Archbishops have been entitled) to add, that it was the governing principle of his life "never to abate any thing of humanity or charity to any man for his difference from him in opinion." In 1678, was buried in Bunhill Fields, Dr. Theophilus Gale, one of Prince's Worthies of Devon, and the author of the "Court of the Gentiles." In spite of his Nonconformity, Gale extorted from Anthony Wood commendation as 66 a person of great reading, an exact philologist and philosopher." An incident occurred in 1665 which nearly entitled him to have his name enrolled in the "Calamities of Authors.' Returning to London after a long absence on the Continent, where he had been travelling with the sons of Lord Wharton, he saw, as he approached the city, that it was wrapped in the flames of the memorable fire. Before leaving England he left his desk, containing, amongst other treasures, the MS. of "The Court of the Gentiles," in the care of a merchant. The house of his friend was destroyed, but, by a lucky accident, the desk of Mr. Gale was saved. His friend was despatching from the burning dwelling a cart-load of goods. Just as it was starting, he noticed the desk, and thus saved from destruction the learned labours of more than ten years' study. Dr. Gale left his property in trust for the education of young men for the ministry. His library he left to Harvard College, in New England; and although the shelves of that College-library had previously been enriched by gifts from Harvard, the founder, Hugh Peters, Sir Kenelm Digby, Dr. John Lightfoot and others, the latest historian of Harvard states that the library of Dr. Gale" was more than equal to all that was in the College-library before."* In 1683, this burial-ground received the remains of Dr. John Owen, one of the profoundest scholars of his age, and one whom they who depart widest from his theology must admit to have adorned the cause of Nonconformity. His controversial labours are recorded on his tomb in one passage of the Latin epitaph written by his friend Thomas Gilbert, of Oxford: Viribus plusquam Herculeis, serpentibus tribus lines which have been thus freely translated: The Arminian, Socinian and Popish errors, There is reference here to his "Vindicia Evangelicæ," published in 1655, in reply to Biddle's Catechism. This great work, the first systematic discussion of the Antitrinitarian doctrine published in England, was undertaken at the request of the Council of State. It is unquestionably able and learned, though intensely bitter. In one particular it is entitled to commendation for its fairness. The greater part of the work intended to be confuted is incorporated with the confutation. One seeks in vain for an expression of regret at, or disapprobation of, the The libraries of several of the Nonconformists of this generation were extensive and costly. The books of Dr. Lazarus Seaman were sold by auction for £700; Dr. Goodwin's library was valued at £1000; Dr. Jacomb's sold for £1300; Dr. Bates's was bought by Dr. Williams for £500 or £600. Dr. John Evans's library contained 10,000 volumes. See Orme's Life of Owen, p. 452, note. VOL. V. 4 T bodily sufferings which "orthodox" persecutors had inflicted on Biddle. An admiring biographer of Dr. Owen has exulted in the fact that the Vindicia was "unanswered." Before it is concluded that the book was unanswerable, let the following facts be remembered; that the answer to Biddle's "Confession of Faith concerning the Holy Trinity," published in 1648, was the Act, passed by the Long Parliament, making the denial of the Trinity, &c., punishable by death; that Owen's book is dated April 1, 1655; that on the 3rd of July in that same year, Biddle was apprehended, and at the next sessions was tried for his life, which was only saved by the humane interposition of Cromwell, who banished him to the Isle of Scilly. Biddle would have probably proved himself not unequal to the conflict with the champion of the orthodox party of that day, had he been the only combatant in the field. Backed as the Dean of Christ Church was by State-lawyers pleading ruthless Acts of Parliament, and by jailors and the hangman, it is not to be wondered at that Biddle left the Vindicia Evangelicæ "unanswered." Most Unitarians can venerate Owen as the instructor, at Oxford, of John Locke. Owen was the "fanatical tutor"* under whom Wood describes Locke as studying at the University. The masterly genius of the pupil enabled him, while he rejected the theology of his tutor, to appreciate at its proper value the right of private judgment asserted, if not always practically illustrated, by the Dean. It is a not uninteresting fact that Dr. John Owen died on August 24, the anniversary of Bartholomew's-day, which, in the language of his distinguished pupil, "was fatal to our Church and Religion, by throw ing out a very great number of worthy, learned, pious and orthodox divines." Some other instances (we believe) are mentioned of ejected ministers finishing their earthly course on this memorable anniversary. † In our own day, we have seen the two survivors of that band of American patriots who signed the Declaration of Independence, breathe their last on the anniversary of that event which immortalizes their names. There is something gratifying to one's sense of right when a righteous man is permitted, before his dismissal from earth, once more to greet the return of a day which he has assisted to associate in all future time with heroism and truth. A few hours before his death, there broke from the lips of this eminent Christian this rapturous exclamation-"The long wishedfor day is come at last, in which I shall see that glory in another manner than I have ever done, or was capable of doing, in this world!" His biographer happily alludes to the resemblance of the words to that sublime passage in Cicero (De Senectute)-"O! præclarum diem, cum ad illud divinum animorum concilium cætumque proficiscar," &c. The funeral of Dr. Owen did not take place till September 4th. The body * The honour of being tutor to Mr. Locke at Oxford is also claimed for another Nonconformist divine, Thomas Cole, who was first student at Christ Church and then Principal of St. Mary's Hall. He, too, lies in Bunhill Fields, dying in 1697. We only remember the name of Mr. Cope, the ejected minister of Sandbach, who finished his course at Haslingden, in 1704, aged 82, being the survivor of all the ejected ministers in the province of Lancaster and Chester. In both Calamy and Palmer the date of Mr. Cope's death is wrongly given, 1694. We derive the correct date from the Minutes (MS.) of the Cheshire Classis. was then attended to Bunhill Fields by an almost innumerable company of mourning friends. Sixty-seven carriages of the nobility and gentry, besides mourning coaches and a large company of horsemen, joined in the funeral procession. This tribute to the memory of a Nonconformist divine and scholar, offered at the time when the storm of persecution was at its height, was remarkable, and honourable alike to them that gave it and him that was its unconscious object. But a burial took place in Bunhill Fields soon after, which far surpassed it, both in respect to the number and the passionate grief of the mourners. This was the funeral of William Jenkyn, a descendant of John Rogers, the proto-martyr in the days of Queen Mary, and himself the ejected minister of Christ Church, London. On the 2nd of September, 1684, when spending a day in prayer in Moorfields, with Mr. Flavel and other ministers and pious friends, the assembly was broken into by the city officers. Mr. Jenkyn was seized, and carried before two aldermen who were creatures of the Court. They tendered to him the Oxford oath, knowing that he would decline it; and thereupon, refusing to punish him by fine, as according to the Act they might have done, they committed him prisoner to Newgate. The aged minister knew that this was his death-warrant. He had before been a prisoner there, and as the clergyman of Christ Church he had attended prisoners in the jail,* and too well knew all the horrors of the place. It was now crowded to excess, there being not less than sixty or seventy ministers and other prisoners for conscience' sake, in addition to the customary criminals. Already in that year two aged ministers had met their death in Newgate,-Francis Bampfield and Jeremiah Marsden. Jenkyn, bending beneath the weight of more than seventy years, and broken in constitution, entered his dungeon with serenity, although conscious that he could not long outlive his liberty. A petition was presented to the King, asking for his release, and backed by the statement of physicians that continued imprisonment must be fatal to life. The brutal answer of Charles II. was, "Jenkyn shall be a prisoner as long as he lives." For once the King's words proved true. After four months' exposure to the damps and pestilent air of his dungeon, which, as the dying man told a friend, did the work of murder as effectually as it could be done at Tyburn, he met death with the courage of a martyr and the gentleness of a Christian, on the 19th of January, 1685. The news soon reached the Court. What ensued might furnish a subject not unworthy of the painter's art. In the midst of some such scene as that beheld and described by Mr. Evelyn† only six days after, the King surrounded by "inexpressible luxury and prophanesse, gaming and all dissoluteness," the "glorious gallery" of Whitehall filled with every thing that can intoxicate the senses and corrupt the heart, courtiers of both sexes, and both equally gay and infamous, heaps of gold kindling all the passions *He visited Major Strangeways, who was indicted for the murder of his brother-in-law, Mr. John Fussell, an attorney. Strangeways refused to plead to the indictment, and underwent, in the press-yard of Newgate, the peine forte et dure, which a barbarous law (not repealed till 12th of George III.) awarded to persons standing wilfully mute. Jenkyn's visits, and all the circumstances of Strangeway's crime and horrible death, are recorded in a tract preserved in the Harleian Miscellany, 8vo, Vol. VII. + Evelyn's Diary, III. 126, 137. of the gamesters, male and female, French boys and women from the theatres singing lascivious songs,—in the midst of such a scene, a nobleman thus addresses the King: "May it please your Majesty, Jenkyn has got his liberty." As if about to resent some strange invasion of his prerogative of mercy, Charles eagerly asked, "Aye! who gave it him?" The nobleman, indulging in a strain not usual in that place, answered, “A greater than your Majesty the King of kings!" "Even courtiers," Macaulay observes, alluding to this conversation, "looked sad-even the unthinking King shewed some signs of concern." In the city, nothing could restrain the popular grief and resentment. Every possible arrangement was made by the family and friends of the deceased to pay the last earthly honours to his wasted body. His daughter distributed memorial rings with this inscription— Mr. William Jenkyn, murdered in Newgate. Multitudes of every rank joined in the funeral procession, which included one hundred and fifty carriages. We may well believe that this noble outbreak of popular sympathy for a moment struck consternation into the Court. Scarcely were the burning tears dried from the cheeks of the children of this murdered man, when the Dread Messenger who enters equally the dungeon of the prisoner and the monarch's place, summoned the King, and bade him close for ever his career of ill-used power and lawless pleasure. We cannot doubt that the friends of William Jenkyn would at this time read and apply some passages of the Farewell Sermon which he delivered in the forenoon of the Sunday preceding his ejectment from Christ Church, from the words (Heb. xi. 38), Of whom the world was not worthy. Towards the conclusion of this fine sermon, the preacher thus illustrated the excellence of holiness above worldly glory :— "Here, a man is dignified by what is conferred upon him. When outward honour ceaseth, the man is contemned; but holiness, it dignifies a man, and shall remain here and hereafter. Set a giant in a valley, he is a giant still; a pearl is a pearl, though on a dunghill; a holy man is a holy man, though never so much disgraced and contemned by men. John Baptist had a leathern girdle, and had locusts for his food, yet there was not a greater than John Baptist born of women. He was the forerunner of Christ-the friend of the Bridegroom. On the other side, Herod, that was like the voice of God, and not of man, what was he in God's account? The angel smote him, and he became worms' meat.” This parallel was almost prophetic. In the picture of Herod, there were doubtless some of Mr. Jenkyn's hearers in 1662 who recognized the portrait of the King, whose faithlessness to his word given at Breda was then separating their flocks from two thousand faithful ministers. Little did they, however, think that the bold and earnest preacher would be the murdered prisoner to fall by the fiat of this modern Herod, the dissolute puppet of dancing women. We have mentioned the indignant filial piety of a daughter of Mr. Jenkyn. He had a son, who nursed in his soul the remembrance of royal cruelty and his father's wrongs, and who, a few months after, listening to his passions rather than his reason, joined the mad rebellion of Monmouth in the West, He was seized, tried by Jeffreys, and of course condemned. His name and history made all the attempts of his widowed mother and his two sisters, Mrs. Scot and Mrs. Gourden, to save his life fruitless. He viewed the approach of his terrific death with calmness inspired by piety and faith. His letters to his mother and sisters, written a few days or hours before his execution, are singularly touching and beautiful. To a friend he said, "I am neither afraid nor ashamed to die: the parting with my friends, and their grief for me, is my greatest difficulty; but it will be for a very short time, and we shall meet again in endless joys, where my dear father is already entered; him shall I presently meet.' He met his death at Taunton, Sept. 30, 1685. The mutilated remains of this brave but misguided patriot were not allowed to be mingled with those of his father, who was mercifully taken away from the evil to come. A descendant of William Jenkyn the elder, in the calmer days of George I., inscribed on his tomb a Latin epitaph, of which these words are the most striking part: Inter graves Ecclesiæ procellas Martyr obiit Anno Ætatis LXXII. At Another Bunhill worthy is William Kiffin, grandfather to the two brave and gentle youths named Hewling, whose tragic fate in the Monmouth rebellion is beautifully told by Mr. Macaulay (History of England, I. 649). Kiffin occupied a very singular position, being at the head of the merchants of London and the Baptists of England. the trial of William Hewling the Chief Justice flung this brutal speech at the prisoner: "You have a grandfather who deserves to be hanged as richly as you." Our English biography, which is very rich in its portraiture of domestic virtue, does not contain a more beautiful picture than that of the mutual affection and hopeful piety of Mr. Kiffin and his family. Every exertion was made, both by himself and his nobleminded granddaughter, Hannah Hewling (afterwards wife of Richard Cromwell, grandson of the Protector), to save the two brothers, of whom the elder was only 22 and the younger 19 years of age. What a picture of the corruption and cruelty of those days does William Kiffin's simple narrative of his efforts to procure the pardon of his grandchildren present! A courtier undertook their case for three thousand pounds; but Jeffreys, enraged to find that others rather than himself were receiving the purchase-money of mercy, gratified his own and his master's malignant cruelty by executing nearly all who were convicted at what were well called "the Bloody Assizes." As in the case of young Jenkyn, the bodies of the Hewlings were not conveyed to London for interment in the family vault. William, the younger brother, died first at Lyme; and so deep an impression had been produced by his parting. the day before with his sister at Dorchester, and by his piety and resignation at the place of execution, that, notwithstanding all the terrors of that dreadful time, the inhabitants of the little maritime town, to the number of 200, accompanied his remains to the churchyard; and several of the best-born ladies of Lyme, with that courage which affection inspires, with their own hands laid him in his early grave, Sept. 13, 1685. Benjamin Hewling, the elder brother, died with admirable fortitude at Taunton. "If you would learn to die," said one of the astonished officers who witnessed the spectacle, "go to the young men of Taunton." Two hours before his death, Benjamin Hewling wrote a letter of consolation to his widowed mother. Never was a human being, in the |