he fell. Thus for inftance, when the bills of his life ; and even at his own fatal end, for continuance of the long parliament, the memory of it recurred upon him with and the attainder of the earl of Strafford great forrow and remorse. These are the had passed both houses, and the king was king's own reflections upon this matter in in the utmost perplexity, between the cla- his Eikon Bafilike: “It is a bad exchange, mours of the people and an onsatisfied to wound a man's own conscience thereby conscience, whether he should give the to salve state fores; to calm the storms of royal affent; at this dreadful time when popular discontents, by ftirring up a temthe populace flocked about Whitehall, and pest in a man's own borom." Nor hath accompanied their demand of justice with God's justice failed in the event and fad the loudest clamours, and most open me. consequences, to thew the world the falpaces; when rumours and conspiracies re. lacy of that maxim : “ Better one man founded in every one's ears; invasions perith (though unjustly) than the people and insurrections talked of ; and the whole be displeased or destroyed." In all likelination was raised into such a ferment, as hood I could never have suffered with my threatened some great and imminent con- people, greater calamities (yet with greater vulfion; the king demanded the advice of comfort) had i vindicated Strafford's inthe judges and bishops, what to do in nocenoy, at least by denying to fign that this intricate affair. On which ever fide destructive bill, according to that justice, he cast his eyes, he saw no resource, no which my conscience suggested to me, security ; all his servants, consulting their than I have done fince I gracified some own safety rather than their master's ho- men's unthankful importunities with so nour, declined interposing with their advice cruel a favour. And I have observed, between him and his parliament. The that those, who counselled me to sign that queen, terrified with the appearance of so bill, (tbe judges and bishops) have been lo mighty a danger, in tears pressed him to far from receiving the rewards of such insatisfy his people in this demand, which it gratiatings with the people, that no men was hoped would finally content them. have been harrasted and cruthed more than The major part of the bishops and of the they. He only hath been least vexed by king's intimate counsellors, urged on by them (Dr. Juxon) who counselled me not these fears and apprehensions, pressed the to consent against the vote of my own king to comply with the opinions of the conscience.". judges, and the votes of the parliament; In 1648, Bimop Juxon was one of those alledging that no other expedient could be divines who attended upon the king at found out to appease the enraged people; the treaty in the Ine of Wight; and, by and that the consequences of a furious mul- his majesty's particular defire, was pertitude would be very terrible. In this fadmitted to wait on him at Westminster, dilemma, the courage of bishop Juxon January 21st, 1648-9, “ which (as the Thone with the greatest luftre, and Mewed king faid) was no small refreshing to his itself not inferior to his other virtues. He fpirit, in that his uncomfortable condi. resolutely cold the king, that if be were notion.” The most part of that day was fatisfied in bis confciense, be ougbt by no means spent by the good bishop in prayer with to affent to is, spor any confideration in the and preaching to the king. From that world. Happy would it have been, if his time he was seldom abrent from him. On advice had been followed! But as the the 27th of January, the last day of the noble historian has remarked, no one trial, and before he was carried into Wert. ought to be reproached for his opinion, in minster-hall, his majesty and the bithop such a conjuncture, when without the gift were together in private, near an hour at of divination, it was impossible for any Cotton house. The same night after fenman to foresee, or once imagine the mile- tence, Colonel Hacker, who commanded rable events which happened in the con- the guards at St. James's, about the king, clufion ; and, therefore, as impossible to would have placed two musqueteers in the ward against, or discover the measures king's bed-chamber; but bishop Juxon proper to be taken to prevent them. and Mr. Herbert, apprehending the disturStrong compun&tion for his consent to bance it would give the king in his medithe bill against Strafford attended the un- cations, never left the colonel till he had fortunate Charles during all the remainder reverlod his order by withdrawing those

men. men, The king, bidding now farewell to put it on, he said to the executioner, does the world, spent the remainder of his my hair trouble you ?.... And then turning time in prayer, and other exercises of de to Dr. Juxon, the king faid, “I have a votion, and in conference with this meek good cause, and a gracious God on my and learned bishop, who (as Sir Thomas fide."1" There is but one ftage more Herbert expresses it) under God, was a (answered the bishop.) This stage is tur great support and comfort to him in his bulent and troublesome; it is a mort one: afflicted condition. That evening the but you may consider, it will soon carry bishop prayed with him, and read fome you a very great way: it will carry you select chapters out of the Holy Scriptures. from earth to heaven; and there you The next morning, being Sunday, January shall find a great deal of cordial joy and 28th, the bishop was early with the king, comfort." "I go (said the king) from a prayed with him, and preached on Romans corruptible to an incorruptible crown, ii. and 16th verse. On Monday he spent where no disturbance can be.” “You also most part of the day with his majesty, are exchanged (returned the bishop) from and prayed with him, not taking leave of a temporal to an eternal crown, a good him till some hours after night ; and at exchange.” Then the king took off his parting, the king desired him to come cloak and his George, and gave the latter early the next morning. He came accor- to Dr. Juxon, saying, with a particolarem. dingly at the appointed hour, and after phasis ; “REMEMBER " After the having continued a considerable time in execution, the pious bishop took care of prayer and meditation, attended his hap- the king's body, and accompanied it to less master from St. James's to Whitehall, the royal chapel at Windfor; standing walking through the park on the king's ready with the Common Prager book in right hand. When they came to White. his hand, to have performed his last duty hall, he prayed there again with his ma- to his kind master: but was not permitted jefty in his cabinet-chamber, and admini- by colonel Whitchcott, governor of the iftered the sacrament to him. To con- castle. The pious and forrowful bishop 'clude fo melancholy a foene, he attended now retired to his own manor of Little the pious Charles upon the scaffold, where Compton, in Gloucestershire, where he these words paffed between them: “Tho' spent several years in a retired and devout it may be very well known (faid the conditior; and now and then, for health's bifhop) your majesty's affection to reli- fake, and to divert the melancholy imprefgion, yet it may be expected, that you fion of his mind, rode a-hunting with some should say somewhat for the world's fatis- of the neighbouring loyal gentry. faction.” “I thank you very heartily, Thus he continued till the wonderful my lord, (replied the king) for that I had and happy event of the restoration, when almost forgotten it." And turning unto be was deservedly set at the head of the the people : “In troth, firs, (he continued) church of England, being translated to the my conscience in religion, I think, is very archbishopric of Canterbury, 'in Septemwell known to all the world, and there- ber 1660, and confirmed the 20th of that fore, I declare before you all, that I die a month in king Henry VIIth's chapel, ac Chriflian, according to the profession of Westminster. He repaired very much his the church of England, as I found it left palace at Lambeth, and rebuilt the great me by my father; and this honest and hall in the ancient form. He expended in good man, (pointing to Dr. Juxon) I think, buildings and reparations at Lambeth will witness it." His majesty then called palace and Croydon houfe, near 15000 to the bishop for his night-cap, and having pounds, they being almost ruined by .

• Great mysteries were supposed to be concealed under this expreflion, and the generals vehementiy infifted with bishop Juxon, that he mould inform them of the king's meaning. He told them, that the king having frequently charged him to inculcate on his son the forgiveness of his murderers, had taken this opportunity in the last moment of his life, when his commands, he supposed, would be regarded as sacred and inviolable, to reiterate that delire; and that the mild spirit of the unhappy fovereign, thus terminated its present course, by an act of benevolence towards his greatest coemies,

che the civil wars. He augmented the small drals, and other charitable uses ; in all, vicarages, whose great tithes were appro- to the amount of near five thousand priated to his see; and, by adding to the pounds. salaries of the rectors, made their livings In person he was comely, in difpoftion more comfortable, and sufficient to support active and lively, of great parts and temthemlelves and families, which they could per, full of ingenuity and meekness, not pot do before (happy would it be, if the apt to give offence to any, and willing to revenues of the clergy were established in do good to all: of great moderation, fina more equal manner, and that the unne- cerity, and integrity ; insomuch, that he cessary wealth of some of thein was was the delight of his time, and extorted taken off, and appropriated to the real a reverence and respect from those very wants of others!) Many other charities persons who had destroyed and ruined his the archbishop performed, during the short order. He was entirely void of ambition, tiine he was poflefled of his new dignity, or a defire of power : all his preferments and many more he would doubtless have were in a manner forced upon him. It done, had he enjoyed it longer. But be was with the greatest reluctance he acing broken with age and infirmities, and cepted of the treasurer's staff, well foreespecially with the most racking torture of seeing the envy and malice it would octhe stone, he died June 4th, 1663, aged cafion to him. He besides pleaded his 81, and was buried the gth of the fame own inabilities, but yielded at last to the im. month, in St. John's College chappel, Ox- portunities of Laud. He resigned it with ford, by the fide of his friend archbishop the greatest gladnels, as he had always difLaud. He bequeathed seven thousand liked it ; though no man, as has been bepounds to that college, which were after- fore remarked, ever discharged that office wards laid out in the purchase of three with more honour, and to the satisfaction hundred and fifty pounds per annum. He of all men. He published but a very few left also one hundred pounds to the poor things. In a word, he was a man of pri. of St. Giles's parish, in Oxford, the like to mitive fanctity, wisdom, piety, learning, four other parishes; and sums for the re- patience, charity, and all apoftolical vir pair of St. Paul's and Canterbury cache tues.


SELECT THOUGHTS on various Subjects, from BUTLER.

T HE more we examine the works ral, and applicable to any.' The reader 1 of Butler, the greater cause Thall will not be displeased with the follow.

we have to admire the depth of bis ing: genius, and general knowledge of man. “The Christian religion in the primitive kind; and may take it for granted, that time, was bred up under the greatert had he met with proper encouragement, tyranny in the world, and was propagated he would have diftinguithed himself in al- by being opprest and prosecuted; but in most every kind of writing. These re. after-times, when it was delivered from flcctions will occur to every one, on read that Navery, it declined to be tyrannical ing almost any of Butler's works, and itself: for when the popes had reduced particularly his thoughts on various sub- their cruellest enemies, the Roman empejects, consisting of thort sentences uncon- rors, they assumed a greater and more exnected with each other, and Aung together travagant power, than the others ever prewithout order or mcthod. In these he disco- tended to; as if religion having served out vers such a profoundness of thought, found- an apprenticeship to tyranny, as soon as ness of understanding, and solidity of reflec- it was out of its time had set up for ittion, as 'plainly prove bis abilities to have self. been sufficiently great, for writing on many “ All the business of the world is but other subjects than those he has obliged diversion, and all the happiness in it, that the world with, and with equal success. mankind is capable of, any thing that will

Several of these reflections more par keep it from reflecting upon the misery, ticularly relate to the times in which But. vanity, and nonsense of it; and wholer wrote ; but the greater part are gene. ever con by any trick keep himself from


thinking of it, is as wife and happy as the who wanted much of that natural eafiness best man in it.

of wit that Ovid had, did, nevertheless, “ The greatest drunkards are the worst with hard labour and long ftudy, arrive at judges of wine ; the most insatiable let- a higlier perfection, than the other with all chers the most ignorant critics in women; his dexterity of wit, but less industry, and the greedieft appetites, of the best could attain to. The same we may obcookery of meats. ... For those that use serve of Johnson and Shakespear; for be excess in any thing, never understand the that is able to think long and judge well, truth of it, which always lies in the will be sure to find out better things, than mean.

another man can hit upon suddenly, tho® “Princes that have the command of of more quick and ready parts; which is other men have less freedom'themselves commonly but chance, and the other art than the meanest of their subjects, and are and judgment. tied to greater reservations and forbear. “ A credulous person is like a pitcher ances than the rest of mankind : for juft borne by the ears, empty of itself, but apt so much respect as they new to the pub- to hold whatsoever is put into it. lic opinion of the world, will the world ." The practice of the church of Rome, have of them, and no more.

and that of the Reformation, in dealing with "The preferment of fools and underer finners, is like that of a quack and learned ving persons is not so much an honour to physician in curing of claps; for as the them, as infamy and dishonour to those physician will not undertake a cure, unless that raise them; for when a prince con- the patient will enter into a course, and fers honour on those that do not deserve observe rules, which the quack will dirit, he throws it away out of his own penfe with, and give him Jeave to go Rock, and leaves himself so much the less, abroad and follow his occafions, that is, such as he parts with to those that want merit as gave bim the disease: fo the reformed to pretend to it ; and by that ill husband churches will not promise forgiveness of ry, in time, leaves himself none at all fins, without repentance and amendment to pay to those to whom it is due.

of life; which the church of Rome freely "That which the wise man prayed for dispenses withal; and upon mere conferof God, in Ecclefiaftes .... To give bim fion and penance performed, gives them neitber ricbes nor poverty, .... is as much pardon and freedom to do the same things to be desired in conversation and business ; over again. namely, to have nothing to do with men “The more false' any religion is, the that are very rich, or very poor ; for the more industrious the priests of it are to one sort are commonly insolent and proud, keep the people from prying into the myrand the other mean and contemptible; and teries of it; and by that artifice, render those that are between both are commonly them the more zealous and confident in the most agreeable.

their ignorance. T“Men of the quickest apprehensions “The wit of the schoolmen, like the and aptest genius to any thing they un- righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, dertake, do not always prove the greatest confifted much in the straining at gnats, masters in it: for there is more patience and swallowing of camels. For thay that are and phlegm required in those that attain curious in subtelties, and ignorant in things to any degree of perfection, than is com- of solid knowledge, are but penny wife monly found in the temper of active and and pound foolish." ready wits, that roon tire, and will not The strength and justness of these fenhold out; as the swiftest race-horse will timents cannot but frike every person. not perform a long journey so well as a In some future Number we may select fturdy dull jade. Hence it is, that Virgil, more of these excellent observations.

An ACCOUNT of the famous JAMES CREIGHTox.

THAT there have, appeared in the - world, even in days of very great ignorance, person of such stupendous

learning and abilities, as to be accounted prodigies of men, and endued with such extraordinary natural paris, as no Rudy or labour could ever equal; is a truth too private companies as by his public difpuwell known and established to be at this cations. Yet there acquisitions of learntime doubted. Among those favourites ing, however stupendous, he had not acof nature, or providence, that have been quired by the omillion of arty accomplish-, çnriched with such exceeding, great, and ment in which it becomes a gentleman various endowments, and contrarieties of to excel, nor at the expence of any pleaexcellence, none seems to have been more fures youth is prone to indulge itself with; exalted above the common rate of huma. for he excelled in the arts of drawing nity, than the man known about two and painting, and was an eminent percenturies, ago, by the appellation of the former both in vocal and instrumental ADMIRABLE CREIGHTON, who has been music. He danced with uncommon grace. often compared with the famous prince, fulness; and on the day after his disputa. John Francis Pico de la Mirandola, and tion at Paris, exhibited his skill in horre. by some thought superior to him.

manship before the court of France, where James Creighton (or, as his name is at a public.match of tilting, he bore away variously spelt, Crichton or Criton) was a the ring upon his launce fifteen times to native of Scotland, and studied at St. gether... Andrew's. He was related to the He excelled in domestic games of less royal family of Stuart ; and as virtue (says dignity, and spent so much time at cards, Virgil) is better accepted when it comes in dice, and tennis, that a lampoon was fixed a pleasing form ; ro he was as remarkable upon the gates of the Sorbonne, directing for the beauty of his person, as for the those who desired to see this monster of erustrength of his genius. At twenty-one, dition, to seek for him at the cavern. He he went to Paris, and affixed on the gate had so vaft a memory, that he would reof the college of Navarre, a kind of chal- peat an oration of an hour, after only lenge to the learned of that university, to once hearing it, with the greatest exact. dispute with him on a certain day; offer- ness; and in the recital, observe the same ing to his opponents, whosoever they tone and gefticulation as the speaker. In faould be, the choice of ten languages, and an Italian comedy composed by himself, of all the faculties and sciences. On the and exhibited before the court at Mantua, day appointed three thousand auditors af. he is said himself to have personated fembled, when four doctors of the church fifteen different characters. and fifty matters appeared againt him. His skill in arms was equal to his learnAfter a disputation of nine hours, he was ing, and his courage to his skill. He vanadjudged to have gained the entire victory, quished a prize-fighter in single combat, was presented by the preqident and pro- who, according to the barbarous custom of fesors with a diamond, and a purse of that age, and not very much unlike to the as gold, and dismitted with repeated accla- savage custom of duelling in this, travelled mations.

about the world as a general challenger, • At Rome he made the same challenge, and had defeated the most celebrated mat and had in the presence of the Pope and ters. In Mantua he had killed three that cardinals the same success. He was in- appeared against him. He fell in this entroduced by Aldus Manutius to the learn- gagement with Creighton, who, as he had ed of Venice ; and at Padua, engaged in entered upon it through the indignation another public disputation, beginning his he felt at his adversary's fanguinary fucperformance with an extemporal poem, in cers, divided the prize of fifteen hundred praise of 'tlie city and assembly then pre- pistoles, which had been staked againnt fent, and concluded with an oration equal. him, among the widows whose husbands ly unpremeditated, in praise of ignorance. had been killed. He afterwards published another chal. It was not only in the sciences of philolenge, declaring himself ready to detect fophy, theology, mathematics, music, and thie errors of Aristotle, and all his com- the Belles Lettres, or in the arts of riding, mentators, either in the common forms of dancing, and fencing, and every branch of logic, or in any which his antagonists intellectual knowledge, that the admirable should propose, of a hundred different Creighton was the object of the world's kinds of verse. He engaged the admira. adiniration. His manners and his virtues tion of the most learned doctors, as well in were alike agriable, Not only brave to

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