Hooker's principles, learning, and moderation, that the charges against him were of no effect. Travers was shortly after dismissed from the lectureship of the Temple by the Primate.

Hooker's position at this time was rendered very uneasy, owing to the agitation which continued among the benchers. But, as good Bishop Hall says in one of his contemplations, "See how God fetches His purposes about. The asses of Kish, Saul's father, are strayed away; what is that to the news of a kingdom? But God lays these small accidents, for the ground of greater designs." So doubtless was it the design of His providence at this time, that these painful discussions should be the occasion of drawing from the mind and pen of Hooker one of the greatest productions that ever appeared in our language, on the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity; in which he has recited the principal objections of the Puritans against the worship and government of the Church of England, gone through the whole argument, and returned a full answer to every exception. In short, he has baffled the Presbyterian cause so effectually, that they have never since been able to appear in the controversy to any purpose. Nor is there any literary performance of that age which has come down to our times with more testimonies to the learning and judgment of its author and his associates, than "The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity." It is a work that compresses into small compass the wisdom of philosophers, casuists, and schoolmen, and unveils the reason of all laws, both sacred and civil. It is recorded, that when a part of this work had been translated for Clement VIII. one of the most learned of the Roman pontiffs, he exclaimed, "There is no learning, that this man has not searched into; nothing too hard for his understanding. This man indeed deserves the name of an author: his books will get reverence by age, for there are in them such seeds of eternity, that if the rest be like this, they shall last till the last fire shall consume all learning.'

Hooker, at length, became weary of the noise and contentions at this time rife in the metropolis; and having learnt by heart all the lessons which Providence had to teach him there, (for, as he says, "God and nature did not intend me for contentions, but for study and quietness,") he happily left it for the more retired privacy of a country living, whither the pillar and the cloud speedily conducted him. In 1595 he was appointed to the vicarage of Bishopsbourne in Kent; in which place he continued his customary rules of mortification and self-denial, fasted often, was frequent in meditation and prayer, enjoying those blessed returns which only such men feel and know. Before long, his writings and the innocency and sanctity of his life became so remarkable, that many persons, especially the learned, visited him in his retirement; and, alas! as our Saviour said of the Baptist, "What went they out to see ? a man clothed in purple and fine linen?" No, indeed, says Walton, "but an obscure, harmless man; a man in poor clothes, his loins usually girt in a coarse gown, or canonical coat; of a mean stature and stooping, and yet more lowly in the thoughts of his soul; his body worn out, not with age, but with study and holy mortifications. And to this true character of his person let me add this of his disposition and behaviour. God and nature blessed him with so blessed a bashfulness, that neither in his youth nor in his age, did he ever look any man in the face; and was of so mild and humble a nature, that his poor parish-clerk and he did never talk, but with both their hats on, or both off, at the same time." His practice was to preach every Sunday morning, and in the evening to catechize his parishioners. His sermons were not long, but delivered with a grave zeal and an humble voice: "gesture none at all," says Fuller, "standing stone-still in the pulpit, as if the posture of his body were the emblem of his mind, unmovable in his opinions: his eyes always fixed on one place, so that he seemed to study as he preached." The design of his discourses was rather to convince and persuade, than frighten men into piety, and abounding in apt illustrations suited to the capacities of his unlearned hearers. He fasted strictly every Ember-week, when he usually took from the Clerk the key of the Church-door, into which place he retired every day, and locked himself up for many hours; and did the same on most Fridays and other days of fasting appointed by the Church. He was diligent in visiting the sick of his parish, thinking that the fittest time to convince them of those sins and errors, committed during a season of health and prosperity. "And though," says

his biographer, "in this weak and declining age of the world, such examples are become barren, and almost incredible; yet let his memory be blest with this true recordation, because he who praises Richard Hooker, praises God who has given such gifts unto men; and let this humble and affectionate relation of him become such a pattern, as may invite posterity to imitate these his virtues."

In 1600, when he was about forty-six years of age, he fell into a long and sharp illness, from which he never recovered. He was at this time preparing the last books of his Ecclesiastical Polity, and would often say to Dr. Saravia, prebendary of Canterbury, who constantly attended him, "That he did not beg a long life of God for any other reason, but to live to finish his three remaining books of Polity; and then, Lord, let Thy servant depart in peace." And God heard his prayers, though He denied the church the benefit of them, as completed by himself. A few days before his death he received from the hands of Dr. Saravia the blessed Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, at which time the doctor thought he saw a reverend gaiety and joy in his face; but it lasted not long, for his bodily infirmities returned with violence. The next day he found him deep in contemplation, and not inclined to converse. When he was asked the subject of his contemplations, he replied, "that he was meditating the number and nature of angels, and their blessed obedience and order, without which, peace could not be in heaven and oh! that it might be so on earth!" After which he said, "I have lived to see this world is made up of perturbations; and I have been long preparing to leave it, and gathering comfort for the dreadful hour of making my account with God, which I now apprehend to be near; and though I have by His grace loved Him in my youth, and feared Him in my age, and laboured to have a conscience void of offence to Him and to all men, yet, if Thou, O Lord, be extreme to mark what I have done amiss, who can abide it? And, therefore, where I have failed, Lord, show mercy to me; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgiveness of my unrighteousness, for His merits who died to purchase pardon for penitent sinners. And since I owe Thee a death, Lord, let it not be terrible, and then take Thine own time; I submit to it: let not mine, O Lord, but let Thy will be done!" And then after a short conflict between nature and death, this holy man fell asleep in Jesus Christ, about two o'clock in the afternoon of November 2, 1600.

It was the will of God, that Hooker's grateful clerk, Sampson Horton, should survive him several years, during which time he watched his deceased master's grave, and showed it to the numerous visitors who resorted thither from Canterbury to view it, and to converse with his old servant upon his talents, his labours, and his many virtues. He was spared to the third or fourth year of the Long Parliament, and witnessed the sequestration of Hooker's successor, and the intrusion of a minister of the Geneva school. "This and other like sequestrations," observes Isaac Walton, "made the clerk express himself in a wonder, and say, they had sequestered so many good men, that he doubted, if his good master, Mr. Hooker, had lived till now, they would have sequestered him too.' It was not long before this intruding minister had made a party in and about the said parish, that were desirous to receive the Sacrament as at Geneva; to which end the day was appointed for a select company, and forms and stools set about the altar, or communion table, for them to sit, and eat, and drink; but when they went about the work, there was a want of some joint stools, which the minister sent the clerk to fetch, and then to fetch cushions (but not to kneel upon). When the clerk saw them begin to sit down, he began to wonder; but the minister bade him cease wondering, and lock the church door;' to whom he replied, 'Pray, take you the keys, and lock me out: I will never come more into this church; for all men will say, my master Hooker was a good man, and a good scholar, and I am sure it was not used to be thus in his days:' and report says, the old man went presently home and died; I do not say died immediately, but within a few days after." Here let us leave this grateful clerk in his quiet grave in the churchyard of the parish, where he laboured for a period of threescore years. J. Y,

6

Islington.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE EVANGELICAL REGISTER.

26, Brick Lane, Spitalfields; June 9, 1840. DEAR SIR,-Having been, under a most painful and mysterious providence, deprived of seven of my dear children, I thought it would not be taking too much upon me, to ask the favour of the insertion of the accompanying letter in your valuable Register. It was sent to my dear wife by our much esteemed and respected pastor, the Rev. W. Hodson. Thinking it might afford some consolation to others placed in similar circumstances, I enclose the letter.

that

I am, dear Sir, yours truly,

J. STRANGE.

3, Mercer's Place, Commercial Road, Dec. 14, 1838. MY DEAR MADAM,-I am sure, that under your late painful bereavements, you need the rich consolations of the holy Gospel. God has broken in upon you with breach upon breach; and by heavy and unlooked for trials, He has bowed your spirit down. May He, who has wounded, heal. May He, who has taken away your dear little ones, pour the balm of consolation into your sorrowing bosom. I hope it has occurred to your thoughts, that God has a right to give and a right to take away, without asking your leave; and He has done so; He has taken your children from this tempestuous world, to that world where sin and sorrow never come. Rest assured, that for some wise and gracious purpose, He has removed your lambs into His fold. It may be, that He saw that they were taking up too much room in your affections-that they were weaning your heart from; Him-that they were encroaching more and more upon His right to the supreme affection of the spirit. And to prevent them taking you from Him, He has taken them from you; you may make Him your all-sufficient portion-a portion, over which disease and death have no power. It may be, that He saw a storm gathering around them a storm of temptation, or a storm of accumulated woe; and in mercy, He has taken them away from the evil to come. He has descended into your habitation, and as it were, He has said, "Suffer your little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." And there in the kingdom of heaven they now are; no storm can reach them there; no sorrow can break in upon their repose, or mar their everlasting peace. Do you not think, that they are better off with God, than they would be with you' ? Do you not think, that they are happier and safer in His bosom than they could possibly be on yours, though distinguished by all the sympathy and love of a mother's heart? I am sure, your reason, your judgment, your feelings, suggest an answer in the affirmative, and lead you to say, Yes, they are better in heaven than they could be upon earth-they are happier in their Father's house above, than they could be in their father's house below. Let me remind you, then, my dear friend, that though your children are dead, yet that your Redeemer is alive for evermore. And He feels for you, and He sympathizes with you, and says to you, "Weep not; your children are not dead, they only sleep." And if, through infinite mercy, you are enabled to live near to Him, as I trust you will be, you will find more safety in His arm, and more happiness in His presence and love, than ever you would have found with your seven children, had they all been spared to you, and had been distinguished by all those natural and spiritual graces, which can possibly adorn the human character. Take comfort, then, you have a Saviour in heaven, and you have the privilege and the happiness of having seven children in heaven with that Saviour. And is this nothing? is it nothing to have borne seven spirits, who are before the throne-and does not the conviction that you possess, that they are before the throne, minister consolation to your afflicted bosom? I am sure, that if they were permitted to stoop from their celestial thrones to speak to you, they would say "Mother! weep not for us; we are happy, we are happy beyond your power of conception; weep not for us, but prepare to follow us; that where we are- -that where your Saviour is-there you may be."

Oh! my friend, have much to do with the throne of grace. Have much to do with the promises of grace. Have much to do with the God of grace. And the

burden will be rolled away from your heart; and the tear will be wiped away from your eye; and the pathway to the tomb will be illumined with celestial light; and you will be stimulated to reach to that immortal glory, in the midst of which your children now dwell. I have no donbt that your kind husband will suggest other sources of comfort, both for his and your relief. The thoughts which have occurred to my own mind, I have penned, with the view of administering a few drops from the "balm of Gilead" to comfort you.

I remain, your affectionate friend and pastor,

THE SCATTERED JEWS.

"And Moses said, I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burned."Exodus iii. 3.

Through many a waste heart-sickening page, To see, throughout that dreary maze,

OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.

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VISIT TO MR. BARRINGTON AND LORD WRIOTHESLEY RUSSELL.

I HAD heard of their Christian character from Dr. Rumsey, in whose neighbourhood they live, and who loves them as sons. During the intermission of the meeting, I said to them that I expected to spend the following Sunday at Dr. Rumsey's; and if they would meet me there at night, we would spend some time together in devotional exercises. Lord Wriothesley Russell answered, that he would be very glad to do so, but he had a meeting of his people that night. "Oh!" said I, "then I will go over to your parish and attend it." "But," said he, "it is in my kitchen; just a little thing for my poor people." "So much the better," I replied; 'you shall see me there." He seemed not a little surprised, and somewhat embarrassed at the idea; however, Mr. Barrington and I agreed to meet there. Sunday came. The ladies at Dr. Rumsey's and I went in the morning to Mr. Barrington's church; a very small and very old parish church, about two miles from Amersham, in the open country, surrounded on three sides by beech-woods, the air and sound of which gave me quite an Ohio sensation. The old church bears the marks of Saxon antiquity, and is much inferior in all respects to the poorest of our Ohio churches; every thing in it superannuated, inconvenient, and uncomfortable; a congregation of the very plainest order of peasantry, without a single individual but ourselves that seemed to be of any other description. Such is Mr. Barrington's charge; and here this lovely young man, of the first rank and education, with a heart pervaded with the love of Christ, labours" in season and out of season," deeply interested in his people, as if they were surrounded with all that is attractive and stimulating. I fear we have many ministers of much less education and mind, and accustomed to a much humbler bringing up, who would think such a sphere too contracted for their abilities, and too obscure for their ambition. It is a great matter to "mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate." I could not but admire in this good young man, as I joined arms and walked with him after service, the mind of Christ, when I saw him thus "making himself of no reputation," and looking upon this tiny, little, and humble flock, as if it were the world to him, as long as Providence should keep him in it. He said he had been recently cut to the heart at discovering that one of his people, whom he regarded as one of the seals of his ministry, had disgraced his Christian profession, and fallen into overt sin.

In the evening, according to promise, I accompanied the ladies to Chenies, the parish of Lord Wriothesley Russell. This church is the burial-place of the Dukes of Bedford. Under it is the vault in which the several generations of their family are entombed. In the garden of the present incumbent is the house in which resided Lord and Lady Russell of famous memory. We found the pious descendant of this ancient lineage inhabiting a very pretty mansion, built for him by the Duke, his father, furnished in a style of elegant and becoming simplicity. We were received by Lady Russell, a most engaging lady indeed, young, uncommonly beautiful, of manners at once simple and elegant, and, by the testimony of Christians who know her, of a very spiritual mind. She was cousin to Lord Wriothesley Russell, and "was in Christ before him,” and contributed, it is said, very much to his knowledge of religion; though Doddridge's "Rise and progress" is said to have been the chief instrument in his, as well as Mr. Barrington's conversion. After sitting awhile in the drawing-room, we all moved to the kitchen, an apartment as nice and commodious as many lecture-rooms, well furnished with benches, a brass chandelier of four lamps hanging from the ceiling, and a collection of well-dressed people crowding the room. The meeting was opened with a hymn, then an extempore prayer by his lordship; after which he stated that the usual course of the lectures would be suspended, because of the presence of the Bishop of Ohio, whom he then requested to speak to the people. Of course I did not decline an opportu nity of breaking a little bread to the hungry, especially as the pulpits of the churches

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