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such a fable as this, as from any falsehood imaginable, assuredly that man is next door to madness or dotage, or does enormous violence to the free use of his faculties.
During the same period, some writers of eminence appeared among those bodies of Protestant Christians who did not conform to the rules of the established church. The most celebrated of these are Baxter, Owen, Calamy, Flavel, Fox, Barclay, Penn, and Bunyan.
RICHARD BAXTER (1615-1691) is generally esteemed the most eminent of the nonconformist
devoted to the cause of piety and good morals, esteeming worth in whatever denomination it was found; and one who, to simplicity of manners, added much sagacity as an observer of human affairs. By many even of his contemporaries his merits were admirers he had the honour to reckon Dr Barrow, amply acknowledged; and among his friends and Bishop Wilkins, and Sir Matthew Hale. Baxter engaged in many controversies, chiefly against the principles of the Antinomians; but his writings on other subjects are likewise numerous. The remark of one of his biographers, that the works of this industrious author are sufficient to form a library of themselves, is hardly overcharged, for not fewer than one hundred and sixty-eight publications are named in the catalogue of his works. Their contents, which include bodies of practical and theoretical divinity, are of course very various; none of them are now much read, except the practical pieces, espe cially those entitled The Saint's Everlasting Rest, and A Call to the Unconverted. The latter was so popular when published, that 20,000 copies are said to have been sold in a single year. His work entitled The Certainty of the World of Spirits fully evinced by unquestionable Histories of Apparitions and Witchcrafts, Operations, Voices, &c., is interesting to the curious. Baxter wrote a candid, liberal, and rational Narrative of the most Memorable Passages of his Life and Times, which appeared in 1696, a few years after his death. It is highly instructive, and, like Baxter's writings generally, was a favourite book of Dr Johnson. Our character of this production will be fully borne out by the following ex
divines of this period. His first employment was that of master of the free school at Dudley, in which town he afterwards became distinguished as a preacher, first in connexion with the established church, and subsequently as a dissenting minister. His labours there are said to have been of marked utility in improving the moral character of the inhabitants, and increasing their respect for religion. Though he sided with parliament during the civil war, he was a zealous advocate of order and regular government both in church and state. When Cromwell usurped the supreme power, Baxter openly expressed his disapprobation, and, in a conference with the Protector, plainly told him that the people of England considered monarchy a blessing, the loss of which they deplored. After the Restoration, he was appointed one of the royal chaplains, but, like Dr Owen, refused a bishopric offered him by Lord Clarendon. During the persecution of the nonconformists, he was occa
sionally much molested in the performance of his ministerial duties; in 1685, he was, on frivolous grounds, condemned by the infamous Jeffreys for sedition, but by the king's favour obtained a release from the heavy fine imposed upon him on this occasion. Baxter, who was a man of enlarged and liberal views, refrained from joining any of those sects into which the dissenters were split; and he was in consequence generally regarded with suspicion and dislike by the more narrow-minded of them. His character was of course exposed to much obloquy in his lifetime, but is now impartially judged of, posterity having agreed to look upon him as ardently
[Fruits of Experience of Human Character.]
I now see more good and more evil in all men than heretofore I did. I see that good men are not so good as I once thought they were, but have more imperfections; and that nearer approach and fuller trial doth make the best appear more weak and faulty than their admirers at a distance think. And I find that few are so bad as either malicious enemies or censorious separating professors do imagine. In some, indeed, find that human nature is corrupted into a greater likeness to devils than I once thought any on earth had been. But even in the wicked, usually there is more for grace to make advantage of, and more to testify for God and holiness, than I once believed there had been.
I less admire gifts of utterance, and bare profession of religion, than I once did; and have much more charity for many who, by the want of gifts, do make almost all that could pray movingly and fluently, and an obscurer profession than they. I once thought that talk well of religion, had been saints. But experi sist with high profession; and I have met with divers ence hath opened to me what odious crimes may conobscure persons, not noted for any extraordinary profession, or forwardness in religion, but only to live a quiet blameless life, whom I have after found to have long lived, as far as I could discern, a truly godly and accident kept secret from other men's observation. sanctified life; only, their prayers and duties were by Yet he that upon this pretence would confound the godly and the ungodly, may as well go about to lay heaven and hell together.
[Baxter's Judgment of his Writings.] that my own judgment is, that fewer, well studied and Concerning almost all my writings, I must confess polished, had been better; but the reader who can
*See note, page 425.
safely censure the books, is not fit to censure the author, unless he had been upon the place, and acquainted with all the occasions and circumstances. Indeed, for the Saint's Rest,' I had four months' vacancy to write it, but in the midst of continual languishing and medicine; but, for the rest, I wrote them in the crowd of all my other employments, which would allow me no great leisure for polishing and exactness, or any ornament; so that I scarce ever wrote one sheet twice over, nor stayed to make any blots or interlinings, but was fain to let it go as it was first conceived; and when my own desire was rather to stay upon one thing long than run over many, some sudden occasions or other extorted almost all my writings from me; and the apprehensions of present usefulness or necessity prevailed against all other motives; so that the divines which were at hand with me still put me on, and approved of what I did, because they were moved by present necessities as well as I; but those that were far off, and felt not those nearer motives, did rather wish that I had taken the other way, and published a few elaborate writings; and I am ready myself to be of their mind, when I forgot the case that I then stood in, and have lost the sense of former motives. *
chief men that overvalue their own opinions have done by their controversies in the church; how some have destroyed charity, and some caused schisms by them, and most have hindered godliness in themselves and others, and used them to divert men from the serious prosecuting of a holy life; and, as Sir Francis Bacon saith in his Essay of Peace, that it is one great benefit of church peace and concord, that writing controversies is turned into books of practical devotion for increase of piety and virtue.' 2. And I find that it is much more for most men's good and edification, to converse with them only in that way of godliness which all are agreed in, and not by touching upon differences to stir up their corruptions, and to tell them of little more of your knowledge than what you find them willing to receive from you as mere learners; and therefore to stay till they crave information of you. We mistake men's diseases when we think there needeth nothing to cure their errors, but only to bring them the evidence of truth. Alas! there are many distempers of mind to be removed before men are apt to receive that evidence. And, therefore, that church is happy where order is kept up, and the abilities of the ministers command a reverend submission from the hearers, and where all are in Christ's school, in the distinct ranks of teachers and learners; for in a learning way men are ready to receive the truth, but in a disputing way, they come armed against it with prejudice and animosity.
And this token of my weakness so accompanied those my younger studies, that I was very apt to start up controversies in the way of my practical writings, and also more desirous to acquaint the world with all that I took to be the truth, and to , assault those books by name which I thought did tend to deceive them, and did contain unsound and dangerous doctrine; and the reason of all this was, that I was then in the vigour of my youthful apprehensions, and the new appearance of any sacred truth, it was more apt to affect me, and be more highly valued, than afterwards, when commonness had dulled my delight; and I did not sufficiently discern then how much, in most of our controversies, is verbal, and upon mutual mistakes. And withal, I knew not how impatient divines were of being contradicted, nor how it would stir up all their powers to defend what they have once said, and to rise up against the truth which is thus thrust upon them, as the mortal enemy of their honour and I knew not how hardly men's minds are changed from their former apprehensions, be the evidence never so plain. And I have perceived that nothing so much hinders the reception of the truth as urging it on men
with too harsh importunity, and falling too heavily [Change in Baxter's Estimate of his Own and other Men's
on their errors; for hereby you engage their honour in the business, and they defend their errors as them- Heretofore I knew much less than now, and yet selves, and stir up all their wit and ability to oppose was not half so much acquainted with my ignorance. you. In controversies, it is fierce opposition which is I had a great delight in the daily new discoveries the bellows to kindle a resisting zeal; when, if they be which I made, and of the light which shined in upon neglected, and their opinions lie awhile despised, they me (like a man that cometh into a country where he usually cool, and come again to themselves. Men never was before); but I little knew either how imperare so loath to be drenched with the truth, that I am fectly I understood those very points whose discovery no more for going that way to work; and, to confess so much delighted me, nor how much might be said the truth, I am lately much prone to the contrary ex-against them, nor how many things I was yet a stranger treme, to be too indifferent what men hold, and to to: but now I find far greater darkness upon all things, keep my judgment to myself, and never to mention and perceive how very little it is that we know, in anything wherein I differ from another on anything comparison of that which we are ignorant of, and have which I think I know more than he; or, at least, if far meaner thoughts of my own understanding, though he receive it not presently, to silence it, and leave him I must needs know that it is better furnished than it to his own opinion; and I find this effect is mixed was then. according to its causes, which are some good and some bad. The bad causes are, 1. An impatience of men's weakness, and mistaking forwardness, and self-conceitedness. 2. An abatement of my sensible esteem of truths, through the long abode of them on my mind. Though my judgment value them, yet it is hard to be equally affected with old and common things, as with new and rare ones. The better causes are, 1. That I am much more sensible than ever of the necessity of living upon the principles of religion which we are all agreed in, and uniting in these; and how much mis- I
[Desire of Approbation.]
and set much lighter by contempt or applause, than I am much less regardful of the approbation of man, I did long ago. I am oft suspicious that this is not only from the increase of self-denial and humility, but partly from my being glutted and surfeited with human applause: and all worldly things appear most vain and unsatisfactory, when we have tried them most. But though I feel that this hath some hand in the effect, yet, as far as I can perceive, the knowledge of man's nothingness, and God's transcendent greatness, with whom it is that I have most to do, and the sense of the brevity of human things, and the nearness of eternity, are the principal causes of this effect; which some have imputed to self-conceitedness and morosity.
Accordingly, I had then a far higher opinion of learned persons and books than I have now; for what I wanted myself, I thought every reverend divine had attained and was familiarly acquainted with; and what books I understood not, by reason of the strangeness of the terms or matter, I the more admired, and thought that others understood their worth. But now experience hath constrained me against my will to know, that reverend learned men are imperfect, and know but little as well as I, especially those that think themselves the wisest ; and the better I am ac
quainted with them, the more I perceive that we are seduced ones believe them all, in despite of truth and all yet in the dark and the more I am acquainted charity; so in this age there have been such things with holy men, that are all for heaven, and pre-written against parties and persons, whom the writers tend not much to subtilties, the more I value and design to make odious, so notoriously false, as you honour them. And when I have studied hard to un- would think, that the sense of their honour, at least, derstand some abstruse admired book (as De Scientia should have made it impossible for such men to write. Dei, De Providentia circa Malum, De Decretis, De Præ- My own eyes have read such words and actions asdeterminatione, De Libertate Creaturæ,* &c.), I have but serted with most vehement, iterated, unblushing conattained the knowledge of human imperfection, and to fidence, which abundance of ear-witnesses, even of see that the author is but a man as well as I. their own parties, must needs know to have been altogether false: and therefore having myself now written this history of myself, notwithstanding my protestation that I have not in anything wilfully gone against the truth, I expect no more credit from the reader than the self-evidencing light of the matter, with concurrent rational advantages from persons, and things, and other witnesses, shall constrain him to, if he be a person that is unacquainted with the author himself, and the other evidences of his veracity and credibility.
And at first I took more upon my author's credit than now I can do ; and when an author was highly commended to me by others, or pleased me in some part, I was ready to entertain the whole; whereas now I take and leave in the same author, and dissent in some things from him that I like best, as well as from others.
[On the Credit due to History.]
I am much more cautelous in my belief of history than heretofore; not that I run into their extreme, that will believe nothing because they cannot believe all things. But I am abundantly satisfied by the experience of this age, that there is no believing two sorts of men, ungodly men and partial men; though an honest heathen, of no religion, may be believed, where enmity against religion biasseth him not; yet a debauched Christian, besides his enmity to the power and practice of his own religion, is seldom without some further bias of interest or faction; especially when these concur, and a man is both ungodly and ambitious, espousing an interest contrary to a holy heavenly life, and also factious, embodying himself with a sect or party suited to his spirit and designs; there is no believing his word or oath. If you read any man partially bitter against others, as differing from him in opinion, or as cross to his greatness, interest, or designs, take heed how you believe any more than the historical evidence, distinct from his word, compelleth you to believe. The prodigious lies which have been published in this age in matters of fact, with unblushing confidence, even where thousands or multitudes of eye and ear-witnesses knew all to be false, doth call men to take heed what history they believe, especially where power and violence affordeth that privilege to the reporter, that no man dare answer him, or detect his fraud; or if they do, their writings are all supprest. As long as men have liberty to examine and contradict one another, one may partly conjecture, by comparing their words, on which side the truth is like to lie. But when great men write history, or flatterers by their appointment, which no man dare contradict, believe it but as you are constrained. Yet, in these cases, I can freely believe history: 1. If the person show that he is acquainted with what he saith. 2. And if he show you the evidences of honesty and conscience, and the fear of God (which may be much perceived in the spirit of a writing). 3. If he appear to be impartial and charitable, and a lover of goodness and of mankind, and not possessed of malignity, or personal ill-will and malice, nor carried away by faction or personal interest. Conscionable men dare not lie: but faction and interest abate men's tenderness of conscience. And a charitable impartial heathen may speak truth in a love to truth, and hatred of a lie; but ambitious malice and false religion will not stick to serve themselves on any thing. * *Sure I am, that as the lies of the Papists, of Luther, Zwinglius, Calvin, and Beza, are visibly malicious and impudent, by the common plenary contradicting evidence, and yet the multitude of their
* These Latin titles of books signify, Of the Knowledge of God, Of Providence concerning Evil, Of Decrees, Of Predestination, Of the Liberty of the Creature.
[Character of Sir Matthew Hale.]
He was a man of no quick utterance, but spake with great reason. He was most precisely just; insomuch that, I believe, he would have lost all he had in the world rather than do an unjust act. Patient in hearing the most tedious speech which any man had to make for himself. The pillar of justice, the refuge of the subject who feared oppression, and one of the greatest honours of his majesty's government; for, with some other upright judges, he upheld the honour of the English nation, that it fell not into the reproach of arbitrariness, cruelty, and utter confusion. Every man that had a just cause, was almost past fear if he could but bring it to the court or assize where he was judge; for the other judges seldom contradicted him.
He was the great instrument for rebuilding London; for when an act was made for deciding all controver sies that hindered it, he was the constant judge, who for nothing followed the work, and, by his prudence and justice, removed a multitude of great impedi
His great advantage for innocency was, that he was no lover of riches or of grandeur. His garb was too plain; he studiously avoided all unnecessary famili arity with great persons, and all that manner of living which signifieth wealth and greatness. He kept no greater a family than myself. I lived in a small house, which, for a pleasant back opening, he had s mind to; but caused a stranger, that he might not be suspected to be the man, to know of me whether I were willing to part with it, before he would meddle with it. In that house he lived contentedly, without any pomp, and without costly or troublesome retinue or visitors; but not without charity to the poor. He continued the study of physics and mathematics still, as his great delight. He hath himself written four volumes in folio, three of which I have read, against atheism, Sadduceism, and infidelity, to prove first the Deity, and then the immortality of man's soul, and then the truth of Christianity and the Holy Scripture, answering the infidel's objections against Scripture. It is strong and masculine, only too tedious for impatient readers. He said he wrote it only at vacant hours in his circuits, to regulate his meditations, finding, that while he wrote down what he thought on, his thoughts were the easier kept close to work, and kept in a method. But I could not persuade him to pub lish them. I The conference which I had frequently with him, mostly about the immortality of the soul, and other philosophical and foundation points, was so edifying, that his very questions and objections did help me to more light than other men's solutions. Those who take none for religious who frequent not private meet
ings, &c., took him for an excellently righteous moral to call men that are within my hearing to more peaceman; but I, who heard and read his serious expres-able thoughts, affections, and practices. And my ensions of the concernments of eternity, and saw his love deavours have not been in vain, in that the ministers to all good men, and the blamelessness of his life, of the county where I lived were very many of such thought better of his piety than my own. When the a peaceable temper, and a great number more through people crowded in and out of my house to hear, he the land, by God's grace (rather than any endeavours openly showed me so great respect before them at the of mine), are so minded. But the sons of the cowl door, and never spake a word against it, as was no were exasperated the more against me, and accounted small encouragement to the common people to go on; him to be against every man that called all men to though the other sort muttered, that a judge should love and peace, and was for no man as in a contrary seem so far to countenance that which they took to be way. against the law. He was a great lamenter of the extremities of the times, and of the violence and foolishness of the predominant clergy, and a great desirer of such abatements as might restore us all to serviceableness and unity. He had got but a very small estate, though he had long the greatest practice, because he would take but little money, and undertake no more business than he could well despatch. He often offered to the lord chancellor to resign his place, when he was blamed for doing that which he supposed was justice. He had been the learned Selden's intimate friend, and one of his executors; and because the Hobbians and other infidels would have persuaded the world that Selden was of their mind, I desired him to tell me the truth therein. He assured me that Selden was an earnest professor of the Christian faith, and so angry an adversary to Hobbes, that he hath rated him out
of the room.
[Observance of the Sabbath in Baxter's Youth.]
I cannot forget, that in my youth, in those late times, when we lost the labours of some of our conformable godly teachers, for not reading publicly the book of sports and dancing on the Lord's Day, one of my father's own tenants was the town piper, hired by the year (for many years together), and the place of the dancing assembly was not an hundred yards from our door. We could not, on the Lord's Day, either read a chapter, or pray, or sing a psalm, or catechise, or instruct a servant, but with the noise of the pipe and tabor, and the shoutings in the street, continually in our ears. Even among a tractable people, we were the common scorn of all the rabble in the streets, and called puritans, precisians, and hypocrites, because we rather chose to read the Scriptures than to do as they did; though there was no savour of nonconformity in our family. And when the people by the book were allowed to play and dance out of public service time, they could so hardly break off their sports, that many a time the reader was fain to stay till the piper and players would give over. Sometimes the morris-dancers would come into the church in all their linen, and scarfs, and antic-dresses, with morris-bells jingling at their legs; and as soon as common prayer was read, did haste out presently to their play again.
My mind being these many years immersed in studies of this nature, and having also long wearied myself in searching what fathers and schoolmen have said of such things before us, and my genius abhorring confusion and equivocals, I came, by many years' longer study, to perceive that most of the doctrinal controversies among Protestants are far more about equivocal words than matter; and it wounded my soul to perceive what work both tyrannical and unskilful disputing clergymen had made these thirteen hundred years in the world! Experience, since the year 1643, till this year, 1675, hath loudly called me to repent of my own prejudices, sidings, and censurings of causes and persons not understood, and of all the miscarriages of my ministry and life which have been thereby caused; and to make it my chief work
DR JOHN OWEN (1616-1683), after studying at Oxford for the church of England, became a Presbyterian, but finally joined the Independents. He was highly esteemed by the parliament which executed the king, and was frequently called upon to preach before them. Cromwell, in particular, was so highly pleased with him, that, when going to Ireland, he insisted on Dr Owen accompanying him, for the purpose of regulating and superintending the college of Dublin. After spending six months in that city, Owen returned to his clerical duties in England, from which, however, he was again speedily called away by Cromwell, who took him in 1650 to Edinburgh, where he spent six months. Subsequently, he was promoted to the deanery of Christ-church college in Oxford, and soon after, to the vice-chancellorship of the university, which offices he held till Cromwell's death. Clarendon, who offered him a preferment in the After the Restoration, he was favoured by Lord of Dr Owen did not permit him to do. church if he would conform; but this the principles The persehim to emigrate to New England, but attachment to cution of the nonconformists repeatedly disposed his native country prevailed. Notwithstanding his decided hostility to the church, the amiable dispositions and agreeable manners of Dr Owen procured him much esteem from many eminent churchmen, casion sent for him, and, after a conversation of two among whom was the king himself, who on one ochours, gave him a thousand guineas to be distributed among those who had suffered most from the recent persecution. He was a man of extensive learning, and most estimable character. As a preacher, he was eloquent and graceful, and displayed a degree of moderation and liberality not very common among the sectaries with whom he was associated. His extreme industry is evinced by the voluminousness of his publications, which amount to no fewer than seven volumes in folio, twenty in quarto, and about thirty in octavo. Among these are a collection of Sermons, An Exposition on the Epistle to the Hebrews, A Discourse of the Holy Spirit, and The Divine Original and Authority of the Scriptures.
The style of Dr Owen merits little praise. He wrote too rapidly and carelessly to produce compositions either vigorous or beautiful. The graces of style, indeed, were confessedly held by him in contempt; for in one of his prefaces we find this plain declaration, Know, reader, that you have to do with a person who, provided his words but clearly express the sentiments of his mind, entertains a fixed and absolute disregard of all elegance and ornaments of speech.' The length of his sentences, and their intricate and parenthetical structure, often render them extremely tedious, and he is far from happy in the choice of the adjectives with which they are encumbered. In a word, his diction is, for the most part, dry, heavy, and pointless, and his ideas are seldom brought out with powerful effect. Robert Hall entertained a decided antipathy to the writings of this celebrated divine. I can't think how you
like Dr Owen,' said he to a friend; I can't read him with any patience; I never read a page of Dr Owen, sir, without finding some confusion in his thoughts, either a truism or a contradiction in terms.' 'Sir, he is a double Dutchman, floundering in a continent of mud.'* For moderation in controversy, Dr Owen was most honourably distinguished among the theological warriors of his age. As a controversial writer,' says his excellent biographer, Mr Orme, Owen is generally distinguished for calmness, acuteness, candour, and gentlemanly treatment of his opponents. He lived during a stormy period, and often experienced the bitterest provocation, but he very seldom lost his temper. He often handled the arguments of his adversaries very roughly, but he always saved their persons and feelings as much as possible. This the most of them were obliged to acknowledge.'+
EDMUND CALAMY (1600-1666) was originally a clergyman of the church of England, but had become a nonconformist before settling in London as a preacher in 1639. A celebrated production against episcopacy, called Smectymnuus, from the initials of the names of the writers, and in which Calamy was concerned, appeared in the following year. He was much in favour with the Presbyterian party; and, in his sermons, which were among the most popular of the time, occasionally indulged in violent political declamation; yet he was, on the whole, a moderate man, and disapproved of those forcible measures which terminated in the death of the king. Having exerted himself to promote the restoration of Charles II., he subsequently received the offer of a bishopric; but, after much deliberation, it was rejected. The passing of the act of uniformity in 1662, made him retire from his ministerial duties in the metropolis several years before his death. The latter event was hastened by the impression made on his mind by the great fire of London, a view of the smoking ruins having strongly and injuriously affected him. His sermons were of a plain and practical character; and five of them, published under the title of The Godly Man's Ark, or a City of Refuge in the Day of his Distress, acquired much popularity.
the dearly beloved of his soul in this world; and should he remove this and inflict those, you would account your present state a very comfortable state, and bless God to be as now you are. What think ye? Should God remove your present troubles, supply all your outward wants, give you the desire of your hearts in creative comforts, but hide his face from you, shoot his arrows into your souls, and cause the venom of them to drink up your spirits; should he leave you but a few days to the buffeting of Satan, and his blasphemous injections; should he hold your eyes but a few nights waking with horrors of conscience, tossing to and fro till the dawning of the day; should he lead you through the chambers of death, show you the visions of darkness, and make his terrors set themselves in array against you then tell men if you would not count it a choice mercy to be back again in your former necessitous condition, with peace of conscience; and count bread and water, with God's favour, a happy state? Oh, then, take heed of repining. Say not God deals hardly with you; but you provoke him to convince you, by your own sense and feeling, that he has worse rods than these for unsubmissive and froward children.
[Against Repining in the Season of Want.] This affliction, though great, is not such an affliction but God has far greater, with which he chastises * Greene's Reminiscences of the Rev. Robert Hall, second edition, pp. 67, 69.
Memoir prefixed to Owen's works, p. 358.
MATTHEW HENRY (1663-1714) is the last of the nonconformist divines of this period whom it seems necessary to mention. He was the son of a worthy clergyman in Flintshire, and for some time applied himself in London to the study of the law. Yielding to his natural inclination, however, he soon abandoned that pursuit, and turned his attention to theology, which he studied with much application and zeal. For twenty-five years he officiated as pastor of a congregation of Calvinistic dissenters at Chester, but in 1712 changed the scene of his labours to Hackney, in the neighbourhood of London, where he continued till his death. Of a variety of theological works published by this respectable divine, the largest and best known is his Expositions on the Bible, commonly called Henry's Commentary, originally printed in five volumes folio. This large and somewhat tedious production maintains considerable popularity among the Presbyterians. Dr Olinthus Gregory, in his Memoir of the Rev. Robert Hall, mentions of that eminent preacher, that for the last two years of his life he read daily two chapters of Matthew Henry's Commentary; a work which he had not before read consecutively, though he had long known and valued it. As he proceeded, he felt increasing interest and pleasure, greatly admiring the copiousness, variety, and pious ingenuity of the thoughts; the simplicity, strength, and pregnancy of the expressions. In the opinion of other judges, Hall's estimate of the work is much too high. By them the commentaries are viewed as frequently mere dilutions or expansions of the text into inferior and less significant, though more copious language. An intelligent and pious gentleman well
JOHN FLAVEL (1627-1691) was a zealous preacher at Dartmouth, where he was greatly molested for his nonconformity during the persecutions. His private character was highly respectable, and in the pulpit he was distinguished for the warmth, fluency, and variety of his devotional exercises, which, like his writings, were somewhat tinged with enthusiasm. His works, occupying two folio volumes, are written in a plain and perspicuous style, and some of them are still highly valued by persons of Calvinistic opinions. This remark applies more particularly to his Husbandry Spiritualised, and Navigation Spiritualised, in which the author extracts a variety of pious les-known to us, who studied the work carefully in early sons from natural objects and phenomena, and the life, used to express in strong language his regret common operations of life. Many of his sermons that his time had not been more profitably spent. have been published. The following passage is extracted from his work entitled A Saint Indeed; or, the Great Work of a Christian Opened and Pressed, in a Treatise on Keeping the Heart.
GEORGE FOX, the founder of the Society of Friends, or, as they are usually termed, Quakers, was one of the most prominent religious enthusiasts in an age which produced them in extraordinary abundance. He was the son of a weaver at Drayton, in Leices tershire, and was born in 1624. Having been apprenticed to a shoemaker who traded in wool and cattle, he spent much of his youth in tending sheep, an employment which allowed him to indulge his