Page images
PDF
EPUB

king himself, who sent for him, and after a conversation of two hours gave him a thousand guineas to be distributed among those who had suffered most from the penal laws. Owen was a man of vast learning, of very decided views, and a powerful controversialist, though he showed a courtesy and moderation in argument all too unusual on either side in those days. He was appallingly industrious and voluminous as an author. Collected editions of his works appeared in 1828 (28 vols.) and 1850 (24 vols.). Among the works are many sermons, An Exposition on the Epistle to the Hebrews, A Discourse of the Holy Spirit, and The Divine Original and Authority of the Scriptures. His style is far from admirable; his argumentation is terribly discursive, wordy, and tedious; yet there are powerful, terse, and memorable passages and pages, as in this passage on sloth from the exposition of the 130th Psalm:

Great opportunities for service neglected and great gifts not improved are oftentimes the occasion of plunging the soul into great depths. Gifts are given to trade withal for God; opportunities are the market-days for that trade to napkin up the one and let slip the other will end in trouble and disconsolation. Disquietments and perplexities of heart are worms that will certainly breed in the rust of unexercised gifts. God loseth a revenue of glory and honour by such slothful souls, and he will make them sensible of it. I know some at this day whose omissions of opportunities for service are ready to sink them into the grave.

The

John Howe (1630-1705), a great Nonconformist divine, was a native of Loughborough, in Leicestershire, where his father was curate. At Cambridge he was the friend of Cudworth and Henry More, and he subsequently studied at Oxford. In 1652 he was ordained minister of Great Torrington, in Devonshire. Upon public fasts he used to begin at nine in the morning with a prayer of a quarter of an hour, then read and expounded Scripture for about three-quarters, prayed an hour, preached another. hour, and prayed again for half-an-hour. people then sang for a quarter of an hour, when he retired and took a little refreshment; he then went into the pulpit again, prayed an hour more, preached another hour, and concluded with a prayer of half-an-hour! In 1657 Howe was chosen by Cromwell to reside at Whitehall as one of his chaplains. As he had not coveted the office, he seems never to have liked it. From the 'affected disorderliness' of the Protector's family in religious matters Howe despaired of doing good in his office. But he continued to be chaplain to the Protector, and, after Oliver's death, to Richard Cromwell. When Richard was set aside the minister returned to Great Torrington, but was ejected by the Act of Uniformity in 1662. He was subsequently a minister in Ireland and London, and found leisure to write those admirable works of practical divinity which ranked him among the most gifted and eminent of the Nonconformist divines of England. From 1685 till the Declaration of Indul

gence the 'Platonic Puritan' was in Holland; and he died in London in 1705. The principal works of John Howe are his Living Temple (1676-1702), a treatise on Delighting in God, The Blessedness of the Righteous, The Vanity of Man as Mortal, a Tractate on the Divine Presence, an Inquiry into the Doctrine of the Trinity, and The Redeemer's Dominion over the Invisible World (1699). Robert Hall acknowledged that he had learned more from John Howe than from any other author he ever read, and said there was 'an astonishing magnificence in his conceptions.' Unhappily the matter of his works is vastly better than the manner; endless digressions render most of his works wearisome, his sentences are unwieldy, and the argument is but rarely illumined by lighter touches. His letters of consolation are admirable for their tenderness and Christian philosophy; that to Lady Russell after the execution of her husband is especially fine sent unsigned, its authorship was soon discovered, and led to a lifelong friendship. A touching and dignified persuasion not to sorrow as those who have no hope, but to live for duties left, concludes thus:

I multiply words, being loth to lose my design; and shall only add that consideration, which cannot but be valuable with you, upon his first proposal, who had all the advantages imaginable to give it its full weight-I mean that of those dear pledges left behind: my own heart even bleeds to think of the case of those sweet babes, should they be bereaved of their other parent too. And even your continued visible dejection would be their unspeakable disadvantage. You will always naturally create in them a reverence of you; and I cannot but apprehend how the constant mien, aspect, and deportment of such a parent will insensibly influence the temper of dutiful children; and if that be sad and despondent, depress their spirits, blunt and take off the edge and quickness upon which their future usefulness and comfort will much depend. Were it possible their now glorious father should visit and inspect you, would you not be troubled to behold a frown in that bright serene face? You are to please a more penetrating eye, which you will best do by putting on a temper and deportment suitable to your weighty charge and duty, and to the great purposes for which God continues you in the world, by giving over unnecessary solitude and retirement, which (though it pleases) doth really prejudice you, and is more than you can bear. Nor can any rules of decency require more. Nothing that is necessary and truly Christian ought to be reckoned unbecoming. David's example is of too great authority to be counted a pattern of indecency. The God of heaven lift up the light of his countenance upon you, and thereby put gladness into your heart; and give you to apprehend him saying to you, 'Arise and walk in the light of the Lord.'

That I have used so much freedom in this paper, I make no apology for; but do, therefore, hide myself in the dark, not judging it consistent with that plainness which I thought the case might require, to give any other account of myself than that I am one deeply sensible of your and your noble relatives' great affliction, and who scarce ever bow the knee before the mercy-seat without remembering it: and who shall ever be, madam, your

ladyship's most sincere honourer, and most humble devoted servant.

A collected edition of Howe's works, with a Life by Calamy, was published in 1724. Other Lives are by Hunt (1810), Dunn (1836), Urwick (1846), Hewlett (1848), and especially Rogers (1836; new ed. 1879).

John Flavel (1627-91), born at Bromsgrove, and educated at Oxford, took Presbyterian orders in 1650, and was ejected from his living at Dartmouth in 1662. He continued to preach there privately, and after the Declaration of Indulgence (1687) was minister of a Nonconformist church till his death. He published some thirty works, filling in some of the collected editions six volumes. writings were very popular, and sometimes-as in Husbandry Spiritualised and Navigation Spiritualised-show, along with higher qualities, abundance of elaborate ingenuity and perverse fancy.

His

Ralph Cudworth (1617-88), a very learned divine, was a chief of the group of Cambridge Platonists. Born at Aller, in Somerset, he studied at Cambridge, where, in 1645, he was appointed Regius Professor of Hebrew, and that chair he occupied till his death. He held a series of Church livings, and was Master of Christ's College from 1654, an appointment he retained after the Restoration in spite of his submission to the Government of the Commonwealth. His True Intellectual System of the Universe (1678) was designed as a refutation of atheism and contemporary freethinking. It executes only part of his design-the establishment of the three fundamental or essential truths of true religion: First, that all things in the world do not float without a head and governor; but that there is a God, an omnipotent understanding Being, presiding over all. Secondly, that this God being essentially good and just, there is something in its own nature immutably and eternally just and unjust; and not by arbitrary will, law, and command only. And, lastly, that we are so far forth principals or masters of our own actions as to be accountable to justice for them, or to make us guilty and blameworthy for what we do amiss, and to deserve punishment accordingly.' Against Hobbes, he maintained the natural and everlasting distinction between justice and injustice, as also the freedom of the human will; but he differs from most subsequent opponents of Hobbism, in ascribing our recognition of right and wrong entirely to the reasoning faculties, and in no degree to sentiment or emotion. In the Intellectual System ethical questions are but incidentally and occasionally touched upon; but the work is so discursive as to find room for disquisitions on the meaning of the pagan mythology and the relation of the Platonic to the Christian trinity, and though sagacious and large-minded, fatigues by its redundant digressions. In combating the atheists, Cudworth displays a prodigious amount of erudition, and that rare candour which prompts a controversialist to give a fair statement of the opinions and arguments which he means to

refute. This honourable distinction brought upon him the reproach of insincerity; and by some contemporaries the epithets of Arian, Socinian, Deist, and even Atheist were freely applied to him. He has raised,' says Dryden, 'such strong objections against the being of a God and Prov dence, that many think he has not answered them' —‘the common fate,' as Shaftesbury remarked, ‘of those who dare to appear fair authors.' This clamour seems to have disheartened the philosopher, who refrained from publishing the other portions of his scheme. He left behind him several manuscript works, one of which, A Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality, was published in 1731 by Bishop Chandler, and was a real contribution to ethics. Some of his unprinted writings are now in the British Museum. His sermon before the House of Commons in 1647 shows the best side of the Latitudinarian school of which he was a representative, and, according to Mackintosh, may fairly be compared with Taylor's Liberty of Prophesying (published the year before) 'for charity, piety, and the most liberal toleration.' Dugald Stewart noted that 'the Intellectual System of Cudworth embraces a field much wider than his treatise of Immutable Morality. The latter is particularly directed against the doctrines of Hobbes and of the Antinomians; but the former aspires to tear up by the roots all the principles, both physical and metaphysical, of the Epicurean philosophy. It is a work, certainly, which reflects much honour on the talents of the author, and still more on the boundless extent of his learning; but it is so ill suited to the taste of the present age, that, since the time of Mr Harris and Dr Price, I scarcely recollect the slightest reference to it in the writings of our British metaphysicians.' Interest cannot be said to have revived since Dugald Stewart's time.

The first specimen is the beginning of the famous sermon to the House of Commons (on 1 John ii. 3, 4); the others, fragments from the torso of the Intellectual System.

Of Knowledge and Religion. We have much enquiry concerning knowledge in these latter times. The sons of Adam are now as busy as ever himself was about the tree of knowledge of good and evil, shaking the boughs of it, and scrambling for the fruit; whilst, I fear, many are too unmindful of the tree of life. And though there be now no cherubims with their flaming swords to fright men off from it, yet the way that leads to it seems to be so solitary and untrodden, as if there were but few that had any mind to taste of the fruit of it. There be many that speak of new glimpses and discoveries of truth, of dawnings of gospel-light; and no question but God hath reserved much of this for the very evening and sun-set of the world; for in the latter days knowledge shall be increased: but yet I wish we could in the mean time see that day to dawn which the Apostle speaks of, and that day-star to arise in men's hearts. I wish, whilst we talk of light and dispute about truth, we could walk more as children of the light. Whereas, if S. John's rule be good here in the text, that

no man truly knows Christ but he that keepeth his commandments, it is much to be suspected that many of us which pretend to light have a thick and gloomy darkness within over-spreading our souls.

There be now many large volumes and discourses written concerning Christ, thousands of controversies discussed, infinite problems determined concerning his divinity, humanity, union of both together, and what not, so that our bookish Christians, that have all their religion in writings and papers, think they are now completely furnished with all kind of knowledge concerning Christ; and when they see all their leaves lying about them, they think they have a goodly stock of knowledge and truth, and cannot possibly miss of the way to heaven; as if religion were nothing but a little book-craft, a mere paper-skill.

But if S. John's rule here be good, we must not judge of our knowing of Christ by our skill in books and papers, but by our keeping of his commandments. And that, I fear, will discover many of us (notwithstanding all this light which we boast of round about us) to have nothing but Egyptian darkness within our hearts.

The vulgar sort think that they know Christ enough out of their creeds and catechisms and confessions of faith; and if they have but a little acquainted themselves with these, and like parrots conned the words of them, they doubt not but that they are sufficiently instructed in all the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. Many of the more learned, if they can but wrangle and dispute about Christ, imagine themselves to be grown great proficients in the school of Christ.

The greatest part of the world, whether learned or unlearned, think that there is no need of purging and purifying of their hearts for the right knowledge of Christ and his gospel; but though their lives be never so wicked, their hearts never so foul within, yet they may know Christ sufficiently out of their treatises and discourses, out of their meer systems and bodies of divinity: which I deny not to be useful in a subordinate way; although our Saviour prescribeth his disciples another method to come to the right knowledge of divine truths, by doing of God's will; He that will do my father's will (saith he) shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God. He is a true Christian indeed, not he that is only book-taught, but he that is God-taught; he that hath an unction from the Holy One (as our Apostle calleth it), that teacheth him all things; he that hath the spirit of Christ within him, that searcheth out the deep things of God for as no man knoweth the things of a man save the spirit of a man which is in him, even so the things of God knoweth no man but the Spirit of God.

Ink and paper can never make us Christians, can never beget a new nature, a living principle in us; can never form Christ or any true notions of spiritual things in our hearts. The Gospel, that new law which Christ delivered to the world, it is not merely a dead letter without us, but a quickening spirit within us. Cold theorems and maxims, dry and jejune disputes, lean syllogistical reasonings, could never yet of themselves beget the least glimpse of true heavenly light, the least sap of saving knowledge in any heart. All this is but the groping of the poor dark spirit of man after truth, to find it out with his own endeavours, and feel it with his own cold and benumbed hands. Words and syllables, which are but dead things, cannot possibly convey the living notions of heavenly truths to us. The secret mysteries of a divine

life, of a new nature, of Christ formed in our hearts, they cannot be written or spoken, language and expressions cannot reach them; neither can they be ever truly understood, except the soul itself be kindled from within, and awakened into the life of them. A painter that would draw a rose, though he may flourish some likeness of it in figure and colour, yet he can never paint the scent and fragrancy; or if he would draw a flame, he cannot put a constant heat into his colours; he cannot make his pencil drop a sound, as the echo in the epigram mocks at him -Si vis similem pingere, pinge sonum. All the skill of cunning artizans and mechanicks cannot put a principle of life into a statue of their own making. Neither are we able to inclose in words and letters the life, soul, and essence of any spiritual truths, and, as it were, to incorporate it in them.

Some philosophers have determined that apérŋ is not didakтov, virtue cannot be taught by any certain rules or precepts. Men and books may propound some directions to us, that may set us in such a way of life and practice as in which we shall at last find it within ourselves, and be experimentally acquainted with it; but they cannot teach it us like a mechanick art or trade. No, surely, there is a spirit in man; and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth understanding. But we shall not meet with this spirit any where but in the way of obedience the knowledge of Christ and the keeping of his commandments must always go together, and be mutual causes of one another.

Two Atheist Arguments.

And lastly, the topick of evils in general is insisted upon by them, not those which are called culpa, evils of fault (for that is a thing which the Democritick Atheists utterly explode in the genuine sense of it), but the evils of pain and trouble, which they dispute concerning after this manner. The supposed Deity and maker of the world was either willing to abolish all evils, but not able; or he was able but not willing; or thirdly, he was neither willing nor able; or else lastly, he was both able and willing. This latter is the only thing that answers fully to the notion of a God. Now, that the supposed creator of all things was not thus both able and willing to abolish all evils is plain, because then there would have been no evils at all left. Wherefore since there is such a deluge of evils overflowing all, it must needs be that either he was willing and not able to remove them, and then he was impotent; or else he was able and not willing, and then he was envious; or lastly, he was neither able nor willing, and then he was both impotent and

envious.

In the twelfth place, the Atheists further dispute in this manner. If the world were made by any Deity, then it would be governed by a providence; and if there were any providence, it must appear in human affairs. But here it is plain that all is Tohu and Bohu, chaos and confusion; things happening alike to all, to the wise and foolish, religious and impious, virtuous and vicious. (For these names the Atheist cannot chuse but make use of, though by taking away natural morality they really destroy the things.) From whence it is concluded that all things float up and down, as they are agitated and driven by the tumbling billows of careless fortune and chance. The impieties of Dionysius, his scoffing abuses of religion, and whatsoever was then sacred or worship'd under the notion of a God, were most notorious; and yet it is

observed that he fared never a jot the worse for it. Hunc nec Olympius Jupiter fulmine percussit, nec Esculapius misero diuturnoque morbo tabescentem interemit; verum in suo lectulo mortuus, in Tympanidis rogum illatus est, eamque potestatem, quam ipse per scelus nactus erat, quasi justam & legitimam hæreditatis loco tradidit: Neither did Jupiter Olympius strike him with a thunderbolt, nor Æsculapius inflict any languishing disease upon him; but he died in his bed, and was honourably interred, and that power which he had wickedly acquired, he transmitted as a just and lawful inheritance to his posterity. And Diogenes the Cynick, though much a Theist, could not but acknowledge that Harpalus, a famous robber or pirate in those times, who, committing many villanous actions, notwithstanding lived prosperously, did thereby Testimonium dicere contra deos, bear testimony against the Gods. Though it has been objected by the Theists, and thought to be a strong argument for providence, that there were so many tables hung up in temples, the monuments of such as having prayed to the gods in storms and tempests, had escaped shipwreck; yet as Diagoras observed, Nusquam picti sunt qui naufragium fecerunt, there are no tables extant of those of them who were shipwreck'd. Wherefore it was not considered by these Theists, how many of them that prayed as well to the gods did notwithstanding suffer shipwreck; as also how many of those which never made any devotional addresses at all to any deity escaped equal dangers of storms and tempests.

Moreover, it is consentaneous to the opinion of a God, to think that thunder rattling in the clouds with thunderbolts should be the immediate significations of his wrath and displeasure: whereas it is plain that these are flung at random, and that the fury of them often lights upon the innocent, whilst the notoriously guilty escape untouched; and therefore we understand not how this can be answered by any Theists.

Tohu and Bohu are the Hebrew words rendered without form and void in the second verse of Genesis in the Authorised Version. The Latin quotation is from Cicero, De Finibus, iii. 35

Christianity Confirmed from the Existence of Wizards and Demoniacs.

To this phænomenon of apparitions might be added those two others of magicians or wizards, dæmoniacks or Energumeni; both of these proving also the real existence of spirits, and that they are not mere phancies and imaginary inhabitants of men's brains only, but real inhabitants of the world. As also that among those spirits there are some foul, unclean, and wicked ones (though not made such by God, but by their own apostacy), which is some confirmation of the truth of Christianity, the Scripture insisting so much upon these evil dæmons or devils, and declaring it to be one design of our Saviour Christ's coming into the world, to oppose these confederate powers of the kingdom of darkness, and to rescue mankind from the thraldom and bondage thereof. for wizards and magicians, persons who associate and confederate themselves in a peculiar manner with these evil spirits, for the gratification of their own revenge, lust, ambition, and other passions; besides the Scriptures, there hath been so full an attestation given to them by persons unconcerned in all ages, that those our so confident exploders of them in this present age can hardly escape the suspicion of having some hankering towards atheism. But as for the dæmoniacks and Energumeni,

As

it hath been wondered that there should be so many of them in our Saviour's time, and hardly any, or none, in this present age of ours. Certain it is, from the writings of Josephus, in sundry places, that the Pharisaick Jews were then generally possessed with an opinion of these daμovisóμevo, dæmoniacks, men possessed with devils, or infested by them. And that this was not a mere phrase or form of speech only amongst them for persons very ill affected in their bodies may appear from hence, that Josephus declares it as his opinion concerning the dæmons or devils, that they were .. the spirits or souls of wicked men deceased getting into the bodies of the living. From hence it was that the Jews, in our Saviour's time, were not at all surprised with his casting out of devils, it being usual for them also to exorcise the same; an art which they pretended to have learn'd from Solomon.

See Tulloch's Rational Theology in England (1872), Martineau's Types of Ethical Theory (vol. ii. 1885), and monographs by Ch. E. Lowrey (New York, 1884) and W. R. Scott (1891).

In

Sir Richard Fanshawe, poet and translator as well as royalist diplomat, was born at Ware Park, Hertfordshire, in 1608, studied at Jesus College, Cambridge, and went abroad to study languages. In the Civil War he sided with the king, and while at Oxford married in 1644 the brave and lively Anne Harrison (1625-80). 1648 he became treasurer to the navy under Prince Rupert, in 1651 was taken prisoner at Worcester, and on Cromwell's death withdrew to the Continent. After the Restoration he was appointed ambassador at the courts of Portugal and Spain, and died suddenly at Madrid, 26th June 1666. Fanshawe's works include The Faithfull Shepheard (1647), a translation from the Italian of Guarini's Pastor Fido; Selected Parts of Horace (1652), perhaps his happiest effort in translation; a translation into Latin verse of Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess; The Lusiad (1655), a translation from Camoens, criticised by Mickle as harsh and unpoetical, but praised by Southey and commended by Burton; and Querer per Solo Querer (To Love for Love's Sake'), a dramatic romance translated from the Spanish of Hurtado de Mendoza, and quoted by Charles Lamb with commendation both of play and translator. In the first scene of The Faithfull Shepheard, Linco and Silvio during a boar-hunt converse thus:

Linco. Fond youth, for a wild boar so far to roam, Whom thou must hunt with danger; when at home One's safely lodg'd!

Silvio.

Dost thou speak seriously?

[blocks in formation]

From whom there lives not at this day a swain
So proud 'mongst us but sighs and sighs in vain ;
To have, I say, this matchless paragon
By gods and men reserv'd for thee, nay thrown
Into thine arms without one sigh or tear,
And thou unworthy! to disvalue her;
Art thou not then a beast, a savage one?
Rather a senseless clod, a stock, a stone?
Sil. If not to be in love be cruelty,
Then cruelty's a vertue; nor do I
Repent but boast I lodge him in my breast

By whom I've conquer'd Love, the greater beast.
Lin. How could'st thou conquer, silly idiot,
Whom thou ne're try❜dst.

[blocks in formation]

We went to the Lady Honor O'Brien's; . . . she was the youngest daughter of the Earl of Thomond. There we staid three nights, the first of which I was surprised by being laid in a chamber, when, about one o'clock, I heard a voice that awakened me. I drew the curtain, and in the casement of the window I saw by the light of the moon a woman leaning into the window through the casement, in white, with red hair, and pale and ghastly complexion. She spake loud, and in a tone I had never heard, thrice, 'A horse!' and then with a sigh more like the wind than breath, she vanished, and to me her body looked more like a thick cloud than substance. I was so much frightened that my hair stood on end, and my night-clothes fell off. I pulled and pinched your father, who never woke during the disorder I was in; but at last was much surprised to see me in this fright, and more so when I related the story and shewed him the window opened. Neither of us slept more that night, but he entertained me with telling me how much more these apparitions were usual in this country than in England; and we concluded the cause to be the great superstition of the Irish, and the want of that knowing faith which should defend them from the power of the Devil, which he exercises among them very much. About five o'clock the lady of the house came to see us, saying she had not been in bed all night, because a cousin O'Brien of hers, whose ancestors had owned that house, had desired her to stay with him in his chamber, and that he died at two o'clock, and she said: 'I wish you to have had no disturbance, for 'tis the custom of the place, that when any of the family are dying the shape of a woman appears in the window every night till they be dead. This woman was many ages ago got with child

by the owner of this place, who murdered her in his garden, and flung her into the river under the window; but truly I thought not of it when I lodged you here, it being the best room in the house.' We made little reply to her speech, but disposed ourselves to be gone suddenly.

Domestic Diplomacy.

My husband had provided very good lodgings for us [at Bristol], and as soon as he could come home from the council, where he was at my arrival, he with all expressions of joy received me in his arms, and gave me a hundred pieces of gold, saying: 'I know thou that keeps my heart so well will keep my fortune, which from this I will ever put into thy hands as God shall bless me with increase;' and now I thought myself a perfect queen, and my husband so glorious a crown, that I more valued myself to be called by his name than born a princess; for I knew him very wise and very good, and his soul doated on me-upon which confidence I will tell you what happened. My Lady Rivers, a brave woman, and one that had suffered many thousand pounds loss for the king, and whom I had a great reverence for, and she a kindness for me as a kinswoman, in discourse she tacitly commended the knowledge of state affairs, and that some women were very happy in a good understanding thereof, as my Lady Aubigny, Lady Isabel Thynne, and divers others, and yet none was at first more capable than I; that in the night she knew there came a post from Paris from the queen, and that she would be extremely glad to hear what the queen commanded the king in order to his affairs, saying if I would ask my husband privately he would tell me what he found in the packet, and I might tell her. I, that was young and innocent, and to that day had never in my mouth What news?' began to think there was more inquiring into public affairs than I thought of, and that it being a fashionable thing would make me more beloved of my husband, if that had been possible, than I then When my husband returned home from council, after welcoming him, as his custom ever was he went with his handful of papers into his study for an hour or more. I followed him; he turned hastily and said : 'What wouldst thou have, my life?' I told him I heard the prince had received a packet from the queen, and I guessed it was that in his hand, and I desired to know what was in it. He smilingly replied: "My love, I will immediately come to thee; pray thee, go, for I am very busy.' When he came out of his closet, I revived my suit; he kissed me, and talked of other things. supper I would eat nothing; he as usual sat by me, and drank often to me, which was his custom, and was full of discourse to company that was at table. Going to bed, I asked again, and said I could not believe he loved me if he refused to tell me all he knew; but he answered nothing, but stopped my mouth with kisses. went to bed; I cried, and he went to sleep. Next morning early, as his custom was, he called to rise, but began to discourse with me first, to which I made no reply; he rose, came on the other side of the bed, and kissed me, and drew the curtains softly and went to court. When he came home to dinner, he presently came to me as was usual, and when I had him by the hand, I said: Thou dost not care to see me troubled ;' to which he, taking me in his arms, answered: 'My dearest soul, nothing upon earth can afflict me like that: but when you asked me of my business, it was wholly

was.

At

So we

« PreviousContinue »