the prophecies of Scripture; and that, when writing on that subject, he was under the guidance of a special providence. He was, moreover, credulous as to apparitions and witchcraft, but in this differed little from many intelligent and learned contemporaries. His works, though now little read, were extremely popular in the latter half of the seventeenth century. The principal of them are, The Mystery of Godliness, The Mystery of Iniquity, A Discourse on the Immortality of the Soul, Ethical and Metaphysical Manuals, several treatises against atheism and idolatry, and a dull and tedious poem, entitled A Platonic Song of the Soul. The following two stanzas are a favourable specimen of the last-named work : [The Soul and Body.] Like to a light fast lock'd in lanthorn dark, [Nature of the Evidence of the Existence of God.] When I say that I will demonstrate that there is a God, I do not promise that I will always produce such arguments that the reader shall acknowledge so strong, as he shall be forced to confess that it is utterly unpossible that it should be otherwise; but they shall be such as shall deserve full assent, and win full assent from any unprejudiced mind. For I conceive that we may give full assent to that which, notwithstanding, may possibly be otherwise ; which I shall illustrate by several examples :-Suppose two men got to the top of Mount Athos, and there viewing a stone in the form of an altar with ashes on it, and the footsteps of men on those ashes, or some words, if you will, as Optimo Maximo, or To agnosto Theo, or the like, written or scrawled out upon the ashes; and one of them should cry out, Assuredly here have been some men that have done this. But the other, more nice than wise, should reply, Nay, it may possibly be otherwise; for this stone may have naturally grown into this very shape, and the seeming ashes may be no ashes, that is, no remainders of any fuel burnt there; but some unexplicable and unperceptible motions of the air, or other particles of this And spread its joyful beams as bright as summer's day. fluid matter that is active everywhere, have wrought Even so the soul, in this contracted state, At this hole hears, the sight must ray from thence, Like naked lamp she is one shining sphere, Of the prose composition of Dr More, the subjoined extracts, the first from his 'Mystery of Godliness,' and the second from An Antidote against Atheism,' will serve as specimens :- some parts of the matter into the form and nature of ashes, and have fridged and played about so, that they have also figured those intelligible characters in the same. But would not anybody deem it a piece of weakness, no less than dotage, for the other man one whit to recede from his former apprehension, but as fully as ever to agree with what he pronounced first, notwithstanding this bare possibility of being other wise? So of anchors that have been digged up, either in plain fields or mountainous places, as also the Roman urns with ashes and inscriptions, as Severianus Ful. Linus, and the like, or Roman coins with the effigies and names of the Caesars on them, or that which is more ordinary, the skulls of men in every churchyard, with the right figure, and all those necessary perforations for the passing of the vessels, besides those conspicuous [Devout Contemplation of the Works of God.] hollows for the eyes and rows of teeth, the os stylocides, ethoeides, and what not. If a man will say of them, Whether, therefore, our eyes be struck with that that the motions of the particles of the matter, or more radiant lustre of the sun, or whether we behold some hidden spermatic power, has gendered these, both that more placid and calm beauty of the moon, or be anchors, urns, coins, and skulls, in the ground, he doth refreshed with the sweet breathings of the open air, but pronounce that which human reason must admit or be taken up with the contemplation of those pure is possible. Nor can any man ever so demonstrate sparkling lights of the stars, or stand astonished at that those coins, anchors, and urns, were once the the gushing downfalls of some mighty river, as that artifice of men, or that this or that skull was once a of Nile, or admire the height of some insuperable part of a living man, that he shall force an acknowand inaccessible rock or mountain or with a plea-ledgment that it is impossible that it should be othersant horror and chillness look upon some silent wood, or solemn shady grove; whether the face of heaven smile upon us with a cheerful bright azure, or look upon us with a more sad and minacious countenance, dark pitchy clouds being charged with thunder and lightning to let fly against the earth; whether the air be cool, fresh, and healthful; or whether it be sultry, contagious, and pestilential, so that, while we gasp for life, we are forced to draw in a sudden and inevitable death; whether the earth stand firm, and prove favourable to the industry of the artificer; or whether she threaten the very foundations of our buildings with trembling and tottering earthquakes, accompanied with remugient echoes and ghastly murmurs from below; whatever notable emergencies happen for either good or bad to us, these are the Joves and Vejoves that we worship, which to us are not many, but one God, who has the only power to save or destroy. And therefore, from whatever part of this magnificent temple of his-the world-he shail send forth his voice, our hearts and eyes are presently directed thitherward with fear, love, and veneration. wise. But yet I do not think that any man, without doing manifest violence to his faculties, can at all suspend his assent, but freely and fully agree that this or that skull was once a part of a living man, and that these anchors, urns, and coins, were certainly once made by human artifice, notwithstanding the possibility of being otherwise. And what I have said of assent is also true in dissent; for the mind of man, not crazed nor prejudiced, will fully and irreconcilably disagree, by its own natural sagacity, where, notwithstanding, the thing that it doth thus resolvedly and undoubtedly reject, no wit of man can prove impossible to be true. As if we should make such a fiction as this-that Archimedes, with the same individual body that he had when the soldiers slew him, is now safely intent upon his geometrical figures under ground, at the centre of the earth, far from the noise and din of this world, that might disturb his meditations, or distract him in his curious delineations he makes with his rod upon the dust; which no man living can prove impossible. Yet if any man does not as irreconcilably dissent from both in church and state. When Cromwell usurped *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. * * 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 on their errors; for hereby you engage their honour in the business, and they defend their errors as themselves, and stir up all their wit and ability to oppose you. In controversies, it is fierce opposition which is the bellows to kindle a resisting zeal; when, if they be neglected, and their opinions lie awhile despised, they usually cool, and come again to themselves. Men are so loath to be drenched with the truth, that I am no more for going that way to work; and, to confess the truth, I am lately much prone to the contrary extreme, to be too indifferent what men hold, and to keep my judgment to myself, and never to mention anything wherein I differ from another on anything which I think I know more than he; or, at least, if he receive it not presently, to silence it, and leave him to his own opinion; and I find this effect is mixed 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 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 contro versies 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. [Desire of Approbation.] I am much less regardful of the approbation of man, and set much lighter by contempt or applause, than 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. [Change in Baxter's Estimate of his Own and other Men's Knowledge.] Heretofore I knew much less than now, and yet was not half so much acquainted with my ignorance. I had a great delight in the daily new discoveries which I made, and of the light which shined in upon me (like a man that cometh into a country where he never was before); but I little knew either how imperfectly I understood those very points whose discovery so much delighted me, nor how much might be said against them, nor how many things I was yet a stranger to: but now I find far greater darkness upon all things, and perceive how very little it is that we know, in comparison of that which we are ignorant of, and have far meaner thoughts of my own understanding, though I must needs know that it is better furnished than it was then. 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 controversies 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 impediments. 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 familiarity 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 a 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 publish them. 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 JOHN OWEN. 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 cow! door, and never spake 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 foolishess 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.] 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. I cannot forget, that in my youth, in those late Clarendon, who offered him a preferment in the After the Restoration, he was favoured by Lord times, when we lost the labours of some of our conformable godly teachers, for not reading publicly the of Dr Owen did not permit him to do. The persechurch if he would conform; but this the principles book of sports and dancing on the Lord's Day, one of cution of the nonconformists repeatedly disposed my father's own tenants was the town piper, hired by him to emigrate to New England, but attachment to the year (for many years together), and the place of the dancing assembly was not an hundred yards from his native country prevailed. Notwithstanding his our door. We could not, on the Lord's Day, either decided hostility to the church, the amiable disposi read a chapter, or pray, or sing a psalm, or catechise, tions and agreeable manners of Dr Owen procured or instruct a servant, but with the noise of the pipe him much esteem from many eminent churchmen, and tabor, and the shoutings in the street, continually among whom was the king himself, who on one ocin our ears. Even among a tractable people, we were casion sent for him, and, after a conversation of two the common scorn of all the rabble in the streets, and hours, gave him a thousand guineas to be distributed called puritans, precisians, and hypocrites, because we among those who had suffered most from the recent rather chose to read the Scriptures than to do as they persecution. He was a man of extensive learning, did; though there was no savour of nonconformity in and most estimable character. As a preacher, he our family. And when the people by the book were was eloquent and graceful, and displayed a degree of allowed to play and dance out of public service time, moderation and liberality not very common among they could so hardly break off their sports, that many the sectaries with whom he was associated. His a time the reader was fain to stay till the piper and extreme industry is evinced by the voluminousplayers would give over. Sometimes the morris-dan-ness of his publications, which amount to no fewer cers would come into the church in all their linen, than seven volumes in folio, twenty in quarto, and and scarfs, and antic-dresses, with morris-bells jing- about thirty in octavo. Among these are a collecling at their legs; and as soon as common prayer was tion of Sermons, An Exposition on the Epistle to the read, did haste out presently to their play again. Hebrews, A Discourse of the Holy Spirit, and The Divine Original and Authority of the Scriptures. [Theological Controversies.] 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 censurngs 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 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 |