Characters from the Histories & Memoirs of the Seventeenth Century Part 19

Some of their Chiefs were Princes of the Land: In the first Rank of these did _Zimri_ stand: A man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all Mankind's Epitome.

Stiff in Opinions, always in the wrong; Was Every thing by starts, and Nothing long: But, in the course of one revolving Moon, Was Chymist, Fidler, States-Man, and Buffoon: Then all for Women, Painting, Rhiming, Drinking; Besides ten thousand Freaks that dy'd in thinking.

Blest Madman, who coud every hour employ, With something New to wish, or to enjoy!

Railing and praising were his usual Theams; And both (to shew his Judgment) in Extreams: So over Violent, or over Civil, That every Man, with him, was G.o.d or Devil.

In squandring Wealth was his peculiar Art: Nothing went unrewarded, but Desert.

Begger'd by Fools, whom still he found too late: He had his Jest, and they had his Estate.

He laugh'd himself from Court; then sought Relief By forming Parties, but could ne'r be Chief: For, spight of him, the weight of Business fell On _Absalom_ and wise _Achitophel_: Thus, wicked but in Will, of Means bereft, He left not Faction, but of that was left.

72.

THE MARQUIS OF HALIFAX.

_George Savile, created Baron Savile and Viscount Halifax 1668, Earl of Halifax 1679, Marquis of Halifax 1682._

_Born 1633. Died 1695._

By BURNET.

I name Sir _George Saville_ last, because he deserves a more copious character. He rose afterwards to be Viscount, Earl, and Marquis of _Halifax_. He was a man of a great and ready wit; full of life, and very pleasant; much turned to satyr. He let his wit run much on matters of religion: So that he pa.s.sed for a bold and determined Atheist; tho' he often protested to me, he was not one; and said, he believed there was not one in the world: He confessed, he could not swallow down every thing that divines imposed on the world: He was a Christian in submission: He believed as much as he could, and he hoped that G.o.d would not lay it to his charge, if he could not disgest iron, as an ostrich did, nor take into his belief things that must burst him: If he had any scruples, they 20 were not sought for, nor cherished by him; for he never read an atheistical book. In a fit of sickness, I knew him very much touched with a sense of religion. I was then often with him. He seemed full of good purposes: But they went off with his sickness. He was always talking of morality and friends.h.i.+p. He was punctual in all payments, and just in all his private dealings. But, with relation to the publick, he went backwards and forwards, and changed sides so often, that in conclusion no side trusted him. He seemed full of Common-wealth notions: Yet he went into the worst part of King _Charles's_ reign. The liveliness of his imagination was always too hard for his judgment. A severe jest was preferred by him to all arguments whatsoever. And he was endless in consultations: For when after much discourse a point was settled, if he could find a new jest, to make even that which was suggested by himself seem ridiculous, he could not hold, but would study to raise the credit of his wit, tho' it made others call his judgment in question. When he talked to me as a philosopher of his contempt of the world, I asked him, what he meant by getting so many new t.i.tles, which I call'd the hanging himself about with bells and tinsel. He had no other excuse for it, but this, that, since the world were such fools as to value those matters, a man must be a fool for company: He considered them but as rattles: Yet rattles please children: So these might be of use to his family. His heart was much set on raising his family. But, tho' he made a vast estate for them, he buried two of his sons himself, and almost all his grandchildren. The son that survived was an honest man, but far inferior to him.

73.

SIR EDMUND SAUNDERS.

_Lord Chief Justice 1682. Died 1683._

By ROGER NORTH.

The Lord Chief Justice _Saunders_ succeeded in the Room of _Pemberton_. His Character, and his Beginning, were equally strange.

He was at first no better than a poor Beggar Boy, if not a Parish Foundling, without known Parents, or Relations. He had found a way to live by Obsequiousness (in _Clement's-Inn_, as I remember) and courting the Attornies Clerks for Sc.r.a.ps. The extraordinary Observance and Diligence of the Boy, made the Society willing to do him Good. He appeared very ambitious to learn to write; and one of the Attornies got a Board knocked up at a Window on the Top of a Staircase; and that was his Desk, where he sat and wrote after Copies of Court and other Hands the Clerks gave him. He made himself so expert a Writer that he took in Business, and earned some Pence by Hackney-writing. And thus, by degrees, he pushed his Faculties, and fell to Forms, and, by Books that were lent him, became an exquisite entering Clerk; and, by the same course of Improvement of himself, an able Counsel, first in special Pleading, then, at large. And, after he was called to the Bar, had Practice, in the _King's Bench_ Court, equal with any there. As to his Person, he was very corpulent and beastly; a mere Lump of morbid Flesh. He used to say, _by his Troggs_, (such an humourous Way of talking he affected) _none could say be wanted Issue of his Body, for he had nine in his Back_. He was a fetid Ma.s.s, that offended his Neighbours at the Bar in the sharpest Degree. Those, whose ill Fortune it was to stard near him, were Confessors, and, in Summer-time, almost Martyrs. This hateful Decay of his Carcase came upon him by continual Sottishness; for, to say nothing of Brandy, he was seldom without a Pot of Ale at his Nose, or near him. That Exercise was all he used; the rest of his Life was sitting at his Desk, or piping at home; and that _Home_ was a Taylor's House in _Butcher-Row_, called his Lodging, and the Man's Wife was his Nurse, or worse; but, by virtue of his Money, of which he made little Account, though he got a great deal, he soon became Master of the Family; and, being no Changling, he never removed, but was true to his Friends, and they to him, to the last Hour of his Life.

So much for his Person and Education. As for his Parts, none had them more lively than he. Wit and Repartee, in an affected Rusticity, were natural to him. He was ever ready, and never at a Loss; and none came so near as he to be a Match for Serjeant _Mainard_. His great Dexterity was in the Art of special Pleading, and he would lay Snares that often caught his Superiors who were not aware of his Traps. And he was so fond of Success for his Clients that, rather than fail, he would set the Court hard with a Trick; for which he met sometimes with a Reprimand, which he would wittily ward off, so that no one was much offended with him. But _Hales_ could not bear his Irregularity of Life; and for that, and Suspicion of his Tricks, used to bear hard upon him in the Court. But no ill Usage from the Bench was too hard for his Hold of Business, being such as scarce any could do but himself. With all this, he had a Goodness of Nature and Disposition in so great a Degree that he may be deservedly styled a _Philanthrope_.

He was a very _Silenus_ to the Boys, as, in this Place, I may term the Students of the Law, to make them merry whenever they had a Mind to it. He had nothing of rigid or austere in him. If any, near him at the Bar, grumbled at his Stench, he ever converted the Complaint into Content and Laughing with the Abundance of his Wit. As to his ordinary Dealing, he was as honest as the driven Snow was white; and why not, having no Regard for Money, or Desire to be rich? And, for good Nature and Condescension, there was not his Fellow. I have seen him, for Hours and half Hours together, before the Court sat, stand at the Bar, with an Audience of Students over against him, putting of Cases, and debating so as suited their Capacities, and encouraged their Industry.

And so in the _Temple_, he seldom moved without a Parcel of Youths hanging about him, and he merry and jesting with them.

It will be readily conceived that this Man was never cut out to be a Presbyter, or any Thing that is severe and crabbed. In no Time did he lean to Faction, but did his Business without Offence to any. He put off officious Talk of Government or Politicks, with Jests, and so made his Wit a Catholicon, or s.h.i.+eld, to cover all his weak Places and Infirmities. When the Court fell into a steddy Course of using the Law against all Kinds of Offenders, this Man was taken into the King's Business; and had the Part of drawing, and Perusal of almost all Indictments and Informations that were then to be prosecuted, with the Pleadings thereon if any were special; and he had the settling of the large Pleadings in the _Quo Warranto_ against _London_. His Lords.h.i.+p had no sort of Conversation with him, but in the Way of Business, and at the Bar; but once, after he was in the King's Business, he dined with his Lords.h.i.+p, and no more. And then he shewed another Qualification he had acquired, and that was to play Jigs upon an Harpsichord; having taught himself with the Opportunity of an old Virginal of his Landlady's; but in such a Manner, not for Defect but Figure, as to see him were a Jest. The King, observing him to be of a free Disposition, Loyal, Friendly, and without Greediness or Guile, thought of him to be the Chief Justice of the _King's Bench_ at that nice Time. And the Ministry could not but approve of it. So great a Weight was then at stake, as could not be trusted to Men of doubtful Principles, or such as any Thing might tempt to desert them. While he sat in the Court of _King's Bench_, he gave the Rule to the general Satisfaction of the Lawyers. But his Course of Life was so different from what it had been, his Business incessant, and, withal, crabbed; and his Diet and Exercise changed, that the Const.i.tution of his Body, or Head rather, could not sustain it, and he fell into an Apoplexy and Palsy, which numbed his Parts; and he never recovered the Strength of them. He out-lived the Judgment on the _Quo Warranto_; but was not present otherwise than by sending his Opinion, by one of the Judges, to be for the King, who, at the p.r.o.nouncing of the Judgment, declared it to the Court accordingly, which is frequently done in like Cases.

74.

TWO GROUPS OF DIVINES.

BENJAMIN WHITCHCOT or WHICHCOTE (1609-83), Provost of King's College, Cambridge, 1645. RALPH CUDWORTH (1617-88), Master of Clare College, Cambridge, 1645, and Christ's College, 1654. JOHN WILKINS (1614-72), Warden of Wadham College, Oxford, 1648; Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, 1659; Bishop of Chester, 1668. HENRY MORE (1614-87), Fellow of Christ's College, Cambridge, 1639. JOHN WORTHINGTON (1618-71), Master of Jesus College, Cambridge, 1650.

JOHN TILLOTSON (1630-94), Archbishop of Canterbury, 1691. EDWARD STILLINGFLEET (1635-99), Bishop of Worcester, 1689. SIMON PATRICK (1626-1707), Bishop of Chichester, 1689; Ely, 1691. WILLIAM LLOYD (1627-1717), Bishop of St. Asaph, 1680; Lichfield, 1692; Worcester, 1700. THOMAS TENISON (1636-1715), Archbishop of Canterbury, 1694.

By BURNET.

With this great accession of wealth there broke in upon the Church a great deal of luxury and high living, on the pretence of hospitality; while others made purchases, and left great estates, most of which we have seen melt away. And with this overset of wealth and pomp, that came on men in the decline of their parts and age, they, who were now growing into old age, became lazy and negligent in all the true concerns of the Church: They left preaching and writing to others, while they gave themselves up to ease and sloth. In all which sad representation some few exceptions are to be made; but so few, that, if a new set of men had not appeared of another stamp, the Church had quite lost her esteem over the Nation.

These were generally of _Cambridge_, formed under some divines, the chief of whom were Drs. _Whitchcot_, _Cudworth_, _Wilkins_, _More_, and _Worthington_. _Whitchcot_ was a man of a rare temper, very mild and obliging. He had great credit with some that had been eminent in the late times; but made all the use he could of it to protect good men of all persuasions. He was much for liberty of conscience: And being disgusted with the dry systematical way of those times, he studied to raise those who conversed with him to a n.o.bler set of thoughts, and to consider religion as a seed of a deiform nature, (to use one of his own phrases.) In order to this, he set young students much on reading the ancient Philosophers, chiefly _Plato_, _Tully_, and _Plotin_, and on considering the Christian religion as a doctrine sent from G.o.d, both to elevate and sweeten humane nature, in which he was a great example, as well as a wise and kind instructer. _Cudworth_ carried this on with a great strength of genius, and a vast compa.s.s of learning. He was a man of great conduct and prudence: Upon which his enemies did very falsly accuse him of craft and dissimulation.

_Wilkins_ was of _Oxford_, but removed to _Cambridge_. His first rise was in the Elector Palatine's family, when he was in _England_.

Afterwards he married _Cromwell_'s sister; but made no other use of that alliance, but to do good offices, and to cover the University from the sourness of _Owen_ and _Goodwin_. At _Cambridge_ he joined with those who studied to propagate better thoughts, to take men off from being in parties, or from narrow notions, from superst.i.tious conceits, and a fierceness about opinions. He was also a great observer and a promoter of experimental philosophy, which was then a new thing, and much looked after. He was naturally ambitious, but was the wisest Clergy-man I ever knew. He was a lover of mankind, and had a delight in doing good. _More_ was an open hearted, and sincere Christian philosopher, who studied to establish men in the great principles of religion against atheism, that was then beginning to gain ground, chiefly by reason of the hypocrisy of some, and the fantastical conceits of the more sincere enthusiasts.

_Hobbs_, who had long followed the Court, and pa.s.sed there for a mathematical man, tho' he really knew little that way, being disgusted by the Court, came into _England_ in _Cromwell_'s time, and published a very wicked book, with a very strange t.i.tle, _The Leviathan_. His main principles were, that all men acted under an absolute necessity, in which he seemed protected by the then received doctrine of absolute decrees. He seemed to think that the universe was G.o.d, and that souls were material, Thought being only subtil and unperceptible motion. He thought interest and fear were the chief principles of society: And he put all morality in the following that which was our own private will or advantage. He thought religion had no other foundation than the laws of the land. And he put all the law in the will of the Prince, or of the people: For he writ his book at first in favour of absolute monarchy, but turned it afterwards to gratify the republican party.

These were his true principles, tho' he had disguised them, for deceiving unwary readers. And this set of notions came to spread much.

The novelty and boldness of them set many on reading them. The impiety of them was acceptable to men of corrupt minds, which were but too much prepared to receive them by the extravagancies of the late times.

So this set of men at _Cambridge_ studied to a.s.sert, and examine the principles of religion and morality on clear grounds, and in a philosophical method. In this _More_ led the way to many that came after him. _Worihington_ was a man of eminent piety and great humility, and practised a most sublime way of self-denial and devotion. All these, and those who were formed under them, studied to examine farther into the nature of things than had been done formerly.

They declared against superst.i.tion on the one hand, and enthusiasm on the other. They loved the const.i.tution of the Church, and the Liturgy, and could well live under them: But they did not think it unlawful to live under another form. They wished that things might have been carried with more moderation. And they continued to keep a good correspondence with those who had differed from them in opinion, and allowed a great freedom both in philosophy and in divinity: From whence they were called men of Lat.i.tude. And upon this men of narrower thoughts and fiercer tempers fastened upon them the name of Lat.i.tudinarians. They read _Episcopius_ much. And the making out the reasons of things being a main part of their studies, their enemies called them Socinians. They were all very zealous against popery. And so, they becoming soon very considerable, the Papists set themselves against them to decry them as Atheists, Deists, or at best Socinians.

And now that the main principle of religion was struck at by _Hobbs_ and his followers, the Papists acted upon this a very strange part.

They went in so far even into the argument for Atheism, as to publish many books, in which they affirmed, that there was no certain proofs of the Christian religion, unless we took it from the authority of the Church as infallible. This was such a delivering up of the cause to them, that it raised in all good men a very high indignation at Popery; that party shewing, that they chose to make men, who would not turn Papists, become Atheists, rather than believe Christianity upon any other ground than infallibility.

The most eminent of those, who were formed under those great men I have mention'd, were _Tillotson_, _Stillingfleet_, and _Patrick_. The first of these was a man of a clear head, and a sweet temper. He had the brightest thoughts, and the most correct style of all our divines; and was esteemed the best preacher of the age. He was a very prudent man; and had such a management with it, that I never knew any Clergy-man so universally esteemed and beloved, as he was for above twenty years. He was eminent for his opposition to Popery. He was no friend to persecution, and stood up much against Atheism. Nor did any man contribute more to bring the City to love our wors.h.i.+p, than he did. But there was so little superst.i.tion, and so much reason and gentleness in his way of explaining things, that malice was long levelled at him, and in conclusion broke out fiercely on him.

_Stillingfleet_ was a man of much more learning, but of a more reserved, and a haughtier temper. He in his youth writ an _Irenic.u.m_ for healing our divisions, with so much learning and moderation, that it was esteemed a masterpiece. His notion was, that the Apostles had settled the Church in a const.i.tution of Bishops, Priests, and Deacons, but had made no perpetual law about it, having only taken it in, as they did many other things, from the customs and practice of the synagogue; from which he inferred, that certainly the const.i.tution was lawful since authorised by them, but not necessary, since they had made no settled law about it. This took with many; but was cried out upon by others as an attempt against the Church. Yet the argument was managed with so much learning and skill, that none of either side ever undertook to answer it. After that, he wrote against infidelity, beyond any that had gone before him. And then he engaged to write against Popery, which he did with such an exactness and liveliness, that no books of controversy were so much read and valued, as his were. He was a great man in many respects. He knew the world well, and was esteemed a very wise man. The writing of his _Irenic.u.m_ was a great snare to him: For, to avoid the imputations which that brought upon him, he not only retracted the book, but he went into the humours of that high sort of people beyond what became him, perhaps beyond his own sense of things. He applied himself much to the study of the law and records, and the original of our const.i.tution, and was a very extraordinary man. _Patrick_ was a great preacher. He wrote much, and well, and chiefly on the Scriptures. He was a laborious man in his function, of great strictness of life, but a little too severe against those who differed from him. But that was, when he thought their doctrines struck at the fundamentals of religion. He became afterwards more moderate. To these I shall add another divine, who, tho' of _Oxford_, yet as he was formed by Bishop _Wilkins_, so he went into most of their principles; but went far beyond them in learning.

_Lloyd_ was a great critick in the _Greek_ and _Latin_ authors, but chiefly in the Scriptures; of the words and phrases of which he carried the most perfect concordance in his memory, and had it the readiest about him, of all men that ever I knew. He was an exact historian, and the most punctual in chronology of all our divines.

He had read the most books, and with the best judgment, and had made the most copious abstracts out of them, of any in this age: So that _Wilkins_ used to say, he had the most learning in ready cash of any he ever knew. He was so exact in every thing he set about, that he never gave over any part of study, till he had quite mastered it. But when that was done, he went to another subject, and did not lay out his learning with the diligence with which he laid it in. He had many volumes of materials upon all subjects laid together in so distinct a method, that he could with very little labour write on any of them. He had more life in his imagination, and a truer judgment, than may seem consistent with such a laborious course of study. Yet, as much as he was set on learning, he had never neglected his pastoral care. For several years he had the greatest cure in _England_, St. _Martins_, which he took care of with an application and diligence beyond any about him; to whom he was an example, or rather a reproach, so few following his example. He was a holy, humble, and patient man, ever ready to do good when he saw a proper opportunity: Even his love of study did not divert him from that. He did upon his promotion find a very worthy successor in his cure, _Tenison_, who carried on and advanced all those good methods that he had begun in the management of that great cure. He endowed schools, set up a publick library, and kept many Curates to a.s.sist him in his indefatigable labours among them. He was a very learned man, and took much pains to state the notions and practices of heathenish idolatry, and so to fasten that charge on the Church of _Rome_. And, _Whitehall_ lying within that parish, he stood as in the front of the battel all King _James's_ reign; and maintained, as well as managed, that dangerous post with great courage and much judgment, and was held in very high esteem for his whole deportment, which was ever grave and moderate. These have been the greatest divines we have had these forty years: And may we ever have a succession of such men to fill the room of those who have already gone off the stage, and of those who, being now very old, cannot hold their posts long. Of these I have writ the more fully, because I knew them well, and have lived long in great friends.h.i.+p with them; but most particularly with _Tillotson_ and _Lloyd_. And, as I am sensible I owe a great deal of the consideration that has been had for me to my being known to be their friend, so I have really learned the best part of what I know from them. But I owed them much more on the account of those excellent principles and notions, of which they were in a particular manner communicative to me. This set of men contributed more than can be well imagined to reform the way of preaching; which among the divines of _England_ before them was over-run with pedantry, a great mixture of quotations from fathers and ancient writers, a long opening of a text with the concordance of every word in it, and a giving all the different expositions with the grounds of them, and the entring into some parts of controversy, and all concluding in some, but very short, practical applications, according to the subject or the occasion. This was both long and heavy, when all was pye-balled, full of many sayings of different languages. The common style of sermons was either very flat and low, or swelled up with rhetorick to a false pitch of a wrong sublime. The King had little or no literature, but true and good sense; and had got a right notion of style; for he was in _France_ at a time when they were much set on reforming their language. It soon appear'd that he had a true taste. So this help'd to raise the value of these men, when the King approved of the style their discourses generally ran in; which was clear, plain, and short. They gave a short paraphrase of their text, unless where great difficulties required a more copious enlargement: But even then they cut off unnecessary shews of learning, and applied themselves to the matter, in which they opened the nature and reasons of things so fully, and with that simplicity, that their hearers felt an instruction of another sort than had commonly been observed before. So they became very much followed: And a set of these men brought off the City in a great measure from the prejudices they had formerly to the Church.

75.

JAMES II.

_Born 1633. Created Duke of York. Succeeded Charles II 1685. Fled to France 1688. Died 1701._

By BURNET.

I will digress a little to give an account of the Duke's character, whom I knew for some years so particularly, that I can say much upon my own knowledge. He was very brave in his youth, and so much magnified by Monsieur _Turenne_, that, till his marriage lessened him he really clouded the King, and pa.s.s'd for the superior genius. He was naturally candid and sincere, and a firm friend, till affairs and his religion wore out all his first principles and inclinations. He had a great desire to understand affairs: And in order to that he kept a constant journal of all that pa.s.s'd, of which he shewed me a great deal. The Duke of _Buckingham_ gave me once a short but severe character of the two brothers. It was the more severe, because it was-true: The King (he said) could see things if he would, and the Duke would see things if he could. He had no true judgment, and was soon determined by those whom he trusted: But he was obstinate against all other advices. He was bred with high notions of the Kingly authority, and laid it down for a maxim, that all who opposed the King were rebels in their hearts. He was perpetually in one amour or other, without being very nice in his choice: Upon which the King said once, he believed his brother had his mistresses given him by his Priests for penance. He gave me this account of his changing his religion: When he escaped out of the hands of the Earl of _Northumberland_, who had the charge of his education trusted to him by the Parliament, and had used him with great respect, all due care was taken, as soon as he got beyond sea, to form him to a strict adherence to the Church of _England_: Among other things much was said of the authority of the Church, and of the tradition from the Apostles in support of Episcopacy: So that, when he came to observe that there was more reason to submit to the Catholick Church than to one particular Church, and that other traditions might be taken on her word, as well as Episcopacy was received among us, he thought the step was not great, but that it was very reasonable to go over to the Church of _Rome_: And Doctor _Steward_ having taught him to believe a real but unconceivable presence of _Christ_ in the Sacrament, he thought this went more than half way to transubstantiation. He said, that a Nun's advice to him to pray every day, that, if he was not in the right way, G.o.d would set him right, did make a great impression on him. But he never told me when or where he was reconciled. He suffered me to say a great deal to him on all these heads. I shewed the difference between submission and obedience in matters of order and indifferent things, and an implicite submission from the belief of infallibility. I also shewed him the difference between a speculation of a mode of _Christ's_ presence, when it rested in an opinion, and an adoration founded on it: Tho' the opinion of such a presence was wrong, there was no great harm in that alone: But the adoration of an undue object was idolatry. He suffered me to talk much and often to him on these heads. But I plainly saw, it made no impression: And all that he seemed to intend by it was, to make use of me as an instrument to soften the aversion that people began to be possessed with to him. He was naturally eager and revengeful: And was against the taking off any that set up in an opposition to the measures of the Court, and who by that means grew popular in the House of Commons. He was for rougher methods. He continued for many years dissembling his religion, and seemed zealous for the Church of _England_: But it was chiefly on design to hinder all propositions that tended to unite us among our selves. He was a frugal Prince, and brought his Court into method and magnificence: For he had 100000_l_. a year allowed him. He was made High Admiral: And he came to understand all the concerns of the sea very particularly. He had a very able Secretary about him, Sir _William Coventry_; a man of great notions and eminent vertues, the best Speaker in the House of Commons, and capable of bearing the chief ministry, as it was once thought he was very near it. The Duke found, all the great seamen had a deep tincture from their education: They both hated Popery, and loved liberty: They were men of severe tempers, and kept good discipline. But in order to the putting the fleet into more confident hands, the Duke began a method of sending pages of honour, and other young persons of quality, to be bred to the sea. And these were put in command, as soon as they were capable of it, if not sooner. This discouraged many of the old seamen, when they saw in what a channel advancement was like to go; who upon that left the service, and went and commanded merchantmen. By this means the vertue and discipline of the navy is much lost. It is true, we have a breed of many gallant men, who do distinguish themselves in action. But it is thought, the Nation has suffered much by the vices and disorders of those Captains, who have risen by their quality, more than by merit or service.

76.

By BURNET.