est hominis omnia sibi remittere,'-(' it is usual for men to overlook their own faults,') saith Velleius of all; it holdeth most properly in this people. He is very kind-hearted to himself, and thinketh himself as free from wants as he is full; so much he hath in him the nature of a Chinese, that he thinketh all men blind but himself. In this private self-conceitedness he hateth the Spaniard, loveth not the English, and contemneth the German; himself is the only courtier and complete gentleman, but it is his own glass which he seeth in. Out of this conceit of his own excellency, and partly out of a shallowness of brain, he is very liable to exceptions; the least distaste that can be draweth his sword, and a minute's pause sheatheth it to your hand; afterward, if you beat him into better manners, he shall take it kindly, and cry, serviteur. In this one thing they are wonderfully like the devil; meekness or submission makes them insolent; a little resistance putteth them to their heels, or makes them your spaniels. In a word (for I have held him too long), he is a walking vanity in a new fashion.

I will give you now a taste of his table, which you shall find in a measure furnished (I speak not of the peasant), but not with so full a manner as with us. Their beef they cut out into such chops, that that which goeth there for a laudable dish, would be thought here a university commons, new served from the hatch. A loin of mutton serves amongst them three roastings, besides the hazard of making pottage with the rump. Fowl, also, they have in good plenty, especially such as the king found in Scotland; to say truth, that which they have is sufficient for nature and a friend, were it not for the mistress or the kitchen wench. I have heard much fame of French cooks, but their skill lieth not in the neat handling of beef and mutton. They have (as generally have all this nation) good fancies, and are special fellows for the making of puff-pastes, and the ordering of banquets. Their trade is not to feed the belly, but the palate. It is now time you were set down, where the first thing you must do is to say your grace; private graces are as ordinary there as private masses, and from thence I think they learned them. That done, fall to where you like best; they observe no method in their eating, and if you look for a carver, you may rise fasting. When you are risen, if you can digest the sluttishness of the cookery (which is most abominable at first sight), I dare trust you in a garrison. Follow him to church, and there he will show himself most irreligious and irreverent: I speak not of all, but the general. At a mass, in Cordeliers' church in Paris, I saw two French papists, even when the most sacred mystery of their faith was celebrating, break out into such a blasphemous and atheistical laughter, that even an Ethnic would have hated it; it was well they were Catholics, otherwise some French hothead or other would have sent them laughing to Pluto.

The French language is, indeed, very sweet and delectable: it is cleared of all harshness, by the cutting and leaving out the consonants, which maketh it fall off the tongue very volubly; yet, in my opinion, it is rather elegant than copious; and, therefore, is much troubled for want of words to find out paraphrases. It expresseth very much of itself in the action; the head, body, and shoulders, concur all in the pronouncing of it; and he that hopeth to speak it with good grace, must have something in him of a mimic. It is enriched with a full number of significant proverbs, which is a great help to the French humour in scoffing; and very full of courtship, which maketh all the people complimental. The poorest cobbler in the village hath his court cringes, and his eau benite de cour; his court holy-water as perfectly as the prince of Condé.

WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH, like his contemporary Usher, was one of those pillars of the Church of England, whose opposition to Romanism was uncompromising. He was born at Oxford, in October, 1602, and having, until the sixteenth year of his age, pursued preparatory studies at a private

grammar-school in his native place, he then entered Trinity College, in Oxford university, whence he took both of his degrees, and of which he eventually became a fellow. He was early destined for the clerical office, and his studies, therefore, were chiefly directed to preparation for its sacred duties; but he, at the same time, gave sufficient attention to other branches of learning, to become a respectable poet, and an accomplished mathematician. Having resolved to take orders, his fellowship enabled him to remain at Oxford, and there prosecute his studies in divinity without embarrassment. There were, through the indulgence of the king, residing at this period, in the vicinity of Oxford, many Romanists of extensive literary attainments, among whom John Perse, or, as he is usually called, Fisher, a Jesuit, was the most conspicuous. This cunning priest took every opportunity of coming in contact with university students, and as Chillingworth had early acquired a love of disputation, and great skill in argument, he was the frequent object of Perse's attacks. Long practice in disputation eventually induced a habit of doubting to such an extent, that his opinions became unsettled on almost all subjects, insomuch that the Jesuit succeeded in arguing him into a belief of the doctrines of Popery. The main argument that led to this result was that which maintained the necessity of an infallible living guide in matters of faith, to which character the Romish church appeared to him to be best entitled. In consequence of the effect thus wrought upon his mind, Chillingworth left Oxford and repaired to the Jesuit's College at Douay, in France; where he continued his theological studies, until induced, by the correspondence of Laud, his godfather, and now bishop of London, to return to England. On his return he re-entered the university of Oxford, where, after additional study of the points of difference, he declared in favor of the Protestant faith. This necessarily drew him into severe controversies, in which he employed the arguments that were afterward methodically arranged and exhibited in his famous work entitled The Religion of the Protestants a Safe Way to Salvation, published in 1637. This treatise, which has placed its author in the first rank of religious controversialists, is a model of perspicuous reasoning, and one of the ablest defences of the Protestant cause ever produced. In it the writer maintains that the Scriptures are the only rule to which appeal ought to be made in theological disputes; and that the Apostles' Creed embraces all the necessary points of faith.

The latitudinarianism of Chillingworth brought upon him the appellation of Arian, and Socinian; and his character of orthodoxy was still farther shaken by his refusal to accept of preferment on condition of subscribing to the thirty-nine articles. His scruples having, however, at length been overcome, he was promoted, in 1638, to the chancellorship of Salisbury. During the civil war, he zealously adhered to the royal party, and even at the siege of Gloucester, in 1643, called his mathematical knowledge into requisition, and acted as engineer. Soon after, having accompanied Lord Hopton, general of the king's forces in the west, to Arundel Castle, in Sussex, he was

there taken prisoner on the ninth of December, 1643, by the parliamentary forces under the command of Sir William Waller, who obliged the forces of the castle to surrender. Being much out of health, and not able to accompany the garrison to London, Chillingworth was permitted to retire. to Chichester, where he was lodged in the bishop's palace, and soon after died, at the early age of forty-two.

Lord Clarendon, who was one of his intimate friends, has drawn the following character of this eminent divine :-'He was a man of so great subtilty of understanding, and so rare a temper in debate, that, as it was im possible to provoke him to any passion, so it was very difficult to keep a man's self from being a little discomposed by his sharpness and quickness of argument, and instances, in which he had a rare facility, and a great advantage over all the men I ever knew.' Writing to a Romanist, in allusion to the changes of his own faith, Chillingworth says:-'I know a man, that of a moderate Protestant turned a Papist, and the day that he did so, was convicted in his conscience that his yesterday's opinion was an error. The same man afterward, upon better consideration, became a doubting Papist, and of a doubting Papist to a confirmed Protestant. And yet this man thinks himself no more to blame for all these changes, than a traveller, who, using all diligence to find the right way to some remote city, did yet mistake it, and after find his error and amend it. Nay, he stands upon his justification so far, as to maintain that his alterations, not only to you, but also from you, by God's mercy, were the most satisfactory actions to himself that ever he did, and the greatest victories that ever he obtained over himself, and his affections, in those things which in this world are most precious.' In the same liberal spirit is the whole of Chillingworth's great work written.

Besides 'The Religion of the Protestants a Safe Way to Salvation,' Chillingworth published a collection of nine sermons preached before Charles the First, many of which are of unusual merit. From one of these sermons we extract the following animated expostulation with his noble hearers upon a very delicate subject. The text upon which the discourse is founded is the following:-The fool hath said in his heart there is no God.'

AGAINST DUELLING.

But how is this doctrine (of the forgiveness of injuries) received in the world? What counsel would men, and those none of the worst sort, give thee in such a case ? How would the soberest, discreetest, well-bred Christian advise thee? Why, thus : If thy brother or thy neighbour have offered thee an injury, or an affront, forgive him? By no means; thou art utterly undone, and lost in reputation with the world, if thou dost forgive him. What is to be done, then? Why, let not thy heart take rest, let all other business and employment be laid aside, till thou hast his blood. How? A man's blood for an injurious, passionate speech-for a disdainful look? Nay, that is not all: that thou mayst gain among men the reputation of a discreet, well-tempered murderer, be sure thou killest him not in passion, when thy blood is hot and boiling with the provocation; but proceed with as great temper and settledness of reason, with as much discretion and preparedness as thou wouldst to the com

munion after several days' respite, that it may appear it is thy reason guides thee, and not thy passion, invite him kindly and courteously into some retired place, and there let it be determined whether his blood or thine shall satisfy the injury.

Oh, thou holy Christian religion! Whence is it that thy children have sucked this inhuman poisonous blood, these raging fiery spirits? For if we shall inquire of the heathen, they will say, They have not learned this from us; or of the Mohammedans, they will answer, We are not guilty of it. Blessed God! that it should become a most sure settled course for a man to run into danger and disgrace with the world, if he shall dare to perform a commandment of Christ, which is as necessary for him to do, if he have any hopes of attaining heaven, as meat and drink is for the maintaining of life! That ever it should enter into Christian hearts to walk so curiously and exactly contrary unto the ways of God! That whereas he sees himself every day and hour almost, contemned and despised by thee, who art his servant, his creature, upon whom he might, without all possible imputation of unrighteousness, pour down all the vials of his wrath and indignation; yet he, notwithstanding, is patient and long-suffering toward thee, hoping that his long-suffering may lead thee to repentance, and beseeching thee daily by his ministers to be reconciled unto him; and yet thou, on the other side, for a distempered passionate speech or less, should take upon thee to send thy neighbour's soul, or thine own, or likely both, clogged and oppressed with all your sins unrepented of, (for how can repentance possibly consist with such a resolution ?) before the tribunal seat of God, to expect your final sentence; utterly depriving yourself of all blessed means which God has contrived for thy salvation, and putting thyself in such an estate, that it shall not be in God's power almost to do thee any good. Pardon, I beseech you, my earnestness, almost intemperateness, seeing that it hath proceeded from so just, and warrantable a ground, and since it is in your power to give rules of honour and refutation to the whole kingdom, do you not teach others to be ashamed of this inseparable badge of your religion--charity and forgiving of offences: give men leave to be Christians without danger or dishonour; or if religion will not work with you, yet let the laws of that state wherein you live, the earnest desires and care of your righteous prince prevail with you.

JOHN GAUDEN was a theologian of a far more worldly and ambitious character than either of the three preceding divines. He was the son of the vicar of Mayfield, in Essex, and was born in 1605. Having prepared for the university at a grammar-school in Suffolk, at sixteen years of age, he entered St. John's College, Cambridge, where he soon became distinguished for his scholarship, and at the usual time took his successive degrees. In 1630, he married the daughter of Sir William Russel, of Chippenhamme in Cambridgeshire, and was immediately after presented to the vicarage of that place. He also obtained the rectory of Brightwell, in Berkshire; and as this was near Oxford, he entered Wadham College of that university, and became tutor to two of his father-in-law's sons: several other young gentlemen, and some noblemen were also placed under his care. In this situation he passed about five years, faithfully regarding those under his care, and at the same time devoting his leisure hours with such untiring industry to his studies, that, in 1835, he took the degree of bachelor of divinity, and five years after, that of doctor.

When about thirty years of age, Gauden added to his other duties, the chaplaincy to the earl of Warwick, one of the Presbyterian leaders of that

period; and being of a temporizing disposition, he not only professed the opinions current with the earl's party, but, in 1640, preached before the house of commons a sermon which gave so much satisfaction, that the members gave him a vote of thanks, and also presented him with a silver tankard. Next year the rich deanery of Bocking, in Essex, was added to his preferments; all of which, when the Presbyterian form of church government and worship was substituted for the Episcopal, he kept by conforming to the new order of things, though not without apparent reluc

tance.

When the army resolved to impeach and try the king, in 1648, Gauden published A Religious and Loyal Protestation against their purposes and proceedings. This tract was followed in subsequent years by various other pieces, in defence of the cause of the royalists. But his grand service to that party consisted in writing the famous Ikon Basiliké; or the Portraiture of his Most Sacred Majesty in his Solitude and Sufferings-a work professing to emanate from the pen of Charles the First himself, and to contain the devout meditations of his latter days. It was the intention of Gauden to publish the 'Portraiture,' before the execution of the king, as an attempt to save his life, by working upon the feelings of the people; but either from the difficulty of getting it printed, or some other cause, it did not appear till several days after his majesty's death. The sensation which it produced in the unfortunate monarch's favor was extraordinary. 'It is not easy,' says Hume, 'to conceive the general compassion excited toward the king by the publishing, at so critical a juncture, a work so full of piety, meekness, and humanity. Many have not scrupled to ascribe to that book the subsequent restoration of the royal family. Milton compares its effects to those which were wrought on the tumultuous Romans by Antony's reading to them the will of Cæsar.' So eagerly and universally was the book perused by the nation, that it passed through fifty editions in a single year; and probably through its influence the title of Royal Martyr was applied to the king. As a sample of the 'Ikon,' we present the following meditations upon The Various Events of the Civil War:

“The various successes of this unhappy war have at least afforded me variety of good meditations. Sometimes God was pleased to try me with victory, by worsting my enemies, that I might know how with moderation and thanks to own and use his power, who is only the true Lord of Hosts, able, when he pleases, to repress the confidence of those that fought against me with so great advantages for power and number.

From small beginnings on my part, he let me see that I was not wholly forsaken by my people's love or his protection.

Other times God was pleased to exercise my patience, and teach me not to trust in the arm of flesh, but in the living God.

me.

My sins sometimes prevailed against the justice of my cause; and those that were with me wanted not matter and occasion for his just chastisement, both of them and Nor were my enemies less punished by that prosperity, which hardened them to continue that injustice by open hostility, which was begun by most riotous and unparliamentary tumults.