controversial writer, he has likewise left many proofs of acuteness and diligence, of profound learning and extensive observation.

From his celebrated character by the illustrious marquis of Halifax, a few extracts shall be here subjoined. It was written by a contemporary; and has been allowed, by impartial judges, to be appropriate and fair.

"Dr. Burnet, like all men who are above the ordinary level, is seldom spoken of in a medium; he must either be railed at or admired. He has a swiftness of imagination that no other man comes up to. His first thoughts may sometimes require more digestion; not from a defect of his judgment; but from the abundance of his fancy, which furnishes matter too fast for him. His friends love him too well to heed small faults; or, if they do, think that his greater talents give him a privilege of straying from the strict rules of caution, and exempt him from the ordinary rules of censure. He is not quicker in discerning other men's faults, than he is in forgiving them; so ready, or rather glad, to acknowledge his own, that from blemishes they became ornaments. All the repeated provocations of his indecent adversaries, have had no other effect than the setting his good nature in so much better a light, since his anger never yet went further than to pity them. That heat which in most other men raises sharpness and satire, in him glows into warmth for his friends, and compassion for those in want and misery.

"He makes many enemies, by setting an ill-natured example of living which they are not inclined to follow. His indifference for preferment; his contempt, not only of splendour, but of all unnecessary plenty; his degrading himself into the lowest and most painful duties of his calling; are such unprelatical qualities, that, let him be never so orthodox in other things, in these he must be a dissenter. Virtues of such a stamp are so many heresies, in the opinion of those divines who have softened the

primitive injunctions so as to make them suit better with the present frailty of mankind. No wonder then if they are angry, since it is in their own defence; or that, from a principle of self-preservation, they should endeavour to suppress a man whose parts are a shame, and whose life is a scandal to them."

WILLIAM PENN,

FOUNDER OF PENSYLVANIA.

Born 1644.-Died 1718.

From 19th Charles I., to 4th George I.

To confine all merit to a particular religious persua sion, is certainly the mark of a little mind; of a mind Reither illumined by reason, nor influenced by Christianity. The bigot looks at principles alone, and condemns without mercy, those which do not exactly agree with his own. The man of virtue and understanding makes a candid allowance for the prejudices of education, or the fallibility of human judgment; and in right practices, from whatEver source they spring, sees much to love and to admire. The former, in his narrow zeal, disregards good actions, the only incontestable proof of good principles; the latter, without suffering any improper bias to mislead him, judges of the tree according to its fruit.

Had Penn lived in the age of Solon or of Lycurgus, his name would have floated down the stream of time with theirs. As a legislator, it is impossible to deny him the tribute of unmixed applause; as a religionist, he rigidly adhered to the dictates of conscience, regardless of fortune or of fame; and therefore is entitled to respect and veneration from such even as may not approve his particular tenets.

This extraordinary man, one of the original bulwarks of the society called quakers, and the founder and legislator of Pensylvania, was the son of admiral sir William

:

Penn, the fortunate conqueror of Jamaica. He was born in London and was educated partly under a domestic tutor, and partly at a school at Chigwell in Essex. He appears to have had early and deep impressions of religion on his mind; and to have experienced, or fancied, divine communications, between the twelfth and fifteenth year of his age. About this period, too, it seems probable that he had been a hearer of one Thomas Loe, a quaker, who afterwards fixed him in the principles of that sect; and that the impression which he then received was never afterwards effaced from his heart. The ductile nind of youth, like the warm wax, is susceptible of any form; and first principles and prepossessions are well known to be with difficulty eradicated.

This was strongly exemplified in Penn, who in 1660 was admitted a gentleman commoner of Christ-church, Oxford; but soon withdrawing from the national worship, and performing religious exercises in private with some other students of a serious disposition, he was first fined for non-conformity, (though then but sixteen years of age,) and afterwards expelled. His father was so much incensed at this conduct, which he considered as a bar to his future preferment, that when expostulation proved ineffectual to alter his sentiments, he turned him out of doors.

Relenting, however, on mature reflection, he tried the effects of a journey to the continent; in hopes that the peculiar religious notions of the young man would yield to the attractions of company, and a more enlarged knowledge of the world. After a considerable stay in France, young Penn returned an accomplished gentleman; and was received with joy by his father, whose affection for him appears to have been ardent and sincere. It is said, that during his residence in Paris, being assaulted one evening in the streets by a person with a drawn sword, he was so well skilled in fencing that he disarmed his antagonist. This barbarous practice

however, he strongly reprobates in his writings; and, to mark its absurdity, opposes the consideration of a trifling insult, against the probable loss of life, and the crime of murder.

In the twenty-second year of his age, his father committed to his superintendence a considerable estate in Ireland. Here he accidentally found the same Thomas Loe, whose preaching had made such an early and lasting impression on his tender mind: and joining the society of quakers, who were then under persecution, he was committed to prison with some others, but soon released by the interposition of his father; who ordered him back to England, and again attempted to reclaim him, but in vain. He felt the strongest principles of duty to a fond parent; but his opinions were now so rooted, that he was absolutely inflexible to all remonstrances. quence, he was again cast on the wide world; and taking up the vocation of a public preacher among the quakers, he suffered various persecutions with a wonderful firmness and patience. The cause for which he suffered became endeared to him by every trial that he underwent; and thus opposition has sometimes made as many martyrs as conscience.

In conse

The admiral again attempted to come to an agreement with his son. He requested only that he would consent (in opposition to the strict maxim of the quakers, which they still rigidly practice) to take off his hat in the presence of the king and the duke of York. Even this external mark of respect, as it violated one of the principles which he had adopted, was refused, as inconsistent with his duty. His father at last finding his perseverance to be the effect of pure though mistaken principle, received him again into his family without any concessions; and, dying soon after, left him a plentiful fortune. Notwithstanding the opposition which he had given to his son's religious conduct, with his dying breath he adjured him

to do nothing contrary to his conscience: "So will you keep peace within," added he, "which will be a comfort in the day of trouble."

After enduring another imprisonment for attending a quaker meeting, he visited Holland and Germany; and met with a very flattering reception from the princess Elizabeth of Bohemia, daughter of James the First. His writings, his labours, and his sufferings, for some years, were various; but we now come to an epoch in his life which changed the complexion of his fortune, and gave a full display to his wisdom and his virtues.

Charles the Second, in 1681, as a compensation for services and sums due to his deceased father, conferred by patent on Mr. Penn and his heirs the province of Pennsylvania, so called from his own name. The proprietor immediately drew up an impartial account of the climate and produce, and proposed very easy terms to settlers. Considering the royal grant, however, as conferring a title but not a right, he wrote in the most affectionate terms to the Indians, explaining his peaceable intentions, and expressing his wish to hold the lands not only by the king's patent, but also by their consent and love. Commissioners were accordingly named to carry his just and benevolent views into execution; while the natives, who were unaccustomed to be treated like men, listened with pleasure to the proposals made them, conceived a high opinion of him, and entered into an amicable treaty, which was never violated.

The legal restraints under which some sects laboured in England in this period, and the persecution of others, served to people the new colony. A city to be named Philadelphia was laid out according to a judicious and regular plan, and rapidly increased. Penn himself drew up the fundamental constitution of his province, in twentyfour articles; and in the following year, the scheme of its government. Had he never written any thing else,