indelibly impressed on the minds of every professor of the protestant faith. "When I say," says he in his 6th chapter, "the religion of protestants, is in prudence to be preferred before yours: as on the one side I do not understand by your religion, the doctrine of Bellarmine or Baronius, or any other private man amongst you, nor the doctrine of the Sorbon, or of the Jesuits, or of the Dominicans, or of any other particular company among you, but that wherein you all agree, or profess to agree, the doctrine of the council of Trent: so, accordingly, on the other side, by the religion of protestants, I do not understand the doctrine of Luther, or Calvin, or Melancthon; nor the confession of Augusta, or Geneva, nor the catechism of Heidelberg, nor the articles of the church of England, no nor the harmony of protestant confessions; but that wherein they all agree, and which they all subscribe with a greater harmony, as a perfect rule of their faith and actions, that is, the Bible. The Bible, I say, the Bible only is the religion of protestants. Whatsoever else they believe besides it, and the plain, irrefragable, indubitable consequences of it, well may they hold it as a matter of opinion, but as matter of faith and religion, neither can they with coherence to their own grounds believe it themselves, nor require the belief of it of others, without most high and most schismatical presumption. I, for my part, adds he, after a long (and as I verily believe and hope,) impartial search of the true way to eternal happiness, do profess plainly that I cannot find any rest for the sole of my foot, but upon this rock only. I see plainly, and with mine own eyes, that there are popes against popes, councils against councils, some fathers against others, the same fathers against themselves, a consent of fathers of one age against a consent of fathers of another age, the church of one age against the church of another age. Traditive interpretations of scripture are pretended, but there are few or none to be found. No tradition but only of scripture can derive itself from the fountain, but may be plainly proved, either to have been brought in, in such an age after Christ; or that in such an age it was not in. In a word, there is no sufficient certainty but of scripture only, for any considering man to build upon. This, therefore, and this only, I have reason to believe: this I will profess, according to this I will live, and for this, if there be occasion, I will not only willingly, but even gladly lose my life."

Knott himself, and two other Jesuits, Floyd and Lacy, attempted to answer Chillingworth's performance; but, as might have been anticipated, they found the task too hard for them.

On the promotion of Dr Duppa, chancellor of Salisbury, to the see of Chichester, the vacant chancellorship was conferred on Chillingworth, with the prebend of Brixworth, in Northamptonshire, annexed to it. At the breaking out of the civil war, Chillingworth adhered to the king's party. He was taken prisoner in Arundel castle, on the surrender of that fortress to Sir William Waller, in 1643, and died soon after, at the palace of the bishop of Chichester, having been in bad health for some time previous to the surrender of the garrison. Clarendon represents the latter moments of this great man as having been embittered by the malevolence of some of the parliamentary party. Nothing could be more false. It is true that Dr Cheynell, in his anxiety to promote the spiritual welfare of Chillingworth, paid him frequent visits while on death-bed, and behaved in rather an extraor

dinary manner at his funeral; but it is not true that either Cheynell, or any one else, consciously added to the sufferings of the dying man. On the contrary, it was at Cheynell's express request that Chillingworth was removed to Chichester, for change of air and quiet; and Sir William Waller's own physician was charged to wait upon him, and do every thing in his power to promote his restoration to health.

Besides his controversial tracts, there are extant nine sermons of Chillingworth's, on occasional subjects, and a tract, entitled, 'The Apostolical institution of Episcopacy.'

ness.

Henry Burton.

BORN A. D. 1578 -died A. D. 1648.

HENRY BURTON was born in the year 1578, at Birdsall, in the East Riding of Yorkshire. He received the degree of M.A. at St John's college, Cambridge, where he enjoyed the ministerial services of Chatterton and Perkins. Upon leaving the university, he became tutor to the sons of Lord Carey of Lepington, afterwards earl of Monmouth, by whom he was subsequently recommended to Prince Henry, whom he served as sole officer in his closet during the life of his royal highThis latter situation affording him considerable time for study, he composed a Latin treatise on Antichrist, which he presented to the prince in manuscript. After the death of Prince Henry, he continued in the same office under his brother Charles. About this time he wrote his treatise called 'A Censure of Simony,' and likewise another, entitled, Truth's Triumph over Trent,' wherein, to use his own language, he "unfolded the mystery of iniquity packed up in the sixth session of that council, encountering therein those two champions of the council, Andreas Vega, and Dominicus Soto." These works, with some difficulty, he got licensed by Archbishop Abbot's chaplain, who afterwards refused to license another of Burton's treatises, being a reply to a book entitled, The Converted Jew.'

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On Charles's accession, Burton took it upon him to inform his majesty by letter, how popishly Neile and Laud were inclined. Charles regarded the advice as impertinent, and desired its author to discontinue his attendance in office, until he should be sent for, whereupon Burton sent in his resignation. He now devoted himself zealously to the ministry of the word, and to polemical controversy. Among the works to which he at this time sent forth an answer, were Montague's Appeal to Cæsar,' and Cosen's Private Devotions.' A work by Bishop Hall, in which he affirmed the church of Rome to be the true church, was replied to by Burton in a treatise on the seven vials. For thus writing against the church of Rome, and for publishing without a license, he was twice brought before the high-commission court, but he succeeded in procuring a prohibition. In December 1636, he was cited to appear before Dr Duck, one of the ecclesiastical commissioners, to answer to certain articles brought against him for what he had recently advanced in his sermons. Burton appealed to the king, but was suspended by a special commission court, on which he thought fit to abscond, but published the two offensive sermons under the title of

'For God and the King,' together with an apology justifying his appeal. The consequence of this conduct was, that he soon found himself lodged in the Fleet prison, where he remained shut up from his wife and friends for half-a-year before being brought before the star-chamber. Judgment was pronounced at the same time against Burton, Prynne, and Bastwick, but the two latter were only fined in £5000 each, while poor Burton, in addition to the fine of equal amount, was sentenced to be deprived and degraded, to stand in the pillory two hours, to lose both his ears, and to be kept a perpetual close prisoner in the castle of Lancaster. He bore the execution of his sentence with all the courage and transport of a martyr: "While I stood in the pillory," says he, “I thought myself to be in heaven, and in a state of glory and triumph; if any such state can possibly be on earth. I found these words of Peter verified on me in the pillory, If ye be reproached,' &c. 1 Pet. iv. 14. For my rejoicing was so great all the while, without intermission, that I can no more express it than Paul could his ravishment in the third heaven." His journey from the Fleet to Lancaster resembled more the progress of a triumphant king than of a persecuted and despised criminal. Above 40,000 persons assembled to witness his departure from the city, and nearly 500 of his friends accompanied him on the road.

After twelve weeks imprisonment in the common jail at Lancaster, during which he was visited by hundreds of sympathising friends, he was removed to Cornet castle, in the isle of Guernsey, where he was kept a close prisoner for three years. There, notwithstanding the strict injunctions which had been laid upon his gaolers to keep him from all access to writing materials, he contrived to write several pamphlets, some of which found their way to the public and some did not. At last, this scene of suffering and degradation was exchanged for one of honour and comparative tranquillity. On the 15th of November, 1640, an order for his enlargement arrived from the house of commons. His fellow-prisoner, Prynne, was enlarged at the same time, and proceeded with him to London, their cortege increasing at every town and village through which they passed, until it had swelled to some thousands, who rent the air with their acclamations as these eminent sufferers for conscience sake entered the city. Mr Burton made directly for his own house at Chelsea, but such was the throng of people in the streets, occasioned by his arrival, that he was three hours in passing from the Mews to Aldermanbury. In a few days thereafter, the house of commons declared the whole proceedings of the high-commission and the star-chamber, in the cases of Burton, Prynne, and Bastwick, to be illegal, reversed their sentences, and restored the several sufferers to all degrees, orders, or benefices, which they formerly held, Burton was also ordered a gratuity of £6,000, as a recompense for his personal sufferings under an unjust sentence; but we believe that he never received any portion of this money.

Burton now recommenced his ministerial labours. Soon after he declared himself an independent, and wrote his 'Vindication of Churches commonly called Independent,' in reply to two works by his fellowsufferer Prynne, who was of the presbyterian persuasion. Burton has been often accused of extreme violence and turbulence of temper, and represented as a headstrong and furious fanatic, whom no consideration

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either of Christian forbearance or worldly prudence could tame. detractor affects to say of Burton, that punishment made him an object of pity who never was an object of esteem. In reply to the last of these calumnies, it is sufficient to instance the enthusiastic public welcome which he received on his return from Guernsey. As to the former charge, it is too much to expect that a man whose profession was that of polemics, should have, in such times as he lived in, and with such provocations as he received, uniformly observed the language of courtesy and forbearance towards his antagonists. But we are bold to affirm, that many of his writings exhibit a truly Christian spirit; and that his whole life gave evidence that he not only knew the truth, but felt and acted under its power, and that with much more uniform consistency than many of his bitterest traducers.

Archbishop Williams.

BORN A. D. 1582.-DIED A. D. 1650.

THIS distinguished prelate, the youngest son of a Welsh gentleman of Carnarvonshire, was born at Conway in 1582. After acquiring the rudiments of learning at an endowed school at Ruthin, he was sent to St John's college, Cambridge, where he took the degree of A.B. 1602. His family being wealthy, he was enabled to live in a very comfortable manner while pursuing his studies, and thus to form that ostentatious taste which distinguished him in after life; he was a hard student, however, and is said never to have spent above three or four hours in sleep out of the twenty-four. By close application, and a methodical distribution of his time, he soon acquired a high reputation for scholarship, and obtained the notice of Archbishop Bancroft, Lord Lumley, and the chancellor Ellesmere. The prelate presented to him an archdeaconry, and the chancellor placed him on his own establishment in the quality of domestic chaplain,-a situation described in the quaint but expressive phrase of Williams's biographer, Hacket, as a nest for an eagle.' Williams had discernment and ambition enough to avail himself of all the advantages which his 'nest' afforded him, and so successfully did he cultivate the good graces of the chancellor, that his lordship, upon the day of his death, called Williams to him and told him, "that if he wanted money, he would leave him such a legacy in his will as should enable him to begin the world like a gentleman." "Sir," replied Williams, "I kiss your hands, but you have filled my cup so fuil, that I am far from want; unless it be of your lordships directions how to live in the world if I survive you." "Well," said the chancellor, "I know you are an expert workman, take these tools to work with, they are the best I have." And with these words he placed in his hands a number of books, papers, and memoranda, relating to the high courts of the nation, which the chancellor had drawn up for his own guidance, and from which Williams's biographer does not doubt but the archbishop drew his own system of politics.

The new lord-keeper, Bacon, wished Williams to act as his chaplain, but he declined the proposal, and was preparing to remove to one

of his livings in Northamptonshire, when he received orders to attend his majesty in his northern progress as one of his chaplains in ordinary Soon after this he took his doctor's degree, and held a disputation be fore the archbishop of Spalatro, who was then visiting Cambridge. He acquitted himself greatly to James' satisfaction on this occasion, by his defence of the themes Supremus magistratus non est excommunicabilis,' and 'Subductio calicis est mutilatio sacramenti et sacerdotii.' From this time he constantly grew in favour with his majesty. "The king's table," says Hacket, "was a trial of wits. The reading of some books before him was very frequent while he was at his repast. Otherwise he collected knowledge by variety of questions, which he carried out to the capacity of his understanding visitors. Methought his hunting humour was not off so long as his courtiers, I mean, the learned stood about him at his board. He was ever in chase after some disputable doubts, which he would wind and turn about with the most stabbing objections that ever I heard, and was as pleasant and fellowlike in all these discourses with his huntsmen in the field. They that in many such genial and convivial conferences were ripe and weighty in their answers, were indubiously designed to some place of credit and profit. But among them all with whom King James communed, was found none like Daniel (Williams). His majesty gave ear more gra ciously to this chaplain, and directed his speech to him, when he was at hand, oftener than to any that crowded near to hearken to the wisdom of that Solomon." Williams, if not the ablest of James' auditors, was at least one of the most prudent, and studied the royal pedant's humour to the best advantage. At first, however, he mistook the relation in which it was necessary for him to stand to the favourite Buckingham, whom for some time he neglected to court. James, however, soon gave him to understand, that to stand well in his favour, it was necessary to be in the good graces also of the marquess. He lost no time in improving upon the hint thus given him, and soon rendered himself eminently serviceable to Buckingham by prevailing on the earl of Rutland to bestow his daughter and heiress upon him. The favourite rewarded the chaplain with the valuable deanery of Westmin

ster.

Williams' next promotion was to the office of keeper of the seals, on the removal of the lord-chancellor Bacon from office in 1621. He had not held the seals a month before the bishopric of Lincoln was added to his preferments, with leave to retain his deanery and other benefices As lord-keeper, Bishop Williams discharged his arduous services with. singular assiduity and considerable ability. When he first entered upon office he had such a load of business that he was forced to si by candle-light in the court of chancery, from two hours before day break till between eight and nine. He then repaired to the house of peers, where he sat as speaker till twelve or one o'clock. This duty discharged, he snatched a brief repast, and then returned to hear causes in chancery till eight or nine in the evening. After this, on his return home, he perused his papers, despatched his correspondence, and pre pared for the business of the house of lords next day. In the star chamber, he, upon the whole, conducted himself with greater lenity and moderation than the other judges. He used his influence also with