitude to do
justice to other eminent practitioners is farther manifest,
from his having annexed to his book a translation of what
had been written on the subject by Franco, who published
“Traite des Hernies,
” &c. at Lyons, in Cæsarei Partus Assertio Historiologica,
”
Paris, Methode de la Tailie
au haut appareile recuillie des ouvrages du fameux Triumvirat.
” This triumvirate consisted of Rosset, to whom
the honour of the invention was due; Douglas, who had
revived it after long disuse; and Cheselden, who had
practised the operation with the most eminent skill and
success. Indeed Mr. Cheselden was so celebrated on this
account, that, as a lithotomist, he monopolized the principal business of the kingdom. The author of his eloge,
in the “Memoires de L' Academic Royale de Chirurgerie.,
”
who was present at many of his operations, testifies, that
one of them was performed in so small a time as fifty-four
seconds. In 1728, Mr. Cheselden added greatly to his
reputation in another view, by couching a lad of nearly
fourteen years of age, who was either born blind, or had
lost his sight so early, that he had no remembrance of his
having ever seen. The observations made by the young
gentleman, after obtaining the blessing of sight, are singularly curious, and have been much attended to, and
reasoned upon by several writers on vision. They may be
found in the later editions of the “Anatomy.
” In Osteography, or Anatomy of the Bones,
” inscribed to queen
Caroline, and published by subscription, came out in 1733,
a splendid folio, in the figures of which all the bones are
represented in their natural size. Our author lost a great
sum of money by this publication, which in 1735 was attacked with much severity by Dr. Douglas, whose criticism
appeared under the title of “Remarks on that pompous
book, the Osteography of Mr. Cheselden.
” The work
received a more judicious censure from the celebrated
Haller, who, whilst he candidly pointed out its errors, paid
the writer that tribute of applause which he so justly de“served. Heister, likewise, in his
” Compendium of
Anatomy,“did justice to his merit. Mr. Cheselden having
long laboured for the benefit of the public, and accomplished his desires with respect to fame and fortune, began
at length to wish for a life of greater tranquillity and retirement; and in 1737 he obtained an honourable situation of this kind, by being appointed head surgeon to
Chelsea hospital; which place he held, with the highest
reputation, till his death. He did not, however, wholly
remit his endeavours to advance the knowledge of his profession; for, upon the publication of Mr. Gataker’s translation of Mons. le Dran’s
” Operations of Surgery," he
contributed twenty-one useful plates towards it, and a
variety of valuable remarks, some of which he had made
so early as while he was a pupil to Mr. Feme. This was
the last literary work in which he engaged. In 1751, Mr.
Cheselden, as a governor of the Foundling hospital, sent a
benefaction of fifty pounds to that charity, enclosed in a
paper with the following lines, from Pope:
hesne, lord of Sausoniere. His name has been Latinized in different forms. He has at different times called himself Quema3us, Quercetanus, Duchenius; and by others he has
, an eminent historian, and justly considered as the father of French history, was bornin the Isle of Bouchard; in Torrairie, May 1584. He was the youngest of the four sons of Tanneguy Du Chesne, lord of Sausoniere. His name has been Latinized in different forms. He has at different times called himself Quema3us, Quercetanus, Duchenius; and by others he has been called Querceus, a Quercu, Chesneus, and Chesnius. In his historical works he assumed no other title than that of geographer to the king, except in his history of the house of Bethune, printed in 1639, where he calls himself historiographer to the king. His family produced many men of talents in the army and at the bar. He was first educated at Loudun, and after a course of grammar and rhetoric, came to Parisj where he studied philosophy, in the college of Boncours, under Julius Caesar Boulanger, an eminent philosopher, and one of the best historians of that period.
, called also Quercetanus, lord of La Violette, and physician to the
, called also Quercetanus, lord
of La Violette, and physician to the French king, was born
at Armagnac, about the middle of the sixteenth century.
After having passed a considerable time in Germany, and
being admitted to the degree of M. D. at Basle, 1573,
he practised his art in Paris, and was made physician to
Henry IV. He had made great progress in the study of
chemistry, to which he was particularly devoted. The
success that attended his practice in this science, excited
the spleen of the rest of the physicians, and especially
that of Guy Patin, who was continually venting sarcasms
and satires against him, but experience has since shewn
that Du Chesne was better acquainted with the properties
of antimony than Patin and his colleagues. This learned
chemist, who is called Du Quesne by Moreri, died at Paris,
at a very advanced age, in 1609. He wrote in French
verse, “The Folly of the World,
” The
great Mirror of the World,
” Pharmacopoeia Dogmaticorum restituta, pretiosis, selectisque Hermeticorum Floribus illustrata,
” Giesse Hess.
ionably one of his best works. This came out about six years after Chillingworth' s more famous work called “The Religion of Protestants,” &c. and was written, as we are
Dr. Cheynell (for he had taken his doctor’s degree) was
a man of considerable parts and learning, and published a
great many sermons and other works; but now he is chiefly
memorable for his conduct to the celebrated Chillingworth,
in which he betrayed a degree of bigotry that has not been
defended by any of the nonconformist biographers. In
1643, when Laud was a prisoner in the Tower, there was
printed by authority a book of Cheynell’s, entitled “The
rise, growth, and danger of Socinianism,” and unquestionably one of his best works. This came out about six
years after Chillingworth' s more famous work called “The
Religion of Protestants,
” &c. and was written, as we are
told in the title-page, with a view of detecting a most
horrid plot formed by the archbishop and his adherents
against the pure Protestant religion. In this book the
arcfrbishop, Hales of Eton, Chillingworth, and other eminent divines of those times, were strongly charged with
Socinianism. The year after, 1644, when Chillingworth
was dead, there came out another piece of CheyneJPs with
this strange title, “Chillingworthi Novissima; or, the sickness, heresy, death and burial of William Chillingworth.
”
This was also printed by authority and is, as the writer
of Chillingworth’s life truly observes, a most ludicrous
as well as melancholy instance of fanaticism, or religious
madness. To this is prefixed a dedication to Dr. Bayly,
Dr. Prideaux, Dr. Fell, &c. of the university of Oxford,
who had given their imprimatur to Chillingworth’s book;
in which those divines are abused not a little, for giving
so much countenance to the use of reason in religious matters, as they had given by their approbation of Chillingworth’s book. After the dedication follows the relation
itself; in which Cheynell gives an account how he came
acquainted with this man of reason, as he calls Chillingworth; what care he took of him; and how, as his illness
increased, “they remembered him in their prayers, and
prayed heartily that God would be pleased to bestow saving
graces as well as excellent gifts upon him; that He would
give him new light and new eyes, that he might see and
acknowledge, and recant his error; that he might deny
his carnal reason, and submit to faith:
” in all which he is
supposed to have related nothing but what was true. For
he is allowed by bishop Hoadly to have been as sincere, as
honest, and as charitable as his religion would suffer him
to be; and, in the case of Chillingworth, while he thought
it his duty to consign his soul to hell, was led by his humanity to take care of his body. Chillingworth at length
died; and Cheynell, though he refused, as he tells us, to
bury his body, yet conceived it very fitting to bury his
book. For this purpose he met Chillingworth' s friends at
the grave with his book in his hand; and, after a short
preamble to the people, in which he assured them “how
happy it would be for the kingdom, if this book and
all its fellows could be so buried that they might never rise
more, unless it were for a confutation,
” he exclaimed,
“Get thee gone, thou cursed book, which has seduced so
many precious souls: get thee gone, thou corrupt rotten
book, earth to earth, and dust: to dust get thee gone into
the place of rottenness, that thou mayest rot with thy
author, and see corruption.
”
Cheynell’s death happened in 1665, at an obscure village called Preston, in Sussex, where he had purchased an estate, to which
Cheynell’s death happened in 1665, at an obscure village called Preston, in Sussex, where he had purchased an estate, to which he retired upon his being turned out of the living of Petworth. The warmth of his zeal, increased bv the turbulence of the times in which he lived, and by the opposition to which the unpopular nature of some of his employments exposed him, was at last heightened to distraction, and he was for some years disordered in his understanding. Wood thinks that a tendency to madness was discoverable in a great part of his life; Calamy, that it was only transient and accidental, though he pleads it as an extenuation of that fury with which his kindest friends confess him to have acted on some occasions, particularly, we may add, at Oxford, when one of the parliamentary visitors, where his behaviour was savage enough to justify more than the retaliation inflicted on his party. Wood declares that he died little better than distracted; but Calamy, that he was perfectly recovered before the restoration. He had many good qualities, particularly a hospitable disposition, and a contempt for money; but his extravagant zeal marred his usefulness, and reflected no honour on his general character, or on his party. With regard, however, to his charging Chillingworth with Socinianism, that is now universally allowed.
ele, educated in all the prejudices of the times, endeavoured to check the growing heresy, as it was called; but from the silence of Fox on the subject, there is reason
After the death of Henry V. in 1422, and the appointment of Humphrey duke of Gloucester to be regent during
the minority of Henry VI., Chichele retired to his province, and began to visit the several dioceses included in
it, carefully inquiring into the state of morals and religion.
The principles of Wickliffe had made considerable progress, and it was to them chiefly that the indifference of
the public towards the established clergy, and the efforts
which had been made to alienate their revenues, were
attributed. Officially, therefore, we are not to wonder that
Chichele, educated in all the prejudices of the times, endeavoured to check the growing heresy, as it was called;
but from the silence of Fox on the subject, there is reason
to hope that his personal interference was far more gentle
than that of his predecessor Arundel. On the other hand,
history has done ample justice to the spirit with which he
resisted the assumed power of the pope in the disposition
of ecclesiastical preferments, and asserted the privileges
of the English church. In all this he was supported by
the nation at large, by a majority of the bishops, and by
the university of Oxford, nor at this time was more zeal
shown against the Lollards, or first protestants, than against
the capricious and degrading encroachments of the court
of Home. Among the vindications of Chichele’s character
from the imputations thrown upon it by the agents of the
pope, that of the university of Oxford must not be omitted.
They told the pope, that “Chichele stood in the sanctuary of God as a firm wall that heresy could not shake, nor
simony undermine, and that he was the darling of the
people, and the foster parent of the clergy.
” These remonstrances, however, were unsatisfactory to the proud
and restless spirit of Martin V. but after he had for some
time kept the terrors of an interdict hanging over the nation, the dispute was dropped without concessions on either
side, and the death of this pope, soon after, relieved the
archbishop from farther vexation.
the Cistercian order, who at that time had no settled habitation at Oxford. This mansion, which was called St. Bernard’s College, was afterwards alienated to sir Thomas
His first intentions with respect to Oxford ended in the erection of a house for the scholars of the Cistercian order, who at that time had no settled habitation at Oxford. This mansion, which was called St. Bernard’s College, was afterwards alienated to sir Thomas White, and formed part of St. John’s college. The foundation of All Souls, however, is that which has conveyed his memory to our times with the highest claims of veneration. Like his predecessor and friend Wykeham, he had amassed considerable wealth, and determined to expend it in facilitating the purposes of education, which, notwithstanding the erection of the preceding colleges, continued to be much obstructed during those reigns, the turbulence of which rendered property insecure, and interrupted the quiet progress of learning and civilization.
f a warden and twenty fellows, with power in the warden to increase their number to forty, and to be called The warden and college of the souls of all the faithful deceased,
According to this charter, the society was to consist of a warden and twenty fellows, with power in the warden to increase their number to forty, and to be called The warden and college of the souls of all the faithful deceased, Collegium Omnium slnimarum Fiddium defunctorum de Oxon. The precise meaning of this may be understood from the obligation imposed on the society to pray for the good estate of Henry VI. and the archbishop during their lives, and for their souls after their decease; also for the souls of Henry V. and the duke of Clarence, together with those of all the dukes, earls, barons, knights, esquires, and other subjects of the crown of England, who had fallen in the war with France; and for the souls of all the faithful deceased.
der also gave them the manors of Horsham, and Scotney, or Bletching-court in Kent, and certain lands called the Tariffs or Friths in
For the more ample endowment of this college, the founder purchased and bestowed on it the manor of Wedon and Weston, or Wedon Pinkeney in Northamptonshire. King’s college, Cambridge, became afterwards possessed of a part of it, but All Souls has, besides the advowsort of the churches belonging to it, the largest estate, and the lordship of the waste. The founder also gave them the manors of Horsham, and Scotney, or Bletching-court in Kent, and certain lands called the Tariffs or Friths in
pectation. His services were rewarded by marks of honour and a pension from the king. In 1731 he was called to court to be physician to the royal children, by the interest
, counsellor of state, and
first physician to the French king, was born at Montpellier
in 1672. Having obtained his doctor’s degree, though no
more than twenty years old, he was sent to stop the progress of the plague then raging at Marseilles, by the duke
of Orleans, regent of the kingdom. The boldness and
confidence with which he entered that city, where every
one seemed only waiting for death, had a striking effect on
their fears. He encouraged the inhabitants, and quieted
their alarms by his presence; and his success was beyond
expectation. His services were rewarded by marks of
honour and a pension from the king. In 1731 he was
called to court to be physician to the royal children, by
the interest of Chirac, whose daughter he had married;
and after whose death he was made first physician to the
king, counsellor of state, and superintendent of the mineral waters of the kingdom. He died at Versailles in 1752,
aged near 80. The most curious of his works is that
wherein he maintains that the plague is not contagious,
entitled “Observations et reflexions touchant la nature,
les evenements, et le traitement de la Peste de Marseilles,
”
Paris, Traitedes causes, &c. de la Peste,
” Paris,
figure in the republic of letters, particularly for his knowledge of the Hebrew. He had another son, called Julius Chifflet, well skilled in languages and in the civil
Chifflet died in 1660, leaving a son, John Chifflet, who
afterwards made a figure in the republic of letters, particularly for his knowledge of the Hebrew. He had another
son, called Julius Chifflet, well skilled in languages and
in the civil law, and who had the honour to be invited to
Madrid by the king of Spain in 1648, where he was made
chancellor of the order of the golden fleece. He published
the “Hist. duChevalierJaq.de Lalain,
” Brussels, Ge*nealogie de la Maison de Rye,
” Ge‘ne’alogie de la Maison de Tassis,
” Ant. 1652, 4to. There was also
Philip Chifflet, canon of Besanc,on, &c. Laurence and
Peter Francis Chifflet, Jesuits, who were all men of high
reputation in the learned world. The last-mentioned, who
died May 11, 1682, aged ninety-two, left various works:
among the rest,
” L'Histoire de PAbbaye de Tournus,“1664, 4to;
” Lettre sur Beatrix Comtesse de Champagne."
There have been other learned men of this name, as may
be seen in Moreri, who is rather prolix on this family.
confute the principles of the church of Rome, and to vindicate the religion of protestants. A Jesuit called Edward Knott, though his true name was Matthias Wilson, had
As, in forsaking the church of England, as well as in
returning to it, he was solely influenced by a love of truth,
so, upon the same principles, even after his return to protestantism, he thought it incumbent upon him to re-examine the grounds of it. This appears from a letter he
wrote to Sheldon, containing some scruples he had about
leaving the church of Rome, and returning to the church
of England; and these scruples, which he declared ingenuously to his friends, seemed to have occasioned a report that he had turned papist a second time, and then
protestant again. It would have been more just, perhaps,
to conclude that his principles were still unsettled, but, as
his return to the protestant religion made much noise, he
became engaged in several disputes with those of the
Homish; and particularly with John Lewgar, John Floyd
a Jesuit, who went under the name of Daniel, or Dan. a.
Jesu, and White. Lewgar, a great zealot for the church
of Rome, and one who had been an intimate friend of our
author, as soon as he heard of his return to the church of
England, sent him a very angry and abusive letter; to which
Chillingvvorth returned so mild and affectionate an answer,
that Lewgar could not help being touched with it, and
desired to see his old friend again. They had a conference
upon religion before Skinner and Sheldon and we have a
paper of Chillingworth printed among the additional discourses above-mentioned, which seems to contain the abstract or summary of their dispute. Besides the pieces
already mentioned, he wrote one to demonstrate, that
“the doctrine of infallibility is neither evident of itself,
nor grounded upon certain and infallible reasons, nor warranted by any passage of scripture.
” And in two other
papers, he shews that the church of Rome had formerly
erred; first, “by admitting of infants to the eucharist,
and holding, that without it they could not be saved;
” and
secondly, “by teaching the doctrine of the millenaries,
viz. that before the world’s end Christ shall reign upon the
earth 1000 years, and that the saints should live under him
in all holiness and happiness;
” both which doctrines are
condemned as false and heretical by the present church of
Rome. He wrote also a short letter, in answer to some
objections by one of his friends, in which he shews, that
“neither the fathers nor the councils are infallible witnesses of tradition and that the infallibility of the church
of Rome must first of all be proved from Scripture.
” Lastly,
he wrote an answer to some passages in the dialogues published under the name of Rush worth. In 1635 he was
engaged in a work which gave him a far greater opportunity to confute the principles of the church of Rome, and
to vindicate the religion of protestants. A Jesuit called
Edward Knott, though his true name was Matthias Wilson,
had published in 1630 a little book called “Charity mistaken, with the want whereof catholics are unjustly charged,
for affirming, as they do with grief, that protestancy unrepented destroys salvation.
” This was answered by Dr.
Potter, provost of Queen Vcollege, Oxford, in 1633, in
a tract entitled “Want of Charity justly charged on all
such Romanists as dare without truth or modesty affirm,
that protestancy destroyeth salvation.
” The Jesuit in
Mercy and Truth, or
Charity maintained by catholics with the want
whereof they are unjustly chargetl, for affirming that
protestancy destroyeth salvation.
” Knott being informed of Chillingworth’s intention to reply to this,
resolved to prejudice the public both against the author
and his book, in a pamphlet called “A Direction to be
observed by N. N. if he means to proceed in answering
the book entitled Mercy and Truth, &c. printed in 1636,
permissu superiorum:
” in which he makes no scruple to
represent Chillingworth as a Socinian, a charge which has
been since brought against him with more effect. Chillingworth’s answer to Knott was very nearly finished in
the beginning of 1637, when Laud, who knew our author’s
freedom in delivering his thoughts, and was under some
apprehension he might indulge it too much in his book,
recommended the revisal of it to Dr. Prideaux, professor
of divinity at Oxford, afterwards bishop of Worcester; and
desired it might be published with his approbation annexed
to it. Dr. Baylie, vice-chancellor, and Dr. Fell, lady
Margaret’s professor in divinity, also examined the book;
and at the end of the year it was published, with their approbation, under this title: “The religion of Protestants
a safe way to Salvation: or, an answer to a book entitled
Mercy and Truth, or Charity maintained by Catholics,
which pretends to prove the contrary.
” It was presented
by the author to Charles I. with a very elegant dedication i
from whence we learn this remarkable circumstance, that
Dr. Potter’s vindication of the protestant religion against
Knott’s books was written by special order of the king 5
and that, by giving such an order, that prince, besides
the general good, had also some aim at the recovery of
Chillingworth from the danger he was then in by the change
of his religion. This work was received with general applause; and what perhaps never happened to any other
controversial work of that bulk, two editions of it wer6
published within less than five months: the first at Oxford,
1638, in folio; the second at London, with some small
improvements, the same year. A third was published
in 1664 to which were added some pieces of Chillingworth a fourth in 1674; a fifth in 1684, with the
addition of his Letter to Lewgar, mentioned above. In
1687, when the nation was in imminent danger of popery,
and this work was in its Cull popularity, Dr. John Patrick,
at the request of the London clergy, published an abridgment of it in 4to, with the additional pieces, which we
have taken notice of already. The sixth edition of the
original appeared in 1704, with the “Additional Discourses,
” but full of typographical errors; the seventh
edition in 1719; the eighth in ———; and the ninth in
1727. This last edition was prepared from that of 1664,
carefully examined and compared with the two preceding
editions. The various readings of these editions are. taken
notice of at the bottom of each page, with the words Oxf,
or Lond. after them. The tenth and last edition is of the
year 1742, with the “Life of Mr. Chillingworth,
”by Dr. Birch',
which life was copied into the General Dictionary, 10 vols.
fol. The Jesuit Knott, as well as Floyd and Lacy, Jesuits,
wrote against Chillingworth; but their answers were soon
forgotten.
ere are extant of Mr. Chillingworth’s, “Nine Sermons on occasional subjects,” 1664, 4to; and a tract called “The Apostolical Institution of Episcopacy,” 1644, 4to. It was
Besides the works already noticed, there are extant of
Mr. Chillingworth’s, “Nine Sermons on occasional subjects,
” The Apostolical
Institution of Episcopacy,
” Confessions and proofs of
protestant divines,
”
, one of the wise men of Greece, as they are called, flourished about the first year of the fifty-sixth Olympiad,
, one of the wise men of Greece, as they are
called, flourished about the first year of the fifty-sixth
Olympiad, or 556 B. C. Diogenes Laertius, however,
thinks he was an old man in the fifty-second olympiad.
Fenelon, with his usual respect for the ancient philosophers, asserts that he was a perfect model of virtue. About
the fifty-fifth olympiad, he was made one of the ephori
at Lacedaemon, a dignity which counterbalanced the authority of the kings. He appears to have been superstitiously attached to divination, and stories are told of his
foretelling future events, which he contended might be
done by the human intellect. He died at Pisa, through
excess of joy, when embracing his son, who had returned
from the Olympic games, crowned as victor. He executed
the offices of magistracy with so much uprightness, that in
his old age, he said, that he recollected nothing in his public
conduct which gave him uneasiness, except that, in one instance, he had endeavoured to screen a friend from punishment. He held, however, the selfish maxim of Pittacus,
that “we ought to love as if we were one day to hate, and
hate, as if we were one day to love.
” The more valuable
of his precepts and maxims, were: Three things are difficult: to keep a secret, to bear an injury patiently, and
to spend leisure well. Visit your friend in misfortune
rather than in prosperity. Never ridicule the unfortunate.
Think jbefore you speak. Do not desire impossibilities.
Gold is tried by the touchstone, and men are tried by
gold. Honest loss is preferable to shameful gain; for by
the one, a man is a sufferer but once; by the other, always.
In conversation use no violent motion of the hands; in
walking, do not appear to be always upon business of life
or death; for rapid movements indicate a kind of phrenzy.
If you are great, be condescending; for it is better to
be loved then feared. Speak no evil of the dead. Re\erence the aged. Know thyself.
imself. He gained great honour during the epidemical disorder which prevailed at Ilochefort, and was called the Siam sickness. When there was danger of an inflammation
, an eminent French physician, was born 1650, at Conques in ^anguedoc. M. Chicoineau entrusted him with the education of his two sons, and perSuaded him to study physic. Chirac became a member of the faculty at Montpellier, and in five years time taught physic there, which he afterwards practised, taking M. Barbeyrac for his model, who then held the first rank at Montpellier. In 1692 he was appointed physician to the army of Roussillon; the year following a dysentery became epidemical among the troops, and ipecacoanha proving unsuccessful, Chirac gave miHt mixed with lye, made of vine branches, which cured almost all the sick. Some years after he returned to his situation of professor and physician at Montpellier, and was engaged in two disputes, which were the subjects of much conversation; one with M. Vieussens, an eminent physician at Montpellier, on the discovery of the acid of the blood; the other with M. Sorazzi, an Italian physician, on the structure of the hair. He attended the duko of Orleans into Italy 1706, whom he cured of q. wound in the arm, by putting it into the water of Balaruc, which was sent for on purpose. In 1707, he accompanied the s^me prince into Spain, and was appointed his first physician 1713; admitted a free associate of the academy of sciences the following year, and succeeded M. Fagon as superintendant of the king’s garden, 1718. In 1728 he received letters of nobility from his majesty; and in 1730, the place of first physician, vacant by the death of M. Dodart, was conferred upon him. He died March 11, 1732, aged 52. He left 30,000 livres to the university of Montpellier for the purpose of founding two anatomical professorships. M. Chirac was skilful in surgery, and sometimes performed operations himself. He gained great honour during the epidemical disorder which prevailed at Ilochefort, and was called the Siam sickness. When there was danger of an inflammation on the brain in the small-pox, he advised bleeding in the foot. His Dissertations and Consultations, are printed with those of Silva, 3 vols. 12mo.
anstevere, and converted it into a sort of appendage to the Farnese palace, whence it has since been called the Farnesina. But in the ensuing century, the family of Chisi,
, a merchant at Rome, and a patron of literature and the arts, was a native of Siena, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, who having frequent occasion, in his mercantile concerns, to resort to Rome, at length fixed his abode there, and erected for himself a splendid mansion in the Transtevere, which he decorated with works in painting and sculpture by the greatest artists of the time. He had long been considered as the wealthiest merchant in Italy; and on the expedition of Charles VIII. against the kingdom of Naples, had advanced for the use of that monarch a considerable sum of money, which it is thought he never recovered,* His wealth he employed in encouraging painting, sculpture, and every branch of the fine arts, and likewise devoted himself to the restoration of ancient learning. Among the learned men whom he distinguished by his particular favour, was Cornelio Benigno of Viterbo, who united to a sound critical judgment an intimate acquaintance with the Greek tongue, and had before joined with a few other eminent scholars in revising and correcting the geographical work of PtolomsEUs, which was published at Rome in 1507. Under the patronage of Chisi, Cornelio produced at Zaccaria Calliergo’s press, the fine edition of the works of Pindar, 1515, 4to, the first Greek book printed at Rome; and from the same press issued the correct edition of the Idyilia and Epigrams of Theocritus, 1516. It is said that it was not only in his patronage of letters and of the arts that Chisi emulated the Roman pontiffs, but vied with them also in the luxury of his table, and the costly and ostentatious extravagance of his feasts. His death is said to have occurred in 1520. After this event, his family were driven from Rome by Paul III. who seized upon their mansion in the Transtevere, and converted it into a sort of appendage to the Farnese palace, whence it has since been called the Farnesina. But in the ensuing century, the family of Chisi, or Chigi, rose to pontifical honours in the person of Alexander VII. Fabio Chigi who established it in great! credit, without, however, restoring to it the family mansion, which has descended with the possessions of the Farnese to the king of Naples, to whom it now belongs.
, or as he was called Quintus Septimus Florens Christianus, a French poet, was born
, or as he was called Quintus
Septimus Florens Christianus, a French poet, was born at
Orleans Jan. 26, 1541. He was called Quintus, because
he was his father’s fifth child, and Septimus, because he
was born in the seventh month of his mother’s pregnancy.
He was well skilled in languages and in the belles lettres;
and was tutor to Henry IV. whom he educated in the reformed religion; but he himself returned to the Roman
catholic church before his death, which happened in 1596.
He was author of some satires against Ronsard, under the
name of “La Baronnie,
”
, a celebrated stoic philosopher, was born at Soli, a city of Cilicia, afterwards called Pompeiopolis, and was not the disciple of Zeno, as some have
, a celebrated stoic philosopher, was born
at Soli, a city of Cilicia, afterwards called Pompeiopolis,
and was not the disciple of Zeno, as some have said, but
of Cleanthes, Zeno’s successor. He had a very acute
genius, and wrote a great many books, above 700, as we
are told, several of which belonged to logic; for he applied himself with great care to cultivate that part of philosophy. Val. Maximus relates, that he began his 39th
book of logic when he was eighty years old: and Lucian,
who sought out absurdities in order to laugh at them, could
not forbear ridiculing the logical subtilties of this philosopher. The great number of books he composed will not
appear so surprising if it be considered that his manner
was to write several times upon the same subject; to set
down whatever came into his head; to take little pains in
correcting his works; to crowd them with an infinite number of quotations: add to all these circumstances, that he
was very laborious, and lived to a great age. Of his works
nothing remains except a few extracts in the works of
Cicero, Plutarch, Seneca, and Aulus Gellius. He had an
unusual portion of vanity, and often said to Cleanthes,
“Shew me hut the doctrines; that is sufficient for me, and
all I want I shall find the proofs of them myself.
” A
person asked him one day whom he should choose for a
tutor to his son? “Me,
” answered Chrysippus; “for, if
I knew any body more learned than myself, 1 would go and
study under him.
” There is another apophthegm of his
preserved, which does him much more honour than either
of these; and therefore we hope it is not spurious. Being
told that some persons spoke ill of him, “It is no matter,
”
said he, “I will live so, that they shall not be believed.
”
rters with his brother Chrvsostom, as was usual, he had apartments in the empress’s palace, where he called a council, and appointed judges. Chrysostom, however, with much
In the year 400, he went into Asia, at the request of
the clergy of Ephesus; and by deposing thirteen bishops
of Lydia and Phrygia, endeavoured to settle some disorders
which had been occasioned in that church. But while he
was here, a conspiracy was formed against him at home,
by Severian, bishop of Gabala, to whom Chrysostom had
committed the care of his church in his absence, and who
endeavoured to insinuate himself into the favour of the nobility and people, at Chrysostom’s expence. He had even
formed a confederacy against him with his old adversary,
Theophilus of Alexandria, which the empress Eudoxia encouraged, for the sake of revenging some liberties which
Chrysostom had taken in reproving her. By her intrigues,
chiefly, the emperor was prevailed upon to call Theophilus
from Alexandria, and he, who wanted an opportunity to
ruin Chrysostom, came immediately to Constantinople,
and brought several Egyptian bishops with him. Those of
Asia, also, whom Chrysostom had deposed for the tumults
they raised at Ephesus, appeared upon this occasion at
Constantinople against him. Theophilus now arrived, but
instead of taking up his quarters with his brother Chrvsostom, as was usual, he had apartments in the empress’s
palace, where he called a council, and appointed judges.
Chrysostom, however, with much spirit, excepted against
the judges, and refused to appear before the council; declaring that he was not accountable to strangers for any
supposed misdemeanour, but only to the bishops of his
own and the neighbouring provinces. Notwithstanding
this, Theophilus held a synod of bishops, to which he
sumtnoned Chrysostom to appear, and answer to various articles of accusation. But Chrysostom sent three bishops
and two priests to acquaint Theophilus and his synod, that
though he was very ready to submit himself to the judgment of those who should be regularly assembled, and have
a legal right to judge him, yet he absolutely refused to be
judged by him and his synod; and having persisted in this
refusal four several times, he was in consequence deposed in the beginning of the year 403. The news of his
deposition was no sooner spread about Constantinople,
than all the city was in an uproar, and when the emperor
ordered him to be banished, the people determined to
detain him by force. In three days, however, to prevent
any further disturbance, he surrendered himself to those
who had orders to seize him, and was conducted by them
to a small town in Bithynia, as the residence of his banishment. His departure made the people more outrageous
than ever: they prayed the emperor that he might be recalled; they even threatened him; and Eudoxia was so
frightened with the tumult, that she herself solicited for it.
A numerous synod, assembled at Constantinople, now rescinded all former proceedings, and Chrysostom was recalled in triumph; but his troubles were not yet at an
end. The empress about the latter end of this year had
erected her own statue near the church; and the people,
to do honour to her, had celebrated the public games before it. This Chrysostom thought indecent; and the fire
of his zeal, far from being extinguished by his late misfortunes, urged him to preach against those who were concerned in it. His discourse provoked the empress, who
still retained her old enmity to him; and made her resolve
once more to have him deposed from his bishopric. He
irritated her not a little, as soon as he was apprized of her
machinations against him, by most imprudently beginning
one of his sermons with these remarkable words: “Behold
the furious Herodias, insisting to have the head of John
Baptist in a charger!
” We are not to wonder, therefore,
that a synod of bishops was assembled, who immediately
deposed him, alleging that he stood already deposed, by
virtue of the former sentence given against him; which,
they said, had never been reversed, nor himself re-established in hk see, in that legal and orderly manner which
the canons required. In consequence of that judgment, the emperor forbade him to enter the church
any more, and ordered him to be banished. His followers
and adherents were now insulted and persecuted by the
soldiery, and stigmatized particularly by the name of Johannites. He had, indeed, a strong party among the
people, who would now have armed themselves in his defence; but he chose rather to spend the remainder of his
days in banishment, than be the unhappy cause of a civil
war to his country; and therefore surrendered himself a
second time to those who were to have the care of him.
He set out in June 404, under a guard of soldiers, to
Nicca, where he did not make any long stay, but pursued
his jourrjey to Cucusus, the destined place of his banishment, at which he arrived in September. It is remarkable
that the very day Chrysostom left Constantinople, the
great church was set on fire and burnt, together with the
palace, which almost adjoined to it, entirely to the ground.
The same year there fell hail-stones of an extraordinary
size, that did considerable damage to the town; which
calamity was also followed by the death of the empress
Eudoxia, and of Cyrinus, one of Chrysostom’s chief enemies. All these were considered by the partisans of Chrysostom, as so many judgments from heaven upon the
country which thus persecuted Chrysostom.
h occasionally employed him to wait at table, as a servant out of livery* Chubb, however, as what is called an untaught genius, was generally caressed; for nobody suspected
Chubb had no sooner commenced author, than his success in this new capacity introduced him to the personal knowledge of several gentlemen of eminence and letters, from whose generosity he received occasionally presents of money. We are even told that sir Joseph Jekyll, master of the rolls, took him into his family, and used, at his hours of retirement, to refresh himself from the fatigues of business with his conversation; but the value of this patronage is considerably lessened, when it is added that sir Joseph occasionally employed him to wait at table, as a servant out of livery* Chubb, however, as what is called an untaught genius, was generally caressed; for nobody suspected as yet, to what prodigious lengths he would suffer his reasoning faculty to carry him. He did not coptinue many years with sir Joseph Jekyll, though it is said he was tempted to it by the offer of a genteel allowance, but retired to his friend at Salisbury, where he spent his days in reading and writing, and assisting at the trade, which, by the death of his partner, had devolved on a nephew, and was to the last period of his life a coadjutor in it. Yet that this may not appear a degradation, we are gravely told that he only sold candles by weight in the shop, and did not actually make them. In this mixed employment he passed his life, and died suddenly at Salisbury, Feb. 8, 1746-7, in the sixty-eighth year of his age.
ed by her mother in a poem entitled “A Dialogue between Lucinda and Marissa.” She wrote another poem called “The Ladies Defence,” occasioned by an angry sermon preached
, who had the character of
a very philosophic and poetic lady, was born in 1656, and
was the daughter of Richard Lee, of Winsloder, in Devonshire, esq. She was married to sir George Chudleigh,
bart. by whom she had several children; among the rest,
Eliza-Maria, who dying in the bloom of life, was lamented
by her mother in a poem entitled “A Dialogue between
Lucinda and Marissa.
” She wrote another poem called
“The Ladies Defence,
” occasioned by an angry sermon
preached against the fair sex. These, with many others,
were collected into a volume in 1703, and printed a third
time in 1722. She published also a volume of Essays upon
various subjects in verse and prose, in 1710, which have
been much admired far delicacy of style. These were dedicated to her royal highness the princess Sophia, electress
and duchess dowager of Brunswick; on which occasion
that princess, then in her eightieth year, honoured her
with a very polite epistle.
In the beginning of 1710 the French set on foot a new negotiation for a peace, which was commonly called the treaty of Gertruydenburg. The States upon this having shewn
In the beginning of 1710 the French set on foot a new
negotiation for a peace, which was commonly called the
treaty of Gertruydenburg. The States upon this having
shewn an inclination to enter into conferences with the
French plenipotentiaries, the house of commons immediately framed an address to the queen, that she would be
pleased to send the duke of Marlborough over to the
Hague. Accordingly, towards the latter end of February
he went to the Hague, where he met with prince Eugene,
and soon after set out with him for the army, which was
assembled in the neighbourhood of Tournay. This campaign was very successful, many towns being taken and
fortresses reduced: notwithstanding which, when the duke
came over to England, as he did about the middle of December, he found his interest declining, and his services
undervalued. The negotiations for peace were carried on
during a great part of the summer, but ended at last in
nothing. In the midst of the summer, the queen began
the great change in her ministry, by removing the earl of
Sunderland from being secretary of state; and on Aug. 8,
the lord treasurer Godolphin was likewise removed. Upon
the meeting of parliament no notice was taken in the addresses of the duke of Marlborough’s success: an attempt
indeed was made to procure him the thanks of the house
of peers, but it was eagerly opposed by the duke of Argyle.
His grace was kindly received by the queen, who seemed
desirous to have him live upon good terms with her new
ministry; but this was thought impracticable, and it was
every day expected that he would lay down his commission.
He did not do this; but he carried the golden key, the
ensign of the duchess of Marl borough’s office, January
19, 1711, to the queen, and resigned all her employments
with great duty and submission. With the same firmness
and composure he consulted the necessary measures for
the next campaign, with those whom he knew to be no
friends of his; and treated all parties with candour and
respect. There is no doubt that the duke felt some inward disquiet, though he shewed no outward concern, at
least for himself: but when the earl of Galway was very
indecently treated in the house of lords, the duke of Marlborough could not help saying, “it was somewhat strange,
that generals, who had acted according to the best of their
understandings, and had lost their limbs in their service,
should be examined like offenders about insignificant things.
”
An exterior civility, in court language styled a good
understanding, being established between the duke and
the new ministry, the duke went over to the Hague, to
prepare for the next campaign, which at the same time he
knew would be his last. He exerted himself in an uncommon manner, and was attended with the same success as
usual. There was in this campaign a continued trial of
skill between the duke of Marlborough and marshal Villars;
and brave and judicious as the latter was, he was obliged
at length to submit to the former. The duke embarked
for England when the campaign was over, and came to
London Nov. 8; and happening to land the very night of
queen Elizabeth’s inauguration, when great rejoicings were
intended by the populace, he continued very prudently at
Greenwich, and the next day waited on the queen at
Hampton-court, who received him graciously. He was
visited by the ministers, and visited them; but he did not
go to council, because a negotiation of peace was then on
the carpet, upon a basis which he did by no means approve. He acquainted her majesty in the audience he had
at his arrival, that as he could not concur in the measures
of those who directed her councils, so he would not distract them by a fruitless opposition. Yet finding himself
attacked in the house of lords, and loaded with the imputation 5 of having protracted the war, he vindicated his conduct and character with great dignity and spirit; and in a
most pathetic speech appealed to the queen his mistress,
who was there incognito, for the falsehood of thut imputation; declaring, that he was as much for peace as any man,
provided it was such a peace as might be expected from
a war undertaken on such just motives, and carried on
with uninterrupted success. This had a great effect on
that august assembly, and perhaps made some impression on the queen; but at the same time it gave such an
edge to the resentment of his enemies, who were then in
power, that they resolved at all adventures to remove him.
Those who were thus resolved to divest him of his commission, found themselves under a necessity to engage the
queen to take it from him. This necessity arose chiefly
from prince Eugene’s being expected to come over with a
commission from the emperor; and to give some kind of
colour to it, an inquiry was promoted in the house of commons, to fix a very high imputation upon the duke, as if he
had put very large sums of public money into his own pocket.
When a question to this purpose had been carried, the
queen, by a letter, conceived in very obscure terms, acquainted him with her having no farther occasion for his
service, and dismissed him from all his employments.
portrait of the duchess of Buckingham, she soon stopped the person that was reading them to her, and called out aloud—“I cannot be so imposed upon—I see plainly enough
It is well known that Pope’s character of Atossa was designed for her; and when these lines were shewn to her
grace, as if they were intended for the portrait of the
duchess of Buckingham, she soon stopped the person that
was reading them to her, and called out aloud—“I cannot
be so imposed upon—I see plainly enough for whom they
are designed;
” and abused Pope for the attack, though she
was afterwards reconciled to, and courted him. The violence of the duchess of Marlborough‘ s temper, which is so
strongly painted in the character of Atossa, frequently
broke out into wonderful and ridiculous indecencies. In
the last illness of the great duke her husband, when Dr.
Mead left his chamber, the duchess, disliking his advice,
followed him down stairs, swore at him bitterly, and was
going to tear oft’ his perriwig. Dr. Hoadly, the late bishop
of Winchester, was present at this scene. Disappointed
ambition, great wealth, and increasing years, rendered her
more and more peevish. She hated courts, says lord Hailes,
over which she had no influence, and she became at length
the most ferocious animal that is suffered to go loose a
violent party-woman. In the latter part of her life she
became bed-ridden. Paper, pens, and ink were placed by
her side, and she used occasionally to write down either
what she remembered, or what came into her head. A selection from these loose papers was made in the way of
diary, by sir David Dalryraple, lord Hailes, under the title
of “The Opinions of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough,
published from the original Mss.
” 1788, 12mo, which
Mr. Park, who has given a specimen, very properly characterises as the effusions of caprice and arrogance. This
lady died Oct. 18, 1744.
ks, “because he had addressed many of the noblemen of Elizabeth’s court for near forty years, and is called by one of his contemporaries, the old court poet.” He appears,
, a voluminous poet of the
sixteenth century, w,as born in Shrewsbury about the year
1520. Wood, who has given a long account of him, says
he was of a genteel family, and well educated; and that at
the age of seventeen, his father gave him a sum of money,
and sent him to court, where he lived in gaiety while his
finances lasted. He does not seem, however, to have
gained any thing by his attendance at court, except his
introduction to the celebrated earl of Surrey, with whom
he lived some time as domestic, and by whose encouragement he produced some of his poems. He certainly had
no public employment either now or in queen Elizabeth’s
reign, although some have denominated him poet laureat,
merely, as Mr. Malone thinks, “because he had addressed
many of the noblemen of Elizabeth’s court for near forty
years, and is called by one of his contemporaries, the old
court poet.
” He appears, however, to have continued with
the earl of Surrey, until this virtuous and amiable nobleman was sacrificed to the tyrannical caprice of Henry VIII.
Churchyard now became a soldier, and made several campaigns on the continent, in Ireland, and in Scotland.
Tanner is inclined to think that he served the emperor in
Flanders against the French in the reign of Henry VIII.;
but the differences of dates between his biographers are
not now so reconcileable as to enable us to decide upon this
part of his history. Wood next informs us that he spent
some time at Oxford, and was afterwards patronized by the
earl of Leicester. He then became enamoured of a rich
widow; but his passion not meeting with success, he once
more returned to the profession of arms, engaged in foreign
service, in which he suffered great hardships, and met with
many adventures of the romantic kind; and in the course
of them appears to have been always a favourite among the
ladies. At one time, in Flanders, he was taken prisoner,
but escaped by the “endeavours of a lady of considerable
quality;
” and at another time, when condemned to death as
a spy, he was reprieved and sent away by the “endeavours
of a noble dame.
” On his return he published a great
variety of poems on all subjects; but there is reason to
think that by these he gained more applause than profit, as
it is very certain that he lived and died poor. The time of
his death, until lately was not ascertained; Winstanley and
Cibber place that event in 1570, Fuller in 1602, and Oldys
in 1604, which last is correct. Mr. George Chalmers, in.
his “Apology for the believers in the Shakspeare Mss.
”
gives us an extract from the parish register, proving that
he was buried April 4, of that year, in St. Margaret’s
church, Westminster, near the grave of Skelton. Mr.
D'Israeli, who has introduced him in his “Calamities of
Authors,
” very aptly characterises him as “one of those
unfortunate men, who have written poetry all their days,
and lived a long life, to complete the misfortune.
” His
works are minutely enumerated by Ritson in his “Bibliographia Poetica,
” and some well- selected specimens have
lately appeared in the Censura Literaria. The best of his
poems, in point of genius, is his “Legende of Jane Shore,
”
and the most popular, his “Worthiness of Wales,
” an excellent
soldier, and a man of honest principles,
” who in
have another trial, he resolved to shew himself as a writer. With this view he wrote his first play, called “Love’s last Shift,” acted Jan. 1695, in which he performed
All this applause, however, did not advance him in the
manner he had reason to expect and therefore, that his
ambition might have another trial, he resolved to shew
himself as a writer. With this view he wrote his first play,
called “Love’s last Shift,
” acted Jan. that my muse and my spouse (for he was married at this time) were equally prolific; the one
was seldom the mother of a child, but in the same year
the other made me the father of a play. I think we had
a dozen of each sort between us; of both which kinds some
died in their infancy, and near an equal number of each
were alive when I quitted the theatre.
”
ble. But of all his plays, none was of more importance to the public and to himself, than his comedy called the “Nonjuror,” which was acted in 1717, and dedicated to the
The “Careless Husband,
” which is reckoned his best
play, was acted in Nonjuror,
” which was acted in Weekly Journal,
” and of all
the Jacobite faction. But this is not an exact state of the
case. It is true that he incurred the ridicule of the Jacobites, but the Jacobites only laughed at him in common
with all the wits of the day. This general contempt was
afterwards heightened by Pope’s making him the hero of
the “Duneiad
” instead of Theobald, a transfer undoubtedly mean and absurd on Pope’s part, since what was
written for Theobald, a dull plodder, could never suit
Cibber, a gay lively writer, and certainly a man of wit
However, if the Nonjuror brought upon its author some
imaginary evils, it procured him also some advantage, for
when he presented it to George I. the king ordered him
200l. and the merit of it, as he himself confesses, made
him poet-laureat in 1730. Here again he incurred the
ridicule of his brother wits, by his annual odes, which had
no merit but their loyalty, lyric poetry being a species of
writing for which he had not the least talent, and which
he probably would not have attempted, had not his office
rendered it necessary. These repeated efforts of his enemies sometimes hindered the success of his dramatic
pieces; and the attacks against him, in verse and in prose,
were now numerous and incessant, as appears by the early
volumes of the Gentleman’s Magazine. But he appears
to have been so little affected by them, that he joined
heartily in the laugh agaiost himself:, and even contributed to increase the merriment of the public at his own
expence.
ion of Mr. Coxeter' s books, was bought by Theophilus Cibber. On the strength of it, the compilation called “The Lives of the Poets” was undertaken.
As a writer, he has not rendered himself very conspicuous, excepting in some appeals to the public, written
in a fantastical style, on peculiar circumstances of his own
distressed life. He altered for the stage three pieces of
other authors, and produced one of his own, viz. 1.
“Henry VI.
” a tragedy from Shakspeare. 2. “The
Lover,
” a comedy. 3. “Pattie and Peggy,
” a ballad
opera. 4. An alteration of Shakspeare’s “Romeo and
Juliet.
” His name has also appeared to a series of “The
Lives of the Poets,
” 5 vols.,12mo, with which some have
said he had no concern. Two accounts, however, have
lately been published, which we shall endeavour to incorporate, as they do not difl'er in any material point, and
indeed the one may be considered as a sequel to the other.
The first is taken from a note written by Dr. Caider for
the edition of the Tatler printed in 1786, 6 vols. 12mo.
By this we learn that Mr. Oldys, on his departure from
London, in 1724, to reside in Yorkshire, left in the care of
the rev. Mr. Burridge, with whom he had lodged for several
years, among many other books, &c. a copy r of Langbaine’s “Lives, &c.
” in which he (Mr. Oldys) had written
notes and references for further information. Returning
to London in 1730, Mr. Oldys discovered that his books
were dispersed, and that Mr. Thomas Coxeter had bought
this copy of Langbaine, and would not even permit Mr,
Oldys to transcribe his notes from it into another copy of
Langbaine, in which he likewise wrote annotations. This
last annotated copy, at an auction of Oldys’s books, Dr,
Birch purchased for a guinea, and left it by will, with his
other books, to the British Museum. Mr. T. Coxeter,
who died in April 1747, had added his own notes to those
of Mr. Oldys, in the first copy of Langbaine above-mentioned, which, at the auction of Mr. Coxeter' s books, was
bought by Theophilus Cibber. On the strength of it, the
compilation called “The Lives of the Poets
” was undertaken.
ture of the climate, was surrounded with groves and shady walks, leading from the -house to a river, called Fibrenus; which was divided into two equal streams by a little
The family seat, about three miles from the town, in a situation extremely pleasant, and well adapted to the nature of the climate, was surrounded with groves and shady walks, leading from the -house to a river, called Fibrenus; which was divided into two equal streams by a little island, covered with trees and a portico, contrived both for study and exercise, whither Cicero used to retire, when he had any particular work upon his hands. The clearness and rapidity of the stream, murmuring through a rocky channel the shade and verdure of its banks, planted with tall poplars the remarkable coldness of the water; and, above all, its falling by a cascade into the noble river Liris, a little below the island, form the parts of a scene which Cicero himself has, in several parts of his works, depicted. But there cannot be a better proof of its delightfulness, than that it was afterwards and in very modern times possessed by a convent of monks, and called the Villa of St. Dominic.
had built several rooms and galleries, in imitation of the schools and porticos of Athens; which he called likewise by their Attic names of the Academy and Gymnasium,
After the expiration of his ædileship, his cousin L. Cicero, the late companion of his journey to Sicily, died an event the more unfortunate at this juncture, because he wanted his help in making interest for the prsetorship, for which he now offered himself a candidate. However, such was the people’s regard for him, that in three different assemhlies convened for the choice of praetors, two of which were dissolved without effect, he was declared every time the first proctor, by the suffrages of all the centuries. This year a law was proposed by Manilius, one of the tribunes, that Pompey, who was then in Cilicia, extinguishing the remains of the piratic war, should have the government of Asia added to his commission, with the command of the Mithridatic war, and of all the Roman armies in those parts. Cicero supported this law with all his eloquence in a speech still extant, from the rostra, which he never mounted till this occasion; where, in displaying the character of Pompey, he drew the picture of a consummate general, with great strength and beauty. He was now in sight of the consulship, the grand object of his ambition; and therefore, when his praetorship was at an end, he would not accept any foreign province, the usual reward of that magistracy, and the usual object with those who held it. So attached indeed was he to a certain path to renown, that amidst all the hurry and noise of his busy life, he never neglected those arts and studies in which he had been educated, but paid a constant attention to every thing which deserved the notice of a scholar and a man of taste. Even at this very juncture, though his ambition was eagerly fixed on the consulship, he could find time to write to Atticus about statues and books. Atticus resided many. years at Athens, where Cicero employed him to buy statues for the ornament of his several villas; especially his favourite Tusculum, his usual retreat from the hurry and fatigues of the city. Here he had built several rooms and galleries, in imitation of the schools and porticos of Athens; which he called likewise by their Attic names of the Academy and Gymnasium, and designed for the same use, of philosophical conferences with his learned friends. He had given Atticus a general commission to purchase for him any piece of Grecian art or sculpture, that was elegant and curious, illustrative of literature, or proper for the furniture of his academy; which Atticus executed to his great satisfaction. Nor was he less eager in collecting Greek books, and forming a library, by the assistance of Atticus, who, having the same taste and free access to all the libraries of Athens, procured copies of the works of their best writers, not only for his own use, but for sale also. Having with much pains made a very large collection of choice and curious books, he signified to Cicero his design of selling them; yet seems to have intimated that he expected a larger sum for them than Cicero could easily spare; which induced Cicero to beg of him to reserve the whole number for him, till he could raise money enough for the purchase.
ho had first imported the public honours into their families: Cicero was the only new man, as he was called, amongst them, or one born of equestrian rank. Two of them,
Cicero being now in his forty-third year, the proper age
required by law, declared himself a candidate for the consulship along with six competitors. The two first were
patricians; the two next plebeians, yet noble; the two
last the sons of fathers, who had first imported the public
honours into their families: Cicero was the only new man,
as he was called, amongst them, or one born of equestrian
rank. Two of them, C. Antonius and Catiline, employed
bribery on this occasion in the most shameful manner, but
as the election approached, Cicero’s interest appeared
to be superior to that of all the candidates, and in his case,
instead of choosing consuls by a kind of ballot, or little
tickets of wood distributed to the citizens with the names
of the several candidates severally inscribed upon each,
the people loudly and universally proclaimed Cicero the
first consul; so that, as he himself says, “he was not
chosen by the votes of particular citizens, but the common
suffrage of the city; nor declared by the voice of the crier,
but of the whole Roman people.
” This year several alterations happened in his own family. His father died; his
daughter Tullia was given in marriage at the age of thirteen
to C. Piso Frugi, a young nobleman of great hopes, and
one of the best families in Rome; and his son and heir
was also born in the same year.
e time to deliberate on an affair of so great importance: and the day following, in a full house, he called upon Catiline to clear himself of this charge; where, without
The next transaction of moment in which he was engaged, was the defence of C. Rabirius, an aged senator,
in whose favour there is an oration of his still extant. But
that which constituted the glory of his consulship, was the
suppression of that horrid conspiracy which was formed
by Catiline, the model of all traitors since, for the subversion of the commonwealth. Catiline was now renewing his
efforts for the consulship with greater vigour than ever,
and by such open methods of bribery, that Cicero published a new law against it, with the additional penalty of
a ten years’ exile. Catiline, who knew the law to be levelled at himself, formed a design to kill Cicero, with some
other chiefs of the senate, on the day of election, which
was appointed for October 20. But Cicero gave information of it to the senate, the day before, upon which the
election was deferred, that they might have time to deliberate on an affair of so great importance: and the day
following, in a full house, he called upon Catiline to clear
himself of this charge; where, without denying or excusing it, he bluntly told them,> that “there were two bodies
in the republic,
” meaning the senate and the people, “the
one of them infirm with a weak head; the other firm without a head; which last had so well deserved of him, that it
should never want a head while he lived.
” He had made
a declaration of the same kind, and in the same place, a
few days before, when, upon Cato’s threatening him with
an impeachment, he fiercely replied, that, “if any flame
should be excited in his fortunes, he would extinguish it,
not with water, but a general ruin.
” These declarations
startled the senate, and convinced them, that nothing but
a desperate conspiracy, ripe for execution, could inspire
so daring an assurance:. so that they proceeded immediately to that decree, which was the usual refuge in all
cases of imminent danger, “of ordering the consuls to
take care that the republic received no harm.
”
ulship, and breathing nothing but revenge, was now eager and impatient to execute his grand plot. He called a council therefore of all the conspirators, to settle the plan
Catiline, repulsed a second time from the consulship, and breathing nothing but revenge, was now eager and impatient to execute his grand plot. He called a council therefore of all the conspirators, to settle the plan of the work, and divide the parts of it among themselves, and fix a proper day for the execution. The number of their chiefs was above thirty-five partly of the senatorial!, partly of the equestrian order the senators were P. Cornelius Lentulus, C. Cethegus, P. Autronius, L. Cassius Longinus, P. Sylla, Serv. Sylla, L,. Vargtinteius, Q. Curius, Q. Annius, M. Porcius Lecca, L. Bestia. At a meeting of these it was resolved that a general insurrection should be raised through Italy, the different parts of which were assigned to different leaders: that Rome should be fired in many places at once, and a massacre begun at the same time of the whole senate and all their enemies; that in the consternation of the fire and massacre, Catiline should be ready with his Tuscan army, to take the benefit of the public confusion, and make himself master of the city, where Lentulus in the mean time, as first in dignity, was to preside in their general councils; Cassius to manage the affair of firing it; Cethegus to direct the massacre. But the vigilance of Cicero being the chief obstacle to all their hopes, Catiline was very desirous to see him taken off before he left Rome: upon which two knights of the company undertook to kill him the next morning in his bed, in an early visit on pretence of business. They were both of his acquaintance, and used to frequent his house; and knowing his custom of giving free access to all, made no doubt of being readily admitted, as one of the two afterwards confessed. But the meeting was no sooner over, than Cicero had information of all that passed in it; for by the intrigues of a woman named Fulvia, he had gained over Curius her gallant, one of the conspirators of senatorian rank, to send him a punctual account of all their deliberations. He presently imparted his intelligence to some of the chiefs of the city, who were assembled that evening, as usual, at his house; informing them not only of the design, but naming the men who were to execute it, and the very hour when they would he at his gate. All which fell out exactly as he foretold; for the two knights came before break of day, but had the mortification to find the house well guarded, and all admittance refused to them.
e ambassadors of the Allobroges; a warlike, mutinous, faithless people, inhabiting the countries now called Savoy and Dauphiny, greatly disaffected to the Roman power,
In the mean time Lentulus, and the rest of Catiline’s associates, who were left in the city, were preparing for the execution of their grand design, and soliciting men of all ranks, who seemed likely to favour their cause. Among the rest they agreed to make an attempt upon the ambassadors of the Allobroges; a warlike, mutinous, faithless people, inhabiting the countries now called Savoy and Dauphiny, greatly disaffected to the Roman power, and already ripe for rebellion. These ambassadors, who were preparing to return home, much out of humour with the senate, and without any redress of the grievances they were sent to complain of, received the proposal at first very greedily; but reflecting afterwards on the difficulty and danger of the enterprise, discovered what they knew to Q. Fabius Sanga, the patron of their city, who immediately gave intelligence of it to the consul. Cicero advised the ambassadors to feign the same zeal which they had hitherto shewn, till they had got distinct proofs against the particular actors in it: and that then upon their leaving Rome in the night, they might be arrested with their papers and letters about them. All this was successfully executed, and the whole company brought prisoners to Cicero’s house by break of day. Cicero summoned the senate to meet immediately, and sent at the same time for Gabinius, Statilius, Cethegus, and Lentulus; who all came, suspecting nothing of the discovery. With them, and the ambassadors in custody, he set out to meet the senate: and after he had given an account of the whole affair, Vulturcius, one of the conspirators who was taken with the ambassadors, was called in to be examined separately; who soon confessed, that he had letters and instructions from Lentulus to Catiline, to press him to accept the assistance of the slaves, and to lead his army with all expedition towards Rome, to the intent that when it should be set on fire in different places, and the general massacre Gegun, he might be at hand to intercept those who escaped, and join with his friends in the city. The ambassadors were examined next; who produced letters to their nation from Lentulus, Cethegus, and Statilius, which so confounded the conspirators, that they had nothing to say. After the criminals were withdrawn and committed to close custody, the senate unanimously resolved that public thanks should be decreed to Cicero in the amplest manner; by whose virtue, council, and providence, the republic was delivered from the greatest dangers. Cicero however thought it prudent to bring the question of their punishment without further delay before the senate, which he summoned for that purpose the next morning. As soon as he had opened the business, Silanus, the consul elect, advised, that those who were then in custody, with the rest who should afterwards be taken, should all be put to death. To this all who spoke after him readily assented, except J. Caesar, then praetor elect, who gave it as his opinion, that the estates of the conspirators should be confiscated, and their persons closely confined in the strong towns of Italy. This had Jike to have been adopted, when Cicero rose up, and made his fourth speech which now remains on the subject of this transaction; which turned the scale in favour of Silanus’s opinion. The vote was no sooner passed, than Cicero resolved to put it in execution, lest the night, which was coming on, should produce any new disturbance. He went therefore from the senate, attended by a numerous guard; and taking Lentulus from his custody, conveyed him through the forum to the common prison, where he was presently strangled, as were Cethegus, Statilius, and Gabinius. Catiline in the mean time was enabled to make a stouter resistance than they iuiagined, having filled up his troops to the number of two legions, or about 12,000 fighting men; but when the account came of the death of Lentulus and the. rest, his army began to desert, and after many fruitless attempts to escape into Gaul by long marches and private roads through the Apennines, he was forced at length to a battle; in which, after a sharp and bloody action, He and all his army were entirely destroyed. Thus ended this famed conspiracy: and Cicero, for the great part he acted in the suppression of it, was honoured with the glorious title of Pater Patria3, which he. retained for a long time after.
The first triumvirate, as it has commonly been called, was now formed; which was in reality a traitorous conspiracy
The first triumvirate, as it has commonly been called, was now formed; which was in reality a traitorous conspiracy of three of the most powerful citizens of Rome, Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus, to extort from their country by violence, what they could not obtain by law. Cicero might have been admitted a partner in their league: but he would not enjer into any engagements, which he and all the friends of the republic abhorred. Clodius now began to threaten Cicero with all the -terrors of his tribunate, to which he had been chosen without any opposition. Ctesar’s whole aim was to subdue Cicero’s spirit, and force him to A dependence upon him: and therefore while he was privately encouraging Clodius, he vras proposing expedients to Cicero for his security. But though his enemies seemed to gain ground, he was unwilling to owe the obligation of his safety to Caesar, whose designs he always suspected, and whose measures he never approved, and who now therefore resolved to assist Clodius with all his power to oppress him; while Pompey gave him the strongest assurances, confirmed by oaths and vows, that he would sooner be killed himself, than suffer him to be hurt. Clodius in the mean time was courting the people by several new laws, contrived chiefly for their advantage, that he might introduce with a better grace the banishment of Cicero: which was now directly attempted by a special law, importing, that whoever had taken the life of a citizen uncondemned and without trial, should be prohibited from fire and water. Though Cicero was not named, yet he was marked out by the law: his crime was, the putting Catiline’s accomplices to death; which, though done by a general vote of the senate, was alleged to be illegal, and contrary to the liberties of the people. Cicero, finding himself thus reduced to the condition of a criminal, changed his habit upon it, as was usual in the case of a public impeachment; which, however, was thought an hasty and inconsiderate step, since he was not named in the law, which reached only to those who had taken the life of a citizen illegally: but it seems doubtful whether his taking no notice of it would have saved him, as the combination against him was deeply laid. Even Caesar, who affected great moderation, was secretly his adversary; and Pompey became reserved, and at last flatly refused to help him: while the Clodian faction treated his character and consulship with the utmost derision, and even insulted his person in the public streets. Cicero now called a council of his friends, to decide whether it was best to defend himself by force, or to save the effusion of blood by retreating till the storm should blow over: and the issue was, that he should submit to a voluntary exile.
-house, which Cicero tells us he had the pleasure to see, than Brutus, lifting up his bloody dagger, called upon him by name, to congratulate with him on the recovery of
After the battle of Pharsalia, in which Pompey was defeated, Cicero returned to Italy, and was afterwards received into great favour by Caesar, who was now declared
dictator for the second time, and Marc Antony his master
of the horse. At his interview with Caesar he had no occasion to depart from the dignity of his character, for Caesar
no sooner saw him than he alighted, and ran to embrace
him, and walked with him alone, conversing very familiarly for several furlongs. About the end of the year,
Caesar embarked for Africa, to pursue the war against the
Pompeian generals, and Cicero, despairing of any good
from either side, chose to live retired; and whether in the
city or the country, shut himself up with his books; which,
as he often says, “had hitherto been the diversion only, but
were now become the support of his life.
” In this retreat
he entered into a close friendship and correspondence with
M. Terentius Varro, who is said to have been the most
learned of all the Romans; and wrote two of those pieces
upon orators and oratory, which are still extant in his works.
He was now in his sixty-first year, and having been divorced from his wife Terentia, he incurred both censure
and ridicule for marrying a handsome young woman named
Publilia, of an age disproportioned to his own, and to
whom he was guardian. But at present he was yet more
imprudent in frequently hazarding Caesar’s displeasure by
his sarcastic remarks. Some of these jests upon Caesar’s
administration are still preserved, and shew an extraordinary want of caution in times so critical. Caesar had
advanced Laberius, a celebrated player, to the order of
knights; but when he stepped from the stage to take his
place on the equestrian benches, none of the knights would
admit him to a seat amongst them. Cicero, however, as
he was marching off therefore with disgrace, said, “I
would make room for you here on our bench, if we were
not already too much crowded:
” alluding to Caesar’s filling
up the senate also with the lowest of his creatures, and even
with strangers and barbarians. At another time, being
desired by a friend in a public company to procure for his
son the rank of a senator in one of the corporate towns of
Italy, He shall have it,“says he,
” if you please, at
Rome; but it will be difficult at Pompeii.“An acquaintance likewise from Laodicea, coming to pay his respects
to him, and being asked what business had brought him to
Rome, said, that he was sent upon an embassy to Caesar,
to intercede with him for the liberty of his country: upon
which Cicero replied,
” If you succeed, you shall be an
ambassador also for us." Caesar, it must be allowed, to
his honour, preserved such a reverence for his character,
that he gave him many marks of personal favour; and this
influence Cicero employed only to screen himself in the
general misery of the times, and to serve those unhappy
men who were driven from their country and families for
the adherence to that cause which he himself had espoused.
Cicero was now oppressed by a new affliction, the death
of his beloved daughter Tullia; who died in childbed,
soon after her divorce from her third husband Dolabella.
She was about thirty-two years old at the time of her
death, and was most affectionate to her father. To the
usual graces of her sex, she added the more solid accomplishments of knowledge and polite letters, was qualified
to be the companion as well as the delight of his age; and
was justly esteemed not only as one of the best, but the
most learned of the Roman ladies. His affliction for the
death of this daughter was so great, that he endeavoured
to shun all company by removing to Atticus’s house, where
h'e lived chiefly in his library, turning over every book he
could meet with on the subject of moderating grief. But,
rinding his residence even here too public, he retired to
Asturia, one ol his seats near Antium, a little island on the
Latian shore, at the mouth of a river of the same name,
covered with woods and groves, cut out into shady walks;
a scene of all others the fittest to indulge melancholy, and
where his whole time was employed in reading and writing.
After the death of Caesar, Cicero was freed at once from
all subjection to a superior, whose power he perpetually
dreaded, and was now without competition the first citizen
in Rome, the first in credit and authority both with the
senate and people. The conspirators had no sooner killed
Caesar in the senate-house, which Cicero tells us he had
the pleasure to see, than Brutus, lifting up his bloody
dagger, called upon him by name, to congratulate with
him on the recovery of their liberty. It is evident from
several of his letters, that he had an expectation- of such
an attempt; for he prophesied very early, that Caesar’s
reign could not last six months, but must necessarily fall,
either by violence, or of itself; nay farther, he hoped to
live to see it; yet it is equally certain that he had no hand
in it, nor was at all acquainted with it.
trait in his history, a society was formed in America at the close of the revolutionary war in 1783, called the order of the Cincinnati, but it met with some opposition,
, was a celebrated Roman, who was taken from the plough to be consul and, a second time, to be dictator, 458 A. C. when the army of the consul, Marcus Minutius, was on the point of being forced in its entrenchments by the -/Equi and Volsci. Cincinnatus conquered these enemies, made them pass under the yoke; and, having triumphed, returned to his plough. He was created dictator a second time when eighty years of age, vanquished the Praenestians, and abdicated twentyone days after. The time of his death is not known. From the leading trait in his history, a society was formed in America at the close of the revolutionary war in 1783, called the order of the Cincinnati, but it met with some opposition, although it still subsists, principally in the form of a charitable institution.
719 Dr. Stebbing published an abridgment of the two parts mentioned above. 2. “A Reply to a pamphlet called The Mischief of Impositions, by Mr. Alsop, which pretends to
, eldest son of the preceding,
was born at St. Edmundsbury, in Suffolk, September 14,
1646, and educated in the free-school there, under the
care of Dr. Thomas Stephens, author of the notes on Statius’s Sylvse, who took very early notice of the promising
parts of his scholar. Before he was full thirteen years of
age, he was admitted a pensioner in Emanuel-college, in
Cambridge, September 5, 1659, under the tuition of Mr.
Thomas Jackson, where he took his degree of A. B. 1663,
A.M. 1667, and commenced D. D. in 1683. He was
then chosen one of the preachers of St. Edmundsbury,
which office he discharged for seven years with universal
reputation. From thence, at the instance of some considerable men of the long robe, whose business at the assizes there gave them opportunities of being acquainted
with his great worth and abilities, he was thought worthy
by the society of Gray’s-inn, to succeed the eminent Dr.
Cradock, as their preacher, which he continued to be all
the remaining part of his life, much to the satisfaction of
the society. He was also presented by the lord keeper
North (who was his wife’s kinsman) to the rectory of Farnham-royal, in Buckinghamshire, into which he was instituted May 14, 1683; but what he most valued next to his
preacher’s place at Gray’s-inn, was the lectureship of St.
Michael Bassishaw, to which he was elected by that parish
about two years before his death. He was also chaplain in
ordinary to his majesty. He was cut off, however, in the
prime of life. He was seized with the small-pox on a
Sunday evening, March the 16th, after having preached
at St. Martin in the Fields, in his Lent course there; and
died March 28, 1638. He was buried in a vault under part
of the church of St. Michael Bassishaw, in the grave
with his wife, Mrs. Thornasin North, a most virtuous and
accomplished woman, who died eighteen days after him,
of the same disease. We are assured by the testimony of
Dr. Sharp, that no man of a private condition, in the last
age, died more lamented, and his private virtuesand
public services are spoken of by all his contemporaries in
the highest terms. Bishop Burnet ranks him among those
worthy and eminent men whose lives and labours in a great
measure rescued the church from those reproaches that
the follies of others drew upon it; nor ought it to be forgotten, that he was one of those excellent divines who
made that noble stand against popery in the reign of king
James II. which will redound to their immortal honour.
The several things published by Dr. Clagett, are as follows: 1. “A Discourse concerning the Operations of the
Holy Spirit; with a confutation of some part of Dr. Owen’s
book upon that subject,
” Part I. Lond. A Reply to a pamphlet called
The Mischief of Impositions, by Mr. Alsop, which pretends to answer the dean of St. Paul’s (Dr. Stillingfleet’s)
Sermon concerning the Mischief of Separation,
” Lond.
An Answer to the Dissenters’ Objections
against the Common Prayers, and some other parts of the
divine service prescribed in the Liturgy of the Church of
England,
” Lond. The Difference of the
Case between the Separation of Protestants fromthe
Church of Rome, and the Separation of Dissenters from
the Church of England,
” Lond. The
State of the Church of Rome when the Reformation began, as it appears by the advices given to pope Paul III.
and Julius III. by creatures of their own.
” 6. “A Discourse concerning the Invocation of the Blessed Virgin
and the Saints,
” Lond. A Paraphrase,
with notes, upon the sixth Chapter of St. John, shewing
that there is neither good reason, nor sufficient authority
to suppose that the Eucharist is discoursed of in that
chapter, much less to infer the doctrine of Transubstantiation from it.
” Lond. 1686, 4to. Reprinted in 1689,
8vo, at the end of his second volume of sermons. 8. “Of
the Humanity and Chanty of Christians. A Sermon
preached at the Suffolk Feast, at St. Michael, Cornhill,
London, November 30, 1686.
” 9. “A Discourse concerning the pretended Sacrament of Extreme Unction,
&.c.
” in three parts. “With a letter to the Vindicator of
the bishop of Condom,
” Lond. A second letter to the Vindicator of the bishop of Condom,
”
Lond. Authority of Councils, and the
Rule of Faith, with an answer to the Eight Theses laid
down for the Trial of the English Reformation.
” The first
part, about Councils, by Hutchinson, esq. the rest
by Dr. Clagett, 4to. 12. “Notion of Idolatry considered
and confuted,
” Lond. Cardinal Bellarmine’s
seventh note, of the Union of the Members among themselves, and with the Head.
” 14. “His twelfth note, Of
the Light of Prophecy, examined and confuted.
” 15. “A
View of the whole Controversy between the Representer
and the Answerer; in which are laid open some of the
methods by which Protestants are misrepresented by Papists,
” Lond. An Answer to the Representer’s Reflections upon the State and View of the Controversy. With a Reply to the Vindicator’s full Answer;
shewing that the Vindicator has utterly ruined the new
design of expounding and representing Popery,
” London,
Several captious Queries concerning
the English Reformation, first in Latin, and afterwards by
T. W. in English, briefly and fully answered,
” Lond.
A Preface concerning the Testimony of
Miracles, prefixed to The School of the Eucharist established upon the miraculous respects and acknowledgements,
which Beasts, Birds, and Insects, upon several occasions,
have rendered to the Sacrament of the Altar.
” Translated
by another hand, from the original French of F. Toussain
Bridoul, a Jesuit," Lond. 1687, 4to. Besides these, after
his decease, his brother, Mr. Nicolas Clagett, published
four volumes of his sermons: the first in 1689, contained seventeen sermons; one of which was greatly admired by
queen Mary, who desired to have it read more than once
during her last illness: Text, Job ii. 10. The second
volume, printed in 1693, contained eleven sermons; a Paraphrase and Notes upon the first, second, third, fourth, fifth,
seventh, and eighth Chapters of the Gospel of St. John.
The Paraphrase, and Notes on the sixth Chapter, which had
been published before: A Discourse of Church- Unity, with
Directions now, in this divided State of Christendom, to keep
within the Unity of the Church A Discourse of Humanity
and Charity And a Letter concerning Protestants Charity
to Papists published by Dr. Clagett. The third and fourth
volumes did not come out till 1720, at so great a distance
of tune from the two former volumes, that the booksellers
would not call them the third and fourth volumes, but the
first and second volumes, as well as the former; only notice was given, that they were never before published.
, the founder of the Clares, an order of nuns so called from her, was born at Assisi, in 1193, and was a model of piety
, the founder of the Clares, an
order of nuns so called from her, was born at Assisi, in
1193, and was a model of piety and devotion from her infancy, according to her biographers, whose account is
certainly a model of credulity and superstition. Her
parents were persons of rank, from whom in 1212 she ran
away, and went to St. Francis, who cloathed her in his
habit, a piece of sackcloth tied about her with a cord, and
sent her to a Benedictine nunnery, and from this epoch
the poor Clares date their foundation. She was next
placed by St. Francis in a new house of nuns, of which she
was appointed the superior, and which was soon crowded
with devotees of rank. This female community practised
austerities, “of which,
” we are told, “people in the world
have hardly any conception.
” They not only went without shoes and stockings, lay on the ground, and kept perpetual abstinence, but were enjoined profound silence,
unless in cases of the greatest necessity. Pope Innocent
IV. in 1251, confirmed to this order the privilege of poverty, without any property in common. St. Clare’s abstinence and mortifications brought her into a miserable state
of disease, from which she was released Aug. 11, 1253,
and was buried the day following, on which her festival is
kept. Alexander IV. canonized her in 1255. The nuns
of St. Clans are divided into Damianists and Urbanists.
The former follow the rule given by St. Francis to St.
Clare; the latter are mitigated, and follow the rules given
by Urban IV. From their name, Minoresses, sometimes
given them, our Minories near Aldgate, is derived, where
they had a nunnery from the year 1293.
music which is not depraved. Tenderness is, indeed, so much his characteristic, that he may well be called the Musical Otway of his time.
The anthems of this pathetic composer, which Dr. Boyce has printed, are not only more natural and pleasing than those of his master Dr. Blow, but wholly free from licentious harmony and breach of rule. He is mild, placid, and seemingly incapable of violence of any kind. In his first anthem (vol. ii.) which required cheerfulness and jubilation, he does not appear in his true character, which is tender and plaintive. The subject of the next is therefore better suited to the natural bias of his genius. There is indeed nothing in this anthem which indicates a master of grand and sublime conceptions; but there are a clearness and accuracy in the score, and melancholy cast of melody and harmony suitable to the words, which are likewise well accented, that cannot fail to soothe and please every appetite for music which is not depraved. Tenderness is, indeed, so much his characteristic, that he may well be called the Musical Otway of his time.
of Alcester, where he officiated for nine years, and, as he informs us, “the town, which before was called * drunken Alcester,' was now exemplary and eminent for religion.”
, a very industrious and useful
writer of the seventeenth century, less known than his
services deserved, and particularly entitled to notice in a
work of this kind, was born Oct. 10, 1599, at Woolston,
in the county of Warwick, of which place his father had
been minister for upwards of forty years. Under his tuition he remained until he was thirteen years old, when he
was sent to school under one Crauford, an eminent teacher
at that time. Here he informs us that he fell into loose
practices from keeping bud company, but occasionally
felt the reluctance which a pious education usually leaves.
At the end of four years he was sent to Cambridge, and
entered of Emanuel, which was then, according to his account, the Puritan college. After taking his bachelor’s
degree, his father recalled him home, and he was for
some time employed as a family-tutor in Warwickshire,
after which, being now in orders, he was invited into
Cheshire, as assistant to Mr. Byrom, who had the living of
Thornton, and with whom he continued almost two years,
preaching twice every Sunday during that time. Some
scruples respecting the ceremonies occasioned him much
trouble, and. he had an intention of removing to London;
but happening to receive a pressing invitation from the inhabitants of Wirrall, a peninsula beyond West Chester,
he consented to settle among them at Shotwick, where no
regular service had been performed, and became here very
useful as a preacher, and very popular through an extensive district. After, however, five years’ quiet residence
here, a prosecution was instituted against him for the
omission of ceremonies (what they were he does not inform us) in the Chancellor’s court; and while about to leave
Shotwick in consequence of this, the mayor, aldermen, and
many of the inhabitants of Coventry, invited him to preach
a lecture in that city, which he accepted, and carried on
for some time; but here likewise he excited the displeasure of Dr. Buggs, who held the two principal livings in
Coventry, and who prosecuted him before the bishop, Dr.
Morton. After this, by the influence of Robert earl of
Warwick, he was enabled to preach at Warwick, and
although complained of, was not molested in any great
degree. Soon after, lord Brook presented him to the
rectory of Alcester, where he officiated for nine years,
and, as he informs us, “the town, which before was called
* drunken Alcester,' was now exemplary and eminent for
religion.
” When the et c<etcra oath was enjoined, the
clergy of the diocese met and drew up a petition against
it, which Mr. Clarke and Mr. Arthur Salway presented to
his majesty at York, who returned for answer, that they
should not be molested for refusing the oath, until the
consideration of their petition in parliament. This business afterwards requiring Mr. Clarke to go to London, he
was chosen preacher of the parish of St. Bennet Fink, a
curacy which is said to have been then, as it is now, in
the gift of the canons of Windsor. Walker, from having
included this among the livings sequestered by the parliamentary reformers, would seem to intimate that Mr. Clarke
must have succeeded to it at the expence of the incumfyent; but the fact is, there was no incumbent at the time.
We learn from Clarke’s dedication of his “Mirror
” to
Philip Holman, esq. of Warkworth in. Northamptonshire,
a native of St. Bennet Fink, and a great benefactor to it,
that for many years before this time (probably before 1646)
the parish had little maintenance for a minister; theif
tithes, being impropriated, went another way. They had
no stock, no land, no house for the minister, no lecture,
nor any one gift sermon in the year. This Mr. Holman,
however, had furnished a house for the curate and settled
it upon feoffees in trust, and had promised to add something towards his further maintenance. Such was the
situation of the parish when Mr. Clarke was elected, and
he remained their preacher until the restoration. During
the whole of this period, he appears to have disapproved
of the practices of the numerous sectaries which arose, and
retained his attachment to the constitution and doctrines of
the church, although he objected to some of those points
respecting ceremonies and discipline, which ranks him
among the ejected non-conformists. Most of his works appear to have been compiled, as indeed they are generally
dated there, at his house in Threadneedle- street, and it
was the sole business of his future life, to enlarge and republish them. In 1660, when Charles II. published a declaration concerning ecclesiastical affairs, the London clergy
drew up a congratulatory address, with a request for the
removal of re-ordination and surplices in colleges, &,c,
Vol. IX. D D
which Mr. Clarke was appointed to present. In the following year he was appointed one of the commissioners
for revising the book of Common Prayer, but what particular share he took we are not informed; nor are we told
more of his history, while in the church, than that he was
seven or eight years a governor, and two years president
of Sion college. When ejected for non-conformity, such
was his idea of schism and separation, that he quietly submitted to a retired and studious life. From the church,
which he constantly attended as a hearer, he says, he
dared not to separate, or gather a private church out of a
true church, which he judged the church of England to
be. In this retirement he continued twenty years, partly
at Hammersmith, and partly at Isleworth, revising what
he had published, and compiling other works, all of which
appear to have been frequently reprinted, notwithstand*ig their size and price. He died Dec. 25, 1682, universally respected for his piety, and especially for his moderation in the contests which prevailed in his time.
ssays on Baptism, Confirmation, and Repentance;” the other, “Some reflections on that part of a book called Amyntor, or a defence of Milton’s life (written by Toland),
Afterwards, in order to fit himself for the sacred function, he studied the Old Testament in the Hebrew, the
New in the Greek, and the primitive Christian writers.
Having taken orders, he became chaplain to Moore bishop
of Norwich, by the introduction of the celebrated Whiston,
then chaplain to the bishop, who in 1698, being collated
to the living of Lowestoff in Suffolk, resigned his chaplainship, and was succeeded by Clarke. In this station Clarke
lived for near twelve years, with all the freedom of an
equal rather than as an inferior to the bishop, who esteemed
him highly while he lived, and at his death gave him a
striking proof of confidence, by leaving solely in his hands
all the concerns of his family: a trust which Clarke executed very faithfully, and to the entire satisfaction of every
person concerned. In 1699 he published two treatises:
one entitled, “Three practical essays on Baptism, Confirmation, and Repentance;
” the other, “Some reflections
on that part of a book called Amyntor, or a defence of
Milton’s life (written by Toland), which relates to the
writings of the primitive fathers, and the canon of the New
Testament. In a letter to a friend.
” This was published
without a name, but was afterwards added to his letter to
Dodwell, &c. In 1701 he published a paraphrase upon
the gospel of St. Matthew; which was followed in 1702 by
the paraphrases upon the gospels of St. Mark and St, Luke,
and soon after by a third volume upon St. John; afterwards often printed together in 2 vols. 8vo. He had begun a paraphrase upon the Acts of the Apostles, and was
to have extended his labours to the remaining books of the
New Testament, but something accidentally interrupted
the execution, which he himself used to say, was made
Jess necessary by the labours of several worthy and learned
persons since the appearance of his work upon the four
gospels.
private lectures to such as were candidates for the ministry. He had undertaken to refute the piece called “The Method,” which was written by cardinal Richelieu against
, an eminent French protestant clergyman, was born at Sauvetat in the province of Angenois, in
1619, and studied grammar and philosophy under his father Francis Claude, also a minister, ~and a man of great
piety, and afterwards went through a course of divinity at
Montauban, where he was ordained in 1645. He was
made minister of the church of la Treyne, where he officiated a year, and then became minister of a church of St.
Afric in Rovergne and eight years after, pastor of that
of Nismes. As the protestants had an university in the
city of Nismes, Claude had an opportunity of displaying
one of his chief talents, that of happily explaining a theological subject; and he used to read private lectures to
such as were candidates for the ministry. He had undertaken to refute the piece called “The Method,
” which
was written by cardinal Richelieu against the protestants;
but hearing that Martel, an eminent professor of divinity,
had a synodical commission for that purpose, he laid aside
that design. Havfng opposed, in the synod of the Lower
Languedoc, a person whom the court had won over to attempt a re-union between the Roman catholics and protestants, he was forbid, by a decree of council, the functions of a minister in Languedoc, after he had exercised
them eight years at Nismes. He went to Paris to get this
resolution taken off; and, after staying there six months
to no purpose, he went to Montauban, preached the day
after his arrival, and accepted an offer from the people of
that church.
cript to his lordship, but had not the courage to print it in his own name. The bishop, with what is called a romantic generosity, conveyed it to the press, and managed
Soon after Dr. Clayton’s marriage, he went with his
lady to England, and while at London, a person in distressed circumstances applied to him for assistance, with
the testimony of Dr. Samuel Clarke for a recommendation, upon which, instead of the usual donation on such
occasions, he gave to the necessitous man the sum of three
hundred pounds, which was the whole that he wanted to
make him easy in the world. This circumstance introduced him to Dr. Clarke, and the result of their acquaintance was, Dr. Clayton’s embracing the Arian principles,
to which he adhered during the remainder of his life. Dr.
Clarke having carried to queen Caroline an account of Dr.
Clayton’s remarkable beneficence, it made a powerful
impression on her majesty’s mind in favour of his character; which impression was strongly enforced by her
bed-chamber woman, Mrs. Clayton, afterwards lady
Sundon. Such a powerful interest procured an immediate
recommendation to lord Carteret, then chief governor of
Ireland, for the very first bishopric tbat should become
vacant, and accordingly, he was advanced to that of
Killala, January 1729-30. In this situation he continued
till November 1735, when he was translated to the see of
Cork, and in 1745 to that of Clogher. Excepting a letter
written to the royal society upon a subject of no great
consequence, his first publication was an “Introduction
to the History of the Jews,
” which was afterwards translated into French, and printed at Leyden. His next work
was “The Chronology of the Hebrew Bible vindicated: the
facts compared with other ancient histories, and the difficulties explained, from the flood to the death of Moses;
together with some conjectures in relation to Egypt during
that period of time; also two maps, in which are attempted
to be settled the journeyings of the children of Israel,
”
Dissertation on Prophecy,
” in which he endeavoured to shew, from a joint comparison of the Prophecies of Daniel, and the Revelation of St. John, that
the final end of the dispersion of the Jews will be coincident with the ruin of the popedom, and take place about
2000. This was followed by an “Impartial Enquiry into
the time of the coming of the Messiah,
” in two letters to
an eminent Jew, printed first separately, and then together,
in 1751. In the same year (1751), appeared the “Essay
on Spirit,
” a performance which excited very general attention, and was productive of a fruitful controversy. Its
object was to recommend the Arian doctrine of the inferiority of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and to prepare
the way for suitable alterations in the Liturgy. His biographer, who is at the same time his warm panegyrist,
allows that in this performance he has indulged too freely
in imagination and conjecture; and that he might have
confined the question with greater advantage to the direct
and simple standard of Scripture. The work, after all, was
not Dr. Clayton’s, but one of his adoption, the real authoi
being a young clergyman in his diocese, who shewed the manuscript to his lordship, but had not the courage to print it in
his own name. The bishop, with what is called a romantic generosity, conveyed it to the press, and managed the affair in
such a manner, that the treatise was universally ascribed to
him in all the attacks to which it was exposed, and the sentiments certainly were his. One effect of this conduct was,
his being prevented from rising higher in the church. In
1752, he was recommended by the duke of Dorset, then
viceroy of Ireland, to the vacant archbishopric of Tuam,
but this was refused, solely on account of his being regarded as the writer of the Essay.
, and to communicate their respective observations. Their moments of relaxation, if that time can be called relaxation which is devoted to social studies, were spent in
, a learned physician, was born
of reputable parents, at Granton, in the parish of Crammond, near Edinburgh, on the 13th of December 1716.
His father died in 1719, and left a widow and five children.
George, who was the youngest son, received the rudiments of his education in the grammar-school of Crammond, and in 1728 was sent to Edinburgh to be further
instructed in the Latin, Greek, and French; where, to a
singular proficiency in these languages, he added a
considerable stock of mathematical knowledge. In the beginning of 1731 he resolved to study physic and surgery,
and had the happiness of being placed under the tuition
of the late Dr. Alexander Monro, and under his roof. In
one of his letters his pupil appeared to dwell with peculiar
pleasure upon this circumstance; observing, that “his
amiable manners and unremitting activity in promoting the
public welfare, endeared him to all his acquaintance, but
more particularly to those who lived under his roof, and
had daily opportunities of admiring the sweetness of his
conversation, and the invariable benignity of his disposition.
” For five years he continued to profit by the instruction and example of his excellent master, visiting patients in company with him, and assisting at the dissections
in the anatomical theatre; at the same time he attended in
their turn the lectures in botany, materia medica, chemistry, and the theory and practice of medicine; and by extraordinary diligence he attracted the notice of all his preceptors. On Dr. Fothergill’s arrival from England at this
university in 1733, Dr. Cleghorn was introduced to his
acquaintance, and soon became his inseparable companion.
These twin pupils then studied together the same branches
of science under the same masters, with equal ardour and
success; they frequently met to compare the notes they
had collected from the professors, and to communicate
their respective observations. Their moments of relaxation, if that time can be called relaxation which is devoted to
social studies, were spent in a select society of fellowstudents, of which Fothergill, Russel, and Cuming, were
associates; a society since incorporated under the name of
The Royal Medical Society of Edinburgh.
0 guineas; the sum received for the sale could not be less than 10,000l. For this publication he was called before the privy council; and the circumstance of his distress
, was the son of colonel Cleland, that
celebrated fictitious member of the Spectator’s Club whom
Steele describes under the name of Will Honeycombe.
He was educated at Westminster- school, to which he was
admitted in 1722, and was there the contemporary of lord
Mansfield, He was early in life sent as consul to Smyrna,
where perhaps he first imbibed those loose principles which
in the infamous work he afterwards wrote, are so dangerously
exemplified. On his return from Smyrna, he went to the
East Indies; but, quarrelling with some of the members of
the presidency of Bombay, he made a precipitate retreat
from the east, with little or no benefit to his fortune. Being without profession, or any settled means of subsistence,
he soon fell into difficulties; a prison and its miseries were
the consequences. In this situation, about the year 1750,
one of those booksellers who disgrace the profession, offered him a temporary relief for writing a work most grossly
immoral, and fit only for the brothels, which brought a
stigma on his name that time has not obliterated. The
sum given for the copy was 20 guineas; the sum received
for the sale could not be less than 10,000l. For this publication he was called before the privy council; and the
circumstance of his distress being known, as well as his being
a man of some parts, John earl Granville, the then president, nobly rescued him from the like temptation, by getting him a pension of 100l. a. year, which he enjoyed to his
death, and which had so much the desired effect, that except the “Memoirs of a Coxcomb,
” which has some smack
of dissipated manners, and the “Man of Honour,
” written
as an amende honorable for his former exceptionable book,
he dedicated the rest of his life to political, dramatic, and
philological studies. In 1765 he published “The Way to
Things by Words, and to Words by Things,
” 8vo, which
wast followed in Specimens of an Etymological
Vocabulary, or Essay by means of the Analytic method to
retrieve the ancient Celtic,
” and Proposals for publishing
by subscription, in 2 vols. 4to, “The Celtic retrieved by
the Analytic method, or reduction to Radicals; illustrated
by various and especially British antiquities;
” but he does
not appear to have received encouragement sufficient to
enable him to print this work. In these publications, however, he has displayed a fund of ingenuity and erudition,
not unworthy the education he received at Westminster.
His political effusions appeared chiefly in the Public Advertiser, under the signatures A Briton, Modestus, &c. but
were tedious and dull. His dramatic trifles and occasional
poems were more lively, although they had not strength to
survive their day. He Jived within the income of his pension, with some addition from his newspaper labours, in a
retired situation in Petty France, where he died Jan. 23,
1789, in his eightieth year, having survived his infamous
publication long enough to see, we trust with shame and
sorrow, the extensive misery it created, and which it never
was in his power to check.
third century, was an Athenian, or according to others an Alexandrian on which account he is usually called Clemens Alexandrines, by way of distinguishing him from Clemens
, an eminent father of the church in the end of the second and beginning of the third century, was an Athenian, or according to others an Alexandrian on which account he is usually called Clemens Alexandrines, by way of distinguishing him from Clemens Romanus. When Pantsenus was sent by Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria, to preach the gospel to the Indians, at th6 request of their ambassadors, about the year 191 Clemens succeeded him in the catechetical school. He acquitted himself admirably well in this employment, and had many eminent pupils, as Origen and Alexander bishop of Jerusalem. Clemens’s method of instructing the catechumens is said to have been this. He pointed out to them, and explained all that was good in the pagan philosophy; and then led them on insensibly to Christianity. In his philosophic character, which he too much preserved, he was an eclectic; that is, not attached to any particular sect of philosophers, but a selector of what he thought good and sound in them all.
, one of the popes so called, whose proper name was Bertrand de Gouth, or de Goth, was appointed
, one of the popes so called, whose proper
name was Bertrand de Gouth, or de Goth, was appointed
bishop of Comminges, then archbishop of Bourdeaux by
Boniface VIII. and afterwards elected pope at Perugia,
June 5, 1305. The ceremony of his coronation was performed at Lyons, Sunday, November 10, but interrupted
by a wall giving way, from being overloaded with spectators: by which accident John II. duke of Bretany was
^killed, the king wounded, and the tiara thrown from the
pope’s head. This accident was considered as a presage of
the misfortunes which afflicted Italy and all Christendom
during the pontificate of Clement V. He was the first pope
who resided at Avignon. In 1311, he held the general
council of Vienne, appropriated to himself the first year’s
revenue of all the English benefices, which was the origin
of first fruits, abolished the order of templars, and made
the collection of what are called the “Clementine Constitutions
” of which there are some scarce editions; Mentz,
t threw him into a fit of sickness, which lasted several days. Bentley’s” Emendatioues," as they are called, of Le Clerc’s edition, were published at Utrecht in 1710, with
In 1709 he published an elegant edition, with notes of
his own, of “Sulpicius Severus,
” and also of * 4 Grotius
de veritate,“&c. to which, besides notes, he added a
treatise
” De eligenda inter Christianos dissentientes sententia.“The same year he published and dedicated to
lord Shaftesbury, the celebrated author of the Characteristics, &c.
” A Collection of the remains of Menander
and Philemon,“a completer collection than had been made
by Grotius and others, to which he added a new Latin
version, and notes. As it is allowed by Le Clerc’s friends,
that he committed several errors in this work, which proceeded from his not having carefully enough attended to
the metre, it is not surprising that it should have exposed
him to the censure of the critics and philologers. The
attack was begun by our learned Bentley, under the name
of Phileleutherus Lipsiensis; whose censure, it is said,
we know not how truly, vexed Le Clerc to such a degree,
that it threw him into a fit of sickness, which lasted several
days. Bentley’s
” Emendatioues," as they are called, of
Le Clerc’s edition, were published at Utrecht in 1710, with
a preface written by Burman; in which there is a very
large proportion of critical rancour, to which Le Clerc did
net think proper to make any reply, as he was conscious
that he had given some reason for the exceptions that were
made, although they might not justify the language employed. He was defended, however, by an unknown person, who assumed the name of Philargyrius Cantabrigiensis; and published it in 1711, with a preface written by
himself. This Philargyrius Cantabrigiensis is said to have
been Cornelius de Pauw, a gentleman who distinguished
himself by philosophical and critical publications.
of January following, when her blessed mother brought her forth in one of her father’s chief nouses, called Skypton castle, in Craven.
Mr. Walpole, who, besides introducing her in the
“World,
” has given a place to this celebrated lady in
his “Catalogue of noble Authors,
” represents her as having written “Memoirs of her husband Richard earl of
Dorset;
” and “Sundry memorials of herself and her progenitors.
” With regard to the first of these articles, we
apprehend there never has appeared in the countess’s manuscripts any account of him, except what is occasionally
to be met with in the History of her own life, a curious
manuscript in the Harleian collection (6177), the title of
which is, “A Summary of the Records, and a true Memorial of the Life of me the lady Anne Clifford, who by
birth being sole daughter and heir to my illustrious father
George Clifford the third earl of Cumberland, by his virtuous wife Margaret Russel my mother, in right descent
from him, and his long continued noble ancestors the Veteriponts, Cliffords, and Veseys, baroness Clifford, Westmoreland, and Vesey, high sheriffess of Westmoreland,
and ladye of the honor of Skypton in Craven, was by my
lirst marriage countess dowager of Dorset, and by my
second marriage countess dowager of Pembroke and Montgomery.
” It is written in a manner extremely tedious,
abounding with repetitions of matters, for the most part,
equally minute and uninteresting, and may perhaps incline some to doubt Mr. Pennant’s character of her, as the
most eminent person of her age for intellectual accomplishments. Some circumstances, however, respecting her
being brought into the world, are related with an accuracy
which biographers will never, perhaps, in any other instance be able to attain. She informs us, that, through
the merciful providence of God, she was begotten by her
valiant father, and conceived with child by her worthy
mother, the first day of May in 1589, in the lord Wharton’s
house in Channel-row, in Westminster, hard by the river
of Thames, as Psalm 139; yet that she was not born till
the 30th day of January following, when her blessed mother brought her forth in one of her father’s chief nouses,
called Skypton castle, in Craven.
ouse the cause of the deposed rajah. They resolved to begin their attack upon a fort of the rajah’s, called Devi Cdtah. On their advance, rinding the approaches difficult,
When the season for military operations was over, the troops remained at St. David’s, and before the return of spring they received news of a cessation of hostilities between Great Britain and France. Still, however, the sense of ancient rivalship. the reciprocal aggravation of recent injuries, an opposition of interests, a mutual confidence in strength, seemed to animate both nations to a renewal of the war. The dominions of the rajah of Tanjore had at that time been claimed by his brother, with a declaration that he, though deposed by his subjects, was their rightful sovereign; and that the reigning rajah was an usurper. The English of St. David’s, convinced by these allegations, determined to espouse the cause of the deposed rajah. They resolved to begin their attack upon a fort of the rajah’s, called Devi Cdtah. On their advance, rinding the approaches difficult, and the ramparts covered with innumerable forces, they were at first deterred from their enterprize. Clive, however, insisted that the attempt, though dangerous, was not hazardous. He thought the town might easily b$ taken by storm; recommending only to advance the cannons in the night, as by them the gates might be effectually destroyed. Captain Cope, the commander, refused to listen to the advice, as too desperate; till, after having exhausted his ammunition by a fruitless cannonade, he was compelled to retreat to Fort St. David’s. The disgrace of this discomfiture; its pernicious influence upon their trade 5 and the exultation of their common enemy the French, induced the English once more to attempt the reduction of Devi Cotah. The command of this expedition was entrusted to major Lawrence, an officer at that time but little known, but who was afterwards distinguished for his abilities in the service. As a breach was made in the walls, Clive, who then possessed only the rank of a lieutenant, solicited the command of the forlorn hope. Lawrence, willing to preserve him from so dangerous a station, told him the service did not then fall in his turn. Clive replied, that knowing it did not, he came rather to ask it as a favour, than to demand it as a right; but that on such an occasion he hoped the request of a volunteer would not be rejected. Major Lawrence consented; and Clive, in consequence of his appointment to the command of thirty-four British soldiers and seven hundred Sepoys, was ordered to storm the breach. Accord, ingly they led the way; but in passing a rivulet between the camp and the fort, four of the English fell by the fire of the enemy. The Sepoys were alarmed, and halted as soon as they had passed the stream but the English persevered, and, advancing closely upon the breach, presented their musquets, when a party of horse, which had been concealed in the tower, rushed upon their rear, and killed twenty-six. Clive, by stepping aside, escaped a stroke which had been aimed at him by oqe of the horse as they passed him. He ran towards the rivulet, and, having passed, had the good fortune to join the Sepoys. Of the whole fouj>and- thirty, himself and three others were all that were left alive. Major Lawrence, seeing the disaster, commanded all the Europeans to advance. Clive still marched in the first division. The horse renewed their attack, but were repulsed with such slaughter that the garrison, dismayed at the sight, gave way as the English approached the breach, and, flying through the opposite gate, abandoned the town to the victors. Alarmed at the success of the English, the rajah sent them overtures of peace; to which, on condition that a settlement should be made on his rival, and the fort of Devi Cutah, with the adjoining district, be ceded to the company, the English readily agreed.
al content of mind and happiness, than in the trembling affluence of an unsettled fortune. But to be called, after sixteen years have elapsed, to account for my conduct
Though his exploits will excite the admiration, and receive the plaudits of posterity, yet in his lifetime the same
ingratitude was shewn him, which the greatest men, in all
ages and countries, have experienced; for, on the pretence “that all acquisitions made under the influence of a
military force, or by treaty with foreign powers, do of
right belong to the state,
” a party in the house of commons, countenanced by the minister, attempted to ruin
both his fortune and his fame. A motion was made in this
assembly, on the 21st of February, 1773, to resolve, that,
“in the acquisition of his wealth, lord Clive had abused
the powers with which he was entrusted.
” The speech he
made on the occasion concluded with the following words
“If the resolution proposed should receive the assent of
the house, I shall have nothing left that I can call my own,
except my paternal fortune of 500l. a year; and which has
been in the family for ages past. But upon this I am
content to live; and perhaps I shall find more real content
of mind and happiness, than in the trembling affluence of
an unsettled fortune. But to be called, after sixteen years
have elapsed, to account for my conduct in this manner;
and after an uninterrupted enjoyment of my property, to
be questioned, and considered as obtaining it unwarrantably, is hard indeed! and a treatment of which I
should not think the British senate capable. Yet if this
should be the case, I have a conscious innocence within
me, which tells me that my conduct is irreproachable.
Frangas non fades. They may take from me what I have*,
they may, as they think, make me poor, but I will be happy.
Before I sit down, I have one request to make to the house,
that when they come to decide upon my honour, they will
not forget their own.
” The house of commons rejected
the motion, and resolved, “that lord Clive had rendered
great and meritorious services to his country.
”
dd nothing to the reach of his genius, or the correctness of his judgment. Lord Chatham emphatically called him a heaven-born general; as, without experience, or being
Lord Clive was one of the few men whose conduct was always directed by the dictates of his own mind, and whose decisions were therefore secret. Like the first of the Caesars, the talents of other men could add nothing to the reach of his genius, or the correctness of his judgment. Lord Chatham emphatically called him a heaven-born general; as, without experience, or being versed in military affairs, he surpassed all the officers of his time. In parliament, he represented, from the year 1760, to his decease, the ancient borough of Shrewsbury, the chief town of the county wherein he was born. The interest which he took in the disputations of this assembly, was seldom sufficient to induce him to speak; but when the attack upon his conduct had called into action the powers of his mind, his eloquence was such as has not been often surpassed.
was that he became subject at times to a depression of spirits. His ardent and active mind, when not called into exertion by some great occasion, frequently preyed upon
The severe illness with which lord Clive was attacked, during his first residence in the East Indies, gave an injury to his constitution which was never fully repaired; and his health was farther weakened by his successive visits to the unwholesome climates of that country. Hence it was that he became subject at times to a depression of spirits. His ardent and active mind, when not called into exertion by some great occasion, frequently preyed upon itself. In the latter part of his life, having nothing peculiarly important and interesting to engage his attention, and his body growing more and more infirm, the depression increased; and to this was owing his decease, by his own hand, on the 22d of November, 1774, not long after he had entered into the 50th year of his age. He was interred at Moreton-Say, the parish in which he was born. In the various relations of private life, lord Clive was highly beloved and esteemed; for he was a man of the kindest affections, and of every social virtue. His secret charities- were numerous and extensive but the present he made of seventy thousand pounds, as a provision for the invalids of the company’s service, was the noblest donation of its kind that ever came fron a private individual. His person was of the largest of the middle size; his countenance inclined to sadness; and the heaviness of his brow imparted an unpleasing expression to his features. It was a heaviness that arose not from the prevalence of the unsocial passions (for of these lew men had a smaller share), but from a natural fullness in the flesh above the eye-lid. His words were few; and his manner, among strangers, was reserved; yet it won the confidence of men, and gained admission to the heart. Among his intimate friends he had great pleasantness and jocularity, and on some occasions was too open. In February 1753, immediately before he embarked for England, Jie married Margaret, daughter of Edmund Maskelyne, esq. of Purton in Wiltshire, and sister to the rev. Dr. Nevil Maskelyne, the late astronomer royal. By this lady he had Edward, the present lord Clive, born March 7, 1754; Rebecca, born September 15, 1760; Charlotte, born January 15, 1762; Margaret, born August 15, 1763; and Robert, 'horn August 31, 1769.
of queen Elizabeth, and was for some time a navy surgeon, serving on board one of the queen’s ships, called the Aid, when the emperor’s daughter married Philip II. king
, an eminent surgeon, of whom little is known, except what can be collected from his works, flourished in the time of queen Elizabeth, and was for some time a navy surgeon, serving on board one of the queen’s ships, called the Aid, when the emperor’s daughter married Philip II. king of Spain, in 1570. He returned home, and resided several years at London, where he acquired great reputation, as may be inferred from his having been several years surgeon of St. Bartholomew’s and Christ’s hospitals, before he was sent for by letters from the earl of Leicester, general of the English forces in the Low Countries, to take upon him the care of the sick and wounded in 1586. He was surgeon to her majesty, and mentions his having served with Banister under the earl of Warwick; and also speaks in another place of having been a retainer to lord Abergavenny. He seems to have been in full practice about 1596, the date of his last publication, a treatise on the venereal disease, reprinted in 1637; and he laments the frequency of this disorder in England; of which he gives this proof, that in the space of five years he had cured upwards of a thousand venereal patients in vSt. Bartholomew’s hospital. His most capital performance is his approved Practice for all young chirurgeons, 1591, re-printed in 1596 and 1637. He is a strong advocate for writing medical chirurgical books in the vernacular language, and his practice was always ingenious, and often successful.
al other protestants; but he had nevertheless, and has still, numerous disciples in Holland, who are called Cocceians, and believe, like him, and like many other divines
, was a famous Hebrew
professor at Bremen, where he was born in 1603. In
1650 he was chosen to teach theology at Leyden, which
he did with great reputation, and died there 1669, aged
sixty-six, leaving a son. Cocceius wrote long commentaries on the Bible, and other works, which made much
noise in Holland, and were printed at Amsterdam, 1701,
10 vols. fol. In 1708 was published his “Opera Anecdota Theologica et Philologica,
” 2 vols. fol. His singular
method of interpreting the Holy Scriptures raised him opponents in Voetius, Desmarets, and several other protestants; but he had nevertheless, and has still, numerous
disciples in Holland, who are called Cocceians, and believe, like him, and like many other divines in other countries, that there will be a visible reign of Christ upon earth,
by which that of antichrist shall be abolished; and that
during this reign, the Jews and all nations being converted,
the church should attain its highest glory. In explaining
the Scriptures, he always looked beyond the literal meaning
to something that should wear the appearance of mystery.
He regarded the Old Testament as a perpetual representation or mirror of the history of Christ, and his church;
he maintained that all the Jewish prophecies have a relation to Christ, and that his miracles, actions, and sufferings,
and those of his apostles, were types of future events.
e death of the late famous John Dryden, esq.“The same year she also brought upon the stage a comedy, called” Love at a Loss; or, most votes carry it,“acted at the Theatre-Royal,
In 1693, when she was only fourteen years of age, she
wrote some verses, and sent them to Mr. Bevil Higgons,
tf on his sickness and recovery from the small-pox,“and
was only in her seventeenth year when she produced a tragedy, entitled
” Agnes de Castro,“which was acted with
applause at the Theatre-Royal in 1695, and printed the following year in 4to, without her name. The play is founded
upon a French novel of the same title, printed at Paris in
1688. In 1697, she addressed some verses to Mr. Congreve on his
” Mourning Bride“which gave rise to an
acquaintance between her and that celebrated writer. In
1698, her tragedy, entitled
” Fatal Friendship,“was performed at the new theatre in Lincoln’s-inn-fields, and
printed the same year in 4to, with a dedication to the
princess Anne of Denmark. This play was considered as
the most perfect of her dramatic performances and it was
praised by Hughes and Farquhar. On the death of Mr.
Dry den, in 1701, our poetess joined with several other
ladies, in paying a just tribute to his memory in verse.
Their performances were published together in that year,
under the title of
” The Nine Muses; or, Poems written
l>y so many Ladies, upon the death of the late famous John
Dryden, esq.“The same year she also brought upon the
stage a comedy, called
” Love at a Loss; or, most votes
carry it,“acted at the Theatre-Royal, and published in
quarto; but on account of her absence from London while
it was in the press, it was so incorrectly printed, that she
would gladly have suppressed the edition; and many years
after she revised it, with a view to a second performance,
which never took place. Soon after, before the close of
the year 1701, she produced another tragedy, called
” The Unhappy Penitent,“which was performed at the
Theatre-Royal in Drury-lane, also printed in 4to. In the
midst of this attention to poetry and dramatic writing, she
spent much of her time in metaphysical studies. She was
a great admirer of Mr. Locke’s
” Essay on Human Understanding;" and drew up a defence of that work, against
some remarks written by Dr. Thomas Burnet, master of the
Charter-house. This was published in May 1702, without
a name, lest the public should be prejudiced against a
metaphysical treatise written by a woman. She also professed herself to be desirous of concealing her name, from an
unwillingness tobe known to Mr. Locke, under the character
of his defender. But her name was not long concealed;
and Mr. Locke desired his cousin, Mr. King, afterwards
lord chancellor, to pay her a visit, and make her a present
of books; and upon her owning her performance, he wrote
her a letter of acknowledgment. She also received a
letter of thanks for this piece from Mrs. Burnet, the last
wife of the celebrated prelate of that name. It appears,
that at the latter end of 1701, she was some time at Salisbury, on a visit to her relations in that city.
f Ramillies, she also addressed a second poem to the duke of Marlborough. The same year, her tragedy called “The Revolution of Sweden,” was acted at the queen’s theatre
Her friend Mr. Burnet continued to keep up a correspondence with her during his travels; and upon his arrival at the court of Berlin, where he was received with great
marks of respect by Sophia Charlotte, queen of Prussia,
daughter to the princess Sophia, he took an opportunity of
writing to that princess in such advantageous terms of Mrs.
Trotter, that her royal highness, in her answer to him from
Hanover, on the 29th of July, 1704, declared herself
“charmed with the agreeable picture which he had drawn
of the new Scots Sappho, who seemed to deserve all the
great things which he had said of her.
” Jn 1704, Mrs.
Trotter addressed some verses to the duke of Marlborough,
upon his return from Germany, after the battle of Blenheim; and in 1706, after the battle of Ramillies, she also
addressed a second poem to the duke of Marlborough.
The same year, her tragedy called “The Revolution of
Sweden,
” was acted at the queen’s theatre in the Haymarket, and printed at London in 4to. It is founded upon
the revolution in Sweden under Gustavus Erickson.
but has been less popular. He also compiled a small dictionary, and a book of sentences for writing, called Cocker’s Morals. He died in 1677, and his two books on arithmetic
, a name almost proverbial in the schools of arithmetic, was a very ingenious penman and engraver, and born, probably in London, in 163f. He became deservedly reckoned among the improvers of the arts of writing and arithmetic, having published no less than fourteen copy-books, engraved by his own hand. Some of his calligraphical pieces, which were done on silver plates, have a neatness and delicacy superior to the rest. Mr Evelyn mentions Cocker, Gery, Gething, and Billingsley, as comparable to the Italian masters both for letters and flourishes. His Vulgar Arithmetic has been often printed, first in 1677, a fortieth edition in 1723, and often since. His Decimal Arithmetic appeared in 1695, but has been less popular. He also compiled a small dictionary, and a book of sentences for writing, called Cocker’s Morals. He died in 1677, and his two books on arithmetic were published from his Mss. after his death.
, called likewise P. Van Aelst, from the place of his nativity, a town
, called likewise P. Van Aelst, from
the place of his nativity, a town in Flanders, was, if we
may judge from the writers who have spoken of him, or
from the admirable prints remaining from his designs, one
of the greatest painters which either Germany or Flanders
produced in his age. After he had been some time instructed in the school of Bernard of Brussels, he went to
Rome to complete his studies, and soon proved himself an
excellent designer, and a bold and spirited painter, as
well in fresco as in oil. At his return to his own country
he married, but his wife soon dying, he once more travelled, and at the solicitations of a merchant, a friend of
his, accompanied him to Constantinople in 1531. Having
stayed some time with the Turks, and drawn some most
animated representations of their customs and ceremonies,
which he afterwards cut in wood, he once more arrived in
the place of his nativity, and took a second wife. Towards
the latter part of his life he wrote some excellent treatises
upon geometry, architecture, and perspective. His pictures of history, as well as his portraits, were much esteemed. He was made painter to the emperor Charles V.
and died at Antwerp in 1550. After his death, the prints
which he had made of Turkish costume were published by
his widow. This admirable work consists of seven large
pieces, which, when joined together, form a frieze, divided into compartments by Cariatides on a tablet in the
first block is written in old French “Les moeurs et fachom
de faire de Turcz, avecq les regions y appertenantes, ont
est au vif contrefaicetze par Pierre Cceck d‘Alost, luy
estant en Turque, Tan de Jesu Christ MDXXXIII. lequel
aussy de sa main propre a pourtraict ces figures duysantes
a Pimpression dy’celles;
” and on the last is this inscription: “Marie ver hulst, vefue du diet Pierre d'Alost,
tres passe en Tan MDL. a faict imprimer les diet figures,
soubz grace et privilege dTimperialle majeste en Tan
MCCCCCLIII.
” These prints are very rare.
leaving the Hollanders several places fortified by his industry and skill, Bergen-op-zoom, which he called his master-piece, but which, it ought to be mentioned, he left
, the Vauban of the Dutch, was born in 1632, or, according to Saxius, in 1641. His genius for the art of war, and for constructing fortifications, displayed itself early in life. Being engineer and lieutenant-general in the service of the States-general, he fortified and defended the greater part of their places. It was a curious spectacle, says the president Heinault, to see in 1692, at the siege of Namur, the fort Cohorn besieged by Vauban, and defended by Cohorn himself. He did not surrender till after he had received a wound judged to be mortal, but which, however, did not prove to be so. In 1703 the elector of Cologne, Joseph Clement, having espoused the part of France, and received a French garrison into Bonn, Cohorn kept up such a strong and terrible fire upon the place, that the commandant surrendered it three days afterwards. This great man died at the Hague in 1704, leaving the Hollanders several places fortified by his industry and skill, Bergen-op-zoom, which he called his master-piece, but which, it ought to be mentioned, he left unfinished, was taken in 1747 by the marshal de Loewendahl, notwithstanding its fine fortifications, which caused it to be regarded as impregnable. We have a treatise by Cohorn, in Dutch, on the new method of fortifying places.
en notice of and admired by the bench. It is not at all improbable that this might promote his being called early to the bar, at the end of six years, which in those strict
, lord chief-justice of England, and one of the most eminent lawyers this kingdom has produced, was descended from an ancient family in Norfolk, and born at Mileham, in that county, 1549. His father was Robert Coke, esq. of Mileham; his mother, Winifred, daughter and coheiress of William Knightley, of Margrave Knightley, in Norfolk. At ten years of age he was sent to a free -school at Norwich; and from thence removed to Trinity-college, in Cambridge. He remained in the university about four years, and went from thence to Clifford Vinn, in London and the year after was entered a student of the Inner Temple. We are told that the first proof he gave of the quickness of his penetration, and the solidity of his judgment, was his stating the cook’s case of the Temple, which it seems had puzzled the whole house, so clearly and exactly, that it was taken notice of and admired by the bench. It is not at all improbable that this might promote his being called early to the bar, at the end of six years, which in those strict times was held very extraordinary. He himself has informed us that the first cause he moved in the King? s-bench, was in Trinity-term, 1578, when he was counsel for Mr. Edward Denny, vicar of Northingham, in Norfolk, in an action of scandalum magnatum, brought against him by Henry lord Cromwell. About this time he was appointed reader of Lyon’s-inn, when his learned lectures were much attended, for three years. His reputation increased so fast, and with it his practice, that when he had been at the bar but a few years, he thought himself in a condition to pretend to a lady of one of the best families, and at the same time of the best fortune in Norfolk, Bridget, daughter and coheiress of John Preston, esq. whom he soon married, and with whom he had in all about 30,000l.
lord chief justice of the common-pleas the same year. The motto he gave upon his rings, when he was called to the degree of serjeant, in order to qualify him for this
In May 1603, he was knighted by king James; and the
same year managed the trial of sir W. Raleigh, at Winchester, whither the term was adjourned, on account of
the plague being at London; but he lessened himself
greatly in the opinion of the world, by his treatment of
that unfortunate gentleman; as he employed a coarse and
scurrilous language against him hardly to be paralleled.
The resentment of the public was so great upon this occasion, that as has been generally believed, Shakspeare, in
his comedy of the “Twelfth Night,' 7 hints at this strange
behaviour of sir Edward Coke at Raleigh’s trial. He was
likewise reproached with this indecent behaviour in a letter
which sir Francis Bacon wrote to him after his own fall;
wherein we have the following passage:
” As your pleadings
were wont to insult our misery, and inveigh literally
against the person, so are you still careless in this point
to praise and disgrace upon slight grounds, and that suddenly; so that your reproofs or commendations are for the
most part neglected and contemned, when the censure of
a judge, coming slow, but sure, should be a brand to the
guilty, and a crown to the virtuous. You will jest at any
man in public, without any respect to the person’s dignity,
or your own. This disgraces your gravity more than it
can advance the opinion of your wit; and so do all your
actions, which we see you do directly with a touch of vainglory. You make the laws too much lean to your opinion;
whereby you shew yourself to be a legal tyrant, &c.“January 27, 1606, at the trial of the gun-powder conspirators, and March 28 following, at the trial of the Jesuit
Garnet, he made two very elaborate speeches, which were
soon after published in a book entitled
” A true and perfect relation of the whole Proceedings against the late most
barbarous traitors, Garnet, a Jesuit, and his confederates,
&c.“1606, 4to. Cecil earl of Salisbury, observed in his
speech upon the latter trial,
” that the evidence had been
so well distributed and opened by the attorney-general,
that he had never heard such a mass of matter better contracted, nor made more intelligible to the jury.“This
appears to have been really true; so true, that many to
this day esteem this last speech, especially, his masterpiece.
It was probably in reward for this service, that he was
appointee! lord chief justice of the common-pleas the same
year. The motto he gave upon his rings, when he was
called to the degree of serjeant, in order to qualify him for
this promotion, was,
” Lex est tutissima cassis;“that is,
” The law is the safest helmet.“Oct. 25, 1613, he was
made lord chief justice of the kingVbench; and in Nov.
was sworn of his majesty’s privy-council. In 1615 the
king deliberating upon the choice of a lord- chancellor,
when that r-ost should become vacant, by the death or resignation of Egerton lord Ellesmere, sir Francis Bacon
wrote to his majesty a letter upon that subject, wherein
he lias the following passage, relating to the lord chiefjustice:
”If you take my lord Coke, this will follow: First,
your majesty shall put an over-ruling nature into an overruling place, which may breed an extreme. Next, you
shall blunt his industries in matter of finances, which
seemeth to aim at another place. And lastly, popular men
are no sure mounters for your majesty’s saddle." The
disputes and animosities between these two great men are
well known. They seem to have been personal; and they
lasted to the end of their lives. Coke was jealous of Bacon’s reputation in many parts of knowledge; by whom,
again, he was envied for the high reputation he had acquired in one; each aiming to be admired particularly in
that in which the other excelled. Coke was the greatest
lawyer of his time, but could be nothing more. If Bacon
was not so, we can ascribe, it only to his aiming at a more
exalted character; not being able, or at least not willing,
to confine the universality of his genius within one inferior
province of learning.
e excused. One of the defendant’s agents undertakes to excuse him; and carrying the maa to a tavern, called for a gallon of sack in a vessel, and bid him drink. As soon
Sir Thomas Overbury’s murder in the Tower now broke
out, at the distance of two years after; for Overbury died
Sept. 16, 1613, and the judicial proceedings against his
murderers did not commence till Sept. 1615. In this affair sir Edward acted with great vigour, and, as some
think, in a manner highly to be commended; yet his enemies, who were numerous, and had formed a design to
humble his pride and insolence, took occasion, from certain circumstances, to misrepresent him both to the king
and people. Many circumstances concurred at this time
to hasten his fall. He was led to oppose the king in a dispute relating to his power of granting commendams, and
James did not choose to have his prerogative disputed,
even in cases where it might well be questioned. He had
a contest with the lord chancellor Egerton, in which it is
universally allowed that he was much to be blamed. Sir
Edward, as a certain historian informs us, had heard and
determined a case at common law; after which it was reported that there had been juggling. The defendant, it
seems, had prevailed with the plaintiff’s principal witness
not to attend, or to give any evidence in the cause, provided he could he excused. One of the defendant’s agents
undertakes to excuse him; and carrying the maa to a tavern, called for a gallon of sack in a vessel, and bid him
drink. As soon as he had laid his lips to the flaggon, the
defendant’s agent quitted the room. When this witness
was called, the court was informed that he was unable to
come; to prove which, this agent was produced, who deposed, “that he left him in such a condition, that if he
continued in it but a quarter of an hour, he was a dead
man.
” For want of this person’s testimony the cause was
lost, and a verdict given for the defendant. The plaintiffs,
finding themselves injured, carried the business into chancery for relief; but the defendants, having had judgment
at common law, refused to obey the orders of that court.
Upon this, the lord chancellor commits them to prison for
contempt of the court: they petition against him in the
star-chamber; the lord chief justice Coke joins with them,
foments the difference, and threatens the lord chancellor
with a pnemunire. The chancellor makes the king acquainted with the business, who, after consulting sir Francis Bacon, then his attorney, and some other lawyers upon
the affair, justified the lord chancellor, and gave a proper
rebuke to Coke.
In October he was called before the chancellor, and forbid Westminster-hall; and also
In October he was called before the chancellor, and
forbid Westminster-hall; and also ordered to answer several exceptions against his Reports. In November the king
removed him from the office of lord chief justice. Upon
his disgrace, sir Francis Bacon wrote him an admonitory
letter, in which he remonstrates to him several errors yi
his former behaviour and conduct. We have made a citation from this letter already; we will here give the remainder of it: for though perhaps it was not very generous in
Bacon to write such a letter at such a season, even to a,
professed adversary, yet it will serve to illustrate the character and manners of Coke. In this letter Bacon advised
sir Edward to be humbled for this visitation and observes,
“that affliction only levels the molehills of pride in us,
ploughs up the heart, and makes it fit for wisdom to sow
her seed, and grace to bring forth her increase.
” He
afterwards points out to him some errors in his conduct.
“In discourse,
” says he, “you delight to speak too much,
not to hear other men. This, some say, becomes a
pleader, not a judge. For by this sometimes your affections are entangled with a love of your own arguments,
though they be the weaker; and with rejecting of those
which, when your affections were settled, your own judgment would allow for strongest. Thus, while you speak
in your element, the law, no man ordinarily equals you;
but when you wander, as you often delight to do, you then
wander indeed, and never give such satisfaction as the
curious time requires. This is not caused by any natural
defect, but first for want of election; when you, having a
large and fruitful mind, should not so much labour what to
speak, as to find what to leave unspoken. Rich soils are
often to be weeded, Secondly, you cloy your auditory.
When you would be observed, speech must be either sweet
or short. Thirdly, you converse with books, not men,
and books specially humane; and have no excellent choice
with men, who are the best books. For a man of action
and employment you seldom converse with, and then but
with underlings; not freely, but as a schoolmaster, ever
to teach, never to learn. But if sometimes you would in
your familiar discourse hear others, and make election of
such as knew what they speak, you should know many of
those tales, which you tell, to be but ordinary; and many
other things, which you delight to repeat and serve in for
novelties, to be but stale. As in your pleadings you were
wont to insult even misery, and inveigh bitterly against
the person so are you still careless in this point,
” &c.
“Your too much love of the world is too much seen, when
having the living of 10,000l. you relieve few or none. The
hand that hath taken so much, can it give so little? Herein
you shew no bowels of compassion, as if you thought all
too little for yourself, or that God had given you all that
you have, only to that end you should still gather more,
and never be satisfied, but try how much you could gather,
to account for all at the great and general audit day. We
desire you to amend this, and let your poor tenants in
Norfolk find some comfort, where nothing of your estate
is spent towards their relief, but all brought up hither to
the impoverishing your country.
” He then tells him,
“that in the case of Overbury he used too many delays, till
the delinquent’s hands were loose, and his own bound;
and that he was too open in his proceedings, and so taught
them how to defend themselves. But that,
” continues he,
“which we commend you for, are those excellent parts of
nature and knowledge in the law, which you are endued
withal. But these are only good in their good use.
Wherefore we thank you heartily for standing stoutly in
the commonwealth’s behalf; hoping, it proceedeth not
from a disposition to oppose greatness, as your enemies
say, but to do justice, and deliver truth indifferently without respect of persons.
”
the fittest instrument for a tyrant that ever was in England.” And yet, says Wilson, in the house he called the king’s prerogative an overgrown monster. Towards the close
A parliament was summoned, and met January 1621;
and in February there was a great debate in the house of
commons upon several points of importance, such as liberty of speech, the increase of popery, and other grievances. Sir Edward Coke was a member, and his age,
experience, and dignity gave him great weight there: but
it very soon appeared that he resolved to act a different
part from what the court, and more especially the great
favourite Buckingham, expected. He spoke very warmly;
and also took occasion to shew, that proclamations against
the tenor of acts of parliament were V9id: for which he is
highly commended by Camden. The houses, being adjourned by the king’s command in June, met again in November; and fell into great heats about the commitment
of sir Edwin Sands, soon after their adjournment, which
had such unfortunate consequences, that the commons
protested, Dec. 18, against the invasion of their privileges.
The king prorogued the parliament upon the 21st; and on
the 27th, sir Edward Coke was committed to the Tower,
his chambers in the Temple broke open, and his papers
delivered to sir Robert Cotton and Mr. Wilson to examine.
January 6, 1622, the parliament was dissolved: and the
same day sir Edward was charged before the council with
having concealed some true examinations in the great
cause of the earl of Somerset, and obtruding false ones:
nevertheless, he was soon after released, but not without
receiving high marks of the king’s resentment: for he was
a second time turned out of the king’s privy-council, the
king giving him this character, that “he was the fittest
instrument for a tyrant that ever was in England.
” And
yet, says Wilson, in the house he called the king’s prerogative an overgrown monster. Towards the close of
1623 he was nominated, with several others, to whom large
powers were given, to go gver to Ireland; which nomination, though accompanied with high expressions of kindness and confidence, was made with no other view but to
get him out of the way for fear he should be troublesome,
but he remained firm in his opinions, nor does it appear
that he ever sought to be reconciled to the court; so that
he was absolutely out of favour at the death of king James.
In the beginning of the next reign, when it was found
necessary to call a second parliament, he was pricked for
sheriff of Bucks in 1625, to prevent his being chosen. He
laboured all he could to avoid it, but in vain; so that he
was obliged to serve the office, and to attend the judges at
the. assizes, where he had often presided as lord chief
justice. This did not hinder his being elected knight of
the shire for Bucks in the parliament of 1628, in which he
distinguished himself more than any man in the house of
commons, spoke warmly for the redress of grievances,
argued boldly in defence of the liberty of the subject, and
strenuously supported the privilege of the house. It was
he that proposed and framed the petition of rights; and,
June 1628, he made a speech, in which he named the
duke of Buckingham as the cause of all our miseries,
though, lord Clarendon tells us, he had before blasphemously
styled him the saviour of the nation; but although there is
no great reason to conclude that all this opposition to the
arbitrary measures of the court flowed from any principles
of patriotism, he became for a time the idol of the party
in opposition to the court, and his conduct at this time is
still mentioned with veneration by their historians and advocates. Our own opinion is, that although lord Coke
was occasionally under the influence of temper or interest,
he was, upon the whole, a more independent character than
his enemies will admit. After the dissolution of this parliament, which happened the March following, he retired
to his house at Stoke Fogeys in Buckinghamshire^ where
he spent the remainder of his days; and there, Sept.
3, 1634, breathed his last in his eighty-sixth year, expiring with these words in his mouth, as his monument informs us, “Thy kingdom come! thy will be done!
”
While he lay upon his death-bed, sir Francis Windebank,
by an order of council, came to search for seditious and
dangerous papers by virtue whereof he took his “Commentary upon Littleton,
” and the “History of his Life
”
before it, written with his own hand, his “Commentary
upon Magna Charta, &c.
” the “Pleas of the Crown,
” and
the “Jurisdiction of Courts,
” his eleventh and* twelfth
“Reports
” in ms. and 51 other Mss. with the last will of
sir Edward, wherein he had been making provision for his
younger grand-children. The books and papers were kept
till seven years after, when one of his sons in 1641 moved
the house of commons, that the books and papers taken by
sir Francis Windebank might be delivered to sir Robert
Coke, heir of sir Edward; which the king was pleased to
grant. Such of them as could be found were accordingly
delivered up, but the will was never heard of more.
r, in London, in December, 1579. Leland has noticed him among other learned men of our nation. He is called by Strype “a person more earnest than wise,” but Ascham highly
, a person of considerable learning in
the sixteenth century, was born at Godshill in the Isle of
Wight, and educated in Wykeham’s school near Winchester. From thence he was chosen to New college, Oxford,
of which he became perpetual fellow in 1523, and studying
the civil law, took the degree of bachelor in that faculty,
March 3, 1529-30. He then travelled into Italy, and improved himself in his studies at Padua, being a zealous
Roman catholic, but upon his return to England, he acknowledged king Henry VIII. to be the supreme head of
the church of England. In 1540, he took the degree of
doctor of the civil law; and the same year resigned his fellowship, being then settled in London, an advocate in the
court of arches, prebendary of Yatminster Secunda in the
church of Sarum, and about the same time was made archdeacon of Ely. In September, 1540, he was admitted to
the rectory of Chelmsford in Essex; and in October following, collated to the prebend of Holbora, which he resigned April 19, 1541; and was the same day collated to
that of Sneating, which he voiding by cession in March
ensuing, was collated to the prebend of Wenlakesbarne.
In 1542 he was elected warden of New College; and in
1545 made rector of Newton Longville in Buckinghamshire. Soon after, when king Edward VI. came to the
crown, Dr. Cole outwardly embraced, and preached up
the reformation, but altering his mind, he resigned his
rectory of Chelmsford in 1547; and in 1551 his wardenship of New College; and the year following, his rectory
of Newton Longville. After queen Mary’s accession to
the crown, he became again a zealous Roman catholic
and in 1554 was made provost of Eton college, of which
he had been fellow. The same year, June 20, he had
the degree of D. D. conferred on him, and was one of
the divines that disputed publicly at Oxford with archbishop Cranmer, and bishop Ridley. He also preached
the funeral sermon before archbishop Cranmer' s execution.
He was appointed one of the commissioners to visit the
university of Cambridge; was elected dean of St. Paul’s
the llth of December, 1556; made (August 8, 1557) vicar-general of the spiritualities under cardinal Pole, archbishop of Canterbury; and the first of October following,
official of the arches, and dean of the peculiars; and in
November ensuing, judge of the court of audience. In
1558 he was appointed one of the overseers of that cardinal’s will. In the first year of queen Elizabeth’s reign
he was one of the eight catholic divines who disputed
publicly at Westminster with the same number of protestants, and distinguished himself then and afterwards,
by his writings in favour of popery, for which he was deprived of his deanery, fined five hundred marks, and imprisoned. He died in or near Wood -street compter, in
London, in December, 1579. Leland has noticed him
among other learned men of our nation. He is called by
Strype “a person more earnest than wise,
” but Ascham
highly commends him for his learning and humanity. It
is evident, however, that he accommodated his changes of
opinions to the times, although in his heart he was among
the most bigotted and implacable opponents of the reformed religion. His writings were, 1. “Disputation with
archbishop Cranmer and bishop Ridley at Oxford,
” in
Funeral Sermon at the Burning of Dr. Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury.
” Both these are
in Fox’s Acts and Monuments. 3. “Letters to John Jewell,
bishop of Salisbury, upon occasion of a Sermon that the said
bishop preached before the queen’s majesty and her honourable council, anno 1560,
” Lond.Letters to bishop
Jewell, upon occasion of a Sermon of his preached at Paul’s
Cross on the second Sunday before Easter, in 1560.
” 5.
“An Answer to the first proposition of the Protestants, at
the Disputation before the lords at Westminster.
” These
last are in Burnet’s History of the Reformation.
rocyn, and others, afterwards professed to teach it at Oxford, they were opposed by a set of men who called themselves Trojans. Colet, however, was well skilled in mathematics;
, a learned English divine, and the.
founder of St. Paul’s school, was born in the parish of St.
Antholin, London, in 1466, and was the eldest son of sir
Henry Colet, knt. twice lord-mayor, who had besides him
twenty-one children. In 1483 he was sent to Magdalen
college in Oxford, where he spent seven years in the study
of logic and philosophy, and took the degrees in arts. He
was perfectly acquainted with Cicero’s works, and no
stranger to Plato and Plotinus, whom he read together,
that they might illustrate each other. He could, hcfwever,
read them only in the Latin translations; for neither at
school nor university had he any opportunity of learning
the Greek, that language being then thought unnecessary,
and even discouraged. Hence the proverb, “Cave a Graecis, ne lias haereticus,
” that is, “Beware of Greek, lest
you become an heretic;
” and it is well known, that when
Linacer, Grocyn, and others, afterwards professed to teach
it at Oxford, they were opposed by a set of men who
called themselves Trojans. Colet, however, was well skilled
in mathematics; and having thus laid a good foundation of
learning at home, he travelled abroad for farther improvement first to France, and then to Italy; and seems to
have continued in those two countries from 1493 to 1497.
But before his departure, and indeed when he was of but
two years standing in the university, he was instituted to
the rectory of Denington in Suffolk, to which he was presented by a relation of his mother, and which he held to
the day of his death. This practice of taking livings, while
thus under age, generally prevailed in the church of Rome;
and Colet, being then an acolythe, which is one of their
seven orders, was qualitied for it. He was also presented
by his own father, Sept. 30, 1485, to the rectory of Thyrning in Huntingdonshire, but he resigned it about the latter end of 1493, probably before he set out on his travels.
Being arrived at Paris, he soon became^ acquainted with
the learned there, with the celebrated Budaeus in particular; and was afterwards introduced to Erasmus. In
Italy he contracted a friendship with several eminent persons, especially with his own countrymen, Grocyn, Linacer, Lilly, and Latimer; who were learning the Greek
tongue, then but little known in England, under those
great masters Demetrius, Angel us Politianus, Hermolaus
Barbarus, and Pomponius Sabinus. He took this opportunity of improving himself in this language; and having
devoted himself to divinity, he read, while abroad, the
best of the antient fathers, particularly Origen, Cyprian,
Ambrose, and Jerome, but, it is said, very much undervalued St. Augustine. He looked sometimes also into Sco^
tus and Aquinas, studied the civil and canon law, made
himself acquainted with the history and constitution of
church and state; and with a view to refinement, not very
common at that time, did not neglect to read such English
poets, and other authors of the belles lettres, as were then
extant. During his absence from England he was made a
prebendary of York, and installed by proxy upon March
5, 1494, and was also made canon of St. Martin’s Le Grand,
London, and prebendary of Good Easter, in the same
church. Upon his return in 1497 he was ordained deacon
in December, and priest in July following. He had, indeed, before he entered into orders, great temptations
from his natural disposition to lay aside study, and give
himself up to the gaiety of the court, for he was rather
luxuriously inclined; but he curbed his passions by great
temperance and circumspection, and after staying a few
months with his father and mother at London, retired to
Oxford.
s cathedral. He introduced a new practice of preaching himself upon Sundays and great festivals, and called to his assistance other learned persons, such as Grocyn, and
Here he read public lectures on St. Paul’s epistles, without stipend or reward; which, being a new thing, drew a vast crowd of hearers, who admired him greatly. And here he strengthened his memorable friendship with Erasmus, who came to Oxford in 1497, which remained unshaken and inviolable to the day of their deaths. He continued these lectures three years; and in 1501 was admitted to proceed in divinity, or to the reading of the sentences. In 1502 he became prebendary of Durnesford, in the churcfa of Sarum, and in Jan. 1504, resigned his prebend of Good Easter. In the same year he commenced D. D. and in May 1505, was instituted to the prebend of Mora in St. Paul’s, London. The same year and month he was made dean of that church, without the least application of his own; and being raised to this high station, he began to reform the decayed discipline of his cathedral. He introduced a new practice of preaching himself upon Sundays and great festivals, and called to his assistance other learned persons, such as Grocyn, and Sowle, whom he appointed to read divinity-lectures. These lectures raised in the nation a spirit of inquiry after the holy scriptures, which had long been laid aside for the school divinity; and eventually prepared for the reformation, which soon after ensued. Colet was unquestionably in some measure instrumental towards it, though he did not live to see it effected; for he expressed a great contempt of religious houses, exposed the abuses that prevailed in them, and set forth the danger of imposing celibacy on the clergy. This way of thinking, together with his free and public manner of communicating his thoughts, which were then looked upon as impious and heretical, made him obnoxious to the clergy, and exposed him to persecution from the bishop of London, Dr. Fitzjames; who, being a rigid bigot, could not bear to have the corruptions in his church spoken against, and therefore accused him to archbishop Warham as a dangerous man, preferring at the same time some articles against him. But Warham, well knowing the worth and integrity of Colet, dismissed him, without giving him the trouble of putting in any formal answer. The bishop, however, not satisfied with that fruitless attempt, endeavoured afterwards to stir up the king and the court against him; nay, we are told in bishop Latimer’s sermons, that he was not only in trouble, but would have been burnt, if God had not turned the king’s heart to the contrary.
a Joanne Coleto, decano ecclesioe sancti Pauli Londin. in usum scholae ab ipso institutae:” commonly called “Paul’s Accidence, 1539,” 8vo. 3. “The construction of the eight
Of his writings, those which he published himself, or
which have been published since his death, are as follow:
1. “Oratio habita a doctore Johanne Colet, decano sancti
Pauli, ad clerum in convocatione, anno 1511.
” This being hardly to be met with, except in the Bodleian library
at Oxford, among archbishop Laud’s Mss. was reprinted
by Knight in his appendix to the life of Colet; where also
is reprinted an old English translation of it, supposed to
have been done by the author himself. 2. “Rudimenta
grammatices a Joanne Coleto, decano ecclesioe sancti Pauli
Londin. in usum scholae ab ipso institutae:
” commonly
called “Paul’s Accidence, 1539,
” 8vo. 3. “The construction of the eight parts of speech, entitled Absolutissimus de octo orationis partium constructione libellus:
”
which, with some alterations, and great additions, makes
up the syntax in Lilly’s grammar, Antwerp, 1530, 8vo. 4.
“Daily Devotions or, the Christian’s morning and evening sacrifice.
” This is said not to be all of his composition.
5. “Monition to a godly Life,
” Epistolae ad Erasmum.
” Many of them are printed among
Erasmus’s epistles, and some at the end of Knight’s Life of
Colet. There are still remaining in ms. others of his
pieces, enumerated in the account of his Life by Knight.
It is probable that he had no intention of publishing any
thing himself; for he had an inaccuracy and incorrectness
in his way of writing, which was likely to expose him to
the censures of critics; and besides, was no perfect master
of the Greek tongue, without which he thought a man was
nothing. The pieces above mentioned were found after his
death in a very obscure corner of his study, as if he had
designed they should lie buried in oblivion; and were written in such a manner as if intended to be understood by
nobody but himself. With regard to sermons, he wrote
but few; for he generally preached without notes.
o be extremely afflicted at the event, ordered strict inquiry to be made after the author of it, and called Coligni by the tender name of father. This was at the very time
, the second of the name, of an
ancient family, admiral of France, was born the 16th of February 1516, at Chatillon-sur-Loing. He bore arms from
his very infancy. He signalized himself under Francis I. at
the battle of Cerisoles, and under Henry II. who made him
colonel-general of the French infantry, and afterwards admiral of France, in 1552; favours which he obtained by
the brilliant actions he performed at the battle of Renti, by
his zeal for military discipline, by his victories over the
Spaniards, and especially by the defence of St. Quintin.
The admiral threw himself into that place, and exhibited
prodigies of valour; but the town being forced, he was
made prisoner of war. After the death of Henry II. he
put himself at the head of the protestants against the
Guises, and formed so powerful a party as to threaten ruin
to the Romish religion in France. We are told by a
contemporary historian, that the court had not a more formidable enemy, next to Conde, who had joined with him. The
latter was more ambitious, more enterprising, more active.
Coligni was of a sedater temper, more cautious, and fitter to
be the leader of a party; as unfortunate, indeed, in war as
Conde, but often repairing by his ability what had seemed
irreparable; more dangerous after a defeat, than his enemies
after a victory; and moreover adorned with as many virtues
as such tempestuous times and the spirit of party would
allow. He seemed to set no value on his life. Being
wounded, and his friends lamenting around him, he said
to them with incredible constancy, “The business we follow should make us as familiar with death as with life.
”
The first pitcht battle that happened between the protestants
and the catholics, was that of Dreux, in 1562. The admiral fought bravely, lost it, but saved the army. The
duke of Guise having been murdered by treachery, a short
time afterwards, at the siege of Orleans, he was accused
of having connived at this base assassination; but he cleared
himself of the charge by oath. The civil wars ceased for
some time, but only to recommence with greater fury in
1567. Coligni and Conde fought the battle of St. Denys
against the constable of Montmorenci. This indecisive
day was followed by that of Jarnac, in 1569, fatal to the
protestants. Concle having been killed in a shocking manner, Coligni had to sustain the whole weight of the party,
and alone supported that unhappy cause, and was again
defeated at the affair of Men Icon tour, in Poitou, without
suffering his courage to be shaken for a moment. An advantageous peace seemed shortly after to terminate these
bloody conflicts, in 1571. Coligni appeared at court,
where he was loaded with caresses, in common with all the
rest of his party. Charles IX. ordered him to be paid a
hundred thousand francs as a reparation of the losses he
had sustained, and restored to him his place in the council.
On all hands, however, he was exhorted to distrust these
perfidious caresses. A captain of the protestants, who was
retiring into the country, came to take leave of him: Coligni asked him the reason of so sudden a retreat: “It is,
”
said the soldier, “because they shew us too many kindnesses here: I had rather escape with the fools, than perish
with such as are over-wise.
” A horrid conspiracy soon
broke out. One Friday the admiral coming to the Louvre,
was fired at by a musquet from a window, and dangerously
wounded in the right hand and in the left arm, by Maurevert, who had been employed by the duke de Guise, who
had proposed the scheme to Charles IX. The king of Navarre and the prince of Cond6 complained of this villainous
act. Charles IX. trained to the arts of dissimulation by his
mother, pretended to be extremely afflicted at the event,
ordered strict inquiry to be made after the author of it, and
called Coligni by the tender name of father. This was at
the very time when he was meditating the approaching
massacre of the protestants. The carnage began, as is well
known, the 24th of August, St. Bartholomew’s day, 1572.
The duke de Guise, under a strong escort, marched to the
house of the admiral. A crew of assassins, headed by one
Besme, a domestic of the house of Guise, entered sword
in hand, and found him sitting in an elbow-chair. “Young
man,
” said he to their leader in a calm and tranquil manner,
“thou shouldst have respected my gray hairs but, do
what thou wilt thou canst only shorten my life by a few
days.
” This miscreant, after having stabbed him in several places, threw him out at the window into the court-yard
of the house, where the duke of Guise stood waiting.
Coligni fell at the feet of his base and implacable enemy,
and said, according to some writers, as he was just expiring “If at least I had died by the hand of a gentleman, and not by that of a turnspit!
” Besme, having
trampled on the corpse, said to his companions: “A good
beginning! let us go and continue our work!
” His body
was exposed for three days to the fury of the populace,
and then hung up by the feet on the gallows of Montfaucon. Montmorenci, his cousin, had it taken down, in order
to bury it secretly in the chapel of the chateau de Chantilli. An Italian, having cut off the head of the admiral,
carried it to Catherine de Medicis; and this princess
caused it to be embalmed, and sent it to Rome. Coligni
was in the habit of keeping a journal, which, after his
death, was put into the hands of Charles IX. In this was
remarked a piece of advice which he gave that prince, to
take care of what he did in assigning the appanage, lest
by so doing he left them too great an authority. Catherine
caused this article to be read before the duke of Alei^on,
whpm she knew to be afflicted at the death of the admiral:
“There is your good friend!
” said she, “observe the advice he gives the king!
” “I cannot say,
” returned the
duke, “whether he was very fond of me; but 1 know that
such advice could have been given only by a man of strict
fidelity to his majesty, and zealous for the good of his
country.
” Charles IX. thought this journal worth being
printed; but the marshal de Retz prevailed on him to
throw it into the fire. We shall conclude this article with
the parallel drawn by the abbe“de Mably of the admiral de
Coligni, and of Francois de Lorraine, due de Guise.
” Coligni was the greatest general of his time; as courageous
as the duke of Guise, but less impetuous, because he had
always been less successful. He was fitter for forming
grand projects, and more prudent in the particulars of their
executioj. Guise, by a more brilliant courage, which
astonished his enemies, reduced conjunctures to the province of his genius, and thus rendered himself in some sort
master of them. Coligni obeyed them, but like a commander superior to them. In the same circumstances ordinary men would have observed only courage in the conduct of the one, and only prudence in that of the other,
though both of them had these two qualities, but variously
subordinated. Guise, more successful, had fewer opportunities for displaying the resources of his genius: his dexterous ambition, and, like that of Pompey, apparently
founded on the very interests of the princes it was endeavouring to ruin, while it pretended to serve them, was
supported on the authority of his name till it had acquired
strength enough to stand by itself. Coligni, less criminal,
though he appeared to be more so, openly, like Caesar,
declared war upon his prince and the whole kingdom of
France. Guise had the art of conquering, and of profiting
by the victory. Coligni lost four battles, and was always
the terror of his victors, whom he seemed to have vanquished. It is not easy to say what the former would have
been in the disasters that befell Coligni; but we may
boldly conjecture that the latter would have appeared still
greater, if fortune had favoured him as much. He was
seen carried in a litter, and we may add in the very jaws of
death, to order and conduct the longest and most difficult
marches, traversing France in the midst of his enemies,
rendering by his counsels the youthful courage of the
prince of Navarre more formidable, and training him to
those great qualities which were to make him a good king,
generous, popular, and capable of managing the affairs
of Europe, after having made him a hero, sagacious,
terrible, and clement in the conduct of war. The good
understanding he kept up between the French and the
Germans of his army, whom the interests of religion alone
were ineffectual to unite; the prudence with which he contrived to draw succours from England, where all was not
quiet; his art in giving a spur to the tardiness of the
princes of Germany, who, not having so much genius as
himself, were more apt to despair of saving the protestantsof France, and deferred to send auxiliaries, who were
no longer hastened in their march by the expectation of
plunder in a country already ravaged; are master-pieces of
his policy. Coligni was an honest man. Guise wore the
mask of a greater number of virtues; but all were infected
by his ambition. He had all the qualities that win the
heart of the multitude. Coligni, more collected in himself, was more esteemed by his enemies, and respected by
his own people. He was a lover of order and of his country. Ambition might bear him up, but it never first set
him in motion. Hearty alike in the cause of protestantism
and of his country, he was never able, by too great austerity, to make his doctrine tally with the duties of a subject. With the qualities of a hero, he was endowed with a
gentle soul. Had he been less of the great man, he would
have been a fanatic; he was an apostle and a zealot. His
life was first published in 1575, 8vo, and translated and
published in English in 1576, by Arthur Golding. There
is also a life by Courtilz, 1686, 12mo, and one in the
“Hommes Illustres de France.
”
to. This was written in, answer to a pamphlet of Dr. Gilbert Burnet, afterwards bishop of Salisbury, called “An Enquiry into the present State of Affairs, &c.” wherein
Collier, however, was of too active a spirit to remain
supine, and therefore began the attack upon the revolution:
for his pamphlet is said to have been the first written on
that side the question after the prince of Orange’s arrival,
with a piece entitled “The Desertion discussed in a letter
to a country gentleman, 1688,
” 4to. This was written in,
answer to a pamphlet of Dr. Gilbert Burnet, afterwards
bishop of Salisbury, called “An Enquiry into the present
State of Affairs, &c.
” wherein king James is treated as a
deserter from his crown; and it gave such offence, that,
after the government was settled, Collier was sent to Newgate, where he continued a close prisoner for some months,
but was at length discharged without being brought to a
trial. He afterwards published the following pieces: 1.
A translation of the 9th, 10th, llth, and 12th books of
Sleidan’s Commentaries, 1689, 4to. 2. “Vindiciae juris
regii, or remarks upon a paper entitled An Enquiry into
the measures of submission to the Supreme Authority,
”
Animadversions upon the modern explanation
of 2 Hen. VII. chap. i. or a king de facto,
” 1689, 4to. 4.
“A Caution against Inconsistency, or the connection between praying and swearing, in relation to the Civil Powers,
” A Dialogue concerning the
Times, between Philobelgus and Sempronius, 1690, 4to:
to the right honourable the lords, and to the gentlemen
convened at Westminster, Oct. 1690.
” This is a petition
for an inquiry into the birth of the prince of Wales, and
printed upon a half sheet. 6. “Dr. Sherlock’s Case of
Allegiance considered, with some remarks upon his Vindication,
” A brief essay concerning the
independency of Church Power,
”
ed April 9, 1696, the other April 21, 1696;” to which is added, “A Postscript in relation to a paper called An Answer to his Defence, &c. dated April 25.” Also, “A Reply
We hear no more of Collier till 1696; and then we find
him acting a very extraordinary part, in regard to sir John
Friend and sir William Perkins, who were convicted of
being concerned in the assassination plot. Collier, with
Cook and Snatt, two clergymen of his own way of thinking, attended those unhappy persons at the place of their
execution, upon April 3; where Collier solemnly absolved
the former, as Cook did the latter, and all three joined in
the imposition of hands upon them both. This, as might
well be expected, was looked upon as an high insult on
the civil and ecclesiastical government; for which reason
there was a declaration, signed by the two archbishops
and the bishops of London, Durham, Winchester, Coven<try and Litchfield, Rochester, Hereford, Norwich, Peterborough, Gloucester, Chichester, and, St. Asaph, in which
they signified their abhorrence of this scandalous, irregular,
schismatic, and seditious proceeding. This “Declaration,
”
which may be seen in the Appendix to the third vol. of the
State Tracts in the time of king William, did not only
bring upon them ecclesiastical censure; they were prosecuted also in the secular courts, as enemies to the government. In consequence of this Cook and Snatt were committed to Newgate, but afterwards released without being
brought to a trial; but Collier having still his old scruple
about putting in bail, and absconding, was outlawed, and
so continued to the time of his death. He did not fail,
however, to have recourse to his pen as usual, in order to
justify his conduct upon this occasion; and therefore pubJished, 13. “A Defence of the Absolution given to sir William Perkins at the place of execution; with a farther vindication thereof, occasioned by a paper entitled, A Declaration of the sense of the archbishops and bishops, &c.
the first dated April 9, 1696, the other April 21, 1696;
”
to which is added, “A Postscript in relation to a paper
called An Answer to his Defence, &c. dated April 25.
”
Also, “A Reply to the Absolution of a Penitent according
to the directions of the church of England, &c.
” dated
May 20, 1696: and “An Answer to the Animadversions
on two pamphlets lately published by Mr. Collier, &c.
”
dated July 1, 1696, 4to.
ere printed in 1701, the third, under the title of a “Supplement,” in 1705, and the fourth, which is called “An Appendix,” in 1721. This was a work of great utility at
The next thing Collier undertook was a work of considerable industry, that of translating Moreri’s great “Historical, geographical, genealogical, and poetical Dictionary.
” The two first volumes were printed in Supplement,
” in An Appendix,
” in An English translation of Antoninus’s Meditations,
&c. to which is added, the Mythological Picture of Cebes,
&c.
” In the reign of queen Anne, some overtures were
made to engage him to a compliance, and he was promised
preferment, if he would acknowledge and submit to the
government; but as he became a nonjuror upon a principle of conscience, he could not be prevailed upon to
listen to any terms. Afterwards he published, in 2 vols.
folio, “An Ecclesiastical History of Great Britain, chiefly
of England, from the first planting of Christianity, to the
end of the reign of Charles II. with a brief account of the
affairs of religion in Ireland, collected from the best ancient historians, councils, and records.
” The first volume,
which comes down to Henry Vie was published in 1708,
the second in 1714. This history, which contains, besides
a relation of facts, many curious discourses upon ecclesiastical and religious subjects, was censured by bishop
Burnet, bishop Nicolson, and doctor Kennet, afterwards
bishop of Peterborough; but was defended by Collier in
two pieces. The first was entitled “An Answer to some
exceptions in bishop Burnet’s third part of the History of
the Reformation, &c. against Mr. Collier’s Ecclesiastical History; together with a reply to some remarks in bishop Nicolson’s English Historical Library, &c. upon the same subject, 1715;
” the second, “Some Remarks on Dr. Kennet’s second and third Letters; wherein his misrepresenta-.
tions of Mr. Collier’s Ecclesiastical History are laid open,
and his calumnies disproved, 1717.
” Collier’s prejudices,
however, in favour of the popish establishment, aud against
the reformers, render it necessary to read this work with
much caution: on the other hand, we cannot but observe,
to Collier’s credit, an instance of his great impartiality in
the second volume of his history; which is, that in disculpating the presbyterians from the imputation of their being
consenting to the murder of Charles I. he has shewn, that
as they only had it in their power to protest, so they did
protest against that bloody act, both before and after it was
committed.
On the breaking out of the war with France in 1793, he was called to the command of the Prince, rear-admiral Bowyer’s flag-ship,
On the breaking out of the war with France in 1793, he was called to the command of the Prince, rear-admiral Bowyer’s flag-ship, with whom he served in this ship, and afterwards in the Barfleur, until the engagement of June 1, 1794. In this action he distinguished himself with great bravery, and the ship which he commanded is known to have had its full share in the glory of the day; though it has been the subject of conversation with the public, and was probably the source of some painful feelings at the moment in the captain’s own mind, that no notice was taken of his services upon this occasion, nor his name once mentioned in the official dispatches of lord Howe to the admiralty.
dazzle the public eye. On the re-commencement of hostilities, however, admiral Collingwood was again called into service, and on the promotion of admirals on the 23d of
It did not fall to his lot to have any share in the subse-r quent battle of the Nile, nor had he the good fortune to be placed in a station where any further opportunity was afforded to display his talents during the remainder of the war. He continued in the command of the Excellent, under the flag of lord St. Vincent, till January 1799, when his ship was paid off: and on the 14th of February, in the same year, on the promotion of flag officers, he was raised to the rank of rear-admiral of the white; and on the 12th of May following, hoisted his flag on board the Triumph, one of the ships under the command of lord Bridport on the Channel station. In the month of June 1800 he shifted his flag to the Barfleur, on the same station; and in 1801 was promoted to the rank of rear-admiral of the red, in which ship, and upon the same service, he continued to the end of the war, without any opportunity of doing more than effectually blockading the enemy’s fleet in their own ports, while they were proudly vaunting of their preparations for invading us: a service not less important to the honour, the interest, and the security of the nation, than those more brilliant achievements which dazzle the public eye. On the re-commencement of hostilities, however, admiral Collingwood was again called into service, and on the promotion of admirals on the 23d of April, 1804, was made vice-admiral of the blue, and resumed his former station off Brest. The close blockade which admiral Cornwallis kept up requiring a constant succession of ships, the vice-admiral shifted his flag from ship to ship as occasion required, by which he was always upon his station in a ship fit for service, without the necessity of quitting his station, and returning to port for victualling or repairs. But from this station he was called in May 1805, to a more active service, having been detached with a reinforcement of ships to the blockading fleet at Ferrol And Cadiz. Perhaps it would be difficult to fix upon a period, or a part of the character of lord Collingwood, which called for powers of a more peculiar kind, o-r displayed his talents to more advantage, than the period and the service in which he was now employed. Left with only four ships of the line, to keep in nearly four tjmes the number, it seems almost impossible so to have divided his little force as to deceive the enemy, and effect the object of his service; but this he certainly accomplished. With two of his ships close in as usual to watch the motions of the enemy, and make signals to the other two, which were so disposed, and at a distance from one another, as to repeat those signals from one to the other, and again to other ships that were supposed to receive and answer them, he continued to delude the enemy, and led them to conclude that these were only part of a larger force that was not in sight, and thus he not only secured his own ships, but effected an important service to his country, by preventing the execution of any plan that the enemy might have had in contemplation.
e twentieth article of the Articles of the Church of England.” And, Feb. the year following, another called “Reflections on a late pamphlet,entitled, Priestcraft in perfection,
Dec. 1709, came out a pamphlet, entitled, “Priestcraft in perfection; or, a detection of the fraud of inserting and continuing that clause, ‘ The church hath power
to decree rites and ceremonies, and authority in controversies of faith,’ in the twentieth article of the Articles of the
Church of England.
” And, Feb. the year following, another called “Reflections on a late pamphlet,entitled,
Priestcraft in perfection, &c.
” both written by our author.
The second and third editions of his “Priestcraft in perfection
” were printed, with corrections, in An historical and
critical essay on the 39 Articles of the Church of England:
wherein it is demonstrated, that this clause, ‘The Church,
&c.’ inserted in the 20th article, is not a part of the article, as they were established by act of parliament in the
13th of Elizabeth, or agreed on by the convocations of
1562 and 1571.
” This essay, however, was principally designed as an answer to “The vindication of the Church of
England from the aspersions of a late libel, entitled, Priestcraft in perfection, wherein the controverted clause of the
church’s power in the 20th article is shewn to be of equal
authority with all the rest of the articles, in 1710,
” and to
“An essay on the 39 Articles by Dr. Thomas Bennet,
”
published in two chief works,
” says Collins,
“which seem written by those champions who have been
supplied with materials from all quarters, and have taken
great pains themselves to put their materials into the most
artful light.
” In the preface he tells us, that he
undertook this work at the solicitations of a worthy minister of
the gospel, who knew that he had made some inquiries
into the “Modern Ecclesiastical History of England;
” and,
particularly, that he was preparing “An history of the
variations of the church of England and its clergy from the
reformation down to this time, with an answer to the
cavils of the papists, made on occasion of the said variations:
” but this work never appeared. The reader may
see the whole state of this controversy in Collier’s “Ecclesiastical History,
” where particular notice is taken of
our author.
me. In 1713 he published his “Discourse of Freethinking, occasioned by the rise and growth of a sect called Free-thinkers;” which was attacked by several writers, particularly
In 1710 he published “A vindication of the Divine Attributes, in some remarks on the archbishop of Dublin’s
(Dr. King) sermon, entitled, Divine predestination and
foreknowledge consisting with the freedom of man’s will.
”
March Discourse of Freethinking, occasioned by the rise and growth of a sect called Free-thinkers;
” which was attacked by several writers,
particularly by Hoadly, afterwards bishop of Winchester,
in some “Queries recommended to the authors of the late
discourse of Free-thinking,
” printed in his collection of
tracts in Remarks upon a late Discourse of Free-thinking, in a letter to F. H. D. D.
” This Phileleutherus Lipsiensis was the
learned Bentley; and the person to whom this performance
is addressed, Hare, afterwards bishop of Chichester. The
first part of these remarks gave birth to a pamphlet said to be
written by Hare, entitled, “The clergyman’s thanks to
Phileleutherus for his remarks on the late Discourse of Freethinking: in a letter to Dr. Bentley, 1713.
” The late
Mr. Cumberland, in his “Life of himself,
” informs us, that
when Collins had fallen into decay of circumstances,
which, however, we find no where else mentioned, Dr.
Bentley, suspecting he had written him out of credit by
his “Phileleutherus Lipsiensis,
” secretly contrived to administer to the necessities of his baffled opponent in a manner that did no less credit to his delicacy than his liberality. Of all this Dr. Bentley we believe was capable,
but it is certain that Collins lived and died in opulence.
Soon after the publication of this work, Collins made a
second trip to Holland; which was ascribed to the general
alarm caused by the “Discourse of Free-thinking,
” and
himself being discovered by his printer. This is taken
notice of by Hare: who, having observed that the least appearance of danger is able to damp in a moment all the
zeal of the free-thinkers, tells us, that “a bare inquiry
after the printer of their wicked book has frightened them,
and obliged the reputed author to take a second trip into
Holland; so great is his courage to defend upon the first
appearance of an opposition. And are not these rare
champions for free-thinking? Is not their book a demonstration that we are in possession of the liberty they pretend to plead for, which otherwise they durst ne'er have
writ? And that they would have been as mute as fishes,
had they not thought they could have opened with impunity? M Hare afterwards tells us, that
” the reputed author of free-thinking is, for all he ever heard, a sober man,
thanks to his natural aversion to intemperance; and that,“he observed,
” is more than can be said of some others of
the club:“that is, the club of free-thinkers, which were
supposed to meet and plan schemes in concert, for undermining the foundations of revealed religion. The
” Discourse of Free-thinking“was reprinted at the Hague, with
some considerable additions, in 1713, 12mo, though in
the title-page it is said to be printed at London. In this
edition the translations in several places are corrected from
Bentley’s remarks; and some references are made to those
remarks, and to Hare’s
” Clergyman’s thanks."
Historical and critical essay upon the 39 Articles, &c.” The same year he published his famous book, called “A discourse of the grounds and reasons of the Christian religion,”
It has already been observed, that he published, in 1724,
his “Historical and critical essay upon the 39 Articles,
&c.
” The same year he published his famous book, called
“A discourse of the grounds and reasons of the Christian
religion,
” in two parts the first, containing some considerations on the quotations made from the Old in the New
Testament, and particularly on the prophecies cited from
the former, and said to be fulfilled in the latter. The second, containing an examination of the scheme advanced
by Whiston in his essay towards restoring the true text of
the Old Testament, and for vindicating the citations thence
made in the New Testament. To which is prefixed, “An
apology for free debate and liberty of writing.
” This discourse was immediately attacked by a great number of
books; of which Collins has given a complete list, at the
end of the preface to his “Scheme of literal Prophecy.
”
The most considerable were: 1. “A list of suppositions or
assertions in the late Discourse of the grounds, &c. which
are not therein supported by any real or authentic evidence; for which some such evidence is expected to he
produced. By William Whiston, M. A.
” The literal accomplishment of scripture -prophecies, being a full answer to a late Discourse of the
grounds, &c. By William Whiston.
” 3. “A defence of
Christianity from the prophecies of the Old Testament,
wherein are considered all the objections against this kind
of proof, advanced in a late Discourse of the grounds, &c.
”
By Edward Chandler, then bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, afterwards of Durham. 4. “A discourse of the
Connection of the Prophecies in the Old Testament, and
application of them to Christ.
” By Samuel Clarke, D. D.
rector of St. James’s, Westminster. This however was
not intended for a direct answer to Collins’s book, but as
a supplement, occasioned by it, to a proposition in Clarke’s
“Demonstration of the principles of natural and revealed
religion
” with which it has since been constantly printed.
5. “An essay upon the Truth of the Christian religion,
wherein its real foundation upon the Old Testament is
shewn, occasioned by the Discourse of the grounds,
” &c.
By Arthur Ashley Sykes. Collins gives it as his opinion,
that of all the writers against the “Grounds,
” &c. Sykes
alone has advanced a consistent scheme of things, which
he has proposed with great clearness, politeness, and
moderation. 6. “The use and intent of Prophecy in the
several ages of the church. In six discourses delivered at
the Temple church in 1724.
” By Thomas Sherlock, D. D.
This was not designed as an answer to the “Grounds,
”
&c. but only to throw light upon the argument from prophecy attacked by our author. The reader will find the
rest of the pieces written against the “Grounds,
” &c.
enumerated by Collins in the place referred to above;
among which are Sermons, London Journals, Woolston’s
Moderator between an infidel and an apostate, &c. amounting in number to no less than thirty-five, including those
already mentioned. Perhaps there seldom has been a.
book to which so many answers have been made in so short
a time, that is, within the small compass of two years.
h he endeavours to shew, that those oracles were forged by the primitive Christians, who were thence called Sibyllidts by the pagans. He also mentions a ms discourse of
In 1726 appeared his “Scheme of Literal Prophecy considered; in a view of the controversy occasioned by a late
book, entitled, A Discourse of the Grounds, &c.
” It was
printed at the Hague in 2 vols. 12mo, and reprinted at
London with corrections in 1727, 8vo. In this work he
mentions a dissertation he had written, but never published, against Whiston’s “Vindication of the Sibylline
oracles
” in which he endeavours to shew, that those
oracles were forged by the primitive Christians, who were
thence called Sibyllidts by the pagans. He also mentions
a ms discourse of his upon the miracles recorded in the
Old and New Testament. The “Scheme of Literal Prophecy 1 * had several answers made to it: the most considerable of which are, 1.
” A vindication of the defence
of Christianity, from the prophecies of the Old Testament.“By Edward Chandler, D. D.; with a letter from
the rev. Mr. Masson, concerning the religion of Macrobius,
and his testjfnony touching the slaughter of the infants at
Bethlehem, with a postscript upon Virgil’s fourth eclogue,
1728, in 2 vols. 8vo. 2.
” The necessity of Divine Revelation, and the truth of the Christian Revelation asserted,
in eight sermons. To which is prefixed a preface, with
some remarks on a late book entitled The Scheme of Literal Prophecy considered, &c. By John Rogers, D. D.“1727, 8vo. 3.
” A letter to the author of the London
Journal, April 1, 1727,“written by Dr. Arthur Ashley
Sykes. Collins replied to the two last pieces, in
” A Letter to Rogers, on occasion of his Eight Sermons, &c. to
which is added, a Letter printed in the London Journal,
April 1, 1727; with an answer to the same, 1727.“In
his
” Letter to Rogers“he observes, that the doctor had
invited him to martyrdom in these words:
” A confessor
or two would be a mighty ornament to his cause. If he
expects to convince us that he is in earnest, and believes
himself, he should not decline giving us this proof of his
sincerity. What will not abide this trial, we shall suspect
to have but a poor foundation.“These sentiments, Collins tells us, are in his opinion false, wicked, inhuman, irreligious, inconsistent with the peace pf society, and personally injurious to the author of the
” Scheme, &c.“He remarks, that it is a degree of virtue to speak what a
man thinks, though he may do it in such a way as to avoid
destruction of life and fortune, &c.
” He declares, that
the cause of liberty, which he defends, is “the cause of
virtue, learning, truth, God, religion, and Christianity;
that it is the political interest of all countries; that the
degree of it we enjoy in England is the strength, ornament, and glory of our own; that, if he can contribute to
the defence of so excellent a cause, he shall think he has
acted a good part in life: in short, it is a cause,
” says he
to Dr. Rogers, “in which, if your influence and interest
were equal to your inclination to procure martyrdom for
me, I would rather suffer, than in any cause whatsoever;
though I should be sorry that Christians should Le so weak
and inconsistent with themselves, as to be your instruments in taking my life from me.
”
ng to interest, was reprinted in 1685, in a small 8vo volume In 1658 he published in 4to, a treatise called” The Sector on a Quadrant; containing the description and use
, an eminent accomptant and mathematician, was the son of a nonconformist divine, and born
at Wood Eaton near Oxford in March 1624. At sixteen
years of age he was put apprentice to a bookseller in Oxford; but soon left that trade, and was employed as clerk
under Mr. John Mar, one of the clerks of the kitchen to
prince Charles, afterwards Charles II. This Mar was eminent for his mathematical knowledge, and constructed those
excellent dials with which the gardens of Charles I. were
adorned: and under him Collins made no small progress in
the mathematics. The intestine troubles increasing, he
left that employment and went to sea, where he spent the
greatest part of seven years in an English merchantman,
which became a man of war in the Venetian service against
the Turks. Here having leisure, he applied himself to
merchants accompts, and some parts of the mathematics,
for which he had a natural turn; and on coming home, he
took to the profession of an accomptant, and composed
several useful treatises upon practical subjects. In 1652
he published a work in folio, entitled “An Introduction
to Merchants’ Accompts,
” which was reprinted in with an additional part, entitled
” Supplements to accomptantship and arithmetic.“A part of this work, relating to
interest, was reprinted in 1685, in a small 8vo volume In
1658 he published in 4to, a treatise called
” The Sector
on a Quadrant; containing the description and use of four
several quadrants, each accommodated for the making of
sun-dials, &c. with an appendix concerning reflected dialling, from a glass placed at any inclination.“In 1659,
4to, he published his
” Geometrical dialling;“and also
the same year, his
” Mariner’s plain Scale new plained.“In the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, of
which he was now become a member, he fully explained
and demonstrated the- rule given by the Jesuit De Billy,
for
” finding the number of the Julian period for any year
assigned, the cycles of the sun and moon, with the Roman
indiction for the years being given.“To this he has
added some very neatly-contrived rules for the ready finding on what day of the week any day of the month falls for
ever; and other useful and necessary kalendar rules. In
the same Transactions he has a curious dissertation concerning the resolution of equations in numbers. In No.
69 for March 1671, he has given a most elegant construction of that chorographical problem, namely:
” The distances of three objects in the same plane, and the angles
made at a fourth place in that plane, by observing each
object, being given; to find the distances of those objects
from the place of observation?“In 1680 he published a
small treatise in 4to, entitled
” A Plea for the bringing in
of Irish cattle, and keeping out the fish caught by foreigners; together with an address to the members of parliament of the counties of Cornwall and Devon, about the
advancement of tin, fishery, and divers manufactures.“In
1682 he published in 4to,
” A discourse of Salt and
Fishery;“and in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 159,
for May 1684, is published a letter of his to Dr. JohnWallis,
oh some defects in algebra. Besides these productions of his
own, he was the chief promoter of many other valuable
publications in his time. It is to him that the world is indebted for the publication of Barrow’s
” Optical and geometrical lectures;“his abridgment of
” Archimedes’s works,“and of
” Apollonius’s Conies“Branker’s translation of
” Rhonius’s Algebra, with Pell’s additions“” Kersey’s
Algebra“Wallis’s History of Algebra
” “Strode of Combinations
” and many other excellent works, which were
procured by his unwearied solicitations.
h disapprobation of his t Oriental Eclogues,‘ as not sufficiently expressive of Asiatic manners, and called them his ’ Irish Eclogues.‘ He shewed them, at the same time,
About this time Dr. Johnson fell into his company, who
tells us, that “the appearance of Collins was decent and
manly; his knowledge considerable, his views extensive,
his conversation elegant, and his disposition cheerful. By
degrees,
” adds the doctor, “I gained his confidence; and
one day was admitted to him when he was immured by a
bailiff, that was prowling in the street. On this occasion
recourse was had to the booksellers, who, on the credit of
a translation of ‘ Aristotle’s Poetics,’ which
” he engaged to
write with a large commentary, advanced as much money
as enabled him to escape into the country. He shewed
me the guineas safe in his hand. Soon afterwards his uncle,
Mr. Martin, a lieutenant-colonel, left him about 2000l. a
sum which Collins could scarcely think exhaustible, and
which he did not live to exhaust. The guineas were then
repaid; and the translation neglected. But man is not
born for happiness: Collins, who, while he studied to live,
felt no evil but poverty, no sooner lived to study, than his
life was assailed by more dreadful calamities, disease and
insanity.“Dr. Johnson’s character of him, while it was distinctly
impressed upon that excellent writer’s memory, is here at
large inserted:
” Mr. Collins was a man of extensive literature, and of vigorous faculties. He was acquainted,
not only with the learned tongues, but with the Italian,
French, and Spanish languages. He had employed his
mind chiefly upon works of fiction, and subjects of fancy;
and by indulging some peculiar habits of thought, was
eminently delighted with those flights of imagination which
pass the bounds of nature, and to which the mind is reconciled only by a passive acquiescence in popular traditions. He loved fairies, genii, giants, and monsters;
he delighted to rove through the meanders of enchantment, to gaze on the magnificence of golden palaces, to
repose by the water-falls of Elysian gardens. This was,
however, the character rather of his inclination than his
genius; the grandeur of wildness, and the novelty of extravagance, were always desired by him, but were not
always attained. Yet as diligence is never wholly lost; if
his efforts sometimes caused harshness and obscurity, they
likewise produced in happier moments sublimity and splendour. This idea which he had formed of excellence, led
him to Oriental fictions and allegorical imagery; and,
perhaps, while he was intent upon description, he did not
sufficiently cultivate sentiment. His poems are the productions of a mind not deficient in fire, nor unfurnished
with knowledge either of books or life, but somewhat obstructed in its progress by deviation in quest of mistaken
beauties. His morals were pure, and his opinions pious:
in a long continuance of poverty, and long habits of dissipation, it cannot be expected that any character should
be exactly uniform. There is a degree of want by which
the freedom of agency is almost destroyed; and long association with fortuitous companions will at last relax the
strictness of truth, and abate the fervour of sincerity.
That this man, wise and virtuous as he was, passed always
linen tangled through the snares of life, it would be prejudice and temerity to affirm; but it may be said that at
least he preserved the source of action unpolluted, that
his principles were never shaken, that his distinctions of
right and wrong were never confounded, and that his faults
had nothing of malignity or design, but proceeded from
some unexpected pressure, or casual temptation. The
latter part of his life cannot be remembered but with pity
and sadness. He languished some years under that depression of mind which enchains the faculties without destroying them, and leaves reason the knowledge of right
without the power of pursuing it. These clouds which
he perceived gathering on his intellects, he endeavoured
to disperse by travel, and passed into France; but found
himself constrained to yield to his malady, and returned.
He was for some time confined in a house of lunatics, and
afterwards retired to the care of his sister in Chichester ,
where death, in 1756, came to his relief. After his return
from France, the writer of this character paid him a visit
at Islington, where he was waiting for his- sister, whom
he had directed to meet him there was then nothing of
disorder discernible in his mind by any but himself; but
he had withdrawn from study, and travelled with no other
book than an English Testament, such as children carry
to the school: when his friend took it into his hand out
of curiosity, to see what companion a man of letters had
chosen: ‘ I have but one book,’ says Collins, ‘ but that
is the best.’ Such was the fate of Collins, with whom I
once delighted to converse, and whom I yet remember with
tenderness. He was visited at Chichester in his last illness
by his learned friends Dr. Warton and his brother; to whom
he spoke with disapprobation of his t Oriental Eclogues,‘
as not sufficiently expressive of Asiatic manners, and called
them his ’ Irish Eclogues.‘ He shewed them, at the
same time, an ode inscribed to Mr. John Hume, ’ On
the Superstitions of the Highlands;' which they thought
superior to his other works, but which no search has
yet found. His disorder was not alienation of mind, but
general laxity and feebleness, a deficiency rather of his
vital than intellectual powers. What he spoke wanted neither judgment nor spirit; but a few minutes exhausted him,
so that he was forced to rest upon the couch, till a short cessation restored his powers, and he was again able to talk with
his former vigour. The approaches of this dreadful malady
he began to feel soon after his uncle’s death; and with
the usual weakness of men so diseased, eagerly snatched
that temporary relief with which the table and the bottle
flatter and seduce. But his health continually declined,
and he grew more and more burthensome to himself.
“To what I have formerly said of his writings may bft
added, that his diction was often harsh, unskilfully laboured,
and injudiciously selected. He alVected the obsolete when
it was not worthy of revival; and he puts his words out of
the common order, seeming to think, with some later candidates for fame, that not to write prose is certainly to
write poetry. His lines commonly are of slow motion,
clogged and impeded with clusters of consonants. As
men are often esteemed who cannot be loved, so the poetry of Collins may sometimes extort praise when it gives
little pleasure .
”
north. Peter and James were the great grandsons of Peter Collinson, who lived on his paternal estate called Hugal-Hall, or Height of Hugal, near Windermere Lake, in the
, was an ingenious botanist, whose family is of ancient standing in the north. Peter and James were the great grandsons of Peter Collinson, who lived on his paternal estate called Hugal-Hall, or Height of Hugal, near Windermere Lake, in the parish of Stavely, about ten miles from Kendal in Westmoreland. Peter, who vvus born Jan. 14, 1693-4, whilst a youth, discovered his attachment to natural history. He began early to make a collection of dried specimens of plants; had access to the best gardens at that time in the neighbourhood of London; and became early acquainted with the most eminent naturalists of his time; the doctors Derham, Woodward, Dale, Lloyd, and Sloane, were amongst his friends. Among the great variety of articles which form, that superb collection, now (by the wise disposition of sir Hans Sloane and the munificence of parliament) the British Museum, small was the number of those with whose history Collinson was not well acquainted, he being one of those few who visited sir Hans at all times familiarly; their inclinations and pursuits in respect to natural history being the same, a firm friendship had early been established between, them. Peter Collinson was elected F. R. S. Dec. 12, 1728 and perhaps was one of the most diligent and useful members, not only in supplying them with many curious observations, but in promoting and preserving a most extensive correspondence with learned and ingenious foreigners, in all countries, and on every useful subject. Besides his attention to natural history, he minuted every striking hint that occurred either in reading or conversation; and from this source he derived much information, as there were very few men of learning and ingenuity, who were not of his acquaintance at home; and most foreigners of eminence in natural history, or in arts and sciences, were recommended to his notice and friendship. His diligence and economy of time was such, that though he never appeared to be in a hurry, he maintained an extensive correspondence with great punctuality; acquainting the learned and ingenious in distant parts of the globe, with the discoveries and improvements in natural history in this country, and receiving the like information from the most eminent persons in almost every other. His correspondence with the ingenious Cadwallader Golden, esq, of NewYork, and the celebrated Dr. Franklin of Philadelphia, furnish instances of the benefit resulting from his attention to all improvements. The latter of these gentlemen communicated his first essays on electricity to Collinson, in a series of letters, which were then published, and have been reprinted in a late edition of the doctor’s works. Perhaps, at the present period, the account procured of the management of sheep in Spain, published in the Gentleman’s Magazine for May and June 1764, may not be considered among the least of the benefits accruing from his extensive and inquisitive correspondence. His conversation, cheerful and usefully entertaining, rendered his acquaintance much desired by those who had a relish for natural history, or were studious in cultivating rural improvements; and secured him the intimate friendship of some of the most eminent personages in this kingdom, as distinguished by their taste in planting and horticulture, as by their rank and dignity. He was the first who introduced the great variety of trees and shrubs, which are now the principal ornaments of every garden; and it was owing to his indefatigable industry, that so many persons of the first distinction are now enabled to behold groves transplanted from the Western continent flourishing so luxuriantly in their several domains, as if they were already become indigenous to Britain. He had some correspondents in almost every nation in Europe; some in Asia, and even at Pekin, who all transmitted to him the most valuable seeds they could collect, in return for the treasures of America. Linnæus, during his residence in England, contraded an intimate friendship with Mr. Collinson, which was reciprocally increased by a multitude of good offices, and continued to the last. Besides his attachment to natural history, he was very conversant in the antiquities of our own country, having been elected F. S. A. April 7, 1737; and he supplied the society with many curious articles of intelligence, and observations respecting both our own and other countries. In the midst of all these engagements, he was a mercer by trade, and lived at the Red Lion, in Gracechurch-street. His person was rather short than tall; he had a pleasing and social aspect; of a temper open and communicative, capable of feeling for distress, and ready to relieve and sympathize. Excepting some attacks of the gout, he enjoyed, in general, perfect health and great equality of spirits, and had arrived at his 75th year; when, being on a visit to lord Petre, for whom he had a singular regard, he was seized with a total suppression of urine, which, baffling every attempt to relieve it, proved fatal Aug. 11, 1768. Mr. Collinson left behind him many materials for the improvement of natural history; and the present refined taste of horticulture may in some respects be attributed to his industry and abilities. He married, in 1724, Mary, the daughter of Michael Russell, esq. of Mill Hill, with whom he lived very happily till her death, in 1753. He left issue a son, named Michael, who resided at Mill Hill, and died Aug. 11, 1795, whose son is still living; and a daughter, Mary, married to the late John Cator, esq. of Beckenham, in Kent. Both his children inherited much of the taste and amiable disposition of their father.
al bias in favour of young Colman. He was entered of the society of Lincoln’s-inn, and in due season called to the bar. He attended there a very short time, though, from
It was during his residence at Oxford that he engaged
with his friend Bonnel Thornton, in publishing the “Connoisseur,
” a periodical paper, which appeared once a
week, and was continued from January 31, 1754, to September 30, 1756. When the age of the writers of this
entertaining miscellany is considered, the wit and humour,
the spirit, the good sense, and shrewd observations on life
and manners, with which it abounds, will excite some degree of wonder, but will, at the same time, evidently point
out the extraordinary talents which were afterwards to be
more fully displayed in the “Jealous Wife
” and tfee
“Clandestine Marriage.
”
When he came to London, the recommendation of his
friends, or his choice, but probably the former, induced
him to fix upon the law for his profession, and he was received with great kindness by lord Bath, who seemed to
mark him for the object of his patronage: a circumstance
that gave rise to the suspicion that his lordship had a natural bias in favour of young Colman. He was entered of
the society of Lincoln’s-inn, and in due season called to
the bar. He attended there a very short time, though,
from the frequency of his attendance on the courts, we
must conclude that it was not for want of encouragement
that he abandoned the profession. It is reasonable to suppose that he felt more pleasure in attending to the muse
than to briefs and reports; and it will therefore excite no
surprise, that he took the earliest opportunity of relinquishing pursuits not congenial to his taste. “Apollo and
Littleton,
” says Wycherley, “seldom meet in the same
brain.
” At this period Lloyd addressed to him a very
pleasant poem on the importance of his profession, and
the seducements to which he was liable, on account of his
attachment to the sisters of Helicon. His first poetical
performance is a copy of verses addressed to his cousin
lord Pulteney, written in the year 1747, while he was yet
at Westminster, and published in the St. James’s Magazine, a work conducted by his unfortunate friend Robert
Lloyd; in conjunction with whom he wrote the best parodies of modern times, the “Odes to Oblivion and Obscurity.
” In Polly Honeycomb,
” was acted at Drury-lane with great success; and
next year he was one of three different candidates for public favour in the higher branch of the drama; viz. Mr.
Murphy, who exhibited the “Way to keep him;
” Mr.
Macklin, the “Married Libertine
” and Mr. Colman,
“The Jealous Wife.
” The former and latter of these
were successful, and Colman in a very high degree.
About the same time the newspaper entitled “The St.
James’s Chronicle
” was established; of which he became
a proprietor, and exerted the full force of his prosaic
talents to promote its interest, in a series of essays and
humourous sketches on occasional subjects. Among these
he opened a paper called “The Genius,
” which he published at irregular intervals as far as the fifteenth number.
These papers appear, upon the whole, to be superior to
the general merit of the Connoisseurs they haye rather
more solidity, and the humour is more chaste and classical,
His occasional contributions to the St. James’s Chronicle
were very numerous, and upon every topic of the day,
politics, manners, the drama, &c. A selection from them
appears in his prose works, published by himself in 1787.
the Picts, and his people, the island of Hij, or Hy, one of the Western Isles, which was afterwards called from him Icolmkill, and became the famous burial-place of the
, renowned in Scotch history as the
founder of a monastery at Icolmkill, and the chief agent
in converting the northern Picts, was a native of Ireland,
where he was a priest and abbot, and is supposed to have
been born at Gartan, in the county of Tyrconnel, in 521.
From thence, about the year 565, he arrived in Scotland,
and received from Bridius, the son of Meilochon, the then
reigning king of the Picts, and his people, the island of
Hij, or Hy, one of the Western Isles, which was afterwards called from him Icolmkill, and became the famous
burial-place of the kings of Scotland. There he built a
monastery, of which he was the abbot, and which for several ages continued to be the chief seminary of North
Britain. Columba acquired here such influence, that neither king or people did any thing without his consent. Here
he died June 9, 597, and his body was buried on the
island; but, according to some Irish writers, was afterwards removed to Down in Ulster, and laid in the same
vault with the remains of St. Patrick and St. Bridgit. From
this monastery at iona, of which some remains may yet be
traced, and another, which he had before founded in Ireland, sprang many other monasteries, and a great many
eminent men; but such are the ravages of time and the
revolutions of society, that this island, which was once
“the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage
clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge, and the blessings of religion,
” had, when Dr,
Johnson visited it in no school for education, nor
temple for worship, only two inhabitants that could speak
English, and not one that could write or read.
”
clesiastical state; and founded a library, which he bequeathed to the church of Seville, to this day called the Columbine Library. He died in 1560.
Justinianus, in his curious edition of the Polyglot Psalter, 1516, of which a beautiful copy is preserved in the
Cracherode collection, in the British Museum, has introduced, by way of commentary on Ps. xix. 4, “their words
are gone forth to the ends of the earth,
” a very curious
sketch of the life of Columbus, an account of his discovery
of America, and also a description of the inhabitants, particularly of the female native Americans. But before the
Header can completely allow the praise of original discovery to Columbus, it will be necessary to peruse with atour article of Martin Behem, where his claims are
powerfully controverted. Don Ferdinand Columbus, the
son of Christopher, and writer of his life, entered into the
ecclesiastical state; and founded a library, which he bequeathed to the church of Seville, to this day called the
Columbine Library. He died in 1560.
recentor was not slow in promoting this spirit; and, when the prince and princess of Orange had been called to the throne, he vindicated the legality of the new government
Some inferior preferments, obtained by Dr. Comber, were followed (in 16S3) by a grant of the dignity of precentor of York. He was in this situation when a series of imprudent and arbitrary measures roused that national spirit which drove James II. from his throne. The precentor was not slow in promoting this spirit; and, when the prince and princess of Orange had been called to the throne, he vindicated the legality of the new government against the calumnies of the Tory party. His patriotic exertions were not unrewarded; for he was promoted in 1691 to the valuable deanry of Durham, partly by the interest of archbishop Tillotson, but was not a little affected in owing the vacancy to the deprivation of his friend Dr. Dennis Grenville, a nonjuror. He would probably have been at length advanced to the episcopal dignity, had not a consumption put an end to his life in 1699, before he had completed his fifty-fifth year.
fair an opportunity of doing it as any man of his condition in France. He died in a house of his own called Argenton, Oct. 17, 1509; and his body, being carried to Paris,
, or Commines, Lat. Cominæus (Philip de), an excellent French historian, was born of a noble
family in Flanders, 1446. He was a man of great abilities,
which, added to his illustrious birth, soon recommended
him to the notice of Charles the Bold, duke of Burgundy,
with whom he lived in intimacy for about eight years. He
was afterwards 'invited to the court of France by Louis XI.
and became a man of consequence, not only from the
countenance which was given him by the monarch, but
from other great connections also, which he formed by marrying into a noble family. Louis made him his chamberlain, and seneschal or chief magistrate of the province of
Poictou. He also employed him in several negotiations,
which he executed in a satisfactory manner, and enjoyed
the high favour of his prince. But after the death of
Louis, when his successor Charles VIII. came to the throne,
the envy of his adversaries prevailed so far, that he was
imprisoned at Loches, in the county of Berry, and treated
with great severity; but by the application of his wife, he
was removed at length to Paris. After some time he was
convened before the parliament, in which he pleaded his
own cause with such effect, that, after a speech of two
hours, he was discharged. In this harangue he insisted
much upon what he had done both for the king and kingdom, and the favour and bounty of his master Louis XI.
He remonstrated to them, that he had done nothing either
through avarice or ambition; and that if his designs had
been only to have enriched himself, he had as fair an opportunity of doing it as any man of his condition in France.
He died in a house of his own called Argenton, Oct.
17, 1509; and his body, being carried to Paris, was interred in the church belonging to the Augustines, in a
chapel which he had built for himself. In his prosperity
he had the following saying frequently in his mouth: “He
that will not work, let him not eat:
” in his adversity he
used to say, “I committed myself to the sea, and am
overwhelmed in a storm.
”
Colchester, where he was so ni'ich taken notice of for his admirable behaviour, that Oliver Cromwell called him the sober young man, and the godly cavalier. At the restoration
, only son of William, first earl
of Northampton, by Elizabeth, sole daughter and heiress
of sir John Spencer, alderman of London, was born in 1601.
He was made knight of the bath in 1616, when Charles,
duke of York (afterwards Charles I.) was created prince of
Wales; with whom he became a great favourite. In 1622
he accompanied him into Spain, in quality of master of his
robes and wardrobe; and had the honour to deliver all his
presents, which amounted, according to computation, to
64,000l. At the coronation of that prince he attended as
master of the robes; and in 1639, waited on his majesty
in his expedition against the Scots. He was likewise one
of those noblemen, who, in May 1641, resolved to defend
the protestant religion, expressed in the doctrine of the
church of England, and his majesty’s royal person, honour,
and estate as also the power and privilege of parliaments,
and the lawful rights and liberties of the subject. In 1642
he waited upon his majesty at York, and after the king set
up his standard at Nottingham, was one of the first who
appeared in arms for him. He did him signal services,
supporting his cause with great zeal in the counties of
Warwick, Stafford, and Northamptom. He was killed,
March 19, 1643, in a battle fought on Hopton-heath, near
Stafford; in which, though the enemy was routed, and
much of their artillery taken, yet his lordship’s horse being
unfortunately shot under him, he was somehow left en“compassed by them. When he was on his feet, he killed
with his own hand the colonel of foot, who first came up to
him; notwithstanding which, after his head-piece was struck
off with the butt-end of a musquet, they offered him quarter, which he refused, saying,
” that he scorned to accept
quarter from such base rogues and rebels as they were:“on this he was killed by a blow with an halbert on the
hinder part of his head, receiving at the same time another
deep wound in his face. The enemy refused to deliver up
his body to the young earl of Northampton, unless he
would return, in exchange for it, all the ammunition, prisoners, and cannon he had taken in the late battle: but
at last it was delivered, and buried in Allhallows church in
Derby, in the same vault with his relation the old countess of Shrewsbury. His lordship married Mary, daughter
of sir Francis Beaumont, knt. by whom he had six sons
and two daughters. The sons are all said to have inherited
their father’s courage, loyalty, and virtue particularly
sir William, the third son, who had the command of a regiment, and performed considerable service at the taking of
Banbury, leading his men on to three attacks, during
which he had two horses shot under him. Upon the surrender of the town and castle, he was made lieutenantgovernor under his father; and on the 19th of July, 1644,
when the parliament’s forces came before the town, he returned answer to their summons;
” That he kept the castle
for his majesty, and as long as one man was left alive in it,
willed them not to expect to have it delivered:“also on
the 16th of September, they sending him another summons, he made answer,
” That he had formerly answered
them, and wondered they should send again." He was
so vigilant in his station, that he countermined the enemy
eleven times, and during the siege, which held thirteen
weeks, never went into bed, but by his example so animated the garrison, that though they had but two horses
left uneaten, they would never suffer a summons to be
sent to them, after the preceding answer was delivered.
At length, his brother the earl of Northampton raised the
siege on the 26th of October, the very day of the month,
on which both town and castle had been surrendered to the
king two years before. Sir William continued governor
of Banbury, and performed many signal services for the
king, till his majesty left Oxford, and the whole kingdom
was submitting to the parliament; and then, on the 8th of
May, 1646, surrendered upon honourable terms. In
1648, he was major-general of the king’s forces at Colchester, where he was so ni'ich taken notice of for his admirable behaviour, that Oliver Cromwell called him the sober
young man, and the godly cavalier. At the restoration of
king Charles II. he was made one of the privy-council,
and master-general of the ordnance; and died October 19,
16h3, in the 39th year of his age. There is an epitaph
to his memory in the church of Compton- Winyate. Henry,
the sixth and youngest, who was afterwards bishop of London, is the subject of the next article.
er.” But the ecclesiastical commissioners would not upon any account suffer their jurisdiction to be called in question; and therefore, in spite of all that his lordship
King Charles now caused him to be sworn one of his
privy council; and committed to his care the educating
of his two nieces, the princesses Mary and Anne, which
important trust he. discharged to the nation’s satisfaction.
They were both confirmed by him upon January 23>
1676; and it is somewhat remarkable that they were
both likewise married by him: the eldest, Mary, with
William prince of Orange, November 4, 1677; the
youngest, Anne, with George prince of Denmark, July 28,
1683. The attachment of these two princesses to the
protestant religion was owing, in a great measure, to their tutor Compton; which afterwards, when popery came to prevail at the court of England, was imputed to him as an unpardonable crime. In the mean time he indulged the
hopeless project of bringing dissenters to a sense of
the necessity of an union among protestants; to promote which, he held several conferences with his own
clergy, the substance of which he published in July 16SO.
He further hoped, that dissenters might be the more easily
reconciled to the church, if the judgment of foreign divines should be produced against their needless separation:
and for that purpose he wrote to M. le Moyne, professor
ef divinity at Leyden, to M. de PAngle, one of the
preachers of the protestant church at Charenton near Paris, and to M. Claude, another eminent French divine.
Their answers are published at the end of bishop Stillingfleet’s “Unreasonableness of Separation,
” requiring and commanding him forthwith to suspend Dr. Sharp from further
preaching in any parish church or chapel within his diocese, until he had given the king satisfaction.
” In order
to understand how Sharp had offended the king, it must
be remembered, that king James had caused the directions
concerning preachers, published in 1662, to be now reprinted; and reinforced them by a letter directed to the
archbishops of Canterbury and York, given at Whitehall,
March 5, 1686, to prohibit the preaching upon controversial points; that was, in effect, to forbid the preaching
against popery, which Sharp had done. The bishop refusing to suspend Dr. Sharp, because, as he truly alleged,
he could not do it according to law, was cited to appear,
August y, before the new ecclesiastical commission: when
he was charged with not having observed his majesty’s
command in the case of Sharp, whom he was ordered to
suspend. The bishop, after expressing some surprise,
humbly begged a copy of the commission, and a copy of
his charge; but was answered by chancellor Jefferies,
“That he should neither have a copy of, nor see, the commission neither would they give him a copy of the
charge.
” His lordship then desired time to advise with
counsel; and time was given him to the 16th, and afterwards to the 3 1st of August. Then his lordship offered his
plea to their jurisdiction: which being overruled, he protested to his right in that or any other plea that might be
made for his advantage; and observed, “that as a bishop
he had a right, by the most authentic and universal ecclesiastical laws, to be tried before his metropolitan, precedently to any other court whatsoever.
” But the ecclesiastical commissioners would not upon any account suffer
their jurisdiction to be called in question; and therefore,
in spite of all that his lordship or his counsel could allege,
he was suspended on Sept. 6 following, for his disobedience, from the function and execution of his episcopal
office, and from all episcopal and other ecclesiastical jurisdiction, during his majesty’s pleasure; and the bishops of
Durham, Rochester, and Peterborough, were appointed
commissioners to exercise ecclesiastical jurisdiction within,
the diocese of London. But the court did not think fit to
meddle with his revenues. For the lawyers had settled
that benefices were of the nature of freeholds; therefore, if
the sentence had gone to the temporalities, the bishop
would have had the matter tried over again in the king’s
bench, where he was likely to find justice.
to a party.” This however must seem extraordinary to those who consider, that those who are usually called high churchmen have spoken very coolly of him ever since, on
* We learn from Mr. Ray and Plu- fore in England. This repository was
kenet, that he jwined to his taste for ever open to the inspection of the cugardening, a real and scientific know- rious and scientific and we find Ray,
led^e of plants; an attainment not Petiver, and Plukenet, in numerous
usual among the great in those days, instances, acknowledging the assistHe collected a greater variety of green- ance they received from the free cornhouse rarities, and planted a greater munication of rare and new plants out
variety of hardy exotic trees and shrubs, of the garden at FulUam. Pulteaey'5
than had been seen in any garden be* Sketches.
At his return to London, he discovered his zeal for the
revolution, and first set his hand to the association begun
at Exeter. He waited on the prince of Orange, Dec. 21,
at the head of his clergy; and, in their names and his own,
thanked his highness fur his very great and hazardous undertaking for their deliverance, and the preservation of
the protcstant religion, with the anc; ent laws and liberties
of this nation. He gave his royal highness the sacrament,
Dec. 30; and upon Jan. 29 following, when the house of
lords, in a grand committee, debated the important question, “Whether the throne, being vacant, ou^ht to be
filled by a regent or a king?
” Compton was one of the
two bisiiops, sir Jonathan Trelawny bishop of Bristol being
the other, who made the majority for filling up the throne
by a king. On February 14, he was again appointed of
the privy-council, and made dean of the royal chapel;
from both which places king James had removed him: and
was afterwards chosen by king William, to perform the
ceremony of his and queen Mary’s coronation, upon April
11, 1689. The same year he was constituted one of the
commissioners for revising the liturgy, in which he laboured with much zeal to reconcile the dissenters to the
church; and also in the convocation, that met Nov. 21,
1689, of which he was president. But the intended comprehension met with insuperable difficulties, the majority
of the lower house being resolved not to enter into any
terms of accommodation with the dissenters; and his lordship’s not complying so far as the dissenters liked, is supposed to have been the reason of Burnet’s calling him
“a weak man, wilful, and strangely wedded to a party.
”
This however must seem extraordinary to those who consider, that those who are usually called high churchmen
have spoken very coolly of him ever since, on that very
account: and that even his opposing, as he did, the prosecution against Sacheverell in 1710, declaring him not
guilty, and also protesting against several steps taken in
that affair, has not been sufficient to reconcile them to his
complying so far with the dissenters as he did. The fact
appears to have been that the bishop endeavoured to act
with moderation, for which no allowance is made in times
of violent party- spirit.
at danger of being driven out of all public employment again, by the parliament’s enjoining what was called* the engagement, which he did not take within the time prescribed.
In a very short time, however, after being thus settled,
he was in great danger of being driven out of all public
employment again, by the parliament’s enjoining what was
called* the engagement, which he did not take within the
time prescribed. He had a fortnight given him to consider
further of it; at the end of which he submitted, but under
a declaration, subscribed at the same time with the engagement, which in fact enervated that instrument entirely.
The terms of the engagement were; “You shall promise to
be true and faithful to the commonwealth of England, as
it is now established without king or house of lords.
” Cojiant’s declaration before the commissioners, when he took
the engagement, was in this form and manner: “Being
required to subscribe, I humbly premise, first, that I be
not hereby understood to approve of what hath been done
in.- order unto, or under this present government, or the
government itself nor will I be thought to condemn it;
they being things above my reach, and I not knowing the
grounds of the proceedings. Secondly, that I do not bind
myself to do any thing contrary to the word of God.
Thirdly, that I do not so hereby bind myself, but that, if
God shall remarkably call me to submit to any other
power, I may be at liberty to obey that call, not
withstanding the present engagement. Fourthly, in this sense, and
in this sense only, I do promise to be true and faithful to
the present government, as it is now established without
king or house of lords.
”
aryland. Concanen was for some time concerned in the “British” and “London Journals,” and in a paper called “The Specnlatist,” which last was published in 1730, 8vo. In
, a miscellaneous writer of
some note in his day, was born in Ireland, and bred to the
law, in which we do not find that he ever made any great
figure. From thence he came over to London, in company with a Mr. Stirling, a dramatic poet of little note, to
seek his fortune; and finding nothing so profitable, and
so likely to recommend him to public notice, as political
writing, he soon commenced an advocate for the government. There goes a story of him, however, but we will
hope it is not a true one, that he and his fellow-traveller,
who was embarked in the same adventure, for the sake of
making their trade more profitable, resolved to divide their
interests; the one to oppose, the other to defend the ministry. Upon which they determined the side each was to
espouse by lots, or, according to Mr. Reed’s account, by
tossing up a halfpenny, when it fell to Concanen’s part to
defend the ministry. Stirling afterwards went into orders,
and became a clergyman in Maryland. Concanen was for
some time concerned in the “British
” and “London
Journals,
” and in a paper called “The Specnlatist,
” which
last was published in A
Supplement to the Profound,
” he dealt very unfairly by
Pope, as Pope’s commentator informs us, in not only frequently imputing to him Broome’s verses (for which, says he, he might seem in some degree accountable, having corrected what that gentleman did), but those of the duke
of Buckingham and others. His wit and literary abilities,
however, recommended him to the favour of the duke of
Newcastle, through whose interest he obtained the post of
attorney-general of the island of Jamaica in 1732, which
office he filled with the utmost integrity and honour, and
to the perfect satisfaction of the inhabitants, for near
seventeen years; when, having acquired an ample fortune,
he was desirous of passing the close of his life in his native
country; with which intention he quitted Jamaica and
came to London, proposing to pass some little time there
before he went to settle entirely in Ireland. But the difference of climate between that metropolis and the place
he had so long been accustomed to, had such an effect
on his constitution, that he fell into a consumption, of
which he died Jan. 22, 1749, a few weeks after his arrival
in London. His original poems, though short, have considerable merit; but much cannot be said of his play, entitled “Wexford Wells.
” He was also concerned with Mr.
Roome and other gentlemen in altering Richard Broome’s
“Jovial Crew
” into a ballad opera, in which shape it is
now frequently performed. Concanen has several songs in
“The Musical Miscellany, 1729,
” 6 vols. But a memofable letter addressed to him by Dr. Warburton will perhaps be remembered longer than any writing of his own
pen. This letter^ which Mr. Malone first published (in his Supplement to Shakspeare, vol. I. p. 222), shews that, in
1726, Warbtirton, then an attorney at Newark, was intimate with Concanen, and an associate in the attacks made
on Pope’s fame and talents. In 1724, Concanen published
3, volume of “Miscellaneous Poems, original and translated,
” by himself and others.
At the age of nineteen he took a wife, who brought him a son, called Pe yu. This son died at fifty, but left behind him a son called
At the age of nineteen he took a wife, who brought him a son, called Pe yu. This son died at fifty, but left behind him a son called Tsou-tse, who, in imitation of his grandfather, applied himself entirely to the study of wisdom, and by his merit arrived to the highest offices of the empire. Confucius was content with his wife only, so long as she lived with him; and never kept any concubines, as the custom of his country would have allowed him to have done, because he thought it contrary to the law of nature. He divorced her, however, after some time, and for no other reason, say the Chinese,' but that he might be free from all incumbrances and connexions, and at liberty to propagate his philosophy throughout the empire. In his twenty-third year, when he had gained a considerable knowledge of antiquity, and acquainted himself with the laws and customs of his country, he began to project a scheme of general reformation. All the petty kingdoms of the empire now depend upon the emperor; but then every province was a distinct kingdom, which had its particular laws, and was governed by a prince of its own. Hence it often happened that the imperial authority was not sufficient to keep them within the bounds of their duty and allegiance, and a taste for luxury, the love of pleasure, and a general dissolution of manners, prevailed in all those little courts.
rt, his gravity and sobriety, his rigorous abstinence, his contempt of riches, and what are commonly called the goods of this life, his continual attention and watchfulness
He sent 600 of his disciples into different parts of the
empire, to reform the manners of the people; and, not
satisfied with, benefiting his own country only, he made
frequent resolutions to pass the seas, and propagate his
doctrine to the farthest parts of the world. Hardly any
thing can be added to the purity of his morality. He
seems rather to speak like a doctor of a revealed law, than
a man who had no light but what the law of nature afforded
him, and he taught as forcibly by example as by precept.
In short, his gravity and sobriety, his rigorous abstinence,
his contempt of riches, and what are commonly called the
goods of this life, his continual attention and watchfulness
pver his actions, and, above all, that modesty and humility
which are npt to be found among the Grecian sages; all
these would almost tempt one to believe that he wa.s not a
mere philosopher formed by reason only, but a man raised
up for the reformation of the world, and to check that torrent of idolatry and superstition which was about to overspread that particular part of it. He is said to have lived
secretly three years, and to have spent the latter part of
his life in sorrow. A few days before his last illness, he
told his disciples with tears in his eyes, that he was overcome with grief at the sight of the disorders which prevailed in the empire: “The mountain,
” said he, “is fallen, the high machine is demolished, and the sages are all
fled/' His meaning was, that the edifice of perfection,
which he had endeavoured to raise, was entirely overthrown. He began to languish from that time; and the
7th day before his death,
” the kings,“said he,
” reject
my maxims; and since I am no longer useful on the earth,
I may as well leave it.“After these words he fell into a
lethargy, and at the end of seven days expired in the arms
of his disciples, in his seventy-third year. Upon the first
hearing of his death, Ngai cong, who then reigned in the
kingdom of Lou, could not refrain from tears:
” The Tien
is not satisfied with me,“cried he,
” since it has taken
away Confucius.“Confucius was lamented by the whole
empire, which from that moment began to honour him as
a saint. Kings have built palaces for him in all the provinces, whither the learned go at certain times to pay him
homage. There are to be seen upon several edifices,
raised in honour of him, inscriptions in large characters,
” To the great master.“” To the head doctor.“” To
the saint.“” To the teacher of emperors and kings."
They built his sepulchre near the 'city Kio fou, on the
banks of the river Su, where he was wont to assemble his
disciples; and they have since inclosed it with walls, which
look like a small city to this very day.
fect rule of government. The number of these classical and canonical books, for so it seems they are called, is four. The first is entitled “Ta Hio, the Grand Science,
Confucius did not trust altogether to the memory of his
disciples for the preservation of his philosophy; but composed several books: and though these books were greatly
admired for the doctrines they contained, and the fine
principles of morality they taught, yet such was the unparalleled modesty of this philosopher, that he ingenuously
ponfessed, that the doctrine was not his own, but was much
more ancient; and that he had done nothing more than
collect it from those wise legislators Yao and Chun, who
lived 1500 years before him. These books are held in the
liighest esteem and veneration, because they contain all
that he had collected relating to the ancient laws, which
are looked upon as the most perfect rule of government.
The number of these classical and canonical books, for so
it seems they are called, is four. The first is entitled “Ta
Hio, the Grand Science, or the School of the Adults.
” It
is this that beginners ought to study first, as the porch of
the temple of wisdom and virtue. It treats of the care we
ought to take in governing ourselves, that we may be able
afterwards to govern others: and of perseverance in the
chief good, which, according to him, is nothing but a conformity of our actions to right reason. It was chiefly designed for princes and grandees, who ought to govern their
people wisely. “The whole science of princes,
” says
Confucius, “consists in cultivating and perfecting the reasonable nature they have received from Tien, and in restoring that light and primitive clearness of judgment,
which has been weakened and obscured by various passions,
that it may be afterwards in a capacity to labour the perfections of others. To succeed then,
” says he, “we should
begin within ourselves; and to this end it is necessary to
have an insight into the nature of things, and to gain the
knowledge of good and evil; to determine the will toward
a love of this good, and an hatred of this evil: to preserve
integrity of heart, and to regulate the manners according
to reason. When a man has thus renewed himself, there
will be less difficulty in renewing others: and by this means
concord and union reign in families, kingdoms are governed according to the laws, and the whole empire enjoys
peace and tranquillity.
”
The second classical or canonical book is called “Tchong Yong, or the Immutable Mean;” and treats of the mean
The second classical or canonical book is called “Tchong
Yong, or the Immutable Mean;
” and treats of the mean
which ought to be observed in all things. Tchong signifies meanS) and by Yong is understood that which is constant, eternal, immutable. He undertakes to prove, that
every wise man, and chiefly those who have the care of
governing the world, should follow this mean, which is the
essence of virtue. He enters upon his subject by defining
human nature, and its passions; then he brings several
examples of virtue and piety, as fortitude, prudence, and
filial duty, which are proposed as so many patterns to be
imitated in keeping this mean. In the next place he shews,
that this mean, and the practice of it, is the right and true
path which a wise man should pursue, in order to attain
the highest pitch of virtue. The third book, “Yun Lu, or
the Book of Maxims,
” is a collection of sententious and
moral discourses, and is divided into 20 articles, containing only questions, answers, and sayings of Confucius and
his disciples, On virtue, good works, and the art of
governing well; the tenth article excepted, in which the disciples of Confucius particularly describe the outward deportment of their master. There are some maxims and moral
sentences in this collection, equal to those of the seven
wise men of Greece, which have always been so much admired. The fourth book gives an idea of a perfect government it is called “Meng Tsee, or the Book of Mentius;
”
because, though numbered among the classical and canonical books, it is more properly the work of his disciple
Mentius. To these four books they add two others, which
have almost an equal reputation; the first is called “Hiao
King,
” that is, “of Filial Reverence,
” and contains the
answers which Confucius made to his disciple Tseng, concerning the respect which is due to parents. The second
is called “Sias Hio,
” that is, “the Science, or the School
of Children;
” which is a collection of sentences and examples taken from ancient and modern authors. They who
would have a perfect knowledge of all these works, will
find it in the Latin translation of father Noel, one of the
most ancient missionaries of China, which was printed at
Prague in 1711.
Soon after, he applied himself to dramatic composition, and wrote a comedy called “The Old Bachelor;” of which Dryden, to whom he was recommended
Soon after, he applied himself to dramatic composition,
and wrote a comedy called “The Old Bachelor;
” of
which Dryden, to whom he was recommended by Southerne, said, “That he never saw such a first play in his
life; and that it would be a pity to have it miscarry for a
few things, which proceeded not from the author’s want of
genius or art, but from his not being acquainted with the
stage and the town.
” Dryden revised and corrected it;
and it was acted in 1693. The prologue, intended to be
spoken, was written by lord Falkland; the play was admirably performed, and received with such general applause, that Congreve was thenceforward considered as the
prop of the declining stage, and as the rising genius in
dramatic poesy. It was this play, and the very singular
success that attended it upon the stage, and after it came
from the press, which recommended its author to the patronage of lord Halifax: who, being desirous to place so
eminent a wit in a state of ease and tranquillity, made him
immediately one of the commissioners for licensing hacknej'-coaches, which was followed soon after by a place in
the Pipe-office; and the office of a commissioner of wine
licenses, worth 600l. per annum. After such encouragement as the town, and even the critics, had given him, he
quickly made his appearance again on the stage, by bringing on “The Double Dealer;
” but this play, though
highly approved and commended by the best judges, was
not so universally applauded as his last, owing, it is supposed, to the regularity of the performance; for regular
comedy was then a new thing.
was long admired, and for which the king gave him a gratuity of 100l. In 1695 he produced his comedy called “Love for Love,” which gained him much applause; and the same
Queen Mary dying at the close of this year, Congreve
wrote a pastoral on that occasion, entitled “The Mourning Muse of Alexis;
” which, for simplicity, elegance, and
correctness, was long admired, and for which the king
gave him a gratuity of 100l. In 1695 he produced his
comedy called “Love for Love,
” which gained him much
applause; and the same year addressed to king William
an ode “Upon the taking of Namiir;
” which was very
successful. After having established his reputation as a
comic writer, he attempted a tragedy; and, in 1697, his
“Mourning Bride
” was acted at the new theatre in Lincoln' s-inn-fields, which completely answered the very high
expectations of the public and of his friends. His attention, however, was now called off from the theatre to another species of composition, which was wholly new, and in
which he was not so successful. His four plays were attacked with great sharpness by that zealous reformer of
the stage, Jeremy Collier; who, having made his general
attack on the immorality of the stage, included Congreve
among the writers who had largely contributed to that
effect. The consequence of the dispute which arose between Collier and the dramatic writers we have related in
Collier’s article. It may be sufficient in this place to add,
that although this controversy is believed to have created
in Congreve some distaste to the stage, yet he afterwards
brought on another comedy, entitled “The Way of the
World;
” of which it gave so just a picture, that the world
seemed resolved not to bear it. This completed the disgust of our author to the theatre; upon which the celebrated critic Dennis, though not very famous for either,
said with equal wit and taste, “That Mr. Congreve quitted
the stage early, and that comedy left it with him.
” This
play, however, recovered its rank, and is still a favourite
with the town. He amused himself afterwards with composing original poems and translations, which he collected
in a volume, and published in 1710, when Swift describes
him as “never free from the gout,
” and “almost blind,
”
yet amusing himself with writing a “Taller.
”
He had a taste for music as well as poetry; as appears
from his “Hymn to Harmony in honour of St. Cecilia’s
day, 1701,
” set by Mr. John Eccles, his great friend, to
whom he was also obliged for composing several of his
songs. His early acquaintance with the great had procured
him an easy and independent station in life, and this freed
him from all obligations of courting the public favour any
longer. He was still under the tie of gratitude to his illustrious patrons; and as he never missed an opportunity of
paying his compliments to them, so on the other hand he
always shewed great regard to persons of a less exalted
station, who had been serviceable to him on his entrance
into public life. He wrote an epilogue for his old friend
Southerne’s tragedy of Oroonoko; and we learn from Dryden himself, how much he was obliged to his assistance in
the translation of Virgil. He contributed also the eleventh
satire to the translation of “Juvenal,
” published by that
great poet, and wrote some excellent verses on the translation of Persius, written by Dryden alone.
cured the author a mixed reputation. Some admired his ingenuity, but his orthodoxy and religion were called in question by others, as he attempts in this work to account
In 1697 he published his “Evangelium medici: sen
medicina mystica de suspensis naturae legions, sive de miraculis, reliquisque Ev tut j2i?uoi memoratis, quse medicae indagini subjici possunt.
” This little treatise, containing
16 sections only, was reprinted within the year, and procured the author a mixed reputation. Some admired his
ingenuity, but his orthodoxy and religion were called in
question by others, as he attempts in this work to account
for the miracles of the Bible upon natural principles.
xplained the properties of it more clearly, the name of the inventor was forgotten, and it was hence called Archimedes’s volute or spiral. As to Conon’s astrological or
Conon had some disputes with Nicoteles, who wrote against him, and treated him with too much contempt. Apollonius confesses it; though he acknowledges that Colion was not fortunate in his demonstrations. Conon invented a kind of volute, or spiral, different from that of Dynostratus; but because Archimedes explained the properties of it more clearly, the name of the inventor was forgotten, and it was hence called Archimedes’s volute or spiral. As to Conon’s astrological or astronomical knowledge, it may in some measure be gathered from the poem of Catullus, who describes it in the beginning of his. verses on the hair of Berenice, the sister and wife of Ptolomy Euergetes, upon the occasion of Conou having given out that it was changed into a constellation among the stars, to console the queen for the loss, when it was stolen out of the temple, where she had consecrated it to the gods.
, usually called the Great, is memorable for having been the first emperor of
, usually called the Great, is memorable for having been the first emperor of the Romans who
established Christianity by the civil power, and was born
at Naissus, a town of Dardania, 272. The emperor Constantius Chlorus was his father; and was the only one of
those who shared the empire at that time, that did not persecute the Christians. His mother Helena was a woman of
low extraction, and the mistress of Constantius, as some
say; as others, the wife, but never acknowledged publicly:
and it is certain, that she never possessed the title of empress, till it was bestowed on her by her son, after the decease of his father. Constantine was a very promising
youth, and gave many proofs of his conduct and courage
which however began to display themselves more openly a
little before the death of his father; for, being detained at
the court of Galerius as an hostage, and discerning that
Galerius and his colleagues intended to seize upon that
part of the empire which belonged to his father, now near
his end, he made his escape, and went to England, where
Constantius then was. When he arrived there, he found
Constantius upon his death-bed, who nevertheless was glad
to see him, and named him for his successor. Constantius died
at York in 306, and Constantine was immediately proclaimed
emperor by the soldiers. Galerius at first would not allow
him to take any other title than that of Csesar, which did
not hinder him from reigning in England, Gaul, and Spain:
but having gained several victories over the Germans and
Barbarians, he took the title of Augustus in 308, with the
consent of Galerius himself. Some time after, he marched
into Italy, with an army of 40,000 men, against the emperor Muxentius, who had almost made desolate the city
of Rome by his cruelties; and after several successful engagements, finally subdued him. Eusebius relates, that
Constantine had protested to him, that he had seen in that
expedition a luminous body in the heavens, in the shape
of a cross, with this inscription, Tola vixat, “By this thou
shall conquer:
” and that Jesus Christ himself appeared to
him afterwards in a dream, and ordered him to erect a
standard cross-like; which, after his victory, he did in
the midst of the city of Rome, and caused the following
words to be inscribed on it: “By this salutary sign, which
is the emblem of real power, I have delivered your city
from the dominion of tyrants, and have restored the senate
and people of Rome to their ancient dignity and splendour.
” This, which is one of the most striking events in
ecclesiastical history, has also been one of the most contested. Gibbon endeavours to explain it thus: While (says this historian) his anxiety for the approaching day, which
must decide the fate of the empire, was suspended by a short
and interrupted slumber, the venerable form of Christ, and
the well-known symbol of his religion, might forcibly offer
themselves to the active fancy of a prince who reverenced
the name, and had perhaps secretly implored the power of
the God of the Christians; and with regard to the credit
due to Eusebius, be thinks Eusebius sensible, that the recent discovery of this marvellous anecdote would excite
some surprize and distrust amongst the most pious of his
readers. Much has certainly been said against the credibility of this story by authors less prejudiced against the
Christian religion than Gibbon. By some the whole is
regarded as a fiction, a stratagem and political device of
Constantine, yet it is related by Eusebius, a grave historian,
who declares that he had it from the emperor, who
confirmed the narration by an oath. By Fabricius, we are
told, that the appearance in the heavens was generally
looked upon as a reality, and a miracle: but for his own
part, he is inclined to consider it as the result of a natural
phenomenon in a solar halo; he accordingly admits of the
reality of the phenomenon, but does not suppose it to be
properly miraculous. Upon a full and candid review of the
evidence, Dr. Lardner seems inclined to doubt the relation given by the emperor, upon whose sole credit the
story is recorded, though it was twenty years after the
event, when Eusebius wrote his account, during which
period he must have heard it frequently from eye-witnesses,
if the emperor’s relation were accurate that the appearance
was visible to his whole army as well as to himself. The
oath of Constantine, on the occasion, with Dr. Lardner,
brings the fact into suspicion, and another striking circumstance is that Eusebius does not mention the place where
this wonderful sight appeared. Without, however, entering, at present, farther into the discussion, we may observe, that Eusebius has led us to the period, when the
sign of the cross began to be made use of by Constantine,
among his armies, and at his battles; this was probably
the day before the last battle with Maxentius, fought on
the 27th of October, 312. About this period, it is admitted, that Constantine became a Christian, and continued so the remainder of his life, taking care also to have
his children educated in the same principles. His conversion seems to have been partly owing to his own reflections
on the state of things, partly to conversation and discourse
with Christians, with whom, the son of Constantius, their
friend and favourer, must have been some time acquainted,
but perhaps, chiefly to the serious impressions of nis early
years, which being once made can never be wholly obliterated. Constantine was however a politician as well as a
Christian, and he probably hit upon this method to reconcile the minds of his army to the important change in
their religious profession and habits, as well as making use
of it as a mean of success in his designs against his enemies, for which purpose he rightly judged, that the standard of the cross, and the mark of it as a device on his
soldier’s shields, would be of no small service.
ourse. Constantine now applied himself entirely to regulate and adjust the affairs of the church. He called councils, heard disputes and settled them, and made laws in
After Constantine had settled the affairs of Rome, he went to Milan, where he celebrated the marriage of his sister with the emperor of the East, Licinius. In this town it was that these two emperors issued out the first edict in favour of the Christian religion, by which they granted liberty of conscience to all their subjects: and a second soon after, by which they permitted the Christians to hold religious assemblies in public, and ordered all the places, where they had been accustomed to assemble, to be given up to them. A war broke out in 314, between Constantine and Licinius, which subjected the Christians to a persecution from the latter; but after a battle or two, in which neither had any reason to triumph, a peace ensued, and things returned to their usual course. Constantine now applied himself entirely to regulate and adjust the affairs of the church. He called councils, heard disputes and settled them, and made laws in favour of the Christians. In 324, another war broke out between these two emperors; the result of which was, that Constantine at length overcame Licinius, and put him to death. He was now sole master of the empire, without any controul, so that the Christians had every thing to hope, and apparently nothing to fear: nor were they disappointed. But the misfortune was, that the Christians were no sooner secure against the assaults of enemies from without, but they fell to quarrelling among themselves. The dispute between Arius and Alexander was agitated at this time; and so very fiercely, that Constantino was forced to call the council of Nice to put an end to it. He assisted at it himself, exhorted the bishops to peace, and would not hear the accusations they had to offer against each other. He banished Arius and the bishops of his party, ordering at the same time his books to be burnt; and made the rest submit to the decision of the council. He had founded innumerable churches throughout the empire, and ordered them to be furnished and adorned with every thing that was necessary. He went afterwards to Jerusalem, to try if he could discover the sepulchre of Jesus Christ; and caused a most magnificent church to be built at Bethlehem. About this time he gave the name of Constantinople to the town of Byzantium, and endowed it with- all the privileges of ancient Rome. After this he laboured more abundantly than ever he had done yet, in aggrandizing the church, and publishing laws against heretics. He wrote to the king of Persia in favour of the Christians, destroyed the heathen temples, built a great many churches, and caused innumerable copies of the Bible to be made. In short, he did so much for religion, that he might be called the head of the church, in things which concerned its exterior policy. The orthodox Christians have nevertheless complained of him a little for listening to the adversaries of Atbanasius, and consenting, as he did, to banish him: yet he would not suffer Arius or his doctrines to be re-established, but religiously and constantly adhered to the decision of the council of Nice.
th, fellow of Corpus-Christi college, and a scholar of eminence. In the same year, Mr. Conybeare was called upon to preach a visitation sermon before the bishop of Oxford,
, a learned divine and prelate of
the church of England, was born at Pinhoe, near Exeter,
on the 31st of January, 1691-2. His father was the rev.
John Conybeare, vicar of Pinhoe; and his mother, Grace
Wilcocks, was the daughter of a substantial gentleman
farmer of that place. At a proper age, he was sent to the
free-school of Exeter for grammatical education, where
Hallet and Foster, afterwards two eminent dissenting divines, were his contemporaries. On the 23d of February,
1707-8, Mr. Conybeare was admitted a battler of Exeter
college, Oxford, under the tuition of Mr. Thomas Kennel,
afterwards Dr. Kennel, many years rector of Drew’s
Teington, Pevon. Mr. Conybeare, on his coming to the
university, was, according to the language of that place,
chum with Mr. Richard Harding, who was elected fellow of
Exeter college in 1709, and died rector of Marwood in
Devonshire, in 1782, in the ninety-fifth year of his age.
How early our young student obtained the esteem of the
learned society with which he was connected, appears from
his having been chosen on the 30th of June, 1710, and
admitted on the 8th of July following, a probationary fellow of his college, upon sir William Petre’s foundation, in
the room of Mr. Daniel Osborrie. When he was proposed
as a candidate, it was only with the design of recommending him to future notice; but such was the sense entertained of his extraordinary merit, that he was made the
object of immediate election. Mr. Harding used to say, that
Mr. Conybeare had every way the advantage of him, excepting in seniority; and that he should have had no
chance in a competition with him, if they had both been
eligible at the same time. The patronage of Dr. Ilennel,
Mr. Conybeare' s worthy tutor, concurred with his own
desert, in bringing him forward thus early to academical
advantages. On the 17th of July, 1713, he was admitted
to the degree of bachelor of arts; and at the next election
of college officers, upon the 30th of June, 1714, he was
appointed praelector, or moderator, in philosophy. On
the 19th of December following, he received deacon’s
orders from the hanclaof Dr. William Talbot, bishop of
Oxford; and on the 2rikof May, 1716, he was ordained
priest by sir Jonathan Trelawny, bishop of Winchester.
On the 16th of April, 1716, he proceeded to the degree of
master of arts; soon after which he entered upon the curacy of Fetcham, in Surry, where he continued about a
year. He was advised to this change of scene for the
benefit of his health, which was always delicate, and had
been greatly impaired by the intenseness of his application.
Upon his return from Fetcham to Oxford, he became a
tutor in his own college, and was much noticed in the university as a preacher. In the beginning of the year 1722,
he published a sermon, which he had delivered before the
university, on the 24th of December preceding, from
Hebrews ii. 4, entitled “The nature, possibility, and certainty of Miracles, &c.
” This discourse was so well received, that it went through four editions. Mr. Conybeare was hence encouraged to commit to the press a second sermon, from 1 Corinthians xiii. 12, which he had
preached before the university, on the 21st of October,
1724, and the title of which was, “The Mysteries of the
Christian Religion credible.
” It is probable, that the
reputation our author gained by these discourses, recommended him to the notice of the bishop of London (Dr. Gibson), who appointed him one of his majesty’s preachers
at Whitehall, upon the first establishment of that institution. The esteem in which his abilities and character were
held, procured him, also, the favour of the lord chancellor
Macclesfield, who, in May 1724, presented him to the
rectory of St. Clement’s in Oxford; a preferment of no
great value, but which was convenient to iiim from his constant residence at that place, and from its being compatible
with his fellowship. In 1725, he was chosen senior proctor of the university, which office he served in conjunction
with Mr. Barnaby Smyth, fellow of Corpus-Christi college,
and a scholar of eminence. In the same year, Mr. Conybeare was called upon to preach a visitation sermon before
the bishop of Oxford, at whose request it was published,
under the title of “The Case of Subscription to Articles
of Religion considered,
” and obtained no small degree of
celebrity, being referred to in the controversy relating to
subscription. The position of Mr. Conybeare is, that
“every one who subscribes the articles of religion, does
thereby engage, not only not to dispute or contradict
them; but his subscription amounts to an approbation of,
and an assent to, the truth of the doctrines therein contained, in the very sense in which the compilers are supposed to have understood them.
” Mr. Conybeare’s next
publication was an assize sermon, preached at St. Mary’s,
Oxford, in 1727, from Ezra vii. 26, and entitled “The
Penal sanctions of laws considered.
” This discourse was
dedicated by him to the honourable Charles Talbot, at
that time solicitor-general, afterwards lord high chancellor
of Great Britain, who had honoured our author with the
care of his two eldest sons, Mr. Charles Talbot, celebrated
by the poet Thomson, and the late earl Talbot, steward
of his majesty’s household. On the llth of July, 1728,
Mr. Conybeare was admitted to the degree of bachelor of
divinity; and on the 24th of January following, he took
his doctor’s degree. In the year 1729, he again appeared
from the press, in a sermon that had been preached before
the lord mayor and aldermen at St. Paul’s cathedral, and
which was entitled ^The Expediency of a Divine Revelation represented.“It was accompanied with a dedication
to bishop Talbot, father of the solicitor-general. From
Dr. Conybeare’s introduction to this family, and the reputation he had acquired as a divine, it was expected that
he would soon have been promoted to some dignity in the
church. But the good bishop was taken off before he had
a proper opportunity of carrying his benevolent intentions
in our author’s favour into execution. In 1730, the headship of Exeter college becoming vacant, by the death of
Dr. Hole, Dr. Conybeare was chosen to succeed him. His
competitor, on this occasion, was the rev. Mr. Stephens,
vicar of St. Andrew’s, Plymouth, a truly worthy clergyxpan, and the author of several ingenious discourses,
Nevertheless, as he had retired early from the society, he
could not be supposed to carry such weight with him as
Dr. Conybeare, who had resided constantly in the college.
In this year Dr. Tindal’s famous deistical book had appeared, entitled
” Christianity as old as the Creation, or
the Gospel a Republication of the Law of Nature.“This
work excited the greatest attention, and drew forth the
pens of some of the ablest divines of the kingdom, both in
the church of PZngland, and among the protestant dissenters. Bishop Gibson, who had himself engaged in the
controversy in his
” Pastoral Letters,“encouraged Dr.
Conybeare to undertake the task of giving a full and particular answer to Tindal’s production. Accordingly, he
published in 1732, his
” Defence of Revealed Religion,“Londoq, 8vo, by which he gained great credit to himself,
and performed an eminent service to the cause of Christianity. In his dedication to the learned prelate now mentioned, he observes, that if he has not succeeded in his
book according to his wishes, he may plead that it was
drawn up amidst a variety of interruptions, and under a
bad state of health.
” This,“says he,
” will in some sort
excuse the author, though it may detract from the performance.“But Dr. Conybeare’s work did not stand in
need of an apology. It is distinguished by the perspicuity of its method, and the strength of its reasoning; and
is, indeed, one of the ablest vindications of revelation
which England has produced. So well was the work received, that the third edition of it was published in 1733.
Dr. Warburton justly styles it one of the best reasoned
books in the world. It is likewise recommended by the
temper and candour with which it is composed. Dr. Conybeare' s Defence will always maintain its rank, and perhaps
be thought to sustain the first place among the four capital
answers which Tindal received. The other three were,
Foster’s
” Usefulness, Truth, and Excellency of the
Christian Revelation;“Leland’s
” Answer to a late book,
entitled Christianity as old as the Creation;“and Mr. Simon Browne’s
” Defence of the Religion of Nature and
the Christian Revelation."
ch, it might have been expected, from his eminent merit and learning, that he would sooner have been called to the higher honours of his profession. But it is to be remembered,
As Dr. Conybeare was raised early in life to so conspicuous a station as that of the deanery of Christ church, it might have been expected, from his eminent merit and learning, that he would sooner have been called to the higher honours of his profession. But it is to be remembered, that not long after his promotion to the deanery, his good friend, the bishop of London, lost his influence at court; and the lord chancellor Talbot dying in the year 1737, our author had no particular patron to recommend him to royal favour. It was not, therefore, till the latter end of 1750, that he attained the mitre; and this was more owing to his acknowledged abilities and character, than to any personal interposition. On the translation of Dr. Joseph Butler to the see of Durham, Dr. Conybeare was appointed to the bishopric of Bristol, and was consecrated at Lambeth chapel, on the 23d of December. The consecration sermon, which was soon afterwards published, was preached by Francis Webber, D. D. rector of Exeter college. The promotion of Dr. Conybeare to the prelacy, whilst it raised him to the highest order of the church, and enlarged his sphere of usefulness, was injurious to his private fortune. The slender revenues of his bishopric were not equal to the expences which accrued from his necessary residence sometimes at Bristol, and sometimes at London *. Four discourses were published by our author after he became a bishop. The first was the Easter Monday sermon, in 1751, from Proverbs xi. 17, before the
r. Walker. Early in February 1752, Mr. Walker sent for him, and made him mate of one of his vessels, called the Friendship, about 400 tons burthen. In this station he continued
In the spring of 1750, Mr. Cook shipped himself as a seaman on board the Maria, belonging to Mr. John Wilkinson, of Wbitby, under the command of captain Gaskin. In
her he continued all that year in the Baltic trade. Mr.
Walker is of opinion he left this ship in the winter, and
sailed the following summer, viz. 1751, in a vessel belonging to. Stockton; but neither the ship’s name, nor that of
the owner, is now remembered by Mr. Walker. Early in
February 1752, Mr. Walker sent for him, and made him
mate of one of his vessels, called the Friendship, about 400
tons burthen. In this station he continued till Ma,y or
June 1753, in the coal trade. At that period Mr. Walker
made him an offer to go commander of that ship; but he
declined it, soon after left her at London, and entered on
board his majesty’s ship Eagle, a frigate of 28 or 30 guns,
“having a mind,
” as he expressed himself to his master,
to “try his fortune that way.
” Not long after, he applied
to Mr. Walker for a letter of recommendation to the captain of the frigate, which was readily granted. On the
receipt of this he got some small preferment, which he
gratefully acknowledged, and ever remembered. Some
time after, the Eagle sailed with ^another frigate on a
cruise, in which they were very successful. After this
Mr. Walker heard no more of Mr. Cook until August 1758,
when he received from him a letter dated Pembroke, before Louisburgb, July 30, 1758, in which he gave a distinct account of our success in that expedition, but does
not say what station he then filled.
ith every necessary which could promote the success of the undertaking. The first of these ships was called the Resolution, under the command of captain Cook; the other,
On this occasion lieutenant Cook was promoted to be captain, and his commission bore date the 25th of May 1768. He immediately hoisted the pendant, and took command of the ship, in which he sailed down the river on the 30th of July. In this voyage he was accompanied by Joseph Banks, esq. (since sir Joseph, bart. knight of the bath, and president of the royal society) and Dr. Solander. On the 13th of October he arrived at Rio de Janeiro, and on the 13th of April 1769 came to Otaheite, where the transit of Venus was observed in different parts of the island. He staid there until the 13th of July, after which he went in search of several islands, which he discovered. He then proceeded to New Zealand, and on the 10th of October 1770, arrived at Batavia with a vessel almost worn out, and the crew much fatigued and very sickly. The repairs of the ship obliged him to continue at this unhealthy place until the 27th of December, in which time he lost many of his seamen and passengers, and more in the passage to the Cape of Good Hope, which place he reached on the 15th of March 177-1. On the 14-th of April he left the Cape, and the 1st of May anchored at St. Helena, from whence he sailed on the 4th, and came to anchor in the Downs on the 12th of June, after having been absent almost three years, and in that time had experienced every danger to which a voyage of such a length is incident, and in which he had made discoveries equal to those of all the navigators of his country from the time of CoJumbus to the present. The narrative of this expedition was written by Dr. Hawkesworth, who, although the facts contained in it have not been denied, nor the excellence of the composition disputed, was, on its publication, treated with peculiar severity, owing to some opinions on the nature of providence, which Dr, Hawkesworth incautiously advanced, Soon after captain Cook’s return to England, it was resolved to equip two ships to complete the discovery of the southern hemisphere. It had long been a prevailing idea, that the unexplored part contained another continent; and Alexander Dalrymple, esq. a gentleman of great skill and an enterprising spirit, had been very firmly persuaded of its existence. To ascertain the fact was the principal object of this expedition; and that nothing might be omitted that could tend to facilitate the enterprise, two ships were provided, furnished with every necessary which could promote the success of the undertaking. The first of these ships was called the Resolution, under the command of captain Cook; the other, the Adventure, commanded by captain Furneaux. Both of them sailed from Deptfortl on the 9th of April 1772, and arrived at the Cape of Good Hope on the 30th of October. They departed from thence on the 22d of November, and from that time until the 17th of January 1773, continued endeavouring to discover the continent, when they were obliged to relinquish the design, observing the whole sea covered with ice from the direction of S. E. round by the south to west. They then proceeded into the South Seas, and made many other discoveries, and returned to the Cape of Good Hope on the 2 1 st of March 1774, and from thence to England on the 14th of July; having during three years and eighteen days (in which time the voyage was performed) lost but one man by sickness, in captain Cook’s ship; although he had navigated throughout all the climates from fifty-two degrees north to seventy-one degrees south, with a company of an hundred and eighteen men. The relation of this voyage was given to the public by captain Cook himself, and by Mr. George Forster, son of Dr. Forster, who had been appointed by government to accompany him for the purpose of making observations on such natural productions as might be fouud in the course of the navigation; but the publication was superintended by Dr. Douglas, the late bishop of Salisbury.
g, on the arrival of two men in a canoe from the opposite side of the bay, with the news of a chief, called Kareemoo, having been killed by one of the Discovery’s boats,
shipnaan with captain Cook in his first ship arrived in England. See Hawkesvoyage, and was appointed by him a worth’s Voyage, vol. iii. p. 395. lieutenant on the deaib of Mr. Hicks, was held as sacred as that of the king. During this time captain Cook was preparing to go ashore himself at the town of Kavaroah, in order to secure the person of Kariopoo, before he should have time to withdraw himself to another part of the island out of our reach. This appeared the most effectual step that could be taken on the present occasion, for the recovery of the boat. It was the measure he had invariably pursued, in similar cases, at other islands in these seas, and it had always been attended with the desired success: in fact, it would be difficult to point out any other mode of proceeding on these emergencies, likely to attain the object in view. We had reason to suppose that the king and his attendants had fled wheu the alarm was first given: in that case, it was captain Cook’s intention to secure the large canoes which were hauled up on the beach. He left the ship about seven o'clock, attended by the lieutenant of marines, a serjeant, corporal, and seven private men: the pinnace’s crew were also armed, and under the command of Mr. Roberts. As they rowed towards the shore, captain Cook ordered the launch to leave her station at the west point of the bay, in order to assist his own boat. This is a circumstance worthy of notice; for it clearly shews, that he was not unapprehensive of meeting with resistance from the natives, or unmindful of the necessary preparation for the safety of himself and his people. I will venture to say, that from the appearance of things just at that time, there was not one, beside himself, who judged that such precaution was absolutely requisite: so little did his conduct on the occasion bear the marks of rashness or a precipitate self-confidence! He landed, with the marines, at the upper end of the town of Kavaroah: the Indians immediately flocked round, as usual, and shewed him the customary marks of respect, by prostrating themselves before him. There were no signs of hostilities, or much alarm among them. Captain Cook, however, did not seem willing to trust to appearances; but was particularly attentive to the disposition of the marines, and to have them kept clear of the crowd. He first inquired for the king’s sons, two youths who were much attached to him, and generally his companions on board. Messengers being sent for them, they soon came lo him; and informing him that their father was asleep, at a house not far -from them, he accompanied them thither, and took the marines along with them. As he passed along, the natives every where prostrated themselves before him, and seemed to have lost no part of that respect they had always shewn to his person. He was joined by several chiefs, among whom was Kanynah, and his brother Koohowrooah. They kept the crowd in order, according to their usual custom; and being ignorant of his intention in coining on shore, frequently asked him, if he wanted any hogs, or other provisions: he told them, that he did not, and that his business was to see the king. When he arrived B.L the house, he ordered some of the Indians to go in and inform Kariopoo, that he waited without to speak with him. They came out two or three times, and instead of returning any answer from the king, presented some pieces of red cloth to him, which made captain Cook suspect that he was not in the house; he therefore desired the lieutenant of marines to go in. The lieutenant found the old man just awaked from sleep, and seemingly alarmed at the message; but he came out without hesitation. Captain Cook took him by the hand, and in a friendly manner asked him to go on board, to which he very readily consented. Thus far matters appeared in a favourable train, and the natives did not seem much alarmed or apprehensive of hostility on our side; at which captain Cook expressed himself a little surprisec), saying, that as the inhabitants of that town appeared innocent of stealing the cutter, he should not molest them, but that he must get the king on board. Kariopoo sat down before his door, and was surrounded by a great crowd: Kanynah and his brother were both very active in keeping order among them. In a little time, however, the Indians were observed arming themselves with long spears, clubs, and daggers, and putting on thick mats, which they use as armour. This hostile appearance increased, and became more alarming, on the arrival of two men in a canoe from the opposite side of the bay, with the news of a chief, called Kareemoo, having been killed by one of the Discovery’s boats, in their passage across: they had also delivered this account to each of the ships. Upon that information, the women, who were sitting upon the beach at their breakfast, and conversing familiarly with our people in the boats, retired, and a confused murmur spread through the crowd. An old priest came to captain Cook, with a cocoa nut in his hand, which he held out to him as a present, at the same time singing very loud. He was often desired to be silent, but in vain: he continued importunate and troublesome, and there was no such thing as getting rid of him or his noise: it seemed as if he meant to divert their attention from his countrymen, who were growing more tumultuous, and arming themselves in every quarter. Captain Cook, being at the same time surrounded by a great crowd, thought his situation rather hazardous: he therefore ordered the lieutenant of marines to march his small party to the water-side, where the boats lay within a few yards of the shore: the Indians readily made a lane for them to pass, and did not offer to interrupt them. The distance they had to go might be fifty or sixty yards; captain Cook followed, having hold of Kariopoo’s hand, who accompanied him very willingly: he was attended by his wife, two sons, and several chiefs. The troublesome old priest followed, making the same savage noise. Keowa, the younger son, went directly into the pinnace, expecting his father to follow; but just as he arrived at the water-side, his wife threw her arms about his neck, and, with the assistance of two chiefs, forced him to sit down by the side of a double canoe. Captain Cook expostulated with them, but to nopurpose they would not suffer the king to proceed telling him he would be put to death if he went on board the ship. Kariopoo, whose conduct seemed entirely resigned to the will of others, hung down his head, and appeared much distressed.
e boats. At this captain Cook was heard to express his astonishment: he waved his hand to the boats, called to them to cease firing, and to come nearer in to receive the
While the king was in this situation, a chief, well known to us, of the name of Coho, was observed near, with au iron dagger, partly concealed under his cloke, seemingly with an intention of stabbing captain Cook, or the lieutenant of marines. The latter proposed to fire at him, but captain Cook would notpermit it. Coho closing upon them, obliged the officer to strike him with his piece, which made him retire. Another Indian laid hold of the Serjeant’s musket, and endeavoured to wrench it from him, but was prevented by the lieutenant’s making a blow at him. Captain Cook, seeing the tumult increase, and the Indians growing more daring and resolute, observed, that if he were to take the king off by force, he could not do it without sacrificing the lives of many of his people. He then paused a little, and was on the point of giving his orders to reimbark, when a man threw a stone at him, which he returned with a discharge of small shot, with which one barrel of his double piece was loaded. The man, having a thick mat before him, received little or no hurt: he brandished his spear, and threatened to dart it at captain Cook, who being still unwilling to take away his life, instead of firing with ball, knocked him down with his musket. He expostulated strongly with the most forward of the crowd, upon their turbulent behaviour. He had given up all thoughts of getting the king on board, as it appeared impracticable; and his care was then only to act on the defensive, and to secure a safe embarkation for his small party, which was closely pressed by a body of several thousand people. Keowa, the king’s son, who was in the pinnace, being alarmed on hearing the first firing, was, at his own entreaty, put on shore again; for even at that time Mr. Roberts, who commanded her, did not apprehend that captain Cook’s person was in any danger, otherwise he would have detained the prince, which no doubt would have been a great check on the Indians. One man was observed, behind a double canoe, in the action of darting his spear at captain Cook; who was forced to fire at him in his own defence, but happened to kill another close to him, equally forward in the tumult: the serjeant, observing that he had missed the man he aimed at, received orders to fire at him, which he did, and killed him. By this time the impetuosity of the Indians was somewhat repressed: they fell back in a body, and seemed staggered; but being pushed on by those behind, they returned to the charge, and poured a volley of stones among the marines, who, without waiting for orders, returned it with a general discharge of musketry, which was instantly followed by a fire from the boats. At this captain Cook was heard to express his astonishment: he waved his hand to the boats, called to them to cease firing, and to come nearer in to receive the marines. Mr. Roberts immediate^ brought the pinnace as close to the shore as he could without grounding, notwithstanding the showers of stones that fell among the people: but Mr. John Williamson, the lieutenant, who commanded in the launch, instead of pulling in to the assistance of captain Cook, withdrew his boat further off, at the moment that every thing seems to have depended upon the timely exertions of those in the boats. By his own account, he mistook the signal: but be that as it may, this circumstance appears to me to have decided the fatal turn of the affair, and to have removed every chance which remained with captain Cook, of escaping with his life. The business of saving the marines out of the water, in consequence of that, fell altogether upon the pinnace; which thereby became so much crowded, that the crew were in a great measure prevented from using their fire-arms, or giving what assistance they otherwise might have done to captain Cook; so that he seems, at the most critical point of time, to have wanted the assistance of both boats, owing to the removal of the launch. For notwithstanding that they kept up a fire on the crowd from the situation to which they removed in that boat, the fatal confusion which ensued on her being withdrawn, to say the least of it, must have prevented the full effect, that the prompt co-operation of the two boats, according to captain Cook’s orders, must have had towards the preservation of himself and his people. At that time it was to the boats alone that captain Cook had to look for his safety; for when the marines had fired, the Indians rushed among them, and forced them into the water, where four of them were killed: their lieutenant was wounded, but fortunately escaped, and was taken up by the pinnace. Captain Cook was then the only one remaining on the rock: he was observed making for the pinnace, holding his left hand against the back of his head, to guard it from the stones, and carrying his musquet under the other arm. An Indian was seen following him, but with caution and timidity: for he stopped once or twice, as if undetermined to proceed. At last he advanced upon him unawares, and with a large club, or common stake, gave him a blow on the back of the head, and then precipitately retreated. The stroke seemed to have stunned captain Cook: he staggered a few paces, then fell on his hand and one knee, and dropped his musquet. As he was rising, and before he could recover his feet, another Indian stabbed him in the back of the neck with an iron dagger. He then fell into a bite of water about knee deep, where others crowded upon him, and endeavoured to keep him under; but struggling very strongly with them, he got his head up, and casting his look towards the pinnace, seemed to solicit assistance. Though the boat was not above five or six yards distant from him, yet from the crowded and confused state of the crew, it seems it was not in their power to save him. The Indians got him under again, but in deeper water: he was, however, able to get his head up once more; and being almost spent in the struggle, he naturally turned to the rock, and was endeavouring to support himself by it, when a savage gave him a blow with a club, and he was seen alive no more. They hauled him up lifeless on the rocks, where they seemed to take a savage pleasure in using every barbarity to his dead body; snatching the daggers out of each other’s hands, to have the horrid satisfaction of piercing the fallen victim of their barbarous rage."
rmined the insularity of New Zealand; discovered the straits which separate the two islands, and are called after his name; and made a complete survey of both. He afterwards
“Such were the outlines of captain Cook’s character;
but its most distinguishing feature was that unremitting
perseverance in the pursuit of his object, which was not
only superior to the opposition of dangers, and the pressure of hardships, but even exempt from the want of ordinary relaxation. Perhaps no science ever received greater
accessions frbm the labours of a single man, than geography has done from those of captain Cook. In his first
voyage to the South seas he discovered the Society islands;
determined the insularity of New Zealand; discovered the
straits which separate the two islands, and are called after
his name; and made a complete survey of both. He afterwards explored the eastern coast of New Holland, hitherto
unknown; an extent of upwards of two thousand miles. In
his second expedition he resolved the great problem of a
southern continent, having traversed that hemisphere in
such a manner as not to leave a possibility of its existence,
unless near the pole, and out of the reach of navigation.
During this voyage he discovered New Caledonia, the
largest island in the Southern Pacific, except New Zealand:
the island of Georgia; and an unknown coast, which he
named Sandwich land, the Thule of the southern hemisphere: and having twice visited the tropical seas, he settled
the situations of the old, and made several new discoveries.
But the last voyage is distinguished above all the rest by the
extent and importance of its discoveries. Besides several
smaller islands in the southern Pacific, he discovered, to
the north of the equinoctial line, the groupe called the
Sandwich islands; which, from their situation and productions, bid fairer for becoming an object of consequence in
the system of European navigation, than any other discovery in the South sea. He afterwards explored what had
hitherto remained-unknown of the western coast of America, containing an extent of three thousand five hundred
miles; ascertained the proximity of the two great continents of Asia and America; passed the straits between
them, and surveyed the coast on each side, to such a height
of northern latitude, as to demonstrate the impracticability
of a passage, in that hemisphere, from the Atlantic into
the Pacific ocean, either by an eastern or a western course.
In short, if we except the sea of Amur, and the Japanese
archipelago, which still remain imperfectly known to Europeans, he has completed the hydrography of the habitable
globe.
” Captain King concludes his account of this extraordinary man, whose death cannot be sufficiently lamented,
in the following words: “Having given the most faithful
account I have been able to collect, both from my own
observation and the relations of others, of the death of my
ever-honoured friend, and also of his character and services, I shall now leave his memory to the gratitude and
admiration of posterity; accepting with a melancholy satisfaction the honour, which the loss of his has procured
me, of seeing my name joined with his; and of testifying
that affection and respect for his memory, which, whilst '
he lived, it was no less my inclination than my constant
study to shew him.
”
his life with the powers then in being. He was returned a member for Dorsetshire, in that which was called the healing parliament, which sat in April 1660; and a resolution
, earl of Shaftesbury, an
eminent statesman of very dubious character, was son of
sir John Cooper, of llockborn in the county of Southampton, bart. by Anne, daughter of sir Anthony Ashley of Winborne St. Giles in the county of Dorset, bart. where he
was born July 22, 1621. Being a boy of uncommon parts,
he was sent to Oxford at the age of fifteen, and admitted
a gentleman commoner of Exeter college, under Dr. John
Prideaux, the rector of it. He is said to have studied hard
there for about two years; and then removed to Lincoln’s
inn, where he applied himself with great vigour to the law,
and especially that part of it which related to the constitution of the kingdom. He was elected for Tewksbury in
Gloucestershire, in the parliament which met at Westminster, April 13, 1640, but was soon dissolved. He seems
to have been well affected to the king’s service at the beginning of the civil war: for he repaired to the king at
Oxford, offered his assistance, and projected a scheme,
not for subduing or conquering his country, but for reducing such as had either deserted or mistaken their duty
to his majesty’s obedience. He was afterwards invited to
Oxford by a letter from his majesty; but, perceiving that
he was not in confidence, that ins behaviour was disliked,
and his person in danger, he retired into the parliament
quarters, and soon after went up to London, where he was
well received by that party “to which,
” says Clarendon,
“he gave himself up body and soul.
” He accepted a
commission from the parliament and, raising forces, took
Wareham by storm, October 1644, and soon after reduced
all the adjacent parts of Dorsetshire. This, and some other
actions of the same nature, induced the above-mentioned
historian to say that he “became an implacable enemy to
the royal family.
” The next year he was sheriff of Wiltshire, in 1651 he was of the committee of twenty, appointed to consider of ways and means for reforming the
law. He was also one of the members of the convention
that met after Cromwell had turned out the long parliament. He was again a member of parliament in 1654, and
one of the principal persons who signed that famous protestation, charging the protector with tyranny and arbitrary
government; and he always opposed the illegal measures
of that usurper to the utmost. When the protector Richard
was deposed, and the Rump came again into power, they
nominated sir Anthony one of their council of state, and a
commissioner for managing the army. He was at that very
time engaged in a secret correspondence with the friends
of Charles II. and greatiy instrumental in promoting his
restoration; which brought him into peril of his life with
the powers then in being. He was returned a member for
Dorsetshire, in that which was called the healing parliament, which sat in April 1660; and a resolution being
taken to restore the constitution, he was named one of the
twelve members of the house of commons to carry their
invitation to the king. It was in performing this service
that he had the misfortune to be overturned in a carriage
upon a Dutch road, by which he received a dangerous
wound between the ribs, which ulcerated many years after,
and was opened when he was chancellor.
arter-house. With respect to Mr. Martyn’s work, it is more necessary to remark that the last person, called here another person, to whom the revisal of it was consigned,
On this account, written by Dr. Kippis for the last edition of the Biog. Britannica, it is necessary to remark, that
Mr. Malone, in his Life of Dryden, has amply refuted the
story of the Charter-house. With respect to Mr. Martyn’s
work, it is more necessary to remark that the last person,
called here another person, to whom the revisal of it was
consigned, and who received 500l. for his trouble, was
Dr. Kippis himself, but it seems difficult to explain what
he means, by adding “Whether the work is likely soon to
appear, it is not in our power to ascertain.
” The volume
of the Biographia in which this article occurs was published
in 1789; and six years afterwards, in 1795, Dr. Kippis died.
At the sale of his library, a quarto volume of a Life of
Lord Shaftesbury, evidently the one alluded to, was purchased by the late duke of Grafton, and must consequently
have been printed some time between 1789 and 1795,
most probably privately, as no other copy, to the best of
our recollection, has since been exposed to sale.
and was quite unable to proceed. The house, after giving him a little time to recover his confusion, called loudly for him to go on, when he proceeded to this effect: “If
Upon his return to England in 1689, he was offered a
seat in parliament from some of those boroughs where his
family had an interest; but he declined it, and pursued
that strict course of study, which he had proposed to himself, near five years. He was then elected a burgess for
Poole: and, soon after his coming into parliament, had an
opportunity of shewing that spirit of liberty, which he
maintained to the end of his life, when “The act for granting counsel to prisoners in cases of high treason
” was
brought into the house. This he looked upon as important, and had prepared a speech in its behalf: but when he
stood up to speak it in the house of commons, he was so
intimidated, that he lost all memory, and was quite unable
to proceed. The house, after giving him a little time to recover his confusion, called loudly for him to go on, when
he proceeded to this effect: “If I, sir,
” addressing himself
to the speaker, “who rise only to give my opinion on the
bill now depending, am so confounded, that I am unable
to express the least of what I proposed to say; what must
the condition of that man be, who, without any assistance,
is pleading for his life?
” During this and other sessions,
in which he continued in the house of commons, he gave a
consistent support to every motion for the farther security
of liberty: but the business of attending regularly the
house of commons, which in those active times generally
sat long, in a few years so impaired his health, naturally
never robust, that he was obliged to decline coming again
into parliament, after its dissolution in 1698.
treats providence, Anus fatidica stoicomm Kfoma. The first therefore of these philosophies is to be called the civil, social, and theistic: the second the contrary.”
But lord Shaftesbury’s principal study was the writings
of antiquity; and those which he most admired, were the
moral works of Xenophon, Horace, the Enchiridion of
Epictetus, with Arrian’s Commentaries, and Marcus Antoninus. From these he formed to himself the plan of his
philosophy: and the idea which he framed to himself of
philosophy in general, may be best comprehended from the
following words of his, where addressing himself to a correspondent, he says: “Nor were there indeed any more than
two real distinct philosophies; the one derived from Socrates, and passing into the old academic, the peripatetic,
and stoic; the other derived in reality from Democritus,
and passing into the Cyrenaic, and Epicurean. For as for
that mere sceptic or new academic, it had no certain precepts, and so was an exercise of sophistry, rather than of
philosophy. The first therefore of these two philosophies
recommended action, concernment in civil affairs, religion,
&c. the second derided all this, and advised inaction and
retreat. And good reason for the first maintained, that
society, right, and wrong, were founded in nature, and
that nature had a meaning, and was herself; that is to say,
in her wits, well governed, and administered by one simple
and perfect intelligence. The second again derided this,
and made providence and dame nature not so sensible as a
doting old woman. So the Epicurean in Cicero treats
providence, Anus fatidica stoicomm Kfoma. The first therefore of these philosophies is to be called the civil, social,
and theistic: the second the contrary.
”
he had attacked him as an author, and not as a man, and did not, as a fair antagonist, deserve to be called an impudent slanderer. He next examines a few of Warburton’s
In 1749 he published with his name, “The Life of Socrates, collected from all the ancient authorities.
” In this
work he received many learned notes from the sturdy antagonist of Warburton, the rev. John Jackson of Leicester,
a controversial divine of considerable fame in his day.
These notes were principally levelled at Warburton, and
in language not very respectful. Warburton, who knew
Jackson, but probably little of Cooper, retorted by a note,
in his edition of Pope’s Works, on the Essay of Criticism,
in which he accused the author of the Life of Socrates of
impudent abuse and slander, the offspring of ignorance
joined with vanity. Cooper’s vanity, it must be confessed,
is amply displayed in this work, and it is impossible to
justify his affected contempt for writers of established reputation. Warburton’s rebuke, however, was very coarse,
and appears to have alarmed him, for he was not naturally
of an abusive turn, but, on the contrary, rather prided
himself on a mind superior to personal animosities. In his
defence, therefore, he published Remarks on Warburton’s
edition of Pope, in which he professes that he had attacked him as an author, and not as a man, and did not, as
a fair antagonist, deserve to be called an impudent slanderer. He next examines a few of Warburton’s notes on
Pope, and endeavours to prove his incapacity as a commentator. He betrays, however, that the real cause of
his introducing Warburton’s name into the Life of Socrates,
was his want of veneration for Mr. Cooper’s favourite philosophers, Shaftesbury, Hutcheson, &c. The whole is
written with much acrimony, but with a very considerable
display of learning. In the former, at least, there is reason to think, he was assisted by Jackson; but the Life of
Socrates brought very little reputation to its author, and
after some years, Warburton’s angry note was omitted
from the editions of Pope.
als of the Reformation.” In 1577 the queen sent him a letter to put a stop to those public exercises called prophesyings, in his diocese. These prophesyings were grounded
, a learned English
bishop, was born at Oxford about 1517, and educated in
the school adjoining to Magdalen college; and, having
made great progress in grammar learning, and gained high
reputation, he was there elected first demy, then probationer in 1539, and perpetual fellow the year after. He
quitted his fellowship in 1546, being then married, as it is
supposed; and when queen Mary came to the crown, applied himself to the study of physic, and, faking a bachelor’s degree, practised it at Oxford, because he was secretly
inclined to the Protestant religion; but upon the death of
that queen, he returned to his former study of divinity.
March 156,7, he took the degree of D.D. and about that
time was made dean of Christ-church. In 1569 he was
made dean of Gloucester, and the year after bishop of Lincoln. July 1572, he preached a sermon at St. Paul’s cross,
in vindication of the church of England and its liturgy; to
which an answer was sent him by a disaffected person, which
answer Strype has printed at length in his “Annals of
the Reformation.
” In Ye may all prophesy one by one, that
all may learn, and all may be comforted.
” They were set
on foot in several parts of the kingdom about 1571; and
consisted of conferences among the clergy, for the better improving of themselves, and one another, in the knowledge
of scripture and divinity; but in 1577 were generally suppressed, on account of their being thought seminaries of
puritanism. In 1584 he was translated to the bishopric of
Winchester; which diocese abounding greatly with papists,
he petitioned the privy-council to suppress them; and
among other methods proposed, “that an hundred or two
of obstinate recusants, lusty men, well able to labour,
might by some convenient commission be taken up, and
be sent into Flanders as pioneers and labourers, whereby
the country should be disburdened of a company of dangerous people, and the rest that remained be put in some
fear.
”
Samius, Nicetas, Heraclides Ponticus, Plato, and Pythagoras; from the last of whom it was anciently called the Pythagoric, or Pythagorean system. It was also held by Archimedes,
This system he began to consider, and to write upon, when he was about thirty- five years of age. He carefully contemplated the phenomena made mathematical calculations examined the observations of the ancients, and made new ones of his own till, after more than twenty years chiefly spent in this manner, he brought his scheme to perfection, establishing that system of the world which goes by his name, and is now universally received by all philosophers. It had, indeed, been maintained by many of the ancients; particularly Ecphantus, Seleucus, Aristarchus, Philolaus, Cleanthes Samius, Nicetas, Heraclides Ponticus, Plato, and Pythagoras; from the last of whom it was anciently called the Pythagoric, or Pythagorean system. It was also held by Archimedes, in his book of the number of the grains of sand; but after him it became neglected, and even forgotten, for many ages, till Copernicus revived it; from whom it took the new name of the Copernican system.
, called by Melchior Adam, Henry Urban, a physician and poet, was a native
, called by Melchior Adam, Henry Urban,
a physician and poet, was a native of Simmershuys in Hesse. To assist himself in the prosecution of
his studies, he undertook the business of private tutor, and
while thus employed, had the good fortune to attract the
notice of Erasmus, but his openness of character is said to
have procured him enemies among men of less liberal
minds. In 1521 he went to Italy, where he attached himself in a particular manner to the study of botany collecting and examining a number of rare plants, and diligently
comparing them with the descriptions of them left by
Dioscorides. At Ferrara he took the degree of doctor in
medicine, which he afterwards taught at Erfurt and Marpurg. In 1535 he went to Bremen, where he remained
until his death, in 1533. He was author of several, and
some very valuable, works. His “Treatise on the English
Sweating Sickness
” was published at Fribourg, in Botanologicon,
sive Colloquium de Herbis,
” was printed at Colonna, in
De Abusu Uroscopirc,
” in Deliciae Poet. Germ.
”
lli was much perplexed in his first attempt to play it. This serenata, translated into IJnglish, and called “The Triumph of Time and Truth,” Was performed at London in
While thus intent upon musical pursuits at Kome, he
fell under the patronage of cardinal Ottoboni; and is said
to have regulated the musical academy held at the cardinal’s palace every Monday afternoon. Here it was that
Handel became acquainted with him; and in this academy
a serenata of Handel, entitled “II trionfo del tempo,
”
was performed: the overture to which was in a style so
new and singular, that Corelli was much perplexed in his
first attempt to play it. This serenata, translated into IJnglish, and called “The Triumph of Time and Truth,
” Was
performed at London in
or the sake of being old since all that was life, after the age of sixty-five, could not properly be called vita viva, sed vita mortua not a living life, but a dead life.
Some sensualists, as it appears, had objected to his
manner of living; and in order to evince the
reasonableness of their own, had urged, that it was not worth while
to mortify one’s appetites at such a rate, for the sake of
being old since all that was life, after the age of sixty-five,
could not properly be called vita viva, sed vita mortua not
a living life, but a dead life. “Now,
” says he, “to shew
these gentlemen how much they are mistaken, I will briefly
run over the satisfactions and pleasures which I myself
now enjoy in this eighty-third year of my age. In the
first place I am always well; and so active withal, that I
can with ease mount a horse upon a flat, and walk to the
tops of very high mountains. In the next place I am always cheerful, pleasant, perfectly contented, and free from
all perturbation, and every uneasy thought. I have none
of that fastidium vita?, that satiety of life, so often to be
met with in persons of my age. I frequently converse with
men of parts and learning, and spend much of my time in
reading and writing. These things I do, just as opportunity serves, or my humour invites me; and all in my own
house here at Padua, which, I may say, is as commodious
and elegant a seat, as any perhaps that this age can shew;
built by me according to the exact proportions of architecture, and so contrived as to be an equal shelter against
heat and cold. I enjoy at proper intervals my gardens, of
which I have many, whose borders are refreshed with
streams of running water. I spend some months in the
year at those Eugancan hills, where I have another commodious house with gardens and fountains: and I visit also
a seat I have in the valley, which abounds in beauties,
from the many structures, woods, and rivulets that encompass it. I frequently make excursions to some of the
neighbouring cities, for the sake of seeing my friends, and
conversing with the adepts in all arts and sciences: architects, painters, statuaries, musicians, and even husbandmen. I contemplate their works, compare them with the
ancients, and am always learning something, which it is
agreeable to know. I take a view of palaces, gardens, antiquities, public buildings, temples, fortifications: and nothing escapes me, which can afford the least amusement to
a rational mind. Nor are these pleasures at all blunted by
the usual imperfections of great age: for I enjoy all my
senses in perfect vigour; my taste so very much, that I
have a better relish for the plainest food now, than I had
for the choicest delicacies, when formerly immersed in a
life oi luxury. Nay, to let you see what a portion of fire
and spirit I have still left within me, know, that I have
this very year written a comedy, full of innocent mirth and
pleasantry; and, if a Greek poet was thought so very
healthy and happy, for writing a tragedy at the age of 73,
why should not I be thought as healthy and as happy, who
have written a comedy, when I am ten years older? In
short, that no pleasure whatever may be wanting to my old
age, I please myself daily with contemplating that immortality, which I think I see in the succession of my posterity.
For every time I return home, I meet eleven grandchildren, all the offspring of one father and mother; all in
fine health; all, as far as I can discern, apt to learn, and
of good behaviour. I am often amused by their singing;
nay, I often sing with them, because my voice is louder
and clearer now, than ever it was in my life before. These
are the delights and comforts of my old age; from which,
I presume, it appears, that the life I spend is not a dead,
morose, and melancholy life, but a living, active, pleasant
life, which I would not change with the robustest of those
youths who indulge and riot in all the luxury of the senses,
because I know them to be exposed to a thousand diseases,
and a thousand kinds of deaths. I, on the contrary, am
free from all such apprehensions: from the apprehension
of disease, because I have nothing for disease to feed upon;
from the apprehension of death, because I have spent a
life of reason. Besides, death, I am persuaded, is not yet
near me. I know that (barring accidents) no violent disease
can touch me. I must be dissolved by a gentle and gradual decay, when the radical humour is consumed like oil
in a lamp, which affords no longer life to the dying taper.
But such a death as this cannot happen of a sudden. To
become unable to walk and reason, to become blind, deaf,
and bent to the earth, from all which evils I am far enough
at present, must take a considerable portion of time: andI verily believe, that this immortal soul, which still inhabits my body with so much harmony and complacency,
will not easily depart from it yet. I verily believe that I
have many years to live, many years to enjoy the world
and all the good that is in it; by virtue of that strict sobriety and temperan-ce, which I have so loug and so religiously observed; friend as I am to reason, but a foe to
sense.
” His wife, who survived him, lived also to nearly
the same age. Sir John Sinclair, in his “Code of Health
and Longevity,
” mentions the edition of An earnest exhortation to a sober life;
” and the last is a
letter to Barbaro, patriarch of Aquileia, written when he
was ninety-five, which contains a lively description of the
htalth, vigour, and perfect use of all his faculties, which
he had the happiness of enjoying at that advanced period
of life.
As soon as the news of her death reached Rome, the academicians called Infecondi, who had formerly admitted her of their society, composed
As soon as the news of her death reached Rome, the academicians called Infecondi, who had formerly admitted her of their society, composed odes and epitaphs to her memory without number, and celebrated a funeral solemnity in honour of her, in the college of the Barnabite ftithers, where the academy of the Infecondi usually assembled. This solemnity was conducted with such magnificence, that a description of it was published at Padua in 1686, and dedicated to the republic of Venice. Part of the ceremony was a funeral oration, in which one of the academicians with all the pomp of Italian eloquence, expatiated upon the great and valuable qualities of the deceased; saying, that Helena Lucretia Cornaro had triumphed over three monsters, who were at perpetual war with her sex, viz. luxury, pride, and ignorance; and that in this she was superior to all the conquerors of antiquity, even to Pompey himself, though he triumphed at the same time over the three kings, Mithridates, Tigranes, and Aristobulus, because it was easier to conquer three kingdoms, than three such imperfections and vices, &e. In 1688 her works were published at Parma, 8vo, edited by Benedict Bacchini, with an ample life, but the praises he bestows on her are but feebly supported by these writings.
, one of the most celebrated French poets, and called by his countrymen the Shakspeare of France, was born at Roan,
, one of the most celebrated
French poets, and called by his countrymen the Shakspeare of France, was born at Roan, June 6, 1606, of considerable parents, his father having been ennobled for his
services by Louis XIII. He was brought up to the bar,
which he attended some little time; but having no turn for
business, he soon deserted it. At this time he had given
the public no specimen of his talents for poetry, nor appears to have been conscious of possessing any such: and
they tell us, that it was purely a trifling affair of gallantry,
which gave occasion to his first comedy, called “Melite.
”
The drama was then extremely low among the French;
their tragedy fiat and languid, their comedy more barbarous than the lowest of the vulgar would now tolerate.
Corneille was astonished to find himself the author of a
piece entirely new, and at the prodigious success with
which his “Melite
” was acted. The French theatre
seemed to be raised, and to flourish at once; and though
deserted in a manner before, was now filled on a sudden
with a new company of actors. After so happy an essay,
he continued to produce several other pieces of the same
kind; all of them, indeed, inferior to what he afterwards
wrote, but much superior to any thing which the French
had hitherto seen. His “Medea
” came forth next, a tragedy, borrowed in part from Seneca, which succeeded, as
indeed it deserved, bul indifferently; but in 1637 he presented the “Cid,
” another tragedy, in which he shewed
the world how high his genius was capable of rising, and
seems to confirm Du Bos’s assertion, that the age of thirty,
or a few years more or less, is that at which poets and
painters arrive at as high a pitch of perfection as their geniuses will permit. All Europe has seen the Cid: it has
been translated into almost all languages: but the reputation which he acquired by this play, drew all the wits of his
time into a confederacy against it. Some treated it contemptuously, others wrote against it. Cardinal de Richelieu himself is said to have been one of this cabal; for, not
content with passing for a great minister of state, he affected to pass for a wit and a critic; and, therefore, though
he had settled a pension upon the poet, could not abstain
from secret attempts against his play . It was supposed
to be under his influence that the French Academy drew
up that critique upon it, entitled, “Sentiments of the
French academy upon the tragi-comedy of Cid:
” in which,
however, while they censured some parts, they did not
scruple to praise it very highly in others. Corneille now
endeavoured to support the vast reputation he had gained,
by many admirable performances in succession, which, as
Bayle observes, “carried the French theatre to its highest
pitch of glory, and assuredly much higher than the ancient
one at Athens;
” yet still, at this time, he had to contend
with the bad taste of the most fashionable wits. When he
read his “Polyeucte,
” one of his best tragedies, before a
company of these, where Voiture presided, it was very
coldly received; and Voiture afterwards told him, it was
the opinion of his friends that the piece would not succeed.
In 1647 he was chosen a member of the French academy;
and was what they call dean of that society at the time of
his death, which happened in 1684, in his 79th year.
eir place on the stage; but it was his misfortune to be a Corneille, and brother of one emphatically called the Great Corneille.
, brother to the preceding, a
French poet also, but inferior to Peter CorneiHe, was born
in 1625. He was a member of the French academy, and of
the academy of inscriptions. He discovered, when he was
young, a strong inclination and genius for poetry; and
afterwards was the author of many dramatic pieces, some
of which were well received by the public, and acted with
great success. He died at Andeli, 1709, aged 84. His
dramatic works, with those of his brother, were published
at Paris, 1.738, in 11 vols. 12mo. Besides dramatic, Thomas Corneille was the author of some other works: as,
1. A translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses and some of his
Epistles. 2. Remarks upon Vaugelas. 3. fe A dictionary
of arts,“in 2 vols. folio. 4.
” An universal geographical
and historical dictionary," in 3 vols. folio. In the last work,
that part of the geography which concerns Normandy is said
to be excellent. As to his dramatic talents, they were far
from being contemptible, and a few of his pieces still keep
their place on the stage; but it was his misfortune to be a
Corneille, and brother of one emphatically called the Great
Corneille.
, sometimes called Laeti, an eminent historical painter, was born in 1490* or 1494.
, sometimes called Laeti, an eminent historical painter, was born in 1490* or 1494. Being descended of poor parents, and educated in an obscure village, he enjoyed none of those advantages which contributed to form the other great painters of that illustrious age. He saw none of the statues of ancient Greece or Rome; nor any of the works of the established schools of Rome and Venice. But nature was his guide; and Corregio was one of her favourite pupils. To express the facility with which he painted, he used to say that he always had his thoughts ready at the end of his pencil.
I think on the unhappy fate of poor Corregio-^-that so wonderful a man (if he ought not rather to be called an angel) should finish his days so miserably in a country where
ther he was horn in 1490, or 1494, is vol. II. of his works, published by Ninot ascertainedthe time of his death, cole d'Azara.
in 1534, is more certain. The best
temporaries and successors. Annibal Caracci, who flourished fifty years after him, studied and adopted his manner in preference to that of any other master. In a letter
to his cousin Louis, he expresses with great warmth the impression which was made on him by the first sight of Corregio’s paintings tf Every thing which I see here,“says he,
” astonishes me particularly the colouring and the beauty
of the children. They live they breathe They smile
with so much grace and so much reality, that it is impossible to refrain from smiling and partaking of their enjoyment. My heart is ready to break with grief when I think
on the unhappy fate of poor Corregio-^-that so wonderful a
man (if he ought not rather to be called an angel) should
finish his days so miserably in a country where his talents
were never known!"
“has justly been admired by all succeeding painters. This manner is in direct opposition to what is called the dry and hard manner which preceded him. His colour, and
“The excellency of Corregio’s manner,
” says sir Joshua
Reynolds, “has justly been admired by all succeeding
painters. This manner is in direct opposition to what is
called the dry and hard manner which preceded him. His
colour, and his mode of finishing, approach nearer to perfection than those of any other painter; the gliding motion of his outline, and the sweetness with which it melts
into the ground; the cleanness and transparency of his
colouring, which stop at that exact medium in which the
purity and perfection of taste lies, leave nothing to be
wished for.
”
he professor, “was yet wanting to complete the round of art harmony. It appeared with Antonio Laeti, called Corregio, whose works it attended like an enchanted spirit.
Mr. Fuseli’s opinion of Corregio may with great propriety close these criticisms. “Another charm,
” says the
professor, “was yet wanting to complete the round of art
harmony. It appeared with Antonio Laeti, called Corregio,
whose works it attended like an enchanted spirit. The
harmony and the grace of Corregio are proverbial: the
medium which by breadth of gradation unites two opposite
principles, the coalition of light and darkness, by imperceptible transition, are the element of his style. This inspires his figures with grace, to this their grace is subordinate: the most appropriate, the most elegant attitudes
were adopted, rejected, perhaps sacrificed to the most
aukvvard ones, in compliance with this imperious principle:
parts vanished, were absorbed, or emerged in obedience
to it. This unison of a whole, predominates over all that
remains of him, from the vastness of his cupolas to the
smallest of his oil-pictures. The harmony of Corregio,
though assisted by exquisite hues, was entirely independent of colour: his great organ was chiaroscuro in its most
extensive sense: compared with the expanse in which he
floats, the effects of Lionarda da Vinci are little more than
the dying ray of evening, and the concentrated flash of
Giorgione discordant abruptness. The bland central light
of a globe, imperceptibly gliding through lucid demitints
into rich reflected shades, composes the spell of Corregio,
and affects us with the soft emotions of a delicious dream.
”
reading” and a few more of less excellence, or less authentic character. The two allegoric pictures, called “Leda and Danae,” once in the possession of queen Christina,
Of Corregio’s best oil-pictures, Italy has been deprived
by purchase or by spoil. Dresden possesses the celebrated
“Night,
” or rather “Dawn
” the “Magdalen reading
”
and a few more of less excellence, or less authentic
character. The two allegoric pictures, called “Leda and
Danae,
” once in the possession of queen Christina, migrated to France, and with the picture of lo, were mangled
or destroyed by bigotry. A duplicate of the lo, and a
“Rape of Ganymede
” are at Vienna. Spain possesses
“Christ praying in the Garden,
” and “Mercury teaching
Cupid to. read in the presence of Venus.
” To the “Sposalizio of St. Catharine,
” which France possessed before,
the spoils of the revolution have added the “St. Jerome
with the Magdalen,
” the “Madonna della Scudella,
” the
“Descent from the Cross,
” and the “Martyrdom of St.
Placido,
” from Parma.
“the first volume of which appeared in 1734, in 4to, and the fourth and last, ten years after. Being called in 1746 to the chair of moral philosophy and metaphysics, he
, a monk of the Ecoles-Pies, and a
mathematician and antiquary, was born at Fanano in 1702,
and died in 1765, at Pisa, where the grand duke had given
him a chair in philosophy. This science occupied his first
studies, and his success soon appeared from the “Philosophical and Mathematical Institutions,
” Course of Geometrical
Elements,
” written with precision and perspicuity. On
being appointed professor at Pisa, he revised and retouched
his two performances. The former appeared, with considerable corrections, at Bologna in 1742; and the second,
augmented with f< Elements of Practical Geometry,“was
published at Venice in 1748, 2 vols. 8vo. He was well
versed in hydrostatics and history. After having sedulously
applied for several years to the classical authors, and particularly those of Greece, he proposed to write the
” Fasti
of the Archons of Athens,“the first volume of which appeared in 1734, in 4to, and the fourth and last, ten years
after. Being called in 1746 to the chair of moral philosophy and metaphysics, he composed a
” Course of Metaphysics,“which appeared afterwards at Venice in 1758.
His learned friends Muratori, Gorio, Maffei, Quirini, Passionei, now persuaded him to abandon philosophy; and,
at their solicitations, he returned to criticism and erudition. In 1747 he published four dissertations in 4to, on
the sacred games of Greece, in which he gave an exact list
of the athletic victors. Two years afterwards he brought
out, in folio, an excellent work on the abbreviations used
in Greek inscriptions, under this title,
” De notis Graecorum.“This accurate and sagacious performance was
followed by several dissertations relative to objects of learning. But the high esteem in which he was held by his
acquaintance on account of his virtues and industry, was
an interruption to his labours, he being appointed general
of his order in 1754; yet the leisure left him by the arduous duties of his station he devoted to his former studies,
and when the term of his generalship expired, he hastened
back to Pisa, to resume the functions of professor. He
now published several new dissertations, and especially an
excellent work, one of the best of his performances, entitled
” De praefectis urbis.“At length he confined the
whole of hi:; application on the
” History of the University
of Pisa," of which he had been appointed historiographer,
and was about to produce the first volume when a stroke
of apoplexy carried him off, in spite of all the resources of
the medical art, in December 1765.
, called Borgognone, was a Jesuit, born in Franche Comte, 1621, who carried
, called Borgognone,
was a Jesuit, born in Franche Comte, 1621, who carried the art of battle-painting to a degree unknown before or
after him. M. A. Cerquozzi himself did justice to his power,
and dissuading him from the pursuit of other branches of
painting, fixed him to that in which he could not but perceive that Cortesi would be his superior rather than his
rival. The great model on which he formed himself was the
“Battle of Constantine
” in the Vatican. He had been a
soldier, and neither the silence of Rome, nor the repose
of the convent, could lay his military ardour, He has
personified courage in attack or defence, and it has been
said that his pictures sound with the shouts of war, the
neighing of horses, the cries of the wounded His manner
pf painting was rapid, in strokes, and full of colour; hence
its effect is improved by distance. His style was his own,
though it may have been invigorated by his attention to
the works of Paolo at Venice, and his intercourse with
Gnido at Bologna. He died in 1676, leaving a brother
William Cortesi, like him called Borgognone, who was
the scholar of Pietro da Cortona, though not his imitator.
He adhered to Maratta in the choice and variety of his
heads, and a certain modesty of composition, but differed
from him in his style of drapery and colour, which has
something of Flemish transparence his brother, whom he
often assisted, likewise contributed to form his manner.
A Crucifixion in the church of St. Andrea on Monte Cavallo, and the Battle of Joshua in the palace of the Q.uirinal, by his hand, deserve to be seen.* He died in 1679,
aged 51. The brothers are both mentioned by Strutt as
having etched some pieces.
aldea, to the kingdom of Persia, and to Ispahan, where the king usually resided; to Seras, anciently called Shushan; to Candahor, the first province north-east under the
, the eccentric son of the preceding, was born at Odcombe, in 1577. He was first educated at Westminster-school, and became a commoner of
Gloucester-hall, Oxford, in 1596; where continuing about
three years, he attained, by mere dint of memory, some
skill in logic, and more in the Greek and Latin languages.
After he had been taken home for a time, he went to London, and was received into the family of Henry prince of
Wales, either as a domestic, or, according to some, as a
fool, an office which in former days was filled by a person
hired for the purpose. In this situation he was exposed to
the wits of the court, who, finding in him a strange mixture of sense and folly, made him their whetstone; and so,
says Wood, he became too much known to all the world.
In 1608, he took a journey to France, Italy, Germany, &c.
which lasted five months, during which he had travelled
1975 miles, more than half upon one pair of shoes, which
were once only mended, and on his return were hung up
in the church of Odcombe. He published his travels under
this title; “Crudities hastily gobbled up in five months
travels in France, Savoy, Italy, Rhetia, Helvetia, some
parts of High Germany, and the Netherlands, 1611,
” 4to,
reprinted in Coryate’s Crambe, or his Colwort
twice sodden, and now served in with other Macaronic
dishes, as the second course of his Crudities,
” 4to. In
, of Alexandria in Egypt, called Indopleustj-:S or Indicopleustes, on account of a voyage which
, of Alexandria in Egypt, called Indopleustj-:S
or Indicopleustes, on account of a voyage which he made
to the Indies, was at first a merchant, afterwards a monk,
and author, and is supposed to have flourished about the
year 547. He wrote several things, particularly the
“Christian Topography, or the opinion of Christians concerning the World, in 12 books still extant, and published
by Montfaucon in 1707, in the
” Nova collectio Patrum,“vol. II. Cosmas performed his voyage in 522, and pub^
lished his book at Alexandria in 547: it contains some
very curious information, but contrary to the sentiments of
all astronomers, he denies the earth to be spherical, and
endeavours to prove his opinion from reason, scripture, and
Christian writers, who lived before him. As his testimony
to the authenticity of the scriptures, however, is very considerable, Lardner has selected many passages from
” The
Christian Topography,“in his
” Credibility."
ed his principal attention on lithotomy, and the instrument with which he performed the operation he called lithotome cachc^ a hollow tube, in which was concealed a knife,
, whose family name was Baseillac, was a monk of the order of the Fetiillans, in Paris,
and born in 1703. He was educated to the practice of
surgery; but at his father’s death, which happened when
he was young, he retired from the world, and became a
monk, yet went on improving himself in the art to which
he had been bred, and gave his assistance to all who applied without any reward. He had bestowed his principal
attention on lithotomy, and the instrument with which he
performed the operation he called lithotome cachc^ a hollow
tube, in which was concealed a knife, with which he cut
through the prostate gland, into the bladder. His care
was to make the wound sufficiently large, to enable him to
extract the stone easily, and without bruising the parts.
To this, it is probable, his success, which was far superior
to any of his rivals, must be attributed. The fame he acquired drew upon him the envy of the surgeons of Paris so
far, that they applied to the king to interdict his practising.
Not succeeding in this attempt, Mons. Le Cat published
“Lettre au sujet du Lithotome Cache*, &c. contre F.
Cosme Dissert.
” Journal des Savans.
” This produced an answer
from De Cosme, under the title of “Recueil des pieces
imporiantes sur ['operation da la Taille,
” Paris, Nouvelle methode d'extraire la Pierre,
”
Paris, 12mo. After having for some time been director of
the hospital of Bayeux, he established an hospital in the
Feuillans, where he practised gratis. It is thought that in
the course of his life he had performed the operation for
the stone above a thousand times. He diedJuly 28, 1781,
most particularly lamented by the poor, towards whom he
was equally compassionate and charitable. When any
father of a family offered him money, he used to say,
“Keep it;. I must not injure your children
” and often,
instead of accepting a fee from the opulent, he would recommend some poor object to be relieved by them.
he word Hermes; in which is explained the origin of the custom, among the Greeks, of erecting stones called Hermae; together with some other particulars, relating to the
His next publication, which appeared in 1750, in 8vo,
was “Two dissertations: I. Containing an inquiry into the
meaning of the word Kesitah, mentioned in Job, ch. xlii.
ver. 11.
” attempting to prove, that though it most probably
there stands for the name of a coin, yet that there is no
reason for supposing it stamped with any figure at all; and,
therefore, not with that of a lamb in particular. II. “On the
signification of the word Hermes; in which is explained
the origin of the custom, among the Greeks, of erecting
stones called Hermae; together with some other particulars,
relating to the mythology of that people.
” At the conclusion, Mr. Costard observes, that the study of the oriental
languages seems to be gaining ground in Europe every
day; and provided the Greek and Latin are equally cultivated, we may arrive in a few years at a greater knowledge
of the ancient world, than may be expected, or can be
imagined; and he adds, that for such researches few places,
if any, in Europe are so well adapted as the university of
Oxford.
ly whose existence is occult, fictitious, and supported by no proofs. Gravity therefore can never be called an occult cause of the planetary motions; since it has been
January 1706, he was appointed professor of astronomy
and experimental philosophy, upon the foundation of Dr.
Thomas Plume, archdeacon of Rochester; being the first
that enjoyed that office, to which he was unanimously
chosen, on account of his high reputation and merits. He
took the degree of M. A. in 1706 and went into orders in
1713. The same year, at the desire of Dr. Bentley, he
published at Cambridge the second edition of sir Isaac
Newton’s “Mathematica Principia, &c.
” and inserted all
the improvements which the author had made to that time.
To this edition he prefixed a most admirable preface, in
which he expressed the true method of philosophising,
shewed the foundation on which the Newtonian philosophy
was built, and refuted the objections of the Cartesians and
all other philosophers against it. It may not be amiss to
transcribe a paragraph from this preface, in which the editor has given an answer to those who supposed that gravity
or attraction, in sir Isaac Newton’s system, was in no wise
a clearer principle, and more adapted to explain the phaenomena of nature, than the occult qualities of the peripatetics; because there are still philosophers who persist in
the same supposition. Gravity, say the objectors, is an
occult cause; and occult causes have nothing to do with
true philosophy. To this Mr. Cotes replies, that “occult
causes are, not those whose existence is most clearly demonstrated by observation and experiment, but those only
whose existence is occult, fictitious, and supported by no
proofs. Gravity therefore can never be called an occult
cause of the planetary motions; since it has been demonstrated from the phenomena, that this quality really exists.
Those rather have recourse to occult causes, who make
vortices to govern the heavenly motions; vortices, composed of a matter entirely fictitious, and unknown to the
senses. But shall gravity, therefore, be called an occult
cause, and on that account be banished from philosophy,
because the cause of gravity is occult, and as yet undiscovered? Let those, who affirm this, beware of laying
down a principle, which will serve to undermine the foundation of every system of philosophy that can be established. For causes always proceed, by an uninterrupted connexion, from those that are compound, to those that are
more simple; and when you shall have arrived at the most
simple, it will be impossible to proceed farther. Of the
most simple cause therefore no mechanical solution can be
given;. for if there could, it would not be the most simple.
Will you then call these most simple causes occult, and
banish them from philosophy? You rnay so; but you must
banish at the same time the causes that are next to them,
and those again that depend upon the causes next to them,
till philosophy at length will be so thoroughly purged of
causes, that there will not be one left whereon to build it.
”
The publication of this edition of Newton’s Principia
added greatly to his reputation nor; was the high opinion
the public now conceived of him in the least diminished,
but rather much increased, by several productions of his
own, which afterwards appeared. He gave a description
of the great fiery meteor, that was seen March 6, 1716,
which was published in the Phil. Trans, a little after his
death. He left hehind hirn also some admirable and judicious tracts, part of which, after his decease, were published by Dr. Robert Smith, his cousin and successor in his
professorship, afterwards master of Trinity college. His
“Harmonia Mensurarum,
” &c. was published at Cambridge, Harmonia Mensurarum
” is “Concerning the estimation of errors in mixed
mathematics/' The second,
” Concerning ^he differential
method;“which he handles in a manner somewhat different from sir Isaac Newton’s treatise upon that subject,
having written it before he had seen that treatise. The
name of the third piece is
” Canonotechnia, or concerning
the construction of tables by differences.“The book concludes with three small tracts,
” Concerning the descent
of bodies, the motion of pendulums in the cycloid, and the
motion of projectiles;“which tracts, the editor informs us,
were all composed by him when very young. He wrote
also
” A compendium of arithmetic, of the resolutions of
equations, of dioptrics, and of the nature of curves.“Besides these pieces, he drew up a course of
” Hydrostatical
and Pneumatical Lectures" in English, which were published by Dr. Smith in 1737, and again in 1747, 8vo.
urite recreations was angling, which led to an intimacy between him and honest Izaac Walton, whom he called his father. His house was situated on the banks of the Dove,
The only remaining production of our author is connected with his private history. One of his favourite recreations was angling, which led to an intimacy between him
and honest Izaac Walton, whom he called his father. His
house was situated on the banks of the Dove, a fine trout
stream, which divides the counties of Derby and Stafford.
Here he built a little fishing-house dedicated to anglers,
piscatoribus sacrum, over the door of which the initials of
the names of Cotton and Walton were united in a cypher.
The interior of this house was a cube of about fifteen feet,
paved with black and white marble, the walls wainscotted,
with painted pannels representing scenes of fishing; and
on the doors of the beaufet were the portraits of Cotton
and Walton. His partnership with Walton in this a Cement induced him to write “Instructions how to angle for
a Trout or Grayling, in a clear stream,
” which have since
been published as a second part, or supplement to Walton’s
“Complete Angler.
”
arly in life by his zeal for the conversion of protestants, and by his success in the pulpit. He was called to the court of Henry IV. at the instance of the famous Lesdiguieres,
, a Jesuit, born in
1564, at Neronde near the Loire, of which place his father was governor, distinguished himself early in life by
his zeal for the conversion of protestants, and by his success in the pulpit. He was called to the court of Henry
IV. at the instance of the famous Lesdiguieres, whom he
had converted, and the king pleased with his wit, manners,
and conversation, appointed him his confessor. M. Mercier censures the king, for “having too peculiar a
deference for this Jesuit, a man of very moderate talents, solely
attached to the narrow views of his order;
” and it was
commonly said, “Our prince is good, but he has cotton in
his ears.
” Henry was desirous of making him archbishop
of Aries, and procuring him a cardinal’s hat; but Cotton
persisted in refusing his offers. His brotherhood, after
their recall, unable easily to settle themselves in certain
towns, that of Poitiers especially, started great difficulties,
and Cotton wished to persuade the king that this opposition was the work of Sulli, governor of Poitou; but Henry
having refused to listen to this calumny, and blaming Cotton for having adopted it with too much credulity: “God
forbid,
” said Cotton, “that I should say any harm of those
whom your majesty honours with his confidence! But,
however, I am able to justify what I advance. I will
prove it by the letters of Sulli. I have seen them, and I
will shew them to your majesty.
” Next day, however,
he was under the necessity of telling the king that the letters had been burnt by carelessness. This circumstance is
related in the “Cours d'histoire de Condillac,
” tom. XIII.
p. 505. After the much lamented death of Henry, Cotton was confessor to his son Louis XIII, but the court
being a solitude to him, he asked permission to quit it, and
obtained it in 1617, so much the more easily as the duke
de Luynes was not very partial to him. Mezerai and other
historians relate, that when Ravaillac had committed his
parricide, Cotton went to him and said: “Take care that
you do not accuse honest men!
” There is room to suppose that his zeal for the honour of his society prompted
him to utter these indiscreet words, and his notions on the
subject appear to be rather singular. We are told that
Henry IV. having one day asked him, “Would you reveal the confession of a man resolved to assassinate me?
”
he answered “No; but I would put my body between
you and him.
” The Jesuit Santarelli having published a
work, in which he set up the power of the popes over that
of kings, Cotton, then provincial of Paris, was called to
the parliament the 13th of March 1626, to give an account
of the opinions of his brethren. He was asked whether
he thought that the pope can excommunicate and dispossess a king of France “Ah
” returned he, “the king
is eldest son of the church and he will never do any thing
to oblige tae pope to proceed to that extremity
” “But,
”
said the first president. “are you not of the same opinion
with your general, who attributes that power to the pope?
”
—“Our general follows the opinions of Rome where he is
and we, those of France where we are.
” The many disagreeable things experienced by Cotton on this occasion,
gave him so much uneasiness, that he fell sick, and died a
few days afterwards, March 19, 1626. He was then
preaching the Lent-discourses at Paris in the church of St.
Paul. This Jesuit wrote, “Traite du Sacrifice de la
Messe;
” “Geneve Plagiaire,
” Lyons, L'Institution Catholique,
” Sermons,
” La Rechute de Geneve Plagiaire;
” and other
things, among which is a letter declaratory of the doctrine
of the Jesuits, conformable to the doctrine of the council
of Trent, which gave occasion to the “Anti Cotton,
”
d been prodigally squandered, none pleased the king so much as the creating a new. order of knights, called baronets; and sir Robert Cotton, who had been the principal
, an eminent English
antiquary, “whose name,
” says Dr. Johnson, “must always be mentioned with honour, and whose memory cannot
fail of exciting the warmest sentiments of gratitude, whilst
the smallest regard for learning subsists among us,
” was
son of Thomas Cotton, esq. descended from a very ancient
family, and born at Denton in Huntingdonshire, Jan. 22,
1570; admitted of Trinity college, Cambridge, where he
took the degree of B. A. 1585; and went to London, where
he soon made himself known, and was admitted into a society of antiquaries, who met at stated seasons for their
own amusement. Here he indulged his taste in the prosecution of that study for which he afterwards became so
famous; and in his 18th year began to collect ancient records, charters, and other Mss. In 1600 he accompanied
Camden to Carlisle, who acknowledges himself not a little
obliged to him for the assistance he received from him in
carrying on and completing his “Britannia;
” and the
same year he wrote “A brief abstract of the question of
Precedency between England and Spain.
” This was
occasioned by queen Elizabeth’s desiring the thoughts of the
society of antiquaries upon that point, and is still extant
in the Cotton library. Upon the accession of James I. he
was created a knight; and during this reign was very much
courted and esteemed by the great men of the nation, and
consulted as an oracle by the privy counsellors and ministers of state, upon very difficult points relating to the constitution. In 1608 he was appointed one of the commissioners to inquire into the state of the navy, which had lain
neglected ever since the death of queen Elizabeth; and
drew up a memorial of their proceedings, to be presented
to the king, which memorial is still in his library. In 1609
he wrote “A discourse of the lawfulness of Combats to be
performed in the presence of the king, or the constable
and marshal of England,
” which was printed in An answer to
such motives as were offered by certain military men to
prince Henry, to incite him to affect arms more than
peace.
” This was composed by order of that prince, and
the original ms. remains in the Cotton library. New projects being contrived to repair the royal revenue, which
had been prodigally squandered, none pleased the king so
much as the creating a new. order of knights, called baronets; and sir Robert Cotton, who had been the principal
suggester of this scheme, was in 1611 chosen to be one,
being the thirty-sixth on the list. His principal residence
was then at Great Connington, in Huntingdonshire; which
he soon exchanged for Hatley St. George, in the county
of Cambridge.
call them, and to signify unto them to attend their cause in the star-chamber. They were personally called in before the lords (the king being gone) and acquainted by
The same, to the same, dated Nov. 9. "Yesterday his majesty was pleased to sit in council with all the board, and commanded that devilish project found upon sir Robert Cotton to be read over unto us. For my own part, I never heard a more pernicious diabolical device, to breed suspicious, seditious humours amongst the people. His majesty was pleased to declare his royal pleasure touching the lords and others restrained for communicating that project; which was, to proceed in a fair, moderate, mild, legal course with them, by a bill of information preferred into the star-chamber, whereunto they might make their answer by the help of the most learned counsel they could procure. And though his majesty had it in his power most justly and truly to restrain them till the cause was adjudged, yet, out of his princely clemency, he commanded the board to call them, and to signify unto them to attend their cause in the star-chamber. They were personally called in before the lords (the king being gone) and acquainted by the keeper with his majesty’s gracious favour. Two never spoke a word expressing thankfulness for his majesty’s so princely goodness; two expressed much thankfulness, which were my lord of Bedford and sir Robert Cotton. St. John and James are still in prison; and farther than unto these the paper reachetb not in direct travel, save to Selden, who is also contained in the bill of information. I tear the nature of that contagion did spread farther; but as yet no more appeareth. I am of opinion it will fall heavy on the parties delinquent.
y Mill to be 500 years old the 4th contains the Acts and Epistles, written in a modern hand the 5th, called likewise Sinaiticus, because Covel brought it from mount Sinai,
It has been objected that he ought to have published his report on his return, when public curiosity was eager for information; but he delayed it, for whatever reason, until the decline of life, and when public curiosity had much abated. It is thought also that he put many things into it, transcribed from his memoranda on the spot, which he would have suppressed had he undertaken to write his work sooner. Of his general accuracy, however, there can be no doubt; and as he had made use of several curious, and before unknown, Mss. he took care, for the reader’s satisfaction, to deposit them in the late earl of Oxford’s library at Wimple, near Cambridge; and some are now in the Harleian collection, in the British Museum, particularly five Mss. of different parts of the New Testament, which were collated by Mill. The 1st contains the four Gospels; the second is a manuscript of the Acts, Epistles, and Revelation, written in i-he year 1087: from several of its very extraordinary readings, it appears to be of no great value: the 3d has the Acts of the Apostles, beginning with chap. i. 11. with all the Epistles, and was supposed by Mill to be 500 years old the 4th contains the Acts and Epistles, written in a modern hand the 5th, called likewise Sinaiticus, because Covel brought it from mount Sinai, contains the Acts, Epistles, and Revelation; but it has been injured, and rendered illegible in many places, by the damp, which has had access to it. It begins with Acts i. 20. and the last lines of the book of Revelation are wanting. The first, second, and fourth, have been examined by Griesbach.
oints which had been discussed by the reformers abroad, and their usual place of meeting was a house called the White Horse, which their enemies nicknamed Germany, in allusion
, the pious and learned bishop
of Exeter in the reign of Edward VI. was born in Yorkshire in 1487, as appears by his age on his epitaph. He
was educated at Cambridge, in the house of the Augustine
friars, of which Dr. Barnes, afterwards one of the protestant martyrs, was then prior. One of his name took
the degree of bachelor of law in 1530, but Lewis thinks
this must have been too late for the subject of the present
article; yet it is not improbable it was the same, as he
appears to have been in Cambridge at that time. He afterwards, according to Godwin, who does not furnish the
date, received the degree of D. D. from the university of
Tubingen, and was, though late in life, admitted ad eundem at Cambridge. Being in his early years attached to
the religion in which he was brought up, he became an
Augustine monk. In 1514 he entered into holy orders,
being ordained at Norwich; but afterwards changing his
religious opinions, Bale says he was one of the first, who,
together with Dr. Robert Barnes, his quondam prior, taught
the purity of the gospel, and dedicated himself wholly to
the service of the reformation. About this time, probably
1530, or 1531, the reformed religion began to dawn at
Cambridge. Various eminent men, not only in the colleges, but monasteries, began to assemble for conference
on those points which had been discussed by the reformers
abroad, and their usual place of meeting was a house
called the White Horse, which their enemies nicknamed
Germany, in allusion to what was passing in that country;
and this house being contiguous to King’s, Queen’s, and
St. John’s colleges, many members of each could have
access unobserved. Among the names on record of these
early converts to protestantism, we find that of Coverdale.
In 1532 he appears to have been abroad, and assisted Tyndale in his translation of the Bible, and in 1535 his own
translation of the Bible appeared, with a dedication by
him to king Henry VIII. It formed a folio volume, printed,
as Humphrey Wanley thought, from the appearance of
the types, at Zurich, by Christopher Froschover. If so,
Coverdale must have resided there while it passed through
the press, as his attention to it was unremitting. He thus
had the honour of editing the first English Bible allowed
by royal authority, and the first translation of the whole
Bible printed in our language. It was called a special
translation, because it was different from the former English translations, as Lewis shews by comparing itwithTyndale’s; and the psalms in it are those now used in the Book
of Common Prayer. In 1538 a quarto New Testament, in
the Vulgate Latin, and in Coverdale’s English, though it
bore the name of Hollybushe, was printed with the king’s
licence, and has a dedication by Coverdale, in which he
says, “he does not doubt but such ignorant bodies as,
having cure of souls, are very unlearned in the Latin
tongue, shall, through this small labour, be occasioned to
attain unto more knowledge, or at least be constrained to
say well of the thing which heretofore they have blasphemed.
”
ut the avarice of the officer who superintended the burning of these “heretical books,” as they were called, induced him to sell some chests of them to a haberdasher for
About the end of this year we find Coverdale again
abroad on the business of a new edition of the Bible, on
which occasion an event happened which shewed the vigilance and jealousy of the Romanists with respect to vernacular translations. Grafton, the celebrated pri liter, had
permission from Francis I. king of France, at the request
of king Henry himself, to print a Bible at Paris, on account of the superior skill of the workmen, and the comparative goodness and cheapness of the paper. But, notwithstanding the royal licence, the inquisition interposed
by an instrument dated Dec. 17, 1538. The Frenchprinters, their English employers, and our Coverdale, who
was the corrector of the press, were summoned by the
inquisitors; and the impression, consisting of 2500 copies,
was seized and condemned-to the flames. But the avarice
of the officer who superintended the burning of these
“heretical books,
” as they were called, induced him to
sell some chests of them to a haberdasher for the purpose
of wrapping his wares, and thus some copies were preserved. The English proprietors, who fled at the alarm,
returned to Paris when it-subsided; and not only recovered
some of those copies which had escaped the fire, but
brought with them to London the presses, types, and
printers. This valuable importation enabled Grafton and
Whitchurch to print in 1539, what is called Cranmer’s,
or the “Great Bible,
” in which Coverdale compared the
translation with the Hebrew, corrected it in many places,
and was the chief overseer of the work. Dr. Fulk, who was
one of Coverdale’s hearers when he preached at St. Paul’s
Cross, informs us that he took an opportunity in his sermon to defend his translation against some slanderous reports then raised against it, confessing-, “that he himself
now saw some faults, which, if he might review the book
once again, as he had twice before, he doubted not he
should amend: but for any heresy, he was sure that there
was none maintained in his translation.
” In all these labours Coverdale found a liberal patron in Thomas lord
Cromwell.
d notwithstanding his hospitality, charity, and humility, the enemies of the new religion, as it was called, took every opportunity to thwart his endeavours, and to misrepresent
In his diocese he exerted himself to promote the reformed religion, and as he was not technically versed in civil and ecclesiastical law, which he wished to be executed with justice and equity, he applied to the university of Oxford for a competent person to be chancellor of his diocese; and Dr. Robert Weston, afterwards lord chancellor in Ireland*, being recommended, he invested him ivith full ecclesiastical jurisdiction, allowing him not only all the fees of office, but a house for him and his family, with proper attendants, and a salary of 40l. per annum. Yet, notwithstanding the integrity of his chancellor’s conduct, and his own endeavours to promote religion, by preaching constantly every Sunday and holy day, and by a divinity lecture twice a week in one or other of the churches of Exeter, and notwithstanding his hospitality, charity, and humility, the enemies of the new religion, as it was called, took every opportunity to thwart his endeavours, and to misrepresent his conduct, all which, however, during the reign of Edward VI. gave him but little disturbance.
n that in 1554 Coverdale was preacher to a congregation of exiled protestants at Wesel, until he was called by the duke of Deux Fonts, to be preacher at Bergzabern . On
On the accession of queen Mary, and the consequent
re-establishment of popery, he was ejected from the see
and thrown into prison, out of which he was released after
two years confinement, at the earnest request of the king
of Denmark. Coverdale and Dr. John Machabseus, chap* Dr. Weston does not occur in Le Neve’s List of Chancellors, bu.1 there can
be no doubt of the fact.
lain to that monarch, had married sisters, and it was at
his chaplain’s request that the king interposed, but was
obliged to send two or three letters be Core he could accomplish his purpose. By one of these, dated April 25,
1554, it would appear that Coverdale was imprisoned in
consequence of being concerned in an insurrection against
the queen, but this is not laid to his charge in the queen’s
answer, who only pretended that he was indebted to her
concerning his bishopric. As the first fruits had been forgiven by Edward VI. this must be supposed to allude to his
tenths; and Coverdale’s plea, as appears by the king of
Denmark’s second letter, was, that he had not enjoyed the
bishopric long enough to be enabled to pay the queen.
This second letter bears date Sept. 24, 1554, and, according to Strype, the queen’s grant of his request was not
given till Feb. 18, 1555. Strype, therefore, from his own
evidence, is erroneous in his assertion that in 1554 Coverdale was preacher to a congregation of exiled protestants
at Wesel, until he was called by the duke of Deux Fonts,
to be preacher at Bergzabern . On his release, which
was on the condition of banishing himself, he repaired to
the court of Denmark, where the king would fain have
detained him, but as he was not so well acquainted with
the language as to preach in Danish, he preferred going to
the places above mentioned, where he could preach with
facility in Dutch; and there and at Geneva he passed his
time, partly in teaching and partly in preaching. He also,
while here, joined some other English exiles, Goodman,
Gilby, Whittingham, Sampson, Cole, &c. in that translation of the Bible usually called the “Geneva translation;
”
part of which, the New Testament, was printed at Geneva,
by Conrad Badius, in 1557, and again in 1560, in which
last year the whole Bible was printed in the same place
by Rowland Harte. Of this translation, which had explanatory notes, and therefore was much used in private
families, there were above thirty editions in folio, quarto,
and octavo, mostly printed in England by the king’s and
queen’s printers, from the year 1560 to 1616. On the
accession of queen Elizabeth, he returned from his exile,
but, unfortunately for the church, had imbibed the principles of the Geneva reformers, as far as respected the
ecclesiastical habits and ceremonies. In 1559, however,
we find him taking his turn as preacher at St. Paul’s Cross,
and he assisted also at the consecration of archbishop Parker, in which ceremony, although he performed the functions of a bishop, he wore only a long black cloth gown.
This avowed non-compliance with the habits and ceremonies prevented his resuming his bishopric, or any preferment being for some time offered to him. In 1563
bishop Grindal recommended him to the bishopric of Llandaff; and in 1564, Coverdale had the honour to admit that
prelate to his doctor’s degree, by a mandate from the vicechancellor of Cambridge, a proof that he was still in high
estimation. Grindal, particularly, had a great regard for
him, and was very uneasy at his want of preferment. On
one occasion he exclaimed, “I cannot excuse us bishops.
”
He also applied to the secretary of state, “telling him,
that surely it was not well that father Coverdale,
” as he
styled him, “qui ante nos omnes fuit in Christo,
” “who
was in Christ before us all,
” should be now in his age without stay of living.“It was on this occasion that Grindal
recommended him to the bishopric of Llandaff, as already
noticed, but it is supposed Coverdale’s age and infirmities,
and the remains of the plague, from which he had just
recovered, made him decline so great a charge. In lieu
of it, however, the bishop collated him to the rectory of
St. Magnus, London Bridge; and here again the good
man’s poverty presented an obstruction, as appears from
some affecting letters he wrote to be excused from the
first fruits, amounting to 60l. which he was utterly incapable of paying: one of these letters, in which he mentions his age, and the probability of not enjoying the preferment long, he concludes with these words:
” If poor
old Miles might be thus provided for, he should think
this enough to be as good as a feast." His request being
granted, he entered upon his charge, and preached about
two years; but resigned it in 1566, a little before his
death. He was very much admired by the puritans, who
flocked to him in great numbers while he officiated at St.
Magnus’s church, which he did without the habits, and
when he had resigned it, for it does not appear that he was
deprived of it, as Neal asserts, his followers were obliged
to send to his house on Saturdays, to know where they
might hear him the next day, which he declined answering lest he should give offence to government. Yet, according to Strype, he had little to fear; for, Fox, Humphrey, Sampson, and others of the same way of thinking,
were not only connived at, but allowed to hold preferments.
He died, according to Richardson in his edition of
Godwin, May 20, 1565 and according to Neal in his History of the Puritans, May 20, 1567 but both are wrong.
The parish register proves that he was buried Feb. 19, 1568,
in the chancel of the church of St. Bartholomew, Exchange, with the following inscription on his tombstone,
which was destroyed at the great fire along with the church.
h-lane, where they lived together, following for some time the business of making what were commonly called French hoods, much worn in those days and long after, which
, the son of a tailor at Menin, was one of many who experienced the oppression of Olivarez duke of Alva, who, being appointed by Philip II. governor of the seventeen provinces, endeavoured, with execrable policy, to establish over all the Netherlands an irreligious and horrible court of judicature, on the model of the Spanish inquisition. By consequence, in 1567, great numbers of industrious, thriving, and worthy people were imprisoned by the rigorous orders of this petty tyrant, and treated with great injustice and cruelty. Courten had the good fortune to escape from prison; and in the year following, 1568, arrived safe in London, with his wife Margaret Casiere, a daughter named Margaret, her husband, son of a mercantile broker at Antwerp of the name of Boudean, and as much property as they could hastily collect under such disadvantages. Soon after their arrival, they took a house in Abchurch-lane, where they lived together, following for some time the business of making what were commonly called French hoods, much worn in those days and long after, which they vended in wholesale to the shopkeepers who sold them in retail. Encouraged by great success in this employment, they soon removed to a larger house in Pudding-lane or Love-lane, in the parish of St. Mary Hill, where they entered on a partnership trade, in silks, fine linens, and such articles as they had dealt in before when in Flanders. Michael Boudean, the daughter Margaret’s husband, died first, leaving behind him, unfortunately for the family, a son and only child, named Peter, after an uncle certainly not much older than himself. The widow married John Money, a merchant in London, who instantly became an inmate with the family, which was moreover increased by the parents themselves, with two sons, William, born in 1572, and Peter, born in 1581. The young men, being instructed in reading, writing, and arithmetic, were early initiated in business, and soon after sent abroad as factors for the family: William to Haerlem, Peter to Cologne, and Peter Boudean the grandchild to Middleburg. At what time William Courten and Margaret Casiere died is at present uncertain most probably their deaths happened about the end of queen Elizabeth’s, or in the beginning of king James’s reign; but it seems certain, that they left their descendants not only in easy, but even in affluent circumstances. At the following aera of this little history it does not appear clearly, whether the old people were actually dead, or had only declined all farther active, responsible concern in business: but, in 1606, William and Peter Courtens entered into partnership with John Money, their sister Margaret’s second husband, to trade in silks and fine linen. Two parts, or the moiety of the joint stock, belonged to William Courten, and to each of the others, Peter Courten and John Money, a fourth share. As for Peter Boudean, the son of Margaret Courten by her first husband, he seems to have been employed to negotiate for the partnership at Middleburg on some stipulated or discretionary salary; for it does not appear that he had any certain or determinate share in the trade, which was carried on prosperously till 1631, with a return, it is said, one year with another, of 150,000l. During the course of this copartnership, there is nothing upon record unfavourable to the character of John Money. The characters too of William and Peter Courtens appear unexceptionable, fair, and illustrious. They prospered, it seems, remarkably in all their undertakings, for twenty years and more; in the course of which time they were both dignified with the honours of knighthood.
great insurer, and besides that, a very considerable goldsmith, or banker, for so a banker was then called. It appears likewise, that he was very deeply engaged in a herring
Sir William Courten, after the death of his Dutch lady, married a second wife of the name of Tryon, by whom he had one son, named William, and three daughters. Sir William seems to have been possessed of a comprehensive mind, an enterprising spirit, abundance of wealth, and credit sufficient to enable him to launch out into any promising branch of trade and merchandize whatsoever. It is stated, with apparent fairness, that he actually lent to king James I. and his son Charles I. at different times, of his own money, or from the company trade, 27,000l. and in another partnership wherein he was likewise concerned with sir Paul Pyndar, their joint claims on the crown amounted, it seerns, to 200,000l. Sir William employed, one way or other, for many years, between four and five thousand seamen; he built above twenty ships of burthen; was a great insurer, and besides that, a very considerable goldsmith, or banker, for so a banker was then called. It appears likewise, that he was very deeply engaged in a herring fishery, which was carried on at one time with great spirit and at great expence: but shortly after, much to his cost, it came to nothing, in consequence of the supervening dissensions, confusion, and misery, that accompanied the rebellion. Previous to this, however, about the year 1624, two of sir William Courten’s ships, in their return from Fernambuc, happened to discover an uninhabited island, now of considerable importance to Great Britain, to which sir William first gave the name of Barbadoes. On the 25th of February 1627, he obtained the king’s letters patent for the colonization of this island, sheltering himself, for whatever reasons, under the earl of Pembroke. On the faith of this grant, afterwards superseded by the influence of James then earl of Carlisle, though its validity was acknowledged by the first, and indeed by all the lawjers, sir William sent two ships with men, arms, ammunition, &c. which soon stored the island with inhabitants, English, Indians, &c. to the number of one thousand eight hundred and fifty; and one captain Powel received from sir William a commission to remain in the island as governor, in behalf of him and the earl of Pembroke. After sir William had expended 44,000l. on this business, and been in peaceable possession of the island about three years, James earl of Carlisle claiming on grants said to be prior, though dated July 2, 1627, and April 7, 1628; affirming too that he was lord of all the Caribbee islands lying between 10 and 20 degrees of latitude, under the name of Carliola, gave his commission to colonel Royden, Henry Hawley, and others, to act in his behalf. The commissioners of lord Carlisle arrived at Barbadoes with two ships in 1629, and having invited the governor captain Powel on board, they kept him prisoner, and proceeded to invade and plunder the island. They carried off the factors and servants of sir William Courten and the earl of Pembroke, and established the earl of Carlisle’s authority in Barbadoes; which continued there under several governors, till 1646, when the government of it was vested by lease and contract in lord Willoughby of Parham. Sir William Courten, it is said, had likewise sustained a considerable loss several years before this blow in the West Indies, by the seizure of his merchandize, after the cruel massacre of his factors at Amboyna in the East Indies. But after all the losses above mentioned, he was still possessed, in the year 1633, of lands in various parts of this kingdom to the value of 6 500l. per annum, besides personal estates rated at 128,Ogo/. and very extensive credit. Such were his circumstances when he opened a trade to China, and, as if he had grown* young again, embarked still more deeply in mercantile expeditions to the East Indies, where he established sundry new forts and factories. In the course of this new trade he lost unfortunately two of his ships richly laden, the Dragon and the Katharine, which were never heard of more: and he himself did not long survive this loss, which involved him in great debt; for he died in the end of May or beginning of June 1636, in the 64th year of his age, and was buried in the church or church-yard of St. Andrew Hubbard, the ground of both which was after the fire of 1666 disposed of by the city for public uses, and partly laid into the street, the parish being annexed to St. Mary Hill. There is an abstract of sir William Courten’s will in the British Museum.
archbishop affirmed, could long endure, if vice ruled in it, to remedy which evil the parliament was called, the laws then in being not having been found effectual to that
In the Parliamentary History, some notice is taken of the speech which, as chancellor of England, Courtney made at the opening of the parliament in 1382. The words which he took for his theme were rex convenire fecit cojisitium, and it is said that he made a notable oration upon it in English. He applied his text to the good and virtuous government of the kingdom during his reign. No reign, the archbishop affirmed, could long endure, if vice ruled in it, to remedy which evil the parliament was called, the laws then in being not having been found effectual to that purpose.
th these pieces appeared in 1703. Mr. Turner’s publication was answered by Dr. Coward, in a pamphlet called” Farther Thoughts upon Second Thoughts,“in which he acknowledges,
, a medical and metaphysical
writer, was the son of Mr. William Coward of Winchester,
where he was born in the year 1656 or 1657. It is not
certain where young Coward received his grammatical
education; but it was probably at Winchester-school. In
his eighteenth year he was removed to Oxford, and in May
1674 became a commoner of Hart-hall; the inducement to
which might probably be, that his uncle was at the head of
that seminary. However, he did not long continue there;
for in the year following he was admitted a scholar of
Wadham college. On the 27th of June, 1677, betook
the degree of B. A. and in January 1680 he was chosen
probationer fellow of Merton college. In the year 1681,
was published Mr. Dvyden’s Absalom and Achitophel, a
production on the celebrity of which we need not expatiate.
At Oxford it could not fail to be greatly admired for its
poetical merit; besjde which, it might be the better received
on account of its containing a severe satire on the duke of
Monmouth and the earl of Sbftftesboryj two men who were
certainly no favourites with tnat loyal university. Accordingly, the admiration of the poem produced two Latin
versions of it, both of which were written and printed at Oxford; one by Mr. Francis Atterbury (afterwards the celebrated bishop of Rochester), who was assisted in it by Mr.
Francis Hickman, a student of Christchurch; and the
other by Mr. Coward. These translations were published
in quarto, in 1682. Whatever proof Mr. Coward’s version
of the Absalom and Achitophel might afford oi“his progress
in classical literature, he was not very fortunate in this first
publication. It was compared with Mr. Atterbury’s production, not a little to its disadvantage. According to
Anthony Wood, he was schooled for it in the college; it
was not well received in the university; and Atterbury’s
poem was extolled as greatly superior. To conceal, in
some degree, Mr. Coward’s mortification, a friend of his,
in a public paper, advertised the translation, as written by
a Walter Curie, of Hertford, gentleman; yet Coward’s
version was generally mistaken for Atterbury’s, and a specimen given of it in Stackhouse’s life of that prelate. On
the 13th of December, 1683, Mr. Coward was admitted to
the degree of M.A. Having determined to apply himself
to the practice of medicine, he prosecuted his studies in
that science, and took the degree of bachelor of physic on
the 23d of June 1685, and of doctor on the 2,d of July 1687.
After his quitting Oxford he exercised his profession at
Northampton, from which place he removed to London in 1693
or 1694, and settled in Lombard-street. In 1695 he published
a tract in 8vo, entitled
” De fermento volatili nutritio conjectura rationis, qua ostenditur spiritum volatilemoleosum, e
sanguine suffusurn, esse verum ac genuinum concoctionis ac
nutritionis instrumentum.“For this work he^iad an honourable approbation from the president and censors of the
college of physicians. But it was not to medical studies
only that Dr. Coward confined his attention. Besides being fond of polite learning, he entered deeply into metaphysical speculations, especially with regard to the nature
of the soul, and the natural immortality of man. The result of his inquiries was his publication, in 1702, under the
fictitious name of Estibius Psycalethes, entitled
” Second
Thoughts concerning Human Soul, demonstrating the notion
of human soul, as believed to be a spiritual immortal substance united to a human body, to be a plain heathenish
invention, and not consonant to the principles of philosophy, reason, or religion; but the ground only of many
absurd and superstitious opinions, abominable to the
reformed church, and derogatory in general to true Christianity.“This work was dedicated by the doctor to the
clergy of the church of England; and he professes at his
setting out,
” that the main stress of arguments, either to
confound or support his opinion, must be drawn from those
only credentials of true and orthodox divinity, the lively
oracles of God, the Holy Scriptures.“In another part, in
answer to the question, Does man die like a brute beast?
he says,
” Yes, in respect to their end in this life; both
their deaths consist in a privation of life.“” But then,“he adds,
” man has this prerogative or pre-eminence above
a brute, that he will be raised to life again, and be made
partaker of eternal happiness in the world to come.“Notwithstanding these professions to the authority of the Christian Scriptures, Dr. Coward has commonly been ranked
with those who have been reputed to be the most rancorous
and determined adversaries of Christianity. Swift has
ranked him with Toland, Tindal, and Gildon; and passages to the like purpose are not unfrequent among controversial writers, especially during the former part of the
last century. His denial of the immateriality and natural
immortality of the soul, and of a separate state of existence
between the time of death and the general resurrection, was
so contrary to universal opinion, that it is not very surprising that he should be considered as an enemy to revelation. It might be expected that he would immediately
meet with opponents; and accordingly he was attacked by
various writers of different complexions and abilities;
among whom were Dr. Nichols, Mr. John Broughton, and.
Mr. John Turner. Dr. Nichols took up the argument in
his
” Conference with a Theist.“Mr. Broughton wrote a
treatise entitled
” Psychologia, or, an Account of the nature of the rational Soul, in two parts;“and Mr. Turner
published a
” Vindication of the separate existence of the
Soul from a late author’s Second Thoughts.“Both these
pieces appeared in 1703. Mr. Turner’s publication was
answered by Dr. Coward, in a pamphlet called
” Farther
Thoughts upon Second Thoughts,“in which he acknowledges, that in Mr. Turner he had a rational and candid
adversary. He had not the same opinion of Mr. Broughton who therefore was treated by him with severity, in
” An Epistolary Reply to Mr. Broughton’s Psychologia;“which reply was not separately printed, but annexed to a
work of the doctor’s, published in the beginning of the
year 1704, and entitled,
” The Grand Essay or, a Vindication of Reason and Religion against the impostures of
Philosophy." In this last production, the idea of the human soul’s being an immaterial substance was again vigorously attacked.
two books. Sufficient proof having been produced with respect to the writer of them, Dr. Coward was called in. Being examined accordingly, he acknowledged that he was
So obnoxious were Dr. Coward’s positions, that on Friday, March 10, 1704, a complaint was made to the house
of commons of the “Second Thoughts
” and the “Grand
Essay;
” which books were brought up to the table, and
some parts of them read. The consequence of this was,
an order, “that a committee be appointed to examine
the said books, and collect such parts thereof as are offensive; and to examine who is the author, printer, and publisher thereof.
” At the same time the matter was referred
to a committee, who were directed to meet that afternoon,
and had power given them to send for persons, papers, and
records. On the 17th of March, Sir David Cullum, the
chairman, reported from the committee, that they had
examined the books, and had collected out of them several
passages which they conceived to be offensive, and that
they found that Dr. Coward was the author of them; that
Mr. David Edwards was the printer of the one, and Mr.
W. Pierson of the other; and that both the books were
published by Mr. Basset. Sir David Cullum having read
the report in his place, and the same being read again,
after it had been delivered in at the clerks’ table, the
house proceeded to the examination of the evidence with
regard to the writing, printing, and vending of the two
books. Sufficient proof having been produced with respect to the writer of them, Dr. Coward was called in.
Being examined accordingly, he acknowledged that he was
the author of the books, and declared that he never intended any thing against religion; that there was nothing
contained in them contrary either to morality or religion;
and that if there were any thin^ therein contrary to religion or morality, he was heartily sorry, and ready to recant the same. The house then resolved, “that the said
books do contain therein divers doctrines and positions contrary to the doctrine of the church of England, and tending
to the subversion of the Christian religion;
” and ordered
that they should be burnt, next day, by the common hangman, in New Palace-yard, Westminster; which order was
carried into execution. Notwithstanding this proceeding,
in the course of the same year he published a new edition
of his “Second Thoughts;
” which was followed by a treatise, entitled, “The just Scrutiny; or, a serious inquiry
into the modern notions of the Soul.
”
le he was at Westminster, and dedicated in a copy of verses to sir Kenelm Digby; and a Latin comedy, called “Naufragium Joculare,” or “The merry Shipwreck,” after it had
In 1633, being still at Westminster, and only fifteen
years of age, he published a collection of poems, under
the title of “Poetical Blossoms;
” in which, says Sprat,
there were many things that might well become the vigour
and force of a manly wit. Of these his Pyramus and Thisbe
was written at ten, and his Constantia and Philetus, at
twelve years old. Cowley tells us of himself, that he had
so defective a memory at that time, that he never could
be brought to retain the ordinary rules of grammar; however, as Sprat observes, he abundantly supplied that want,
by conversing with the books themselves, from whence
those rules had been drawn. He was removed in 1636
from Westminster to Trinity-college, in Cambridge, where
he wrote some, and laid the designs of most of those masculine works which he afterwards published. In 1638 he
published his “Love’s Riddle,
” a pastoral comedy, which
was written while he was at Westminster, and dedicated
in a copy of verses to sir Kenelm Digby; and a Latin comedy, called “Naufragium Joculare,
” or “The merry
Shipwreck,
” after it had been acted before the university
by the members of Trinity college.
s. 3. Pindaric Odes. 4. “Davideis.” The “Mistress” had been published in his absence, and his comedy called “The Guardian,” afterwards altered and published under the title
In 1656 he was sent over into England, with all imaginable secrecy, to take cognizance of the state of affairs
here; but soon after his arrival, while he lay hid in London,
he was seized on by a mistake, the search having been intended after another gentleman of considerable note in the
king’s party. He was often examined before the usurpers,
who tried all methods to make him serviceable to their
purposes; but proving inflexible, he was committed to
close imprisonment, and scarce at last obtained his liberty
upon the terms of 1000l. bail, which was tendered by Dr.
Scarborough. Thus he continued a prisoner at large, till
the general redemption; yet, taking the opportunity of
the confusions that followed upon Cromwell’s death, he ventured back into France, and there remained in the same
situation as before, till' near the time of the king’s return.
Upon his return to England, in 1656, he published a new
edition of all his poems, consisting of four parts; viz. 1.
Miscellanies. 2. The Mistress. 3. Pindaric Odes. 4. “Davideis.
” The “Mistress
” had been published in his absence, and his comedy called “The Guardian,
” afterwards
altered and published under the title of “Cutter of
Coleman-street,
” but both very incorrectly. In the preface to his poems, he complains of the publication of some
things of his, without his consent or knowledge; and those
very mangled and imperfect, particularly of the “Guardian,
” already noticed. In this preface also he seems to
have inserted something suppressed in subsequent editions,
which was interpreted to denote some relaxation of his
loyalty. He declares, that “his desire had been for some
days past, and did still very vehemently continue, to retire
himself to some of the American plantations, and to forsake
this world for ever.
” From the obloquy which the appearance of submission to the usurpers brought upon him, Dr.
Sprat and Dr. Johnson have successfully laboured to clear
him, and indeed it does not seem to have lessened his reputation. His wish for retirement, says Dr. Johnson, we
can easily believe to be undissembled; a man harassed in
one kingdom, and persecuted in another, who, after a
course of business that employed all his days and half his
nights in cyphering and deciphering, comes to his own
country and steps into a prison, will be willing enough to
retire to some place of quiet and safety. As to the verses
on Oliver’s death, which Ant. Wood seems to hint were of
the encomiastic kind, no judgment can be formed, since
they have not been published. There is, indeed, a discourse concerning his government, with verses intermixed,
but such as certainly gained its author no friends among
the abettors of usurpation.
pears, however, that he made so great a proficiency in the study of the law, that, soon after he was called to the bar, he was chosen recorder of Colchester, and in the
, earl Cowper, lord high chancellor of Great Britain, was descended from an ancient family, and son to sir William Cowper, baronet, and member of parliament for the town of Hertford in the reigns of Charles II. and William III. He is supposed to have been born in the castle of Hertford, of which his family had been a considerable time in possession; but of the place or time of his birth, or where he was educated, we have not been able to obtain any certain information. It appears, however, that he made so great a proficiency in the study of the law, that, soon after he was called to the bar, he was chosen recorder of Colchester, and in the reign of king William he was appointed one of his majesty’s council. In 1695 he was chosen one of the representatives in parliament for the town of Hertford, and on the day he took his seat had occasion to speak three times, with great applause. The following year he appeared as counsel for the crown on the trials of sir William Perkins, and others, who were convicted of high treason, for being concerned in the plot to assassinate king William. He was also counsel for the crown on the trial of captain Thomas Vaughan, for high treason on the high seas; and he likewise supported in parliament the bill of attainder against sir John Fenwick. In 1704, in a speech in the house of commons, in the famous case of Ashby and White, he maintained that an action did lie at common law, for an elector who had been denied his vote for members of parliament. His reputation continuing greatly to increase, on the accession of queen Anne he was again appointed one of the counsel to the crown; and on October 11, 1705, he was constituted lord keeper of the great seal of England. A few days after, queen Anne addressed both houses of parliament in a speech, which was well received, and which was said to be written by the new lord keeper.
n the day, so anxiously dreaded, arrived, he was unable to make the experiment. The very friends who called on him for the purpose of attending him to the house of lords
Unfit as he was, from extreme diffidence, to advance in
his profession, his family interest procured him a situation
which seemed not ill adapted to gratify his very moderate
ambition, while it did not much interfere with his reluctance to public life. In his 34th year he was nominated
to the offices of reading clerk and clerk of the private
committees of the house of lords. But in this arrangement
his friends were disappointed. It presented to his
the formidable danger of reading in public, which was next
to speaking in public: his native modesty, therefore, recoiled at the thought, and he resigned the office. On this
his friends procured him the place of clerk of the journals
to the house of lords, the consequence of which is thus
related by Mr. Hayley: “It was hoped, from the change
of his station, that his personal appearance in parliament might not be required; but a parliamentary dispute
made it necessary for him to appear at the bar of the
house of lords, to entitle himself publicly to the office.
Speaking of this important incident in a sketch, which
he once formed himself, of passages in his early life, he
expresses what he endured at the time, in these remarkable words: ‘ They, whose spirits are formed like mine,
to whom a public exhibition of themselves is mortal poison,
may have some idea of the horrors of my situation; others
can have none.’ His terrors on this occasion arose to such
an astonishing height, that they utterly overwhelmed his
reason: for although he had endeavoured to prepare himself for his public duty, by attending closely at the office
for several months, to examine the parliamentary journals,
his application was rendered useless by that excess of diffidence, which made him conceive, that, whatever knowledge he might previously acquire, it would all forsake
him at the bar of the house. This distressing apprehension increased to such a degree, as the time for his
appearance approached, that when the day, so anxiously
dreaded, arrived, he was unable to make the experiment.
The very friends who called on him for the purpose of
attending him to the house of lords acquiesced in the cruel
necessity of his relinquishing the prospect of a station so
severely formidable to a frame of such singular sensibility.
The conflict between the wishes of just affectionate ambition, and the terrors of diffidence, so entirely overwhelmed
his health and faculties, that after two learned and benevolent divines (Mr. John Cowper, his brother, and the celebrated Mr. Martin Madan, his first cousin), had vainly
endeavoured to establish a lasting tranquillity in his mind,
by friendly and religious conversation, it was found necessary to remove him to St. Alban’s, where he resided a considerable time, under the care of that eminent physician
Dr. Cotton.
”
express an anxious desire for the sight of a letter written by Cowper, in a situation that must have called forth all the finest powers of his eloquence as a monitor and
In this year, when he was beginning his translation of
Homer, the quiet and even tenour of his life was disturbed
by the necessity he felt of parting with lady Austen. A
short extract from Mr. Hayley will give this matter as clear
explanation as delicacy can permit: “Delightful and advantageous as his friendship with lady Austen had proved,
he now began to feel that it grew -impossible to preserve
that triple cord, which his own pure heart had led him to
suppose not speedily to be broken. Mrs. Unwin, though
by no means destitute of mental accomplishments, was
eclipsed by the brilliancy of the poet’s new friend, and
naturally became uneasy, under the apprehension of being
so, for to a woman of sensibility, what evil can be more
afflicting, than the fear of losing all mental influence over
a man of genius and virtue, whom she has long been accustomed to inspirit and to guide? Cowper perceived
the painful necessity of sacrificing a great portion of his
present gratifications. He felt, that he must relinquish
that ancient friend, whom he regarded as a venerable parent; or the new associate, whom he idolized as a sister of
a heart and mind peculiarly C9ngenial to his own. His
gratitude for past services of unexampled magnitude and
weight, would not allow him to hesitate: with a resolution
and delicacy, that do the highest honour to his feelings,
he wrote a farewell letter to lady Austen, explaining and
lamenting the circumstances that forced him to renounce
the society of a friend, whose enchanting talents and kindness had proved so agreeably instrumental to the revival
of his spirits and to the exercise of his fancy. In those
very interesting conferences with which I was honoured
by lady Austen, I was irresistibly led to express an anxious
desire for the sight of a letter written by Cowper, in a
situation that must have called forth all the finest powers
of his eloquence as a monitor and a friend. The lady
confirmed me in my opinion that a more admirable letter
could not be written; and had it existed at that time, I
am persuaded from her noble frankness and zeal for the
honour of the departed poet, she would have given me a
oopy; but she ingenuously confessed, that in a moment of
natural mortification, she burnt this very tender yet resolute letter. Had it been confided to my care, I am persuaded I should have thought it very proper for publication, as it displayed both the tenderness and the magnanimity of Cowper, nor could I have deemed it a want of
delicacy towards the memory of lady Austen, to exhibit a
proof, that animated by the warmest admiration of the
great poet, whose fancy slie could so successfully call
forth, she was willing to devote her life and fortune to his
service and protection. The sentiment is to be regarded
as honourable to the lady; it is still more honourable to
the poet, that with such feelings as rendered him perfectly
sensible of all lady Austen’s fascinating powers, he could
return her tenderness with innocent gallantry, and yet resolutely preclude himself from her society when he could
no longer enjoy it without appearing deficient in gratitude
towards the compassionate and generous guardian of his
sequestered life. No person can justly blame Mrs. Unwin
for feeling apprehensive that Cowper’s intimacy with a
lady of such extraordinary talents, might lead him into
perplexities, of which he was by no means aware. This
remark was suggested by a few elegant and tender verses,
addressed by the poet to lady Austen, and shown to me by
that lady. Those who were acquainted with the unsuspecting innocence, and sportive gaiety of Cowper,
would readily allow, if they had seen the verses to which
I allude, that they are such as he might have addressed to
a real sister; but a lady only called by that endearing
name, may be easily pardoned if she was induced by them
to hope, that they might possibly be a prelude to a still
dearer alliance. To me they appeared expressive of that
peculiarity in his character, a gay and tender gallantry,
perfectly distinct from arr-orous attachment. If the lady,
who was the subject of the verses, had given them to me
with a permission to print them, I should have thought the
poet himself might have approved of their appearance, accompanied with such a commentary.
”
anted him, by patent, the office of master of the grammar-school of Reading, with a certain tenement called “a scole-house,” with a stipend of ten pounds, issuing out of
In 1541, Henry VIII. granted him, by patent, the office
of master of the grammar-school of Reading, with a certain tenement called “a scole-house,
” with a stipend of
ten pounds, issuing out of the manor of Cholsey, belonging to the late dissolved monastery of Reading. A few
years after he had obtained this patent, which he appears,
to have had the power of assigning during his life, he
quitted Reading, and travelled over great part of the continent, teaching the learned languages. Leland, in some
Latin verses, among his “Encomia,
” addressed to Cox,
speaks of his visiting the universities of Prague, Paris, and
Cracow, and that he was known to Melancthon, who was
Greek professor at Wittemberg. In the latter part of his
life he kept a school at Caer-leon, and is said to have
survived until the reign of Edward VI. Bale says that he was
instructed in all the liberal arts, that he was a grammarian,
a rhetorician, and a poet; a sound divine, and a diligent
preacher of God’s word. It is needless after this to add
that he was of the reformed religion. In Edward Vlth’s
time, he was one of the licensed preachers.
seneschal, and continued it three years, and was entered of Gray’s Inn in 1671, with a view of being called to the bar. Here he was so much distinguished for his great
, bart. lord chancellor of Ireland,
and author of a history of that kingdom, was son to Richard
Cox, esq. captain of a troop of horse, and was born at
Bandon, in the county of Cork, on the 25th of March
1650. He had the misfortune to become an orphan before
he was full three years of age and was then taken care of
by his mother’s father, Walter Bird, esq. of Cloghnakilty.
But his grandfather also dying when he was about nine
years old^ he was then taken under the protection of his
uncle, John Bird, esq. who placed him at an ordinary
Latin school at Cloghnakiity, where he soon discovered a
strong inclination to learning. In 1668, in his eighteenth
year, he began to practise as an attorney in several manor
courts where his uncle was seneschal, and continued it
three years, and was entered of Gray’s Inn in 1671, with
a view of being called to the bar. Here he was so much
distinguished for his great assiduity and consequent improvement, that in the summer of 1673 he was made one
of the surveyors at sir Robert Shaftoe’s reading. He soon
after married a lady who had a right to a considerable fortune; but, being disappointed in obtaining it, he took a
farm near Cloghnakiity, to which he retired for seven
years. Being at length roused from his lethargy by a great
increase of his family, he was, hy the interest of sir Robert Southwell, elected recorder of Kinsale in 1680. He
now removed to Cork; where he practised the law with
great success. But, foreseeing the storm that was going
to fall on the protestants, he quitted his practice, and his
estate, which at that time amounted to 300l. per ann. and
removed with his wife and five children to England, and
settled at Bristol. At this place he obtained sufficient
practice to support his family genteelly, independently of
his Irish estate; and at his leisure hours compiled the
History of Ireland;“the first part of which he published
soon after the revolution, in 1689, under the title of
” Hibernia Anglicana; or the History of Ireland, from the
conquest thereof by the English to the 'present time."
When the prince of Orange arrived in London, Mr. Cox
quitted Bristol, and repaired to the metropolis, where he
was made undersecretary of state. Having given great satisfaction to the king in the discharge of this office, Mr. Cox
was immediately after the surrender of Waterford made
recorder of that city. On the 15th of September 1690, he
was appointed second justice of the court of common
pleas. In April 1691 Mr. Justice Cox was made governor
of the county and city of Cork. His situation now, as a
judge and a military governor, was somewhat singular;
and he was certainly not deficient in zeal for the government, whatever objections may be made to his conduct on
the principles of justice and humanity. During the time
of Mr. Cox’s government, which continued till the reduction of Limerick, though he had a frontier of 80 railes to
defend, and 20 places to garrison, besides Cork and the
fort of Kinsale, yet he did not lose a single inch of ground.
On the 5th of November 1692, Mr. justice Cox received
the honour of knighthood; in July 1693 was nominated
lord chancellor of Ireland, and in October 1706 was created
a baronet. On the death of queen Anne, and the accession of king George I. sir Richard Cox, with the other
principal Irish judges, was removed from his office, and
also from the privy council. He then retired to his seat
in the county of Cork, where he hoped to have ended his
days in peace; hut his tranquillity was disturbed by several attacks which were made against him in the Irish parliament, but though several severe votes were passed
against, him, they were not followed by any farther proceedings. He now divided his time between study, making improvements on his estate, and acts of beneficence.
But in April 1733, he was seized by a fit of apoplexy,
which ended in a palsy, under which he languished till
the 3d of May that year, when he expired without pain,
at the age of 83 years one month and a few days.
nd authors. He amassed materials for a biography of our poets, which were afterwards used in what is called Gibber’s Lives. (See art. The Cibber). He also assisted Mr.
, a faithful and industrious collector of old English literature, was born of an ancient and
respectable family at Lechdale in Gloucestershire, Sept.
20, 1689. He was educated in grammatical learning, first
under the rev. Mr. Collier, at Coxwell in Berkshire, and
afterwards under the rev. Mr. Collins, at Magdalen school,
Oxford, from which he entered a commoner of Trinity
college, Oxford, in 1705. From Oxford, where he wore
a civilian’s gown, he came to London, with a view of pursuing the civil law; but losing his friend and patron sir
John Cook, knight, who was dean of the arches and vicargeneral, and who died in 1710, he abandoned civil law
and every other profession. An anonymous funeral poem
to the memory of sir John Cook, entitled “Astrea lacrirnans,
” the production probably of Coxeter, appeared in
for printing the dramatic works of Thomas May,
esq. a contemporary with Ben Jonson, and, upon his decease, a competitor for the bays. With notes, and an
account of his life and writings.
” fl The editor,“says he,
” intending to revive the best of our plays, faithfully collated
with all the editions, that could be found in a search of
above thirty years, happened to communicate his scheme
to one who now invades it. To vindicate which, he is resolved to publish this deserving author, though out of the
order of his design. And, as a late spurious edition of
“Gorboduc
” is sufficient to shew what mistakes and confusion may be expected from the medley now advertising
in ten volumes, a correct edition will be added of that excellent tragedy; with other poetical works of the renowned
Sackville, his life, and a glossary. These are offered as a
specimen of the great care that is necessary, and will constantly be used, in the revival of such old writers as the
editor shall be encouraged to restore to the public in their
genuine purity.“Such are the terms of the proposals:
and they shew, that, though this design did not take effect,
Coxeter was the first who formed the scheme, adopted by
Dodsley, of publishing a collection of our ancient plays.
Sackville’s
” Gorboduc,“here referred to, is the edition
published by Mr. Spence in 1736. In 1747 he was appointed secretary to a society for the encouragement of an
essay towards a complete English history; under the auspices of which appeared the first volume of Carte’s
” History of England.“Mr. Warton made considerable
use of his Mss. in his
” History of Poetry“and in 1759,
an edition of Massinger’s works was published in 4 vols.
8vo. said to be
” revised, corrected, and the editions collated by Mr. Coxeter." He died of a fever April 19, 1747,
in his 59th year, and was buried in the chapel-yard of the
Royal hospital of Bridewell: leaving an orphan daughter,
who was often kindly assisted with money by Dr. Johnson,
and in her latter days by that excellent and useful institution, the Literary Fund. She died in Nov. 1807.
ore drove to his lodgings one morning, in a fiacre, quite alone, without any attendants, and had him called down: “Come into the carriage,” said he to the artist, who was
A similar anecdote of the duke of Orleans the regent,
and Antony Coypei the father, deserves to be related here
by way of conclusion. The regent knew that Coypel, on
account of some disgusts, was intending to accept of an
invitation to England. He therefore drove to his lodgings
one morning, in a fiacre, quite alone, without any attendants, and had him called down: “Come into the carriage,
”
said he to the artist, who was quite disconcerted at this
visit; “let us go and take a drive together: you are. chagrined I want to try whether I cannot put you in a good
humour,
” and this jaunt made Coypel at once forget both
England and his chagrin. The subject of this memoir died
in 1752, in the 58th year of his age.
the Strand, and thence to Mr. Payne’s at the Mews-gate, to meet his literary friends: and punctually called every Saturday at the late Mr. Mudge’s, now Button’s, the ingenious
His death was probably brought on by a cold he caught in going out after a long confinement. It was apparently an atrophy, but at last, a constipation of the bowels. Among his other habits, in which he was extremely regular, he was accustomed for 40 years of his life, to go every day first to Mr. Elmsly’s the bookseller in the Strand, and thence to Mr. Payne’s at the Mews-gate, to meet his literary friends: and punctually called every Saturday at the late Mr. Mudge’s, now Button’s, the ingenious mechanic in Fleet-street, to have his watch exactly regulated.
Grosvenor family, and officiated at the coronation of his present majesty. The apprehension of being called to perform this service occasioned no small uneasiness to his
The principal features of his face, which was a very fine one, were mildness, kindness, and goodness and though they could not well be described in one line, yet they might be expressed by the single epithet of // benevolo. He was an universal favourite, because he possessed those qualities of which mankind are seldom jealous, and which they are ever ready to commend. His judgment was sound, and his taste excellent: he was eager. to learn, and modest to decide. His general manner of life, though he occasionally mixed with the world, and lived with the first people, was quiet and recluse: and his excursions from Queen-square were, for the most part, terminated at Clapham. The greatest journey of his life was from London to Oxford, and he was never on horseback. He had an estate in Hertfordshire, on which grew a remarkable c-hcsnut-tree, which he never saw but in an etching. This property was the manor of great Wimondly, held of the crown in grand serjeantry by the service of presenting to the king the first cup he drinks at his coronation; the cup to be of silver gilt, and the king returns it as the fee of office. His father, colonel Cracherode, purchased this manor of the Grosvenor family, and officiated at the coronation of his present majesty. The apprehension of being called to perform this service occasioned no small uneasiness to his son. His fortune was large, which he received from his father. Possessing about 600l. a year in landed property, and nearly 100,000l. in three per cents, he was usually reckoned worth 5000l. a year, of which he made the best possible use, for his charities were as ample as his fortune, but secret.
at Edinburgh in 1548, and studied the civil law in the university of Paris. While very young, he was called to the bar as an advocate in the court of session: his practice
, was born at Edinburgh in 1548,
and studied the civil law in the university of Paris. While
very young, he was called to the bar as an advocate in the
court of session: his practice at the bar was great, and he
was treated with every mark of respect by his countrymen;
and when on a visit to London, he was knighted by king
James. Bering well skilled in British and European antiquities, he wrote a learned treatise on the feudal law, entitled “Jus Feudale,
” which is still in very great esteem.
In
His palace at Lambeth, says Mr. Gilpin, might be called a seminary of learned men; the greater part of whom persecution
His palace at Lambeth, says Mr. Gilpin, might be called a seminary of learned men; the greater part of whom persecution had driven from home. Here, among other celebrated reformers, Martyr, Bucer, Aless, Pha.je, found sanctuary. Martyr, Bucer, and Phage, were liberally pensioned by the archbishop, till he could otherwise provide for them. It was his wish to fix them in the two universities, where he hoped their great knowledge and spirit of inquiry would forward his designs of restoring learning; and he at length obtained professorships for them all. Bucer and Phage were settled at Cambridge; where they only shewed what might have been expected from them, both dying within a few months after their arrival. But at Oxford, Martyr acted a very conspicuous part; and contributed to introduce among the students there a very liberal mode of thinking. Aless had been driven from Scotland, his native country, for the novelty of his opinions. The cause in which he suffered, added to his abilities and learning, so far recommended him to the university of Leipsic, to which he retired, that he was chosen a professor there. At this place he became acquainted with Melancthon, who, having written a treatise on some part of the controversy between the papists and protestants, was desirous of consulting the archbishop on a few points; and engaged Aless, otherwise not averse to the employment, to undertake a voyage into England for that purpose. In the course of the conference, the archbishop was
anons, decrees, &c. His parts were solid, rather than shining; and his memory such, that it might be called an index to the books he had read and the collections he had
Of the learning of archbishop Cranmer, Mr. Gilpin remarks, that it was chiefly confined to his profession. He
had applied himself in Cambridge to the study of the
Greek and Hebrew languages; which though esteemed at
that time as the mark of heresy, appeared to him the only
sources of attaining a critical knowledge of the scriptures.
He had so accurately studied canon-law, that he was
esteemed the best canonist in England: and his reading
in theology was so extensive, and IiHi collections from the
fathers so very voluminous, that there were few points in
which he was not accurately informed; and on which he
could not give the opinions of the several ages of the
church from the times of the apostles. f< If I had not seen
with my own eyes,“says Peter Martyr,
” I could not
easily have believed, with what infinite pains and labour
he had digested his great reading into particular chapters,
under the heads of councils, canons, decrees, &c. His
parts were solid, rather than shining; and his memory
such, that it might be called an index to the books he had
read and the collections he had made.
d many of the austerities of a mistaken piety, and the poems entitled “Steps to the Temple,” were so called in allusion to his passing his time almost constantly in St.
In 1641, Wood informs us, he took degrees at Oxford.
At what time he was admitted into holy orders is uncertain,
but he soon became a popular preacher, full of energy and
enthusiasm. In 1644, when the parliamentary army expelled those members of the university who refused to take
the covenant, Crashaw was among the number; and being
unable to contemplate with resignation or indifference, the
ruins of the church-establishment, went over to France,
where his sufferings and their peculiar influence on his
mind prepared him to embrace the Roman catholic religion. Before he left England, he appears to have practised many of the austerities of a mistaken piety, and the
poems entitled “Steps to the Temple,
” were so called in
allusion to his passing his time almost constantly in St.
Mary’s church, Cambridge. “There,
” says the author
of the preface to his poems, “he lodged under Tertullian’s
roof of angels; there he made his nest more gladly than
David’s swallow near the house of God; where like a primitive saint he offered more prayers in the night, than
others usually offer in the day; there he penned these
poems,
” Steps for happy souls to climb Heaven by.“The same writer informs us that he understood Hebrew,
Greek, Latin, Italian, and Spanish, and was skilled in
poetry, music, drawing, painting, and engraving, which
last he represents as
” recreations for vacant hours, not the
grand business of his soul."
the degree of doctor, and returned and settled at Breslaw, whence, at the end of a few years, he was called to Vienna, and made physician and aulic counsellor to the emperor,
, a physician and voluminous writer, was born at Breslaw in 15iy. He received his first instruction under Philip Melancthon, and being intended for the church, he afterwards studied for six years under Martin Luther at Wittenburgh, but being more inclined to the practice of medicine, he was sent to Padua, and placed under professor Monti. He here took the degree of doctor, and returned and settled at Breslaw, whence, at the end of a few years, he was called to Vienna, and made physician and aulic counsellor to the emperor, Ferdinand I. He tilled the same post under the two succeeding emperors, Maximilian and Rodolph, which he notices in an epigram he composed a short time before his death:
, who has been called the Æsehvlus of France, was born at Dijon, Feb. 13, 1671, and
, who has been
called the Æsehvlus of France, was born at Dijon, Feb.
13, 1671, and was educated among the Jesuits, who are
said to have recorded him in their registers “as a boy of
parts, but remarkably graceless.
” His family, long distinguished in the magistracy both on the father’s and
mother’s side, wishing to preserve its acquired lustre, his
father, who was chief register in the chamber of accounts
at Dijon, recommended the law to him, without, it would
appear, consulting his inclination. He studied it,
however, at Paris; was admitted advocate, and afterwards entered as pupil to a solicitor. His frequent attendance on
public spectacles, appears to have early given him a relish
for the stage, and he could not conceal it from his master,
the solicitor, who, from the eloquence with which Crebillon spoke of the master-pieces of the drama, predicted
that he would one day make a figure on the theatre. He
even ventured to advise his pupil to renounce the bar, and
follow the impulse of his genius. This, however, rather
disheartened, than encouraged him, as he had a great diffidence of himself; but at length, daily urged by counsels,
the sincerity of which he could not suspect, and still more
by inclination, he hazarded a piece which he ventured to
read to the players, but it was rejected, and he almost
forswore the pursuit of dramatic fame.
the shades, and even the graces of our vices; that seducing levity which renders the French what is called amiable, but which does not signify worthy of being beloved;
, son of
the preceding, was born at Paris February 12, 1707, and
died there April 12, 1777, at the age of 70. It is said that
his father being one day asked, in a large company, which
of his works he thought the best? “I don't know,
” answered he, “which is my best production; but this
(pointing to his son, who was present) is certainly my
worst.
” “It is,
” replied the son, with vivacity, “because
no Carthusian had a hand in it:
” alluding to the report,
that the best passages in his father’s tragedies had been
written by a Carthusian friar, who was his friend. His
father had gained his fame as a manly and nervous writer;
the son was remarkable for the ease, elegance, and caustic
malignity of his conversation and writings, and might be
surnamed the Petronius of France, as his father had been
characterised by that of the Æschylus. The abbe Boudot,
who lived on familiar terms with him, said to him one day
in reply to some of his jokes: “Hold thy tongue! Thy
father was a great man; but as for thee, thou art only a
great boy.
” “Crebiilon the father,
” says M. d'Alembert,
“paints in the blackest colours the crimes and wickedness
of man. The son draws, with a delicate and just pencil,
the refinements, the shades, and even the graces of our
vices; that seducing levity which renders the French what
is called amiable, but which does not signify worthy of being beloved; that restless activity, which makes them feel
ennui even in the midst of pleasure; that perversity of
principles, disguised, and as it were softened, by the mask
of received forms; in short, our manners, at once frivolous and corrupt, wherein the excess of depravity combines
with the excess of ridiculousness.
” This parallel is more
just than the opinion of L'Advocat, who says that the romances of Crebiilon are extremely interesting, because all
the sentiments are drawn from a sensible heart, but it is
plain that this “sensible heart
” is full of affectation, and
that the author describes more than he feels. However
this may be, Crebiilon never had any other post than that
of censor-royal. He is said to have lived with his father
as with a friend and a brother; and his marriage with an
English woman, whom Crebiilon the father did not approve, only produced a transient misunderstanding. The
principal works of the son are: 1. Letters from the marchioness to the count of ***, 1732, 2 vols. 12rno. 2. Tanzai and Neadarne“, 1734, 2 vols. 12mo. This romance,
abounding in satirical allusions and often unintelligible,
and which caused the author to be put into the bastille,
was more applauded than it deserved. 3.
” Les egarements du coeur & de Tesprit,“1736, three parts, 12mo.
4.
” The Sopha,“a moral tale, 1745, 1749, 2 vols. 12mo,
grossly immoral, as most of his works are. For this he Was
banished from Paris for some time. 5.
” Lettres
Atheniennes,“177I,4vols. 12mo. 6.
” Ah! que?i conte“1764,
8 parts, 12mo. 7.
” Les Heureux Orphelins,“1754, 2
vols. 12mo. 8.
” La Nuit & le Moment,“1755, 12mo.
9.
” Le hasard du coin du feu,“1763, 12mo. 10.
” Lettres de la duchesse de ***,' &c. 1768, 2 vols. 12mo.
11. “Lettres de la marquise de Pompadour,
” 12mo, an
epistolary romance, written in an easy and bold style; but
relates few particulars of the lady whose name it bears.
The whole of his works have been collected in 7 vols.
12mo, 1779.
tion of Manilius’s Astronomicon, dated from All-Souls, Oct. 10, 1696. On his father’s monument he is called” the learned, much admired, and much envied Mr. Creech.“By whom
The following is a list of his translations; for we do not
find him to have been the author of any original works.
1. A translation of “Lucretius,
” printed in 8vo, at Oxford, Miscellany
Poems,
” which were published by him, speaks of this
translation in the highest terms of approbation, calling
Creech “the ingenious and learned translator of Lucretius
” and every body else entertained the same opinion of
it.' In the edition of 1714, in 2 vols. 8vo, all the verses of
the text, which Creech had left untranslated, particularly
those in the fourth book about the nature of love, are supplied; and many new notes added and intermixed by another hand, by way of forming a complete system of the
Epicurean philosophy. Creech had published in 1695 an
edition of Lucretius in Latin, with notes, which were
afterwards printed at the end of the English translation.
Another edition of this, much enlarged, but very incorrect,
was published in 1717 in 8vo. The best is that of Glasow, 1759, 12 mo. He will perhaps be far longer rememred as the editor than the translator of Lucretius. 2. In
1684 he published a translation of “Horace
” in which,
however, he has omitted some few odes. As to the satires,
he was advised, as he tells us in the preface, “to turn them
to our own time; since Rome was now rivalled in her vices;
and parallels for hypocrisy, profaneness, avarice, and the
like, were easy to be found.
” But those crimes,“he declares,
” were out of his acquaintance; and since the character is the same whoever the person is, he was not so
fond of being hated, as to make any disobliging application.
Such pains,“says he,
” would look like an impertinent
labour to find a dunghill.“3. The
” Idylliums“of Theocritus, with Rapin’s discourse of pastorals, 1684,- 8vo. 4.
The second elegy of Ovid’s first book of elegies the sixth,
seventh, eighth, and twelfth of the second book; the story
of Lucretia, out of the Fasti; and the second and third of
Virgil’s eclogues; printed in a collection of miscellany
poems, 1684. 5. The thirteenth satire of Juvenal, with
notes. Printed in the English translation of the satires,
1693, in folio. 6. A translation into English of the verses
prefixed to Quintinie’s Complete Gardener. 7. The Lives
of Solon, Pelopidas, and Cleomenes, from Plutarch. 8.
The Life of Pelopidas, from Cornelius Nepos. 9. Laconic apophthegms, or remarkable sayings of the Spartans, from Plutarch. 10. A discourse concerning Socrates’s da3mon, and the two first books of the Symposiacs,
from Plutarch. These translations from Plutarch were
published in the English translations of his
” Lives“and
” Morals.“11. A translation of Manilius’s Astronomicon,
dated from All-Souls, Oct. 10, 1696. On his father’s
monument he is called
” the learned, much admired, and
much envied Mr. Creech.“By whom he could have been
envied, we know not, yet there is a ridiculous story that
Dryden became so jealous of him, as to incite him to
translate Horace that he might lose as much reputation by
that poet, as he had gained by Lucretius. His poetry will
scarcely at present be deemed an object which calls for
much criticism, as he is rather a good scholar than a
good poet; and in the instance of Lucretius, a most judicious editor. Dr. Warton, however, who will be allowed
Jto be an admirable judge, has spoken of him in terms of
applause.
” Creech,“says the doctor,
” in truth, is a
much better translator than he is usually supposed and
allowed to be. He is a nervous and vigorous writer: and
many parts, not only of his Lucretius, but of his
Theocritus and Horace (though now decried) have not been
excelled by other translators. One of his pieces may be
pronounced excellent; his translation of the thirteenth
satire of Juvenal; equal to any that Dryden has given us
of that author.“Pope certainly paid him no small compliment by beginning his epistle to Mr. Murray (afterwards lord Mansfield) with two lines from Creech’s Horace. Pope
used to say that
” he hurt his translation of Lucretius very
much by imitating Cowley, and bringing in turns even
into some of the most grand parts. He has done more
justice to Manilius."
ity and atonement of Jesus Christ. Crellius, we are told, like many of his descendants, would not be called a Socinian, but an Artemonite, after Artemon, who lived in the
, a once celebrated writer of the
Sociriian persuasion, was born in Franconia in 1590, and
after some early education received from his father, studied
at Nuremberg, and other German schools or universities.
He was brought up in the Lutheran church, but in the
course of his reading, having formed to himself a set of
opinions nearly coinciding with those of Socinus, he declined the offers of promotion in the Lutheran church,
where he probably would not have been favourably received, and determined to go to Poland, where such opinions as his were no bar to advancement. In 1612 he
went to Racow, and besides becoming a preacher, was appointed Greek professor and afterwards rector of the university. His theological works form a considerable part of
the works’ of the “Fratres Poloni,
” and he engaged in a
controversy with Grotius, who had written against Socinus,
and a correspondence, of great politeness, took place between them, which made Grotius be suspected of inclining
too much to the opinions of his antagonist. He certainly
carried his politeness very far, when he told Crellius that
“he was, grieved to see so much enmity between those,
who call themselves Christians, for such trifling matters,
”
these matters being no less than the doctrine of the Trinity, and the divinity and atonement of Jesus Christ.
Crellius, we are told, like many of his descendants, would
not be called a Socinian, but an Artemonite, after Artemon, who lived in the reign of the emperor Severus, and
denied the pre-existence and divinity of Christ. Crellius’
opinions on other subjects will not probably procure him
much respect, at least from one sex. In his “Ethics,
”
he is said to maintain that it is lawful for men upon certain
occasions to beat their wives! Crellius died at Racow, of
an epidemic fever, 1633. Father Simon’s opinion of him
may be quoted as generic. “Crellius is a grammarian, a
philosopher, and a divine throughout. He has a wonderful address in adapting St. Paul’s words to his own prejudices. He supports the doctrines of his sect with so much
subtlety, that he does not seem to say any thing of himself, but to make the scriptures speak for him, even where
they are most against him.
”
, or, as he called himself, de Crescentiis, was born at Bologna about 1233, and
, or, as
he called himself, de Crescentiis, was born at Bologna
about 1233, and after studying philosophy, medicine, and
natural history, engaged in a course of law, but did not
take his doctor’s degree; by which means, although he
might plead causes, he was not at liberty to give lectures,
a privilege which belonged only to doctors. For thirty
years he was employed as assessor, or judge to the civil
and military governors of various cities in Italy, an office
of which he discharged the duties with impartiality, and
witb the happiest effect in preserving peace in those places.
In the mean time having contracted a taste for agriculture,
wherever he removed, he collected such observations as
might improve his knowledge of that branch, and on his
return to Bologna, which he had left during the political
dissentions there, he wrote in 1304 a treatise on agriculture, with the title of “Ruralia Commoda,
” dedicated to
Charles II. king of Naples. The first edition appeared in
147 1 at Augsburgh, fol. under the title of “Petri de Crescentiis rurahum commodorum, libri duodecim.
” It was
translated into Italian, Florence,
e those of his countrymen. With this intention he endeavoured to form a new society, or, as they are called in Italy, academy, rindcr the name of Arcadia, the members to
, an Italian poet, and
poetical historian, the son of John Philip Crescimbeni, a
lawyer, and Anna Virginia Barbo, was born Oct. 9, 1663,
at Macerata in the marche ofAncona. Jerome Casanati,
afterwards cardinal, was his godfather, and gave him the
names of John-Maria-Ignatius-Xavier-Joseph-Antony, of
which he retained only John Maria, and afterwards changed
the latter into Mario. After receiving grammatical education at home, his uncle Antony-Francis, an advocate, invited him to Rome in 1674; hut the following year his
father and mother recalled him to Macerata, where he engaged in a course of study among the Jesuits. His
teacher of rhetoric was Charles d' Aquino, under whom he
made great progress in eloquence and poetry. Among his
early attempts, he wrote a tragedy in the style of Seneca,
“The Defeat of Darius, king of Persia,
” and translated
the first two hooks of Lucan’s Pharsalia into Italian verse
from which performances he derived so much reputation, as
to be admitted a member of the academy of the Disposti,
in the town of Jesi, although only in his fifteenth year.
About that time he continued his classical studies for eight
months under Nicolas Antony Raffaelli, and entered upon
a course of philosophy. His father now recommending the
law as a profession, Crescimbeni took his doctor’s degree
Oct. 3, 167 y, and was appointed to lecture on the institutes,
which he did for a year. His uncle before mentioned,
aoain inviting him to Rome, he divided his time there between law and polite literature, and in 1685, the academy
of the Infecondi admitted him a member. Hitherto his
studies in Italian poetry had not been conducted so as to
inspire him with a very pure taste; but about 1687, he
entered on a course of reading of the best Italian poets,
which not only enabled him to correct his own taste and
style, but gave him hopes that tie might improve those of
his countrymen. With this intention he endeavoured to
form a new society, or, as they are called in Italy, academy, rindcr the name of Arcadia, the members to be called
the shepherds of Arcadia, and each to take the name of a
shepherd, and that of some place in ancient Arcadia, and
his own name accordingly was Alfesibeo Cario. Such was
the origin of this celebrated academy, and surely no origin
was ever mure childishly romantic, or unpromising as to
any beneficial e licet on solid or elegant literature, to which
purposes, however, we are told it has eminently contributed. It was established Oct. 5, 1690. A short account
of it, written in 1757, informs us that the first members
were those itained persons chiefly who were about queen
Christina of Sweden. (See Christina, vol. IX.) It admits all sciences, all arts, all nations, all ranks, and
both sexes. The number of its members is not determined; they are said at present to be upwards of two thousand, but we have heard a much larger number assigned,
for they sometimes aggregate whole academies. At Home,
the academicians assemble in pastoral habits, in a most
agreeable garden, called Bosco Parrhasia. The constitution
of the society being democratic, they never chusje a prince
for their protector. At the end of each olympiad, for that
is the method of computing adopted by the Arcadians,
they cbuse a custode, who is the speaker, and has the sole
right of assembling the society, who are also represented
by him alone, when they are not assembled. In order to
be admitted a member, it is requisite that the person
should be twenty-four years of age complete, of a reputable family, and to have given some specimen of abilities
in one or more branches of education. As to the ladies, a
poem, or a picture, is a testimony of genius that is held
sufficient. The stated assemblies of this academy are fixed
to seven different days, between the first of May and the
seventh of October. In the first six they read the works
of the Roman shepherds, the productions of strangers being
reserved for the seventh and last. Each author reads his
own compositions, except ladies and cardinals, who are
allowed to employ others.
, sometimes called La Spagnuolo, from the style in which he affected to dress,
, sometimes called La Spagnuolo, from the style in which he affected to dress, was born at Bologna, in 1665, and received his earliest instruction in design from Angelo Toni, a very moderate artist; but in a short time he quitted that school, and successively studied under Domenico Cainuti, Carlo Cignani, and Giovanni Antonio Burrini. From them he applied himself to study the works of Baroccio, and afterwards the principles of colouring at Venice, from the paintings of Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese. Thus qualified to appear with credit in his profession, his merit was made known to the grand duke Ferdinand, who immediately engaged him in several noble compositions, which he executed with success. In portrait he was particularly excellent; and to those subjects he gave elegant attitudes, with a strong and graceful resemblance.
ition he also published “Sixteen revelations of divine love, shewed to a devout servant of our Lord, called mother Juliana, an anchorete of Norwich, who lived in the days
After the restoration, and the marriage of king Charles II.
queen Catharine appointed our author, who was then become one of the mission in England, her chaplain, and
from that time he resided in Somerset-house, in the Strand.
The great regularity of his life, his sincere and unaffected
piety, his modest and mild behaviour, his respectful deportment to persons of distinction, with whom he was formerly acquainted when a protestant, and the care he took
to avoid all concern in political affairs or intrigues of state,
preserved him in quiet and safety, even in the most troublesome times- He was, however, a very zealous champion in the cause of the church of Rome, and was continually writing in defence of her doctrines, or in answer
to the books of controversy written by protestants of distinguished learning or figure; and as this engaged him in
a variety of disputes, he had the good fortune to acquire
great reputation with both parties, the papists looking
upon him to be one of their ablest advocates, and the protestants allowing that he was a grave, a sensible, and a
candid writer. Among the works he published after his
return to England, were: 1. “A non est inventus returned to Mr. Edward Bagshaw’s enquiry and vainly boasted
discovery of weakness in the Grounds of the Church’s Infallibility,
” A Letter to an English gentleman, dated July 6th, 1662, wherein bishop Morley is
concerned, printed amongst some of the treatises of that
reverend prelate,
” 3. “Roman Catholic Doctrines no Novelties; or, an answer to Dr. Pierce’s court-sermon, miscalled The primitive rule of Reformation,
” The Church History of
Britanny,
” Roan, upon account of some nice controversies between the
see of Rome, and some of our English kings, which might
give offence.
” While engaged on this work, he found leisure to interfere in all the controversies of the times, as
will presently be noticed. His last dispute was in reference
to a book written by the learned Dr. Stillingfleet, afterwards bishop of Worcester, to which, though several answers were given by the ablest of the popish writers, there
was none that seemed to merit reply, excepting that
penned by father Cressey, and this procured him the honour of a very illustrious antagonist, his old friend and
acquaintance at Oxford, Edward earl of Clarendon. Being
now grown far in years, and having no very promising scene
before his eyes, from the warm spirit that appeared against
popery amongst all ranks of people, and the many excellent books written to confute it by the most learned of the
clergy, he was the more willing to seek for peace in the
silence of a country retirement; and accordingly withdrew
for some time to the house of Richard Caryll, esq. a gentleman of an ancient family and affluent fortune, at East
Grinstead, co. Sussex, and dying upon the 10th of August 1674, being then near the seventieth year of his age,
was buried in the parish church there. His loss was much
regretted by those of his communion, as being one of their
ablest champions, ready to draw his pen in their defence
on every occasion, and sure of having his pieces read with
singular favour and attention. His memory also was revered by the protestants, as well on account of the purity
of his manners, and his mild and humble deportment, as
for the plainness, candour, and decency with which he
had managed all the controversies that he had been engaged in, and which had procured him, in return, much
more of kindness and respect, than almost any other of
his party had met with, or indeed deserved. It is very remarkable, however, that he thought it necessary to apologize to his popish readers for the respectful mention he
made of the prelates of our church. Why this should require an apology, we shall not Inquire, but that his candour and politeness deserve the highest commendation will
appear from what he says of archbishop Usher: “As for
B. Usher, his admirable abilities in ‘chronological and historical erudition,’ as also his faithfulness and ingenuous
sincerity in delivering without any provoking reflection*,
what with great labour he has observed, ought certainly at
least to exempt him from being treated by any one rudely
and contemptuously, especially by me, who am moreover
always obliged to preserve a just remembrance of very
many kind effects of friendship, which I received from,
him.
”
We have already taken notice of his inclination to the
mystic divinity, which led him to take so much pains about
the works of father Baker, and from the same disposition
he also published “Sixteen revelations of divine love,
shewed to a devout servant of our Lord, called mother Juliana, an anchorete of Norwich, who lived in the days of
king Edward Hi.
” He left also in ms. “An Abridgment
of the book called The cloud of unknowing, and of the
counsel referring to the same.
” His next performance,
was in answer to a famous treatise, written by Dr. Stillingfleet, against the church of Rome, which made a very
great noise in those days, and put for some time a stop to
the encroachments their missionaries were daily making,
which highly provoked those of the Roman communion.
This was entitled “Answer to part of Dr. Stillingfleet’s
book, entitled Idolatry practised in the church of Rome,
”
Fanaticism fanatically
imputed to the Catholic Church by Dr. Stillingfleet, and
the imputation refuted and retorted,
” &c. Question, Why are you a Catholic? Question, Why
are you a Protestant?
” Animadversions
” upon our author’s answer; in which he very plainly
tells him and the world, that it was not devotion, but necessity and want of a subsistence, which drove him first
out of the church of England, and then into a monastery.
As this noble peer knew him well at Oxford, it may be
very easily imagined that what he said made a very strong
impression, and it was to efface this, that our author thought
tit to send abroad an answer under the title of “Epistle
apologetical to a person of honour, touching his vindication of Dr. Stillingfleet,' 1 1674, 8vo. In this work he
gives a large relation of the state and condition of his affairs, at the time of what he styles his conversion, in order
to remove the imputation of quitting his faith to obtain
bread. The last work that he published was entitled
” Remarks upon the Oath of Supremacy."
bert duke of Albany, the third son of king Robert II. by Elizabeth Muir, or More, as she is commonly called. It is hence evident, that when the admirable Crichton boasted,
, was a Scotch gentleman, who
lived in the sixteenth century, and has furnished a sort of
biographical romance. His endowments both of body and
mind were esteemed so great, that he obtained the appellation of “The admirable Crichton,
” and by that title he
has continued to be distinguished down to the present day.
The accounts given of his abilities and attainments are
indeed so wonderful, that they seem scarcely to be credible; and many persons have been disposed to consider
them as almost entirely fabulous, though they have been
delivered with the. utmost confidence, and without any
degree of hesitation, by various writers. The time of
Crichton’s birth is said, by the generality of authors, to
have been in 1551; but according to lord Buchan, it appears from several circumstances, that he was born in the
month of August, 1560. His father was Robert Crichton
of Elliock in the county of Perth, and lord advocate of
Scotland in queen Mary’s reign, from 1561 to 1573; part
of which time he held that office in conjunction with
Spens of Condie. The mother of James Crichton was
Elizabeth Stuart, the only daughter of sir James Stuart of
Beath, who was a descendant of Robert duke of Albany,
the third son of king Robert II. by Elizabeth Muir, or
More, as she is commonly called. It is hence evident, that
when the admirable Crichton boasted, as he did abroad,
that he was sprung from Scottish kings, he said nothing
but what was agreeable to truth. Nevertheless, Thomas
Dempster, who sufficiently amplifies his praises in other
respects, passes a severe censure upon him on this account; which is the more remarkable, as Dempster lived
so near the time, and was well acquainted with the genealogies of the great families of Scotland. James Crichton
is said to have received his grammatical education at Perth,
and to have studied philosophy in the university of St.
Andrew. His tutor in that university was Mr. John
Rutherford, a professor at that time famous for his learning, and who distinguished himself by writing four books
on Aristotle’s Logic, and a commentary on his Poetics.
But nothing, according to Mackenzie, can give us a
higher idea of Rutherford’s worth and merit, than his being master of that wonder and prodigy of his age, the
great and admirable Crichton. However, it is not to this
professor alone that the honour is ascribed of having formed
so extraordinary a character. There are others who may
put in their claim to a share in the same glory; for Aldus
Manutius, who calls Crichton first cousin to the king, says
that he was educated, along with his majesty, under Buchanan, Hepburn, and Robertson, as well as Rutherford.
Indeed, whatever might be the natural force of his genius,
jnany masters must have been necessary, in order to his
acquiring such a variety of attainments as he is represented
to have possessed. For it is related, that he had scarcely
reached the twentieth year of his age, when he had run
through the whole circle of the sciences, and could speak
and write to perfection in ten different languages. Nor
was this all; for he had likewise improved himself to the
highest degree in riding, dancing, and singing, and in
playing upon all sorts of instruments. Crichton, being
thus accomplished, went abroad upon his travels, and is
said to have gone to Paris; of his transactions at which
place the following account is given. He caused six placards to be fixed on the gates of the schools, halls, and
colleges belonging to the university, and on the pillars
and posts before the houses of the most renowned men for
literature in the city, inviting all those who were well
versed in any art or science to dispute with him in the
college of Navarre, that day six weeks, by nine o'clock in
the morning, where he would attend them, and be ready
to answer to whatever should be proposed to him in any
art or science, and in any of these twelve languages, Hebrew, Syrlac, Arabic, Greek, Latin, Spanish, French, Italian, English, Dutch, Flemish, and Sclavonian; and this
either in verse or prose, at the discretion of the disputant.
During this whole time, instead of closely applying to his
studies, he regarded nothing but hunting, hawking, tilting,
vaulting, riding of a well-managed horse, tossing the pike,
handling the musquet, and other military feats; or else he
employed himself in domestic games, such as balls, concerts of music, vocal and instrumental; cards, dice, tennis,
and other diversions of youth. This conduct so provoked
the students of the university, that, beneath the placard
that was fixed on the Navarre gate, they caused the following words to be written: “If you would meet with this
monster of perfection, to search for him either in the tavern or t)ie brothel is the readiest way to find him.
” Nevertheless, when the day appointed arrived, Crichton appeared in the college of Navarre, and acquitted himself
beyond expression in the disputation, which lasted from
nine in the morning till six at night. At length, the president, after extolling him highly for the many rare and
excellent endowments which God and nature had bestowed
upon him, rose from his chair; and, accompanied by four
of the most eminent professors of the university, gave him
a diamond ring and a purse full of gold, as a testimony of
their approbation and favour. The whole ended with the
repeated acclamations and huzzas of the spectators; and
henceforward our young disputant was called “The admirable Crichton.
” It is added, that he was so little
fatigued with the dispute, that he went the very next day
to the Louvre, where he had a match'at tilting, an exercise then in great vogue; and, in presence of some princes
of the court of France, and a great many ladies, carried
away the ring fifteen times successively, and broke as many
lances on the Saracen, whatever that might be; probably
a sort of mark.
of ridiculous jargon. Mademoiselle de Lusson published in 2 vols. 12mo, 1757, the life of this hero, called by his contemporaries I'homme sans peur (the man without fear),
, of an illustrious
family of Italy, established in the comtat Venaissin, knight
of Malta, and one of the greatest generals of his age, was
born in 1541, and entered into the service in 1557. At
the age of fifteen he was at the siege of Calais, and contributed greatly to the taking of that place, by a brilliant
action that brought him to the notice of Henry II. He
afterwards signalized himself against the Huguenots, or
protestants, at the battles of Dreux, of Jarnac, and of
Moncontour, in 1562, 1568, and 1569. The youthful hero
so greatly distinguished himself in his caravans, especially
at the battle of Lepanto in 1571, that he was made choice
of, though wounded, to carry the news of the victory to
the pope and to the king of France. We find him two
years afterwards, in 1573, at the siege of la Rochelle, and
in almost all the other considerable rencontres of that
period. He every where shewed himself worthy of the name
usually given him hy Henry IV. of the Brave Crillon.
Henrv Hi. who was well acquainted with his valour, made
him knight of his orders in 1585. The specious pretences
of the league, the mask of religion which it put on, could
never shake the fidelity of the brave Crillon, however great
his antipathy to the Huguenots. He rendered important
services to his prince in the affair of the Barricades, at
Tours, and elsewhere. Henry III. ventured to propose to
Crillon to assassinate the duke de Guise, a rebellious subject whom he was afraid to put to death by the sword of
the law. Crillon offered to fiorht him; but disdained to
hear of assassination. When Henry IV. had made the
conquest of his kingdom, Crillon was as faithful to him as
he had been to his predecessor. He repulsed the leaguers
before Boulogne. The army of Villars having invested
Villebceuf in 1592, he vigorously defended that place,
replying to the besiegers, on their summoning the besieged
to surrender, “Crillon is within, and the enemy without.
”
Henry, however, did but little for him; “because,
” said
he, “I was sure of the brave Crillon and I had to gain
over my persecutors.
” The peace of Vervins having put
an end to the wars that had troubled Europe, Crillon retired to Avignon, and there died, in the exercises of piety
and penance, the 2d of December 1615, at the age of
seventy-four. Francis Bening, a Jesuit, pronounced the
discourse at his funeral: a piece of burlesque eloquence,
printed in 1616, under the title of “Boucher d'Honnenr,
”
the “Buckler of Honour,
” and reprinted not many years
since, as a specimen of ridiculous jargon. Mademoiselle
de Lusson published in 2 vols. 12mo, 1757, the life of this
hero, called by his contemporaries I'homme sans peur (the man without fear), le brave des braves (the bravest of the brave). This was translated into English by Miss Lomax,
of Hertfordshire, and after being revised by Richardson,
the author of Clarissa, was published at London, 1760, 2
vols. 12mo. Crillon appears to have been a second chevalier Bayard, not on account of his fantastic and sullen
humour, but from the excellence of his heart and his attachment to religion. It is well known that being present
one day at a sermon on the sufferings of Christ, when the
preacher was come to the description of the flagellation,
Crillon, seized with a sudden fit of enthusiasm, put his
band to his sword, crying out, “Where wert thou,
Crillon?
” These sallies of courage, the effect of an exuberant
vivacity of temper, engaged him too frequently in duels,
in which he always came off with honour. Two instances
are recorded of an intrepidity highly characteristic of Crillon. At the battle of Moncontour in 1569, a Huguenot
soldier thought to serve his party by dispatching the
bravest and most formidable of the catholic generals. In
this view he repaired to a place where Crillon, in his return from pursuing the fugitives, must necessarily pass.
The soldier no sooner perceived him than he drew the
trigger of his piece. Crillon, though severely wounded in
the arm, ran up to the assassin, laid hold on him, and was
instantly going to thrust him through with his sword, when
the soldier threw himself at his feet and begged his life.
“I grant it thee,
” said Crillou; “and if any faith could
be put in a man that is at once a rebel to his king, and an
apostate to his religion, I would put thee on thy parole
never to bear arms but in the service of thy sovereign.
”
The soldier, confounded at this act of magnanimity, swore
that he would for ever shake off all correspondence with
the rebels, and return to the catholic religion. — The young
duke of Guise, to whom Henry IV. had sent him at Marseilles, was desirous of trying how far the fortitude of
Crillon would go. In this design he caused the alarm to
be sounded before the quarters of his brave commander,
and two horses to be led to his door. Then, running up
to his apartments, pretended that the enemy was master
of the port and town, and proposed to him to make his
escape, that he might not swell the triumph of the conquerors. Though Crillon was hardly well awake when he
heard these tidings, he snatched up his arms without the
least trepidation, maintaining that it was better to die
sword in hand, than survive the loss of the place. Guise,
finding it impossible, by all the arguments he could use, to
alter his resolution, accompanied him out of the chamber;
but, when they were about the middle of the stairs, he
burst out into a violent laughter, which plainly discovered
the trick to Crillon. He then put on a graver countenance
than when he thought he was going to fight; and griping
the duke of Guise by the hand, he said, with an oath, according to his custom, “Young man, never again amuse
thyself with putting to the test the heart of an honest man.
Par la mort! if thou hadst found me weak, I would have
poignarded thee!
” After these words he retired without
saying any thing more. We will conclude with the laconic billet written to him from the field of battle by Henry
IV. after the victory of Arques, where Crillon was unable
to be present: “Hang thyself, Crillon! We have been
fighting at Arques, and thou wert not there. Adieu, brave
Crillon! I love thee whether right or wrong.
”
n should sign an instrument signifying their inclination to preserve the public tranquillity, he was called upon, and very readily subscribed it. He was also principally
, an eminent and loyal citizen in the reigns of king Charles the First, and king Charles the Second, the son of a very eminent merchant of London, was born in 1598, and bred, according to the custom of those times, in a thorough knowledge of business, though heir to a great estate. He made a considerable addition to this by marriage; and being a man of an enterprizing genius, ever active and solicitous about new inventions and discoveries, was soon taken notice of at court, was knighted, and became one of the farmers of the king’s customs. When the trade to Guinea was under great difficulties and discouragements, he framed a project for retrieving it, which required a large capital, but his reputation was so great, that many rich merchants willingly engaged with him in the prosecution of the design; and to give a good example, as well as to shew that he meant to adhere to the work that he had once taken in hand, he caused the castle of Cormantyn upon the Gold Coast, to be erected at his own expence. By this judicious precaution, and by his wise and wary management afterwards, himself and his associates carried their trade so successfully, as to divide amongst them fifty thousand pounds a year. When the rebellion began, and the king was in want of money, sir Nicholas Crispe, and his partners in the farming of the customs, upon very short warning, and when their refusing it would have been esteemed a merit with the parliament, raised him one hundred thousand pounds at once. After the war broke out, and in the midst of all the distractions with which it was attended, he continued to carry on a trade to Holland, France, Spain, Italy, Norwaj', Moscovy, and Turkey, which produced to the king nearly one hundred thousand pounds a year, besides keeping most of the ports open and ships in them constantly ready for his service. All the correspondence and supplies of arms which were procured by the queen in Holland, and by the king’s agents in Denmark, were consigned to his care, and by his prudence and vigilance safely landed in the north, and put into the hands of those for whom they were intended. In the management of so many nice and difficult affairs, he was obliged to keep up a very extensive correspondence, for which he hardly ever made use of cypher, but penned his letters in such a peculiar style, as removed entirely his intentions from the apprehension of his enemies, and yet left them very intelligible unto those with whom he transacted. He had also great address in bringing any thing to bear that he had once contrived, to which it contributed not a little, that in matters of secrecy and danger he seldom trusted to any hands but his own, and made use of all kinds of disguises. Sometimes, when he was believed to be in one place, he was actually at another; letters of consequence he carried in the disguise of a porter; when he wanted intelligence he would be at the water side, with a basket of flounders upon his head, and often passed between London and Oxford in the dress of a butter-woman on horseback, between a pair of panniers. He was the principal author of a well-laid design for publishing the king’s commission of array at London, in which there was nothing dishonourable, so far as sir Nicholas Crispe was concerned, which, however, Clarendon inadvertently confounds with another design, superinduced by Mr. Waller, of surprizing the parliament, in bringing which to bear he proceeded very vigorously at first, till, finding that he had engaged in a matter too big for his management, he suddenly lost his spirits, and some of the chief men in the house of commons gaining intelligence that something was in agitation to their prejudice, May 31st, 1643, they presently seized Mr. Waller, and drew from him a complete discovery, which, from the account they published, plainly distinguished these two projects. By the discovery of this business, sir Nicholas Crispe found himself obliged to declare openly the course he meant to take; and having at his own expence raised a regiment of horse for the king’s service, he distinguished himself at the head of it as remarkably in his military, as he had ever done in his civil capacity. When the siege of Gloucester was resolved on, sir Nicholas Crispe was charged with his regiment of horse to escort the king’s train of artillery from Oxford, which important service he very gallantly performed; but in the month of September following, a very unlucky accident occurred, and though the circumstances attending it clearly justified his conduct to the world, yet the concern it gave him was such as he could not shake off so long as he lived. He happened to be quartered at Rouslidge, in Gloucestershire, where one sir James Ennyon, bart. of Northamptonshire, and some friends of his took up a great part of the house, though none of them had any commands in the army, which, however, sir Nicholas bore with the utmost patience, notwithstanding he was much incommoded by it. Some time after, certain horses belonging to those gentlemen were missing, and sir James Ennyon, though he had lost none himself, insinuating that some of sir Nicholas’s troopers must have taken them, insisted that he should immediately draw out his regiment, that search might be made for them. Sir Nicholas answered him with mildness, and offered him as full satisfaction as it was in his power to give, but excused himself from drawing out his regiment, as a thing improper and inconvenient at that juncture, for reasons which he assigned. Not content, however, sir James left him abruptly, and presently after sent him a challenge, accompanied with a message to this effect, that if he did not comply with it, he would pistol him against the wall. Upon this, sir Nicholas Crispe taking a friend of his with him, went to the place appointed, and finding sir James Ennyon and the person who brought him the challenge, sir Nicholas used his utmost endeavours to pacify him; but he being determined to receive no satisfaction, unless by the sword, they engaged, and sir James received a wound in the rim of the belly, of which he died in two days. Before this, however, he sent for sir Nicholas Crispe, and was sincerely reconciled to him. Upon the 2d of October following, sir Nicholas was brought to a court-martial for this unfortunate affair, and upon a full examination of every thing relating to it, was most honourably acquitted. He continued to serve with the same zeal and fidelity during 1644, and in the spring following; but when the treaty of Uxbridge commenced, the parliament thought fit to mark him, as they afterwards did in the Isle of Wight treaty, by insisting that he should be removed from his majesty’s presence; and a few months after, on April 16th, 1645, they ordered his large house in Breadstreet to be sold, which for many years belonged to his family. Neither was this stroke of their vengeance judged a sufficient punishment for his offences, since having resolved to grant the elector palatine a pension of eight thousand pounds a year, they directed that two thousand should be applied out of the king’s revenue, and the remainder made up out of the estates of lord Culpeper and sir Nicholas Crispe, Sir Nicholas finding himself no lon^ev in a capacity to render his majesty any service, thought it expedient to preserve himself; and in April 1646 embarked with lord Culpeper and colonel Monk for France, but as he had many rich relations who had interest with those in power, they interposed in his favour; and as sir Nicholas perceived that he could be of no service to the royal cause abroad, h did not look upon it as any deviation from his duty, to return and live quietly at home. Accordingly, having submitted to a composition, he came back to London, to retrieve his shattered fortunes, and very soon engaged again in business, with the same spirit and success as before. In this season of prosperity he was not unmindful of the wants of Charles II. but contributed cheerfully to his relief, when his affairs seemed to be in the most desperate condition. After the death of Oliver Cromwell, he was instrumental in reconciling many to their duty, and so well were his principles known, and so much his influence apprehended, that when it was proposed that the royalists in and about London should sign an instrument signifying their inclination to preserve the public tranquillity, he was called upon, and very readily subscribed it. He was also principally concerned in bringing the city of London, in her corporate capacity, to give the encouragement that was requisite to leave general Monk without any difficulties or suspicion as to the sincerity and unanimity of their inclinations. It was therefore very natural, after reading the king’s letter and declaration in common-council, May 3d, 1660, to think of sending some members of their own body to preSent their duty to his majesty; and having appointed nine aldermen and their recorder, they added sir Nicholas Crispe, with several other worthy persons, to the committee, that the king might receive the more satisfaction from their sentiments being delivered by several of those who had suffered deeply in his own and in his father’s cause. His majesty accordingly received these gentlemen very graciously, as a committee, and afterwards testified to them separately the sense he had of their past services, and upon his return, sir Nicholas Crispe and sir John Wolstenholme, were re-instated as farmers of the customs. Sir Nicholas was now in years, and somewhat infirm, spent a great part of his time at his noble country seat near Hammersmith, where he was in some measure the founder of the chapel, and having an opportunity of returning the tbligation he had received from some of his relations, he procured for them that indemnity from the king, gratis, for which he had so dearly paid during the rebellion. The last testimony he received of his royal master’s favour, was his being created a baronet, April 16th, 1665, which he did not long survive, dying February 26th, the next year, in the sixty-seventh year of his age, leaving a very large estate to his grandson, sir Nicholas Crispe. His corpse was interred with his ancestors, in the parish church of St. Mildred, in Bread-street, and his funeral sermon was preached by his reverend and learned kinsman Mr. Crispe, of Christ-church, Oxford. But his heart was sent to the chapel at Hammersmith, where there is a short and plain inscription upon a cenotaph erected to his memory; or rather upon that monument which himself erected in grateful commemoration of king Charles I. as the inscription placed there in sir Nicholas’s life-time tells us, under which, after his decease, was placed a small white marble urn, upon a black pedestal, containing his heart.
ularly by Dr. Turner, master of St. John’s college in Cambridge, in his Animadversions on a pamphlet called “The Naked Truth;” 1676, 4to. This was answered by Andrew Marvell,
In the mean time, he was not so intent upon his private
concerns in his diocese, but that he shewed himself ready
to serve the public as often as he thought it in his power.
Accordingly, in 1675, when the quarrel with the non-conformists was at its height, and the breach so artfully widened
that the Roman catholics entertained hopes of entering
through it, he published a piece, entitled, “The Naked
Truth; or, the true state of the primitive church,
” 4to, which
was printed at a private press, and addressed to the lords
and commons assembled in parliament. This, though no
more than a small pamphlet of four or five sheets, excited
an uncommon degree of attention, and was read and
studied by all people of sense and learning in the kingdom.
The author’s design was to recommend to the legislature
measures for reconciling the differences among protestants,
and for securing the church against the attempts of papists.
He begins with articles of faith; and having shewn the
danger of imposing more than are necessary, especially as
terms of communion, he proceeds next through all the
great points in dispute between the church of England and
those that dissent from her: labouring to prove throughout, that protestants differ about nothing that can truly be
styled essential to religion; and that, for the sake of union,
compliances would be more becoming, as well as more effectual, than enforcing uniformity by penalties and persecution. 7'he whole is written with the best intentions, and
with great force of argument: nevertheless it was attacked
with great zeal by some of the clergy, particularly by Dr.
Turner, master of St. John’s college in Cambridge, in his
Animadversions on a pamphlet called “The Naked Truth;
”
Mr. Smirke, or the Divine in Mode;
”
in which after descending, as the title shows, to personal
ridicule, he says, that bishop Croft’s work is a treatise,
which, “if not for its opposer, needs no commendation,
being writ with that evidence and demonstration of truth,
that all sober men cannot but give their assent and consent
to it unasked. It is a book of that kind, that no Christian
can scarce peruse it, without wishing himself to have been
the author, and almost imagining that he is so: the conceptions therein being of so eternal idea, that every man
finds it to be but a copy of the original in his own mind.
”
Many other pamphlets were written against “The Naked
Truth;
” but the author did not vouchsafe them any reply,
and it continued for a considerable time to be read and reprinted.
er of great authenticity. There have been several editions, as in 1657, 1658, 1661, all of which are called the first edition, and are frequently without tables of the
The “Reports
” of sir George Croke have obtained the
character of great authenticity. There have been several
editions, as in 1657, 1658, 1661, all of which are called
the first edition, and are frequently without tables of the
principal matters; there is also a very incorrect edition,
varying in the numbers from the other editions, and the
dates are printed in numerical letters MDCL. &c. An edition of 1669, which is called the second, is well printed in
3 vols, but has no references. The third, also in 3 vols,
fol. was translated and published by his son-in-law, sir
Harbottle Grimstone, in 1683 or 1685, with tables and references. This first led the way in divesting this branch of
legal literature of the foreign idiom, and substituting the
author’s native language. The fourth and last edition, in
4 vols. 8vo, 1790 1792, with additions and marginal
notes, and many references to later authorities, including
several from the ms notes of lord chief baron Parker, was
published by Thomas Leach, esq. There is an accurate
abridgment of Croke’s Reports, three parts, 8vo, by Will.
Hughes, esq, published in 1685. Sir George Croke’s arguments on ship-money were published with those of sic
Richard Hutton. Lloyd, no friend to the patriots of Charles
I.'s time, remarks that the share in this tax for which
Hampden went to law was eighteen shillings, and that it
cost the nation eighteen millions.
e of pure doctrine; and captivated his heart entirely. This man, hearing that a parliament was to be called, and being himself one of the common-council, took it into his
In these circumstances one might wonder, how he should form a design, at a time when elections were considered as things of the utmost consequence, of getting himself chosen, more especially for the town of Cambridge, where he was so far from having any interest, that he was not so much as known; and, if he had been known, would never have been elected. But the whole of that affair was owinor to an accidental intrigue, in which himself had at first no hand. One reason why he quitted Huntingdon was, a dispute he had with Mr. Bernard, upon his becoming recorder, about precedency; a point in which he was very nice. After he came to Ely, he resorted entirely to nonconformist meetings, where he quickly distinguished himself by his gifts, as they were styled in those days, of preaching, praying, and expounding. At one of these meetings he met with Richard Tims, a tradesman of Cambridge, who rode every Sunday to Ely for the sake of pure doctrine; and captivated his heart entirely. This man, hearing that a parliament was to be called, and being himself one of the common-council, took it into his head, that there could not be a fitter man to be their burgess than Mr. Cromwell; and with this notion he went to Wildbore, a draper in the town, and a relation of Cromwell’s, who agreed with him exactly as to the fitness of the person, but told him the thing was impossible, as he was not a freeman. Tims, not satisfied with that, addressed himself next to Evett, a tallow-chandler, who was also a puritan. He relished the thought; but, for the same reason, pronounced the design impracticable. However, Tims had hardly left his house, before Evett sent for him back, and whispered, that the mayor had a freedom to bestow, and that one Kitchingman, an attorney, who had married his wife’s sister, and was of their party, had a great influence over him. He advised him therefore to move Kitchingman in it, who was to use his interest with the mayor, stating that Mr. Cromwell was a gentleman of fortune, and had a mind to come and live in the town, which was then in a poor condition; but with a strict charge to hide the true design, alderman French, who was then the mayor, being a declared royalist. When they came to make this application to him, French said he was sorry, but that in reality they came too late, for he had promised his freedom to the king’s fisherman. Kitchingman easily removed this objection, by undertaking that the town should confer a freedom upon the person he mentioned; and accordingly at the next court-day, the mayor declared his intention to bestow his freedom on a very worthy gentleman of the isle of Ely, one Mr. Cromwell; who, being apprized of his friend’s industry, came to town over night, and took up his lodgings at Almond’s, a grocer. Thither the mace was sent for him, and he came into court dressed in scarlet, richly laced with gold; where, having provided plenty of claret and sweetmeats, they were so well circulated among the corporation, that they unanimously declared Mr. Mayor’s freeman to be a civil worthy gentleman. When the election came on, the mayor discovered his mistake; but it was then too late, for the party among the burgesses was strong enough to choose him, which they accordingly did at the next election the ensuing year.
that time discover any of the great qualities which afterwards appeared, and which seem to have been called out as occasion required. He affected not only plainness but
When he came into parliament, he was very constant in
his attendance, and a frequent speaker; though he did not
at that time discover any of the great qualities which afterwards appeared, and which seem to have been called out
as occasion required. He affected not only plainness but
carelessness in dress, was very uniform in his conduct, and
spoke warmly and roundly, but without either art or elocution. He was very forward in censuring what were called
grievances, both in church and state, though he had not
framed to himself any plan of reformation. This he frankly
acknowledged, with respect to ecclesiastical affairs, when
pressed by sir Thomas Chicheley and Mr. Warwick to declare his sentiments on that subject. “I can tell,
” said
Cromwell, “what I would not have, though I cannot tell
what I would have.
” He was very zealous in promoting
the remonstrance, which was carried Nov. 14, 1641, and
which in reality laid the basis of the civil war; and declared to lord Falkland afterwards, that if the remonstrance
had not been carried, he was resolved to have converted
the small remains of his estate into ready money the next
day, and to have quitted the kingdom upon the first opportunity. His firmness upon this occasion recommended
him so effectually to Hampden, Pym, and the rest of the
leaders on that side, that they took him into all their councils; where he acquired that clear insight into things, and
knowledge of men, of which afterwards he made such
astonishing use. As soon as the parliament formed any
scheme of raising forces, which was in the beginning of
equally true, that Cromwell and his friends absolutely carried their point, by bringing in what was called the self-denying ordinance, which excluded the members of either
The wisest men and the best patriots saw very clearly
whither these excessive praises tended. That the nation
might be made as fully convinced of it, the earl of Manchester exhibited a charge against him in the house of
lords; and Cromwell, in return, brought another against
the noble peer in the house of commons. It is true, that
neither of these charges was prosecuted; but it is equally
true, that Cromwell and his friends absolutely carried their
point, by bringing in what was called the self-denying ordinance, which excluded the members of either house
from having any commands in the army; from which,
however, on account of his extraordinary merit, which
set him above all ordinances, Cromwell was at first occasionally, and at length altogether exempted. From being
lieutenant-general of the horse, he became lieutenant-general of the army; and he procured an address from his
regiment, declaring their satisfaction with the change. He
continued to distinguish himself by his military successes,
and to receive the thanks of both houses for the services
he did. He shone particularly at the battle of Naseby,
June 14, 1646, and had also his share in reducing the
west; till, upon the surrender of Exeter, April 13, 1645,
he found leisure to return to London. Upon taking his
seat in the house, thanks were returned him, in terms as
strong as words could express; and the prevailing party
there received from him such encouragement, as induced
them to believe he was wholly at their devotion. But in
this they were mistaken; for while they thought the lieutenant-general employed in their business, he was in
reality only attentive to his own. Thus, when the parliament inclined to disband a part of their forces, after the
king had delivered himself to the Scots and the Scots
had agreed to deliver him to the parliament, Cromwell opposed it vigorously, if not openly. For, in the first
place, he insinuated by his emissaries to the soldiers, that
this was not only the highest piece of ingratitude towards
those who had fought the parliament into a power of disbanding them, but also a crying act of injustice, as it was
done with no other view than to cheat them of their arrears. Secondly, he procured an exemption for sir Thomas Fairfax’s army, or, in other words, for his own, the
general only having that title and appointments, while
Cromwell had the power; and the weight of the reduction
fell upon Massey’s brigade in the west, together with the
troops which colonel Poyntz commanded in Yorkshire;
men of whom he had good reason to doubt, but upon whom
the parliament might have depended. Thus he dextrously
turned to his own advantage the means which, in truth,
were contrived for his destruction.
Nov. 12, 1646, the army marched triumphantly through
London; and in February following, the Scots having received the money agreed on, delivered up the king, who
was carried prisoner to Holmby. At this time Cromwell
had a most difficult part to play. What wore the legal
appearance of power was evidently in the hands of the parliament, in which the presbyterian party was still prevalent;
and as the general sir Thomas Fairfax was likewise in that
interest, the real power seemed also to be on their side.
At bottom, however, the army, now taught to know their
own strength, were in reality the masters; and they were
entirely directed by Cromwell, though they knew it not
themselves. He saw the necessity of having a strong place,
and getting the king’s person into their power and he
contrived to do both, without seeming to have a hand in
either. Oxford was at that time in a good condition, and
well supplied with artillery, upon which the army seized
it, with the magazines, and every thing else; and Cromwell, then at London, prevailed upon cornet Joyce to
seize the king’s person with a strong detachment of horse,
not only without the general’s orders, but without any
orders at all, except those verbal instructions from Cromwell. This was executed June 4, 1G47, notwithstanding
the parliament’s commissioners were then with the king;
who was conducted from Holmby to Childersly, in Cambridgeshire, then the army’s head quarters. Here, through
the management chiefly of Cromwell and his son-in-law commissary Ireton, the king was treated, not only with reverence,
but with kindness; and when sir Thomas Fairfax, who
knew nothing of the taking of the king away, and disliked
it, would have sent him back asrain with the commissioners,
under the guard of two regiments of horse, the king absolutely refused to move. Nay, to such a degree was that
monarch convinced of the sincerity of his new friends, that
he had the indiscretion to tell sir Thomas Fairfax, when
he made him a tender of his duty and respect, with promises of fair treatment, that “he thought he had as good
an interest in the army as himself.
”
f this, the army marched directly to London, and in December, took possession of it; purged, as they called it, the house of commons, turning out the greater part of its
Soon after this, a new party sprung up among the soldiers, under the title of Levellers, who made no secret of
their hating equally both king and parliamentand it was
to save himself from these people, who, as he was informed by Cromwell, sought his life, that the king, Nov. 11,
fled from Hampton-court to the Isle of Wight, after having
rejected the parliament’s proposals by Cromwell’s and
Ireton’s advice. Immediately after this, Cromwell altered
his behaviour to the king entirely; for, having made use
of the king’s presence to manage the army, and of the
power which the army had thereby acquired, to humble
and debase the parliament, there remained no end to be
answered by keeping measures any longer with the king.
The parliament, now much altered from what it was, upon
the king’s refusing to pass four bills they had sent him,
fell into very warm debates; in which it is asserted that
Cromwell was a principal speaker, and inveighed bitterly
against his majesty, saying, “the king was a very able
man, but withal a great dissembler; one in whom no trust
could be reposed, and with whom, therefore, they ought
to have nothing to do for the future.
” However this might
be, the parliament, Jan. 5, voted that no more addresses
should be made to the king; and from that time he was
more strictly imprisoned than ever. In the mean time,
there were risings in several parts of the kingdom; which
employing the military power, the city of London and the
parliament were left in some measure at liberty to pursue
their own sentiments; and what these were, quickly appeared; for on June 27, 1648, the city petitioned for a
personal treaty with the king, which was very well received, and some steps taken to advance it. A few days
after, the commons recalled their vote for non-addresses,
began a personal treaty with the king at the Isle of Wight,
and at length voted his majesty’s concessions satisfactory,
and an attempt was even made to impeach Cromwell of
high treason. But the army having now reduced all opposition, and returning towards London, Nov. 20, sent a
remonstrance to the house of commons, disapproving all
they had done. The remonstrance was carried by colonel
Ewers, who went next into the isle of Wight, where he
seized the person of the king, and carried him to Hurst
castle. This was resented by the parliament, who commanded the general to recall his orders; but instead of
this, the army marched directly to London, and in December, took possession of it; purged, as they called it,
the house of commons, turning out the greater part of its
members, and then forcing the rest to do what they pleased.
In most of these proceedings Cromwell appeared veryactive, and is, with good reason, believed to have directed
them all.
omwell a principal member. But before he had well taken possession of this new dignity, he was again called to action; and that too as hazardous as any in which he had
The government being now entirely changed, for in five days after the king’s death the house of lords was voted useless, it became necessary to think of some expedient for managing the executive power; and therefore it was resolved to set up a council of state, of which John Bradshaw was president, and lieutenant-general Cromwell a principal member. But before he had well taken possession of this new dignity, he was again called to action; and that too as hazardous as any in which he had hitherto been concerned. The persons he had to engage were part of the army he commanded; who, being dissatisfied on some account or other, set forth their sentiments by way of remonstrance presented to the general. For this high offence they were seized, and tried by a court martial, and sentenced to ride with their faces to their horses’ tails, at the head of their respective corps, with a paper expressing their crime fixed on their breasts, after which their swords were to be broke over their heads, and themselves cashiered; every circumstance of which was strictly executed, March 6, in Great Palace-yard. This served only to increase the flame; for several regiments of horse, and among the rest Cromwell’s own, mutinied, put white cockades in their hats, and appointed a rendezvous at Ware; where Cromwell appeared, when he was least suspected, and brought with him some regiments quartered at a distance, that he couicl depend on. Here, without any previous expostulations, he with two regiments of horse surrounded one regiment of the mutineers, and calling four men by name out of their ranks, obliged them to cast dice for their lives; and the two that escaped were ordered to shoot the others, which they did; upon which the rest thought fit to slip their white cockades into their pockets, and to secure themselves by a submission. The same spirit of mutiny broke out in another regiment of horse; but it was entirely subdued by Cromwell, and the fomenters of it punished. After this, he and Fairfax went first to Oxford, where they were made doctors in civil law; and thence to London, where they were splendidly entertained by the city, and had presents of great value when they took leave. At this time England, if not quiet, was totally subdued; the Scots were discontented, but not in arms; so that Ireland became the principal object of the parliament’s care, since in that island, of three parties which had for many years been shedding each other’s blood, their own was the weakest. In August, therefore, 1649, Cromwell embarked with an army for Ireland, where his successes, as in England, were attended with so few disappointments, that, by June 1650, he had in a manner subdued the whole island. By that time his presence was required in England, not only by those who wished him well, but even by his most inveterate enemies; and therefore constituting his son-inlaw Ireton, his deputy, he took ship for Bristol, where, after a dangerous passage, he safely arrived, leaving such a terror upon the minds of the Irish as made every thing easy to those who succeeded him, and completed the conquest of that country.
J, he attacked and carried that city, totally defeated the king’s forces, and gained what he himself called, in his letter to the parliament, the crowning victory. It is
His return to London was a kind of triumph; and all ranks of people contended, either from love or fear, who should shew him the most respect. At his taking his seat in the house, he had thanks returned him for his services in the highest terms. When these ceremonies were over, they proceeded to matters of greater consequence; for, by this time the parliament had another war upon their hands, the Scots having invited home Charles II. and prepared an army to invade England. There is no doubt that the parliament would readily have trusted this war to the conduct of lord Fairfax, a brave man and good officer; but Fairfax had taken the covenant, and such were his scruples, he could not bring himself to think of breaking it, by attacking the Scots in their own country. Cromwell thought, and rightly, that they should not wait for an invasion, but prevent one invasion by another; and therefore pressed Fairfax to continue in his command, and the more earnestly, because he knew he would not do it; declaring that he thought it a greater honour to serve as his lieutenant-general, than to command in chief the finest army in the world. Fairfax, however, remained inflexible in his resolution; so that, June 26, an ordinance passed for repealing his commission, and at the same time another for appointing Cromwell general and commander in chief of all the forces of the commonwealth. He had now such power as might have satisfied the most ambitious mind; for though he offered to resign his lieutenancy of Ireland, the parliament would not accept it. He marched with an army to Scotland, and Sept. 3, gained the victory of Dunbar, than which none ever did him greater credit as a commander. He continued the war all the winter; in the spring was severely attacked by an ague; of which recovering, he, after several successes, forced the king into England, and blocked him up in Worcester. Sept. 3, 165J, he attacked and carried that city, totally defeated the king’s forces, and gained what he himself called, in his letter to the parliament, the crowning victory. It is said, that this signal stroke of success took Cromwell a little off his trnard. He would have knighted two of his principal commanders upon the field of battle, and was with difficulty dissuaded from it: his letter to the parliament on this occasion was conceived in higher and loftier terms than usual: and Ludlow says, that his behaviour was altered from that day, and that all who were about him observed it. It is certain, nevertheless, that he afterwards behaved with great humility and submission to the parliament; though in the mean time he took all care imaginable to make the army sensible of their own importance, and to let them see that nothing could divide their interests from his own. This was the true foundation of his growing greatness, and of the gradual declension of the parliament’s power; which, though they clearly discerned, they knew not how to prevent.
s to render the necessity of dissolving that assembly universally apparent. April 19, 1653, Cromwell called a council of officers once more to debate this point; in which,
Notwithstanding this, he behaved in public with great
decency and duty towards that body of men he was contriving to remove. The whole winter of 1652 was spent
in contrivances and cabals on both sides; by the friends of
the parliament to support and maintain its authority, by
their opponents to bring things into such a situation, as to
render the necessity of dissolving that assembly universally
apparent. April 19, 1653, Cromwell called a council of
officers once more to debate this point; in which, as he had
many friends, so he had also some opponents, who insinuated, that what he did proceeded from self-interest and
ambition. Major-general Harrison, a zealous fanatic, but
absolutely deceived by Cromwell, assured the assembly,
in the sincerity of his heart, that “the lord-general sought
only to pave the way for the government of Jesus and his
saints;
” to which major Streater briskly returned, that
“then he ought to come quickly; for if it was after Christmas, he would come too late.
” Upon this, Cromwell adjourned the meeting till the next morning, when a new
point was started, whether it might not be expedient for
the house and the army to appoint twenty persons on a
title to be intrusted with the supreme power? In the midst
of this dispute advice came that the house had under consideration their own dissolution; and upon this, such as
were members withdrew, and went thither to promote that
design. But in reality the parliament had framed a bill,
to continue themselves to November 5th of the next year,
proposing in the mean time to fill up the house by new
elections. Cromwell, informed what the house was upon,
was so enraged, that he left the council, and marched
directly with a party of 300 soldiers to Westminster.
There placing some of them at the door, some in the lobby,
and others on the stairs, he went into the house; and,
addressing himself first to his friend St. John, told him,
that “he then came to do that which grieved him to the
very soul, and what he had earnestly with tears prayed to
God against; nay, that he had rather be torn in pieces
than do it; but that there was a necessity laid upon him
tilt-rein, in order to the glory of God, and the good of the
nation.
” Then he sat down, and heard their debates for
some time on the forementioned bill; after which, calling
to major-general Harrison, who was on the other side of
the house, to come to him, he told him, that “he judged
the parliament ripe for a dissolution, and this to be the
time of doing it.
” Harrison answered, “Sir, the work is
very great and dangerous; therefore I desire you seriously
to consider of it before you engage in it.
” “You say
well,
” replied Cromwell; and thereupon sat still for about
a quarter of an hour. Then the question being put for
passing the said bill, he declared again to Harrison, “This
is the time, I must do it:
” and so standing up of a sudden,
he bade the speaker leave the chair, and told the house
that they had sat long enough, unless they had done more
good; that some of them were whoremasters, others
drunkards, others corrupt and unjust men, and scandalous
to the profession of the gospel; that it was not fit they
should sit as a parliament any longer, and therefore he
must desire them to go away. He charged them with
not having a heart to do any thing for the public good,
and with being the supporters of tyranny and oppression.
When some of the members began to speak, he stepped
into the midst of the house, and said, “Come, come, I
will put an end to your prating:
” then walking up and
down the house, he cried out, “You are no parliament, I
say, you are no parliament;
” and stamping with his feet,
he bid them for shame be gone, and give place to honester
men. Upon this signal the soldiers entered the house,
and he bade one of them take away that bauble, pointing
to the mace; and Harrison taking the speaker by the hand,
he came down. Then Cromwell, addressing himself again
to the members, who were about an hundred, said, ‘ 4 ’Tis
you that have forced me to this; for I have sought the
Lord night and day, that he would rather slay me, than
put me upon the doing of iliis work.“And then seizing
on all their papers, he ordered the soldiers to see the house
cleared of all members; and having caused the doors to be
locked up, went away to Whitehall. Here he found a
council oi'oiHcers still assembled, and this grand point yet
in debate: upon which he told them roundly,
” thev need
trouble themselves no farther about it, for he had done it.“”Done what?“replied colonel Okey, who was not one of
his creatures; and, upon his telling him, expostulated the
point warmly. But Cromwell talked so much louder than
he, of the glory of God and the good of the nation, the
removing of yokes and badges of slavery, that Okey very
soon thought proper to be silent, and to wait for the conclusion of the affair. In the afternoon of the same day,
Cromwell, attended by the majors-general Lambert and
Harrison, went to the council of state, and, finding them
sitting, addressed them in the following terms:
” Gentlemen, if you are met here as private persons, you shall not
be disturbed; but, if as a council of state, this is no place
for you. And since you cannot but know what was done
at the house this morning, so take notice, that the parliament is dissolved.“Serjeant Bradshaw boldly answered,
” Sir, we have heard what you did at the house in the
morning, and before many hours all England will hear it.
But, sir, you are mistaken to think that the parliament is
dissolved, for no power under heaven can dissolve them
but themselves; and therefore take you notice of that."
Some others also spoke to the same purpose: but the
council finding themselves to be under the same force, all
quietly departed.
irect all things by the advice of the council of officers; but afterwards a new council of state was called, by virtue of letters or warrants under the lord-general’s hand.
The true reason why Cromwell thus dismissed this council of state, was, because he intended to have another of
his own framing; these being men entirely devoted to the
parliament, from whom they derived their authority. He
now projected such measures as appeared to him the most
proper for the support of that great authority which he
had attained. He continued for a few days to direct all
things by the advice of the council of officers; but afterwards a new council of state was called, by virtue of letters
or warrants under the lord-general’s hand. But this consisting chiefly of fifth-monarchy and other madmen, soon
dissolved of itself; and then the power returned into the
hands of Cromwell, from whom it came. Harrison, and
about twenty more, remained in the house, and seeing the
reign of the saints at an end, placed one Moyer in the
speaker’s chair, and began to draw up protests; but they
were soon interrupted by colonel White with a party of
soldiers. White asking them what they did there, they
told him, “they were seeking the Lord;
” to which he
replied, “that they might go somewhere else, for to his
knowledge, the Lord had not been there many years;
”
and so turned them out of doors. The scene thus changed,
the supreme power was said to be in the council of officers
again; and they very speedily resolved, that the lordgeneral, with a select council, should have the administration of public affairs, upon the terms contained in a paper,
entitled “The Instrument of Government;
” and that his
excellency should be protector of the commonwealth of
England, Scotland, and Ireland, and have the title of
Highness. Accordingly he was invested therewith Dec.
16, 1653, in the court of chancery in Westminster-hall,
with great solemnity; and thus, in his 54th year, assumed
the sovereign power, which he well knew how to exercise
with firmness. When he had thus reduced the government
into some order at least, he proceeded very wisely and
warily; appointed a privy-council, in which there were
great and worthy men, who he knew would either not act
at all, or not very long with him; but their names giving
a sanction for the present, he proceeded, with the advice
of as many of them as attended, to make several ordinances that were necessary, as also to dispose matters for
the holding a new parliament. He applied himself also to
the settlement of the public affairs, both foreign and domestic; he concluded a peace with the states of Holland
and Sweden; he obliged the king of Portugal, notwithstanding all that had passed between the parliament and
bim, to accept of a peace upon his terms; and adjusted
matters with France, though not without some difficulty.
As to affairs at home, he filled the courts in Westminsterhall with able judges; and directed the lawyers themselves
to make such corrections in the practice of their profession,
as might free them from public odium. The same moderation he practised in church matters; professing an unalterable resolution to maintain liberty of conscience. He
gave the command of all the forces in Scotland to general
Monk, and sent his son Henry to govern Ireland. By an
ordinance dated April 12, 1654, he united England and
Scotland, fixing the number of representatives for the latter at 30; and soon after he did the same by Ireland. He
affected to shew great zeal for justice, in causing the brother of the ambassador from Portugal to be executed for
murder; which he did July 10, in spite of the greatest
application to prevent it.
h the terms of the Instrument of Government; and with the dislike which the protector, when first so called, had expressed of hereditary right. When he had afterwards brought
He had many children, of whom six, Richard, Henry,
Bridget, Elizabeth, Mary, and Frances, survived to advanced age. Richard, his eldest son, was born Oct. 4,
1626. His father has been censured for keeping him at a
distance from business, and giving him no employment
but for this perhaps there was not any just ground. He
married him to a daughter and coheir of Richard Major,
of Hunley, in Hampshire, esq. who brought him a good
fortune. He suffered him to pursue the bent of his inclinations, and to lead the life of a plain, honest, country
gentleman; which for a time was highly suitable to his
own interest, as it seemed to correspond with the terms of
the Instrument of Government; and with the dislike which
the protector, when first so called, had expressed of hereditary right. When he had afterwards brought about a
change in affairs, he altered his conduct towards his son;
named him the first lord in his other house; resigned to
him the chancellorship of Oxford; and conferred upon him
all the honours he could. His weak and harmless reign is
well known. On his dismission from the protectorate, he
resided some time at Pezenas, in Languedoc, and afterwards went to Geneva. Sometime in 1680, he returned
to England, and for some time took the name of Richard
Clark, and resided at Cheshunt, in Hertfordshire, where
he died July 13, 1712. In 1705 he lost his only son, and
became in right of him possessed of the manor of Horsley,
which had belonged to his mother. Richard, then in an
advanced age, sent or.c of his daughters to take possession
of the estate for him. She kept it for herself and her
sisters, allowing her father only a small annuity out of it,
till she was dispossessed of it by a sentence of one of the
courts of Westminster-hall. It was requisite for this purpose, that Richard should appear in person; and tradition
says, that the judge who presided, lord Cowper, ordered
a chair for him in court, and desired him to keep on his
hat: this last circumstance appears wholly incredible. As
Richard was returning from this trial, curiosity led him to
see the house of peers, when, being asked by a person to
whom he was a stranger, if he had ever seen any thing like
it before, he replied, pointing to the throne, “Never since
I sat in that chair.
”
our Crowne was in at court induced him to embrace the tory party; about which time he wrote a comedy called the “City Politics,” in order to expose the whigs. The lord
, an American, was the son of an
independent minister in Nova Scotia. Being a man of
some genius, and impatient of the strict education he received in that country, he resolved upon coming to England to try if he could not make his fortune by his wits.
When he first arrived here, his necessities were extremely
urgent; and he was obliged to become gentleman usher to
an old independent lady; but he soon grew as weary of
that office as he was of the discipline of Nova Scotia. He
set himself therefore to writing; and presently made himself so known to the court and the town, that he was nominated by Charles II. to write “The Masque of Calisto.
”
This nomination was procured him by the earl of Rochester, who designed by that preference to mortify Dryden.
Upon the breaking out of the two parties, after the pretended discovery of the popish plot, the favour Crowne
was in at court induced him to embrace the tory party;
about which time he wrote a comedy called the “City
Politics,
” in order to expose the whigs. The lord chamberlain, Bennet earl of Arlington, though secretly a papist, was unaccountably a friend to the whigs, from his
hatred to the treasurer lord Darnley. Upon various pretences the play was withheld from the stage; at last
Crowne had recourse to the king himself, and by his majesty’s absolute command the play was acted. Though
Crowne ever retained a most sincere affection to his royal
master, he was honest enough to despise the servilities of
a court. He solicited the payment of money promised
him, which as soon as he obtained he became remiss in his
attendance at St. James’s. The duchess of Portsmouth
observed this conduct, and acquainted the king with it.
The gay monarch only laughed at the accusation, and perhaps in his mind justified Crowne’s sincerity.
y.” His majesty replied, that “he would help him to a plot” and put into his hand the Spanish comedy called “Non pued esser,” out of which Crowne took the comedy of “Sir
About the latter end of this reign, Crowne, tired out
with writing, and desirous of sheltering himself from the
resentment of many enemies he had made by his “City
Politics,
” ventured to address the king himself, for an
establishment in some office, that might be a security to
him for life. The king answered, “he should be provided
for;
” but added, “that he would first see another comedy.
”
Crowne endeavoured to excuse himself by telling the king,
that “he plotted slowly and awkwardly.
” His majesty
replied, that “he would help him to a plot
” and put into
his hand the Spanish comedy called “Non pued esser,
”
out of which Crowne took the comedy of “Sir Courtly
Nice.
” The play was just ready to appear, and Crowne
extremely delighted to think that he was going to be made
happy the remaining part of his life, by the performance
of the king’s promise; when, upon the last day of the rehearsal, he met Underbill the player coming from the
house, who informed him of the king’s death. This event
ruined Crowne; who had now nothing but his wits to live
on for the remaining part of his life. On them, however,
he contrived to live at least until 1703, but it is not certain when he died. He was the author of seventeen plays,
some of which were acted with great success; of a romance
called “Pandion and Amphigeria;
” and a burlesque poem
called “Dceneids,
” Lutrin,
” which last he translated in Dryden’s
Miscellany. The editor of the Biographia Dramatica assigns him the third rank in dramatic merit, which seems
rather more than his plays will justify. His merit, such
as it was, lay in comedy, for his tragedies are wretched.
Dryden, who, notwithstanding his high fame, was not
wholly free from the jealousy of rivals, and even of such a
rival as Crowne, used to compliment him when any of his
plays failed, but was cold to him it he met with success.
He used also to say that Crowne had some genius, but
then he always added, that “his father and Crowne’s mother were very well acquainted.
” For this bit of gossip,
related first by Jacob Tonson, we are indebted to Spence’s
Anecdotes. Dry den was evidently in good humour when
he thus endeavoured to account for Crowne’s genius.
Novels,” printed for Watts in 1729, suggested to some bookseller to affix his name to a compilation called “The Tea-table Miscellany,” 1766.
As a divine, Dr. Croxall seems entitled to little respect.
He owed his preferments to his political services. He
published, however, six single sermons, and while house
chaplain to the palace at Hampton court, preached a sermon on a public occasion, in which, under the character
of a corrupt and wicked minister of state, he was supposed
to mean sir Robert Walpole, who had intercepted some
ecclesiastical dignity which he wished to obtain. It was
expected that for this offence he would have been removed
from his chaplainship: but the court over-ruled it, as he
had always manifesed himself to be a zealous friend to the
Hanover succession. To the list of his poems may be
added, an “Ode.
” inscribed to king George the First, on
his landing to receive the crown; and “Colin’s Mistakes,
”
formerly ascribed to Prior, but printed as Croxall’s in Mr.
Nichols’s Collection. His having written the dedications
to the “Select Novels,
” printed for Watts in The Tea-table Miscellany,
”
-first year of his age. He was reckoned one of the most learned men of his time, and was frequently called a living library. So extensive was his reading, and so vast
, a learned French writer, was born at Nantes, Dec. 4, 1661. His father, who was a merchant, was also a man of letters, and bestowed much pains on the education of his son, who answered his expectations by the proficiency he made in classical studies. He had, however, provided him with a private tutor, who happened to disgust him by the severity of his manners, and upon this account partly, at the age of fourteen, he desired to take a voyage to some of the West India islands, to which his father traded; but his principal inducement was what he had read in books of voyages, and the conversation of persons who had been in America, all which raised his curiosity to visit the new world. He embarked on board a French ship, with no other books than Erasmus’s Colloquies, and the Gradus ad Parnassum. His passage was not unpleasant, and during his residence at Guadeloupe he borrowed all the Latin books he could discover, and read them with avidity; but the chief advantage he seems to have derived here was an opportunity to learn the English, Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese San^uasres. To these he afterwards added an acquaintance with the German, Sclavonic, and AngloSaxon; and studied with much attention the ancient and modern Greek, the Hebrew, Syriac, Coptic, Armenian, Hebrew, Arabic, and even the Chinese. On his return to Nantes in 1677, he found his father’s affairs somewhat deranged, and was obliged to take a part in the business. Medicine appears to have been first suggested to him as a profession, but he found little inclination for that study; and some conferences he happened to have with the Benedictines of the congregation of St. Maur determined him to enter their society. He accordingly made his noviciate in 1673, and applied himself to the study of theology. In 1682 he formally became a member of the congregation. His residence at Paris, in the abbey of St. Germain des Pres, the vast number of books within his reach, and particularly of manuscripts, increased his knowledge and his thirst for knowledge, and some of his earliest labours were bestowed in preparing materials, collecting Mss. &c. for new editions of the works of St. Clement of Alexandria, and St. Gregory Nazianzen. But these were interrupted by certain differences which occurred in the abbey to which he belonged, and of which we have various accounts. The prior of St. Germain, father Loo, had a great aversion to the study of classical and polite literature, and was for confining the members to the strict religious duties of the house. This could not fail to be disgusting to a man of La Croze’s taste: but, according to other accounts, which seem more prohable, he began to entertain religious scruples about this time (lr.96), which induced him to withdraw himself. It is said that his superiors found among his papers a treatise against transubstantiation in his hand-writing, and which they believed to be his composition; but they discovered afterwards that it uas a translation from the English of Stillingfleet. Some other manuscripts, however, sufficiently proved that he had changed his opinion on religious matters; and the dread of persecution obliged him to make his escape to Basil, which he successfully accomplished in May 1696. Here he renounced the Roman catholic religion, and as his intention was to take up his residence, he was matriculated as a student of the college of Basil. He remained in this place, however, only till September, when he departed, provided with the most honourable testimonies of his learning and character from Buxtorf, the Hebrew professor, and Werenfels, dean of the faculty of theology. He then went to Berlin, where his object was to secure a iixed residence, devote himself to study, and endeavour to forget France. In order to introduce himself, he began with offering to educate young men, the sons of protestant parents, which appears to have answered his purpose, as in 1697 we find him appointed librarian to the king of Prussia; but his biographers are not agreed upon the terms. To this place a pension was attached, but not sufficient to enable him to live without continuing his school; and some assert that he was very poor at this time. The probability is, that his circumstances were improved as he became better known, and his reputation among the learned was already extensive. In June of 1697 he went to Francfort to visit the literati of that place, and their fine library, and visited also Brandenburgh for the same purpose. In November 1697 (or, as Chaufepie says, in 1702), he married Elizabeth Rose, a lady originally of Dauphiny, and thus, adds one of his Roman catholic biographers, completed the abjuration of the true religion. In 1698 he first commenced author, and from time to time published those works on which his fame rests. Soon after he became acquainted with the celebrated Leibnitz, with whom he carried on an intimate correspondence. In 17 13 he went to Hamburgh, where he paid many visits to the learned Fabricius, and in his letters speaks with great warmth of the pleasure this journey afforded; but this year, 17 J 3, was not in other respects a vei'y fortunate one to La Croze, and he formed the design of quitting Germany. He had been appointed tutor to the margrave of Schwel, and this employment terminating in 1714, he lost the pension annexed to it, and was reduced to considerable difficulties, of which he wrote to Leibnitz, as to a friend in whom he could confide. Leibnitz, by way of answer, sent him a copy of a letter which he had written to M. BernsdorfT, prime minister to the elector of Hanover, in his behalf. The object likely to be attained by this interest was a professorship at Helmstadt; but as it required subscription to the articles of the Lutheran church, M. la Croze, notwithstanding the persuasions Leibnitz employed, declined accepting it. His affairs, however, soon after wore a more promising aspect, partly in consequence of a prize he gained in the Dutch lottery. In 1717 he had the honour to be engaged as private tutor to the princess royal of Prussia, afterwards margravine of Bareoth. In 1724, for several months his studies were interrupted by a violent fit of the gravel; and on his recovery, the queen of Prussia, who always patronized La Croze, obtained for him the professorship of philosophy in the French college at Berlin, vacant by the death of M. Chauvin. This imposed on him the necessity of drawing up a course of philosophy, but as he never intended to print it, it is said not to have been executed with the care he bestowed on his other works. In 1713 father Bernard Pez, the Benedictine, made him liberal offers if he would return to the church he had forsaken, but this he declined with politeness, offering the arguments which influenced his mind to remain in the protestant church. In 1739 an inflammation appeared on his leg, which inApril put on appearances of mortification, hut did not prove fatal until May 21. About a quarter of an bour before his death he desired his servant to read the 51st and 77th psalms, during which he expired, in the seventy -first year of his age. He was reckoned one of the most learned men of his time, and was frequently called a living library. So extensive was his reading, and so vast iiis memory, that no one ever consulted him without obtaining prompt information. In dates, facts, and references he was correct and ready. We have already noticed how many languages he had learned, but it appears that he made the least progress in the Chinese, to which Leihnitz, in his letters, is perpetuiiy iirging him. The greater part of his life was employed in study, and he had no other pleasures. There was scarcely a book in his library whicli he had not perused, and he wrote ms notes on most of them. His conversation could not fail to be acceptable to men of literary research, as his memory was stored with anecdotes, which he told in a very agreeable manner. He was conscientiously attached to the principles of the reformed religion. He had always on his table the Hebrew Psalter, the Greek Testament, and Thomas a Kempis in Latin: the latter he almost had by heart, as well as Buchanan’s Psalms. His consistent piety and charity are noticed by all his biographers.
subject of this memoir are: 1. “Dissertations historiques sur divers sujets,” Rotterclam, 1707, 8vo, called vol. I. but no more were published. It contains three dissertations,
The principal works of the subject of this memoir are:
1. “Dissertations historiques sur divers sujets,
” Rotterclam, Vindiciae Veterum Scriptorum, contra Hardouinum,
” ibid. Entretiens
sur divers sujets d'histoire,
” Cologne (Amsterdam), 8vo, containing conversations with a Jew, a dissertation on atheism,
and an attack on Basnage, which La Croze’s biographer,
Jordan, thinks too severe. The dissertation on atheism was
translated into English, and published 1712. 4. “Histoire
du Christianisme des Indes,
” Hague, 172J-, 8vo, a work
which contributed greatly and deservedly to his reputation.
5. “Histoire du Christianisme d‘Ethiope & d’Armenie,
”
ibid. Lexicon Ægyptiaco-Latinum,
” was published by Woide, at
Oxford, in Thesauri Epistoiici Lacroziani, tom. III. ex bibliotheca Jordaniana,
”
1748—1746.
onstant rule with him never to take fees as a physician from any student at the university; yet when called in, he attended them with the same assiduity as if they had
Nor was it in this way only that he befriended the students at the university of Edinburgh. Possessing a benevolence of mind that made him ever think first of the wants of others, and recollecting the difficulties that he himself struggled with in his younger days, he was at all times singularly attentive to their pecuniary concerns. From his general acquaintance among the students, and the friendly habits he was in with many of them, he found no difficulty in discovering those among them who were rather in low circumstances, without being obliged to hurt their delicacy in any degree. To such persons, when their habits of study admitted of it, he was peculiarly attentive. They were more frequently invited to his house than others; they were treated with more than usual kindness and familiarity; they were conducted to his library, and encouraged by the most delicate address to borrow from it freely whatever books he thought they had occasion for: and as persons in these circumstances were usually more shy in this respect than others, books were sometimes pressed upon them with a sort of constraint, by the doctor insisting to have their opinion of such or such passages they had not read, and desiring them to carry the book home for that purpose. He in short behaved to them rather as if he courted their company, and stood in need of their acquaintance, than they of his. He thus raised them in the opinion of their acquaintance to a much higher degree of estimation than they could otherwise have obtained, which, to people whose minds were depressed by penury, and whose sense of honour was sharpened by the consciousness of an inferiority of a certain kind, was singularly engaging. Thus were they inspired with a secret sense of dignity, which elevated their minds, and excited an uncommon ardour of pursuit, instead of that melancholy inactivity which is so natural in such circumstances, and which too often leads to despair. Nor was he less delicate in the manner of supplying their wants, than attentive to discover them. He often found out some polite excuse for refusing to take payment for a first course of lectures, and never was at a loss for one to an after-course, and by other delicate expedients he befriended those young men whose circumstances were not equal to their merit and industry. It was also a constant rule with him never to take fees as a physician from any student at the university; yet when called in, he attended them with the same assiduity as if they had been persons of the first rank, who paid him most liberally. This gradually induced others to adopt a similar practice; so that it became a general rule for medical professors to decline taking any fees when their assistance was necessary to a student. For this useful reform, with many others, the students of the university of Edinburgh are solely indebted to the liberality of Dr. Cullen.
of his friend, Mr. Henry Fry, Bedford-place. The last act of his life was the publication of a poem called “Retrospection,” a kind of legacy of opinions concerning the
During the alarm of invasion he headed two companies
of volunteer infantry, and received the commission of
major-commandant. So beloved was he by his corps, that
they honoured him with a sword as a mark of their esteem;
and at the conclusion of the peace, agreed to serve under
him without receiving their customary pay. His last days
were spent chiefly in London, where he died May 7, 1811,
after a few days illness, at the house of his friend, Mr. Henry
Fry, Bedford-place. The last act of his life was the publication of a poem called “Retrospection,
” a kind of legacy of
opinions concerning the “men and things
” more fully
handled in his Memoirs. In appreciating the personal
character of Mr. Cumberland, the reader may be very
safely directed to these “Memoirs,
” where the disguise of
self-esteem is too thin to hide what is attempted to be
hidden. It was Mr. Cumberland’s misfortune to be bred a
courtier, and never to have attained his degrees in that
school. In a subordinate station, the duties of which were
technical and formal, he performed them like others, but
was peculiarly unfortunate in venturing to act the minister,
Mr. Cumberland having associated with almost all the
eminent literary characters of his day, has introduced many
striking sketches and anecdotes of them in his “Memoirs.
”
In company his aim was to please by retailing these, and
in the art of pleasing in conversation lew men have In-*, n
more successful, and few would have been more praiseworthy, had he been more sincere in his compliments to
those who were present, or less bitter in his sarcasms on
them after they had taken their leave. By this, however,
although it occasionally administered to mirth, he lost more
than he gained; and his address, polite, studied, and
courtier-like, soon became depreciated beyond all recovery.
long as he lived, together with the opportunities he enjoyed of learning in his travels what may be called military geography, naturally tended to qualify him for writing
Lord Lome, at the time he was under the tuition of Mr. Cunningham, was colonel of a regiment, which the father of the earl of Argyle had raised for his majesty’s service in Flanders. Mr. Cunningham’s connection with the duke of Argyle, with whom he had the honour of maintaining an intimacy as long as he lived, together with the opportunities he enjoyed of learning in his travels what may be called military geography, naturally tended to qualify him for writing intelligibly on military affairs. On this subject Achilles, it is probable, communicated information to his preceptor Chiron. When we reflect on these circumstances, we shall the less wonder that his accounts of battles and sieges, and in general of all the operations of war, should be so copious, and at the same time so conceivable and satisfactory. It is not unnatural on this occasion to call to mind, that the historian Poly bins, so justly renowned for his knowledge of both civil and military affairs, was tutor to Scipio Africanus.
me of Quintus Curtius was forged by an Italian, who composed that history, or romance as it has been called, about three hundred years ago; yet why so good a Latin writer,
, is the name, or assumed name,
of a Latin historian, who has written the actions of Alexander the Great, in ten books; the two first of which are
indeed not extant, but yet are so well supplied by Freinshemius, as to be thought equal to the others. Where
this author was born, and when he lived, are disputed
points among the learned, and never likely to be settled.
Some have fancied, from the elegant style of his history,
that he must have lived in or near the Augustan age; but
there are no explicit testimonies to confirm this opinion;
'and a judgment formed upon the single circumstance of
style will always be found precarious. Others place him
in the reign of Vespasian, and others have brought him
down so low as to Trajan’s: Gibbon is inclined to place
him in the time of Gordian, in the middle of the third
century; and some have imagined that the name of Quintus
Curtius was forged by an Italian, who composed that history, or romance as it has been called, about three hundred
years ago; yet why so good a Latin writer, who might have
gained the reputation of the first Latin scholar of his time,
should have been willing to sacrifice his glory to that of an
imaginary Quintus Curtius, is a question yet to be resolved. On the other hand it is certain that Quintus Curtius was an admired historian of the romantic ages. He is
quoted in the “Policraticon
” of John of Salisbury, who
died in the year he profited much by frequently looking into this author.
” All
this is decidedly against the opinion that Quintus Curtiuis a forgery of only three hundred years old.
, a cardinal, so called from Cusa, the place of his birth, was born in 1401. His parents
, a cardinal, so called from Cusa,
the place of his birth, was born in 1401. His parents were
mean and poor; and it was his own personal merit which
raised him to the height of dignity he afterwards attained.
He was a man of extraordinary parts and learning, particularly famous for his vast knowledge in law and divinity,
and a great natural philosopher and geometrician. Nicholas V. made him a cardinal by the title of St. Peter ad
viucula, in 1448; and two years after, bishop of Brixia.
In 1451 he was sent legate into Germany, to preach the
crusade, but not succeeding in this attempt, he performed
the more meritorious service of reforming some monasteries
which he visited, and of establishing some new rules relating to ecclesiastical discipline. He returned to Rome
under Calixtus III. and afterwards was made governor of it
by Pius II. during his absence at Mantua, where he was
chief concerter and manager of the war against the Turks.
He died at Todi, a city of Umbria, in 1464, aged sixtythree years. His body was interred at Rome; but his
heart, it is said, was carried to a church belonging to the
hospital of St. Nicholas, which he had founded near Cusa,
and where he collected a most noble and ample library of
Greek and Latin authors. He left many excellent works
behind him, which were printed in three volumes at Basil,
in 1565. The first volume contains all his metaphysical
tracts, in which he is very abstruse and profound; the
second, his controversial pieces, and others which relate
to the discipline of the church; the third, his mathematical, geographical, and astronomical works. It is said of
Cusa, that before he was made a cardinal, he had taken
the freedom to reprehend some errors and misdemeanours
in the pope; and there are some instances in his works,
where he has made no scruple to detect and expose the
lying sophistries and false traditions of his church. In his
piece entitled “Catholic Concord,
” he has acknowledged
the vanity and groundlessness of that famous donation of
Constantine the Great to Sylvester, bishop of Rome. He
gained considerable reputation by his “Cribratio Alcorani.
”
The Turks had taken Constantinople in 14-53, which
seems to have given occasion to his writing this book, by
way of antidote, as he proposed it, to the doctrines of the
Koran, which were now in so fair a way of being spread
through the western parts of the world. It appears by the
dedication, that it was not written till after the loss of that
city being inscribed to Pius II. who did not enter on
the papacy till the Turks had been about three years in.
possession of it. It is a very learned and judicious performance.