lator and continuator of Lucan (1627-30); he brought down the history of the period from the battle of Pharsalia to the death of Julius Cæsar, and then translated the 'Supplement to Lucan,' as it was called, into the language and verse of the original. Anthony Wood and Clarendon, both of whom despised the man, highly commended his Lucan. The translation was warmly praised by Ben Jonson; the continuation is respectable, and the Latin version of the continuation more than respectable. Dr Johnson held that May's Latin poetry was superior to either Cowley's or Milton's, and the best England could till then show. May also translated the Georgics, some of Martial's epigrams, and part of Barclay's Argenis. He is chiefly remembered as the historian of the Long Parliament. The History of the Parliament of England, which began November 3, 1640, published by him as 'Secretary for the Parliament' in 1647, has a prefatory 'view' which comprises characters of Queen Elizabeth, King James, and Charles I.; and the narrative closes in 1643, at the most interesting crisis of the struggle. He laments that the Civil War has divided 'the understandings of men as well as their affections in so high a degree that scarce could any virtue gain due applause, any reason give satisfaction, or any relation obtain credit unless amongst men of the same side;' professes impartiality; and seldom expressly passes judgment. But though not merely those of his own way of thinking praised the History, though Warburton approved its penetration and candour, and the Earl of Chatham recommended it as honester and more instructive than Clarendon's, most of his own contemporaries doubted or denied his impartiality and suspected his honesty. Mr. Firth says that, while in the History he is merely the official apologist of the Parliament, in the abridged form of it, published 1650, he has become the panegyrist of the army and the Independents. The style of the History is smooth and well written, and full of Latin quotations and illustrations from Latin history. The picture May gives us of the social state of the times seems more like what we conceive of the reign of Charles II. than that of the grave and decorous First Charles :

Profanenesse too much abounded everywhere; and which is most strange, where there was no religion, yet there was superstition. Luxury in diet and excesse both in meat and drinke was crept into the kingdome in a high degree, not only in the quantity but in the wanton curiosity. And in abuse of those good creatures which God had bestowed upon this plentifull land, they mixed the vices of divers nations, catching at everything that was new and forraigne.

'Non vulgo nota placebant Gaudia, non usu plebeio trita voluptas.' (PETRONIUS.) 'Old knowne delight

They scorne, and vulgar bare-worne pleasure sleight.' As much pride and excesse was in apparell, almost among all degrees of people, in new-fangled and variousfashioned attire; they not only imitated but excelled

their forraigne patterns; and in fantastical gestures and behaviour, the petulancy of most nations in Europe. The serious men groaned for a parliament; but the great statesmen plied it the harder, to compleat that work they had begun, of setting up prerogative above all lawes. The Lord Wentworth (afterwards created Earle of Strafford for his service in that kinde) was then labouring to oppresse Ireland, of which he was deputy; and to begin that worke in a conquered kingdome which was intended to be afterward wrought by degrees in England and indeed he had gone very farre and prosperously in those waies of tyranny, though very much to the endammaging and setting backe of that newly established kingdome. He was a man of great parts, of a deepe reach, subtle wit, of spirit and industry, to carry on his businesse, and such a conscience as was fit for that work he was designed to. He understood the right way, and the liberty of his country, as well as any man; for which in former parliaments he stood up stiffely, and seemed an excellent patriot. For those abilities he was soon taken off by the king, and raised in honour, to be imployed in a contrary way, for inslaving of his country, which his ambition easily drew him to undertake.

The court of England, during this long vacancy of parliaments, enjoyed itself in as much pleasure and splendour as ever any court did. The revels, triumphs, and princely pastimes were for those many yeares kept up at so great a height, that any stranger which travelled into England would verily believe a kingdom that looked so cheerefully in the face could not be sick in any part.

See Clarendon and Wood; the edition of May's History by Lord Maseres (1812; reprinted 1854); and Mr Firth's article in the Dictionary of National Biography (1894).

Peter Heylyn (1599–1662) was one of the clerical adherents of the king despoiled of their goods by the Parliament. Born at Burford, in Oxfordshire, he studied at Oxford, was deprived of his living under the Commonwealth, and after the Restoration was made Dean of Westminster. A strong supporter of Laud, he was a vehement and acrimonious controversialist on the anti-Puritan side. Amongst some forty publications are a Life of Laud, a geography and cosmography, histories of the Reformation and of the Presbyterians (in England), and a history of Sabbath observance in favour of the less strict view. In a narrative of a six weeks' tour to France in 1625, not published till 1656, and then without his consent, he gives an Englishman's (not too complimentary) description of

The French.

The present French, then, is nothing but an old Gaule moulded into a new name: as rash he is, as headstrong, and as hare-brained. A nation whom you shall winne with a feather and lose with a straw; upon the first sight of him, you shall have him as familiar as your sleep, or the necessity of breathing. In one hour's conference you may indear him to you, in the second unbutton him, the third pumps him dry of all his secrets, and he gives them you as faithfully as if you were his ghostly father, and bound to conceale them sub sigillo confessionis [under the seal of confession']; when you have learned this, you may lay him aside, for he is no longer serviceable. If you have any

humor in holding him in a further acquaintance (a favour which he confesseth, and I beleeve him, he is unworthy of), himself will make the first separation : he hath said over his lesson now unto you, and now must find out somebody else to whom to repeate it. Fare him well; he is a garment whom I would be loath to wear above two dayes together, for in that time he will be thred-bare. Familiare est hominis omnia sibi remittere ['It is usual for men to overlook their own faults'], saith Velleius of all; it holdeth most properly in this people. He is very kind hearted to himself, and thinketh himself as free from wants as he is full; so much he hath in him the nature of a Chynois [Chinese], that he thinketh all men blind but himself. In this private self-conceitedness he hateth the Spaniard, loveth not the English, and contemneth the German; himself is the only courtier and compleat gentleman, but it is his own glass which he seeth in. Out of this conceit of his own excellencie, and partly out of a shallowness of brain, he is very lyable to exceptions; the least distaste that can be draweth his sword, and a minutes pause sheatheth it to your hand; afterwards, if you beat him into better manners, he shall take it kindly, and cry Serviteur. In this one thing they are wonderfully like the Devil; meekness or submission makes them insolent; a little resistance putteth them to their heeles, or makes them your spaniels. In a word (for I have held him too long) he is a walking vanitie in a new fashion.

I will give you now a taste of his table, which you shall find in a measure furnished (I speak not of the paisant), but not with so full a manner as with us. Their beef they cut out into such chops, that that which goeth there for a laudable dish, would be thought here a university commons, new served from the hatch. A loin of mutton serves amongst them for three rostings, besides the hazard of making pottage with the rump. Fowl also they have in good plenty, especially such as the king found in Scotland; to say truth, that which they have is sufficient for nature and a friend, were it not for the mistress or the kitchin wench. I have heard much fame of the French cookes, but their skill lyeth not in the neat handling of beef and mutton. They have (as generally have all this nation) good fancies, and are special fellowes for the making of puff-pastes, and the ordering of banquets. Their trade is not to feed the belly, but the pallat. It is now time you were set down, where the first thing you must do is to say your grace: private graces are as ordinary there as private masses, and from thence I think they learned them. That done, fall to where you like best; they observe no method in their eating, and if you look for a carver, you may rise fasting. When you are risen, if you can digest the sluttishness of the cookery, which is most abominable at first sight, I dare trust you in a garrison. Follow him to church, and there he will shew himself most irreligious and irreverent; I speak not of all, but the general. At a mass in Cordeliers' church in Paris I saw two French papists, even when the most sacred mystery of their faith was celebrating, break out into such a blasphemous and atheistical laughter, that even an Ethnick would have hated it; it was well they were Catholiques, otherwise some French hot-head or other would have sent them laughing to Pluto.

The French language is indeed very sweet and delectable it is cleared of all harshness by the cutting and leaving out the consonants, which maketh it fall off the tongue very volubly; yet in my opinion it is rather elegant than copious; and therefore is much troubled for want of words to find out periphrases. It expresseth very much of itself in the action; the head, body, and shoulders concur all in the pronouncing of it; and he that hopeth to speak it with a good grace must have something in him of the mimick. It is enriched with a full number of significant proverbs, which is a great help to the French humor in scoffing, and very full of courtship, which maketh all the people complimental; the poorest cobbler in the village hath his court cringes and his eau béniste de cour, his court holy-water, as perfectly as the Prince of Condé.

French Love of Dancing.

At my being there, the sport was dancing, an exercise much used by the French, who doe naturally affect it. And it seems this natural inclination is so strong and deep rooted, that neither age nor the absence of a smiling fortune can prevaile against it. For on this dancing-green there assembleth not only youth and gentry, but also age and beggery; old wives, which could not set foot to ground without a crutch in the streets, had here taught their feet to amble; you would have thought by the cleanly conveyance and carriage of their bodies that they had beene troubled with the sciatica, and yet so eager in the sport as if their dancing. dayes should never be done. Some there was so ragged, that a swift galliard would almost have shaked them into nakednesse, and they also most violent to have their carcasses directed in a measure. To have attempted the staying of them at home, or the perswading of them to work when they heard the fiddle, had been a task too unweildy for Hercules. In this mixture of age and condition, did we observe them at their pastime; the rags being so interwoven with the silks, and wrinkled brows so interchangeably mingled with fresh beauties, that you would have thought it to have been a mummery of fortunes; as for those of both sexes which were altogether past action, they had caused themselves to be carried thither in their chairs, and trod the measures with their eyes.

Goldsmith in the next century dwelt in the Traveller on the same national characteristic: A like all ages: dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze; And the gay grandsire, skilled in gestic lore, Has frisked beneath the burden of threescore.

At Orleans, Heylyn found a large number of learned Germans resident, mainly for the study of law, and having a regular corporation, with a procurator, quæstor, assessors, and librarians :

If it happen that any of them dye there, they all accompany him to his grave, in a manner mixt so orderly of griefe and state that you would think the obsequies of some great potentate were solemnizing; and to say truth of them, they are a hearty and loving nation, not to one another onely, but to strangers, and especially to us of England. Onely I could wish that in their speech and complement they would not use the Latine tongue, or else speak it more congruously: you shall hardly finde

a man amongst them which can make a shift to expresse himselfe in that language, nor one amongst an hundred that can doe it Latinely. Galleriam, Compaginem, Gardinum and the like are as usuall in their common discourse, as to drinke at three of the clock, and as familiar as their sleep. Had they bent their study that way, I perswade my self they would have been excellent good at the common lawes, their tongues so naturally falling on these words which are necessary to a declaration but amongst the rest, I took especiall notice of one Mr Gebour [?], a man of that various mixture of words, that you would have thought his tongue to have been a very Amsterdam of languages; Cras mane v be nous irons ad magnam Galleriam, was one of his remarkable speeches when we were at Paris: but here at Orleans we had them of him thick and threefold. If ever he should chance to dye in a strange place, where his countrey could not be knowne but by his tongue, it could not possibly be but that more nations would strive for him than ever did for Homer. I had before read of the confusion of Babel, in him I came acquainted with it.

William Prynne, born in 1600 at Swanswick, near Bath, graduated from Oriel College, Oxford, in 1621. Admitted a student of Lincoln's Inn, he was called to the Bar, but was early drawn into theological controversy, and during 1627-30 published The Unlovelinesse of Love-lockes, Healthes Sicknesse (against drinking of healths), and three other Puritan and anti-Arminian diatribes. In

1633 appeared his Histrio-Mastix: the Players Scourge, a bulky and scurrilous pamphlet of 1040 small quarto pages, essaying to prove that playwriting, play-acting, and play-going are unlawful and immoral, are in defiance of Scripture and the Church-fathers, and are condemned by the wisest of the heathen. The book was dedicated to the masters of Lincoln's Inn, as the one of the Inns of Court that had not permitted the acting of interludes in its halls. Several passages in the work, summarised in the index as 'women-actors notorious whores,' were held to be a reflection on the virtue of Queen Henrietta Maria, who with her ladies had in the same year taken part in the performance of a play. The denunciation of magistrates who failed in the duty of suppressing theatres, and unpleasant allusions to Nero, were held to point at the king. So Prynne, arraigned in the Star Chamber, was, after a year's imprisonment, in 1634 sentenced to have his book burnt by the hangman, pay a fine of £5000, be expelled from Oxford and Lincoln's Inn, lose both his ears in the pillory, and suffer perpetual imprisonment. Three years later, for assailing Laud and the hierarchy in two more pamphlets, a fresh fine of £5000 was imposed; he was again pilloried, and was branded on both cheeks with S. L. ('seditious libeller;' 'stigmata Laudis' in Prynne's own interpretation). He remained a prisoner till, in 1640, he was released by a warrant of the House of Commons. He acted as Laud's bitter prosecutor (1644), and in 1647 became recorder of Bath, in 1648 member for Newport

in Cornwall. But opposing the Independents and Charles I.'s execution, he was one of those of whom the House was 'purged,' and was even imprisoned (1650-52). On Cromwell's death he returned to Parliament as a royalist; and after the Restoration Charles II. 'kept him quiet' by making him keeper of the Tower records. He died 24th October 1669. He wrote in all some two hundred pamphlets and books, remarkable for vehemence and violence rather than for any merit of style. He assailed with equal vehemence the tyranny of the king's government and of the Commonwealth; wrote against prelates, papists, Quakers, and Jews; and attacked with equal vigour Laud, the Puritan Goodwin, Lilburne, Milton, and the Protector. After the Restoration none was more savage against the regicides or more eager for retaliatory measures. Some of his polemical pamphlets were even couched in verse of a kind, one of these being elegantly named A Pleasant Purge for Roman Catholics. Withal he did good service as a compiler of constitutional history, his best works the Calendar of Parlia mentary Writs and his Records. See Documents relating to Prynne, edited by S. R. Gardiner (Camden Society, 1877).

The principal part of the comprehensive titlepage of Prynne's famous book is as follows:

Histrio-Mastix: The Players Scourge or Actors Tragedie, Divided into Two Parts. Wherein it is largely evidenced, by divers Arguments by the concurring Authorities and Resolutions of Sundry texts of Scripture; of the whole Primitive Church, both under the Law and Gospell; of 55 Synodes and Councels; of 71 Fathers and Christian Writers, before the yeare of our Lord 1200; of above 150 foraigne and domestique Protestant and Popish Authors, since; of 40 Heathen Philosophers, Historians, Poets; of many Heathen, many Christian Nations, Republiques, Emperors, Princes, Magistrates; of sundry Apostolicall, Canonicall, Imperiall Constitutions; and of our owne English Statutes, Magistrates, Universities, Writers, Preachers. That popular Stage-playes (the very Pompes of the Divell which we renounce in Baptisme, if we beleeve the Fathers) are sinfull, heathenish, lewde, ungodly Spectacles, and most pernicious Corruptions; condemned in all ages, as intolerable Mischiefes to Churches, to Republickes, to the manners, mindes, and soules of men. And that the Profession of Play-poets, of Stage-players; together with the penning, acting, and frequenting of Stage-playes, are unlawfull, infamous, and misbeseeming Christians. All pretences to the contrary are here likewise fully answered; and the unlawfulnes of acting, of beholding Academicall Enterludes, briefly discussed ; besides sundry other particulars concerning Dancing, Dicing, Health-drinking, &c. of which the Table will informe you. . . . By William Prynne, an VtterBarrester of Lincolnes Inne.

Still in the title-page and before the imprint are a series of Latin citations, with full references, from Cyprian's De Spectaculis, Lactantius's De Vero Cultu, Chrysostom's Homilies on Matthew, and Augustine's De Civitate Dei.

From 'Histrio-Mastix.'-Actvs I. Scena Prima.

That all popular and common Stage-Playes, whether Comicall, Tragicall, Satyricall, Mimicall, or mixt of either, (especially as they are now composed and personated,) are such sinfull, hurtfull, and pernicious Recreations as are altogether unseemely and unlawfull unto Christians; I shall first of all evidence and proove it from their originall parents, and primary Inventors : which were no other but the very Devill himselfe; or at leastwise, Idolatrous and Voluptuous Pagans, impregnated with this infernall issue from Hell it selfe; from whence I argue in the first place thus.

That which had its birth and primarie conception from the very Devil himselfe, who is all and onely evill, must needes be Sinfull, Pernicious, and altogether unseemely, yea, Unlawfull unto Christians.

But Stage-Playes had their birth and primary conception from the very Devil himselfe, who is all and onely evill.

Therefore they must needes bee Sinfull, Pernicious, and altogether unseemely, yea, Unlawfull unto Christians. The Minor, (which is onely liable to exception,) I shall easily make good; First, by the direct and punctuall testimony of sundry Fathers.

But now a-dayes Musicke is growne to such and so great licentiousnesse, that even at the ministration of the holy Sacrament all kinde of wanton and lewde trifling Songs, with piping of Organs, have their place and course. As for the Divine Service and Common prayer, it is so chaunted and minsed and mangled of our costly hired, curious, and nice Musitiens (not to instruct the audience withall, nor to stirre up mens mindes unto devotion, but with a whorish harmony to tickle their eares :) that it may justly seeme not to be a noyse made of men, but rather a bleating of bruite beasts; whiles the Coristers ney descant as it were a sort of Colts; others bellowe a tenour, as it were a company of Oxen others barke a counter-point, as it were a kennell of Dogs: others rore out a treble like a sort of Buls: others grunt out a base as it were a number of Hogs; so that a foule evill favoured noyse is made, but as for the wordes and sentences and the very matter it selfe, is nothing understanded at all; but the authority and power of judgement is taken away both from the minde and from the eares utterly. Erasmus Roterodamus expresseth his minde concerning the curious manner of singing used in Churches on this wise, and saith, Why doth the Church doubt to follow so worthy an Author (Paul), yea, how dare it be bold to dissent from? What other thing is heard in monasteries, in Colledges, in Temples almost generally, then a confused noyse of voyces? But in the time of Paul, there was no singing but saying onely.

For the Minor, that Stage-playes unavoydably produce an intollerable mispence of much pretious time, &c., it is most apparant if we will but summe up all those dayes, those houres which are vainely spent in the composing, conning, practising, acting, beholding of every publike or private Stage-play.

How many

golden dayes and houres, I might say weekes, nay moneths, and I had almost said whole yeeres, doe most Play-poets spend in contriving, penning, polishing their new invented Playes, before they ripen them for the Stage. When these their Playes are brought unto

are

maturity, how many houres, evenings, halfe-dayes, and sometimes weekes, are spent by all the Actors (especially in solemne academicall Enterludes) in copying, in conning, in practising their parts, before they are ripe for publike action. When this is finished, how many men vainely occupied for sundry dayes (yea sometimes yeeres) together, in building Theaters, Stages, Scenes and Scaffolds; in making theatricall Pageants, Apparitions, Attires, Visars, Garments, with such-like Stage-appurtenances, for the more commodious pompous acting and When adorning of these vaine-glorious Enterludes. all things requisite for the publike personating of these Playes are thus exactly accommodated, and the day or night approcheth when these are to be acted, how many hundreds of all sorts vainely if not ridiculously spend whole dayes, whole afternoones and nights ofttimes, in attyring themselves in their richest robes; in providing seates to heare, to see and to be seene of others; or in hearing, in beholding these vain lascivious Stage-playes, (which last some three or foure houres at the least, yea sometimes whole dayes and weekes together, as did some Roman Playes, and yet seeme too short to many, to whom a Lecture, a Sermon, a Prayer, not halfe so long, is over tedious:) who thinke themselves well imployed all the while they are thus wasting this their pretious time (which they scarce know how to spend) upon these idle Spectacles. Adde we to this, that all our common Actors consume not onely weekes and yeeres, but even their whole lives, in learning, practising, or acting Playes, which besides nights and other seasons, engrosse every afternoone almost thorowout the yeere, to their peculiar service; as wee see by daily experience here in London; where thousands spend the moitie of the day, the weeke, the yeere in Playhouses, at least-wise far more houres then they imploy in holy duties, or in their lawful callings. If we annex to this the time that divers waste in reading Playbookes, which some make their chiefest study, preferring them before the Bible or all pious Bookes, on which they seldome seriously cast their eyes; together with the mispent time which the discourses of Playes, either seene or read, occasion: and then summe up all this lost, this mispent time together; we shall soone discerne, we must needs acknowledge, that there are no such Helluoes, such canker-wormes, such theevish Devourers of mens most sacred (yet undervalued) time, as Stageplayes.

Not to mention the over-prodigall disbursements upon Playes and Masques of late penurious times, which have beene wel-nigh as expensive as the Wars, and I dare say more chargable to many then their soules, on which the most of us bestow least cost, least time and care. How many hundreds, if not thousands, are there now among us, (to their condemnation, if not their reformation be it spoken,) who spend more, daily, weekely, monethly, if not yeerely at a Play-house to maintaine the Devils service and his instruments, then they disburse in pious uses, in reliefe of Ministers, Schollers, poore godly Christians, or maintenance of Gods service, all their life. How many assiduous Play-haunters are there who contribute more liberally, more frequently to Play-houses, then to Churches; to Stage-playes, then to Lectures; to Players, then to Preachers; to Actors, then to Poore mens Boxes? being at far greater cost to promote their owne and others just damnation, then themselves or

others are to advance their owne or others salvation. How many are there, who can bee at cost to hire a Coach, a Boate, a Barge, to carry them to a Play-house every day, where they must pay deare for their admission, Seates and Boxes; who will hardly be at any cost to convey themselves to a Sermon once a weeke, a moneth, a yeere, (especially on a weeke day) at a Church far nearer to them then the Play-house; where they may have Seates, have entrance, (yea spirituall Cordials, and celestial Dainties to refresh their soules,) without any money or expence. How many are there, who according to their severall qualities spend 2d. 3d. 4d. 6d. 12d. 18d. 2s. and sometimes 4 or 5 shillings at a Playhouse, day by day, if Coach-hire, Boate-hire, Tobacco, Wine, Beere, and such like vaine expences which Playes doe usually occasion, be cast into the reckoning; and that in these penurious times, who can hardly spare, who can never honestly get by their lawfull callings, halfe so much. How many prodigally consume not onely their charity, apparell, diet, bookes, and other necessaries, but even their annuall Pensions, Revenues and Estates at Picke-purse Stage-playes; which are more expensive to them then all their necessary disbursements. If we summe up all the prodigall vaine expenses which Play-houses and Playes occasion every way, we shall finde them almost infinite, wel-nigh incredible, altogether intollerable in any Christian frugall state; which must needs abandon Stage-playes as the Athenians and Romans did at last even in this regard that they impoverish and quite ruine many; as the fore-quoted testimonies, with many domestique experiments, daily testifie.

Edmund Calamy (1600-66), born in London, studied at Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, and became chaplain to Felton, Bishop of Ely. In 1626-36 he was lecturer at Bury St Edmunds, but resigned when the order to read the Book of Sports was enforced; in 1639 he was chosen minister of St Mary Aldermanbury, London. He had a principal share in Smectymnuus (1641), a reply to Bishop Hall's Divine Right of Episcopacy. It was so called from the initials of the names of the writersStephen Marshall, Edmund Calamy, Thomas Young, Matthew Newcomen, and William Spurstow (the 'uu' standing for the 'w' of 'William'). Calamy was much in favour with the Presbyterian party, but was, on the whole, a moderate man, and disapproved of those measures which ended in the death of the king. Having exerted himself to promote the restoration of Charles II., he received the offer of the bishopric of Coventry and Lichfield; but, after much deliberation, it was rejected. The passing of the Act of Uniformity in 1662 made him retire from his ministerial duties, and he died heart-broken by the Great Fire of London. His sermons were of a plain and practical character; and five of them, published under the title of The Godly Man's Ark, or a City of Refuge in the Day of his Distress, acquired much popularity. -His grandson, EDMUND CALAMY, D.D. (1671– 1732), studied three years at Utrecht, and declining Carstares' offer of a Scotch professorship, from 1694 was a Nonconformist minister in London. His

forty-one works include an Account of the Ejected Ministers (1702) and an interesting Autobiography, first published in 1829.

William Chillingworth (1602–44), a famous polemic, was born at Oxford, and was distinguished as a student there. Hales and Falkland were amongst his friends. An early love of disputation, in which he possessed eminent skill, developed a sceptical temper. A Jesuit named Fisher converted him to the Church of Rome-his chief argument being the necessity of an infallible living guide in matters of faith. He then studied at the Jesuits' College at Douay; and having been, imprudently, requested to write down the reasonings that led to his conversion, he studied anew the whole controversy and became a doubting Papist.' Laud, his godfather, wrote a weighty series of letters to him; and his friends induced him to return to Oxford, where, after additional study of the points of difference, he declared in favour of the Protestant faith. His change of creed drew him into several controversies, in which he employed the arguments that were afterwards methodically stated in his famous work, entitled The Religion of the Protestants a safe way to Salvation, published in 1637. This treatise, which placed its author in the first rank of religious controversialists, is now, in spite of its following the line of argument of a now forgotten book attacking him, hailed as a model of perspicuous reasoning, and one of the ablest defences of the Protestant faith. The author maintains that the Scripture is the only rule to which appeal ought to be made in theological disputes, that no Church is infallible, and that the Apostles' Creed embraces all the necessary points of faith. The Arminian opinions of Chillingworth brought upon him the charge of latitudinarianism; and his character for orthodoxy was still further shaken by his refusal to accept of preferment on condition of subscribing the Thirtynine Articles. His scruples having at length been overcome, he was promoted, in 1638, to the chancellorship of Salisbury. During the Civil War he zealously adhered to the royal party, and even assisted as engineer at the siege of Gloucester in 1643. He died in the bishop's palace in Chichester in the succeeding year. Lord Clarendon, who was one of his intimate friends, has drawn the following character of this eminent divine: 'He was a man of so great a subtilty of understanding, and so rare a temper in debate, that, as it was impossible to provoke him into any passion, so it was very difficult to keep a man's self from being a little discomposed by his sharpness and quickness of argument, and instances in which he had a rare facility, and a great advantage over all the men I ever knew.' Writing to a Roman Catholic, in allusion to the changes of his own faith, Chillingworth says:

I know a man, that of a moderate Protestant turned a Papist, and the day that he did so, was convicted in