said publicly, We had the happiest king in the world, for he was sure of the Church's prayers while he lived, and had a double right to go to heaven when he died, both as he was a cuckold, and as he was the Lord's anointed.' Nor is their respect for his friends unworthy in the least the duty they bear to him. If a man of zeal for the government does but perform the least action that is remarkable and out of the way, he is sure to see the face of his betters, and meet with a reward to the full whereas a man of contrary principles may do what he will without the least danger of such a favour. As to the libraries, manuscripts, inscriptions, and such fine things as I saw there, an account of them will afford no great entertainment....I am just going to lose all my company. Mr. B. is going over into Flanders, and Mr. Chandler's son, of the Bath, [afterwards Dr. Chandler,] who has lodged with me these four months, has got a place of seventy pounds a-year, and is to leave us next week, as I would do the town if it was not chiefly for one reason. I have a very good opportunity of studying natural philosophy, and particularly anatomy, this winter, which I know not whether I shall ever meet with again, and, therefore, would willingly improve now, for it is a study of a great deal of pleasure, and may be of some use.... Pray desire Mr. Milnes to let me know what I am in his debt, for I had need consider how matters stand with me whilst I live here: and besides, I must lay out twenty or thirty pounds in books this winter. I believe the lead mines must be melted down, if they will but sell well; and then, Mrs. Milnes, your five pound comes." (Without date.) "I have, through the goodness of God, pretty well recovered myself by the using of exercise and eating little, which I continually find the best physic; for the original of all my disorder is the badness of my stomach. I wish brother would order me some money by Mr. Bowes as soon as he can conveniently how much I do not determine, because whether I have ten, fifteen, or twenty pounds, it is pretty much the same to me, only sending often is more troublesome to me, and if he has enough by him, not more convenient for him. : "Mr. Bowes [afterwards the Irish Chancellor] is fixed in the change of his religion, notwithstanding all I could do. I wish he has not forsaken us, like Demas, having loved the present world." "November, 1718. "I know not whether I have told you "I went on board at Dover last night about two o'clock: we came over against Calais by eight, but the weather being misty and dark we kept out till about two, and then landed in good health. I was very little sea-sick. We set out in the Paris coach to-morrow morning, and shall get there this day sevennight. We have been examined, on one account or another, at four several places, but treated with much civility. The town seems not much preferable to Chesterfield, either for beauty or largeness, but fortified to the sea, and carefully guarded. I observe the soldiers are not near so well clothed as ours. I hope I shall find the country cheap. Our passage in the coach will cost us but twenty-five shillings,—and we have a bottle of Champaigne before us, that would cost you perhaps seven and sixpence, and stands us but in eighteen pence. You shall hear from me as soon as I get to Paris, and if, in the mean time, you have occasion, you may direct to me thus: A Monsieur Monsieur Secker, (for in this land of ceremony one Monsieur will not serve their turn,) au Caffée de Grégoire.' I find myself able to talk French among them better than I expected, but here every body talks English." "Paris, June 13, 1719. "DEAR SISTER, "I am very much concerned at your illness, and the more so, because it hinders you from writing to me. Your complaints will always be matter of grief to me, but the hearing them from yourself will be pleasant. Let it be a short letter, let it be ill wrote, let it be as it will,but if you have any ability to write, it will always be a joy to me to receive letters from you, and I hope some advantage to you to write to me. I have not time for a long letter now, but I was not willing to let three days more pass without giving you a fresh assurance of the part I take in all your afflictions. Would to God I could do more for you, or that I was nearer to you to do what I could. Supply for me as much as you can what I ought to do, and endeavour to make yourself something more easy for my sake under all.".... [Mrs. Milnes died in the November following.] "Paris, November 6, 1719. "I shall be obliged this winter and the next year ordinary expenses, besides m which I must go through and fit myself for my business the best I can, whatever be the event. If I had had the good fortune to have lodged only two hundred pounds in the public stocks here when I came first, I might have gained by this time four or five thousand pounds, a sum which would have set me perfectly at ease all the rest of my life, But we must never blame ourselves for not doing what nobody could foresee a probability of success in. It is true, the profession of physick is a lottery too, and has, perhaps, as many blanks in it as any other but it was the only way I had to dispose of myself; and supposing the worst to happen, I shall only be obliged to lead a more private life in a more private way than I needed to have done before I entered upon this adventure." "Leyden, December 20, 1720. "DEAR BROTHER, "You will be surprized at the date of this letter; but my coming here was so very sudden, that I had no time to send you or any body word of it, nor even to see my aunt Brough, though but eight miles of. I landed but two days ago, therefore can say nothing of the country. Nor can I be certain how long I shall stay, but it will be no longer than is necessary to get a degree, which I hope may be done in two months." "London, April, 1721. "I obtained the degree and arrived here last Thursday." "Exeter College, Oxford, 1721. "When I came down here about a week ago I found your letter dated Nov. 15th, though I had given express orders that all letters should be sent up to London to me. I would not have you be positive that you guess right about my affair of importance. There are more affairs than one of importance in life. Whatever it be, it is very much at a stand at present, and yet may possibly go on again....If you write to me here, where I shall stay only a fortnight longer, it is proper not to give me my title." "London [early in 1722]. "The uncertainty I was in about putting on a gown is over; for I was ordained by the Bishop of Durham yesterday. I believe his lordship intends to take me down to his diocese next summer. If so, it shall be hard but either going or coming "St. James, Dec. 21, 1734. -hewn so friendly a concern about every thing which related to me, that I ought to make you acquainted with the honour the King hath very unexpectedly done me, of nominating me on Thursday last to the bishoprick of Bristol. Far from making application for any thing, I had not the least suspicion the day before, that I was thought of: and, indeed, the account that I was pitched upon gave me uneasiness, not pleasure. For I have already as much business in the management of this parish as I know how to go through, and the income of that bishoprick is so small, that it will not, in less than four years' time, pay the present expense of coming into it. But all my friends agree, that as it is thus providentially laid in my way, I ought to accept of it, and as it is a mark of his Majesty's regard, to accept it thankfully. This, therefore, I have accordingly resolved upon, and hope God will enable me to discharge the duties of the station I am called to. If you write to me soon, make no change on the outside of your letter, nor in the inside even. I had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Clarke last week, and hearing that our friends at Chesterfield were well. I desire my humble service to them all, and am, "Your loving brother, "THOMAS SECKER." SIR, BY way of an addendum to my paper on the doctrine of Necessity, (pp. 7-11,) I should wish briefly to state the objections which are brought against this doctrine, and briefly to reply to them. Objection. The doctrine of Necessity annihilates the distinction between virtue and vice. A benevolent deed will retain its chaAnswer. The objection is not true. racter, though the doctrine of Necessity be admitted. But if the actions of men proceeded from a self-determining power of the will, then, indeed, as they would indicate no disposition of the heart, they would have no moral quality, and the distinctions of morality would be set aside. sity subverts the foundation of praise Objection. The doctrine of Necesand blame. Answer. Then praise and blame, according to the observation just now made, can have no foundation at all. The truth is, we view moral beauty with complacency, and moral deformity with disgust; and praise and blame are the expressions of these sentiments. Hence may be explained the origin of what is termed remorse. Objection. The doctrine of Necessity, if true, renders man an unfit subject of reward and punishment. Answer. The objection is false, unless it can be shewn that, upon Necessitarian principles, reward and punishment cannot operate to the formation of virtuous affections, which, were man really constituted upon the principles of Philosophical Liberty, they certainly could not. But as the objection chiefly respects future punishment, it may be observed that, if this punishment is considered as corThe rective, the difficulty vanishes. case of the wicked, indeed, compared with that of the righteous, may seem to reflect upon the goodness of the Universal Parent, But that there should be gradations of happiness seems to be the favourite law of Providence; nor is it more incumbent upon the Necessitarian than upon any other man to vindicate this appointment. But let it be supposed that future punishment will not be corrective. Let the Libertarian reconcile this supposition to the Divine benevolence, and the same solution of the difficulty which will serve for him will do for his opponent. Objection. The doctrine of Necessity makes God the author of sin. Answer. If the moral evil which exists in the creation is conducive to good, no difficulty arises from its introduction; if it is not, when the advocate of Liberty shall have vindicated the Divine perfections, the Necessitarian may avail himself of his vindication. Objection. The doctrine of Necessity leads to moral inactivity. * Dr. Paley speaking of human punishments properly considers them as founded on utility, and observes that the retribution of so much pain for so much guilt, which we expect at the hand of God, does not obtain here. Query. Do we see any reason why pain should follow guilt if it could be of no advantage either to the sufferer or to others? The experience of life has caused guilt and suffering to be associated in our minds; but do we not deceive ourselves if we fancy that we perceive a connexion between them which, independent of all considerations of utility, rests on the abstract principle of justice? Answer. There is nothing which human folly cannot abuse. But he would deserve the palm for folly who should refuse to exert himself for the promotion of his own happiness because the series of human actions is predetermined, while experience and observation concur to convince him that what a man soweth that he also reaps. Suppose a man to be afflicted with a disorder for which he believed that a particular medicine was a certain cure. What should we think of him if he refused to apply the remedy from a persuasion that it was predetermined whether he should or should not recover? Objection. According to the doctrine of Necessity, our actions are not properly our own, and there is but one will in the universe. Answer. Our actions are in a sufficiently proper sense our own, as they are the result of human powers. With respect to the latter part of the objection, that there is but one will in the universe, this in a sense is true, and to the Christian Necessitarian a glorious truth it is. Believing in the infinite wisdom, power and goodness of the Great First Cause, he will see reason to consider all events, whether pleasurable or painful, and all actions, whether morally good or morally evil, as equally essential to the harmony of the creation, and equally conducive to the ultimate happiness of mankind. Thus, in his view, as in that of his Maker, all real evil is exterminated from the universe. Hence, if he properly reflects upon his principles, he will find in them the most powerful aids to devotion and benevolence. As I have not trespassed long on the time of your readers, I will, with your permission, detain them a few moments by turning to another subject. The other day, upon reading Plutarch's Consolatio ad Apollonium, I was led to reflect a little upon a favourite maxim of the ancient philosophers, that, in grief occasioned by afflictive bereavements, it is the part of a wise man temporis medicinam ratione præcipere. I will not bring forward quotations in evidence that such was their maxim, but will simply state to the English reader that, according to the opinion of these philosophers, it is the part of wisdom to remedy grief by reason, and not to wait for the alleviation which time would otherwise bring with it. This sentiment affords a striking, but not the only proof, that the ancients attributed to reason much more than it can justly claim. It seems also to shew that they were but little acquainted with the constitution of the human mind. A little just reflection would have taught them that the effect of time in mitigating sorrow is not to be anticipated by any act of the understanding. It is almost needless to remark that time diminishes grief, by causing new impressions to succeed to old ones, and that, by engaging the mind in interests which arise out of new occurrences, it gradually weakens the recollections by which the painful events of a former period had been succeeded. But by what effort of reason is this progressive operation of time to be superseded? Experience, indeed, sufficiently proves that no mental energy can effect, without the aid of time, what time, without the aid of reason, seldom fails to accomplish. But what topics of consolation had reason to offer which could render the lenient hand of time unnecessary to the mitigation of human sorrow? That it is wise to bear with patience what it is impossible to avoid; that whatever sufferings visit the individual, he is not the only sufferer; that if we lose our friends by death, they escape the evils which might have awaited them in a longer life, and at the worst are only as though they had never been. Such, and no better than such, were the considerations which philosophy could suggest to soothe the anguish of an afflicted heart. How inferior to the assurances of Christianity, that this mortal must put on immortality, and that suffering is a part of a wise and benevolent discipline which may assist to prepare us for everlasting happiness in the life to come! Not, indeed, that these assurances will immediately calm the agitated spirit, or produce the effect When the ancient philosophers speak of a future life in circumstances which put their faith to the proof, they generally state the hypothesis of annihilation, together with that of a future being, and in such a manner as to render it dubious which their minds inclined. for which philosophy in vain invoked the aid of reason. Time still supplies the only certain cure for the agony of poignant grief. And if affliction has a beneficial influence on the human heart, it is right that the remedy should not be instantly at our command. But while the philosophers of old demanded of reason to perform the work of time, they not only demanded what the law of nature forbids, but shewed that, while they felt grief to be an evil, they were strangers to the considerations which are best calculated to soften its severity, and had no proper conception of the present state as a scene of moral discipline. Whence, indeed, should they have had this conception, when, as Cicero expressly informs us, there was nothing on which both the learned and the unlearned differed so much as on this, whether the gods pay any regard to the concerns of men? I shall be believed when I say that I am not disposed to despise or undervalue the ancients; but truth compels me to confess that their philosophy falls lamentably below the discoveries of revelation; discoveries which he will value most who endeavours to ascertain what unassisted reason can do by carefully examining what it has done. SIR, S E. COGAN. Feb. 1820. As you have given (p. 11), one curious passage from Archbishop Tillotson's Sermons, allow me to furnish another. It relates to the probability of modern missionaries amongst infidels receiving miraculous helps. These passages and others that might be pointed out prove that Tillotson wrote his sermons currente calamo, and that he introduced into them whatever occurred to his mind at the time of writing; and this perhaps constitutes one of many causes of the interest which, after the lapse of more than a century, is still taken in his works. The opinion to which I refer is hazarded at the conclusion of a sermon "Of the Gift of Tongues," (S. cxcvii. Works, 8vo. X. 307,) and is thus ex"It is not good for men to pressed: be confident where they are not certain; but it seems to me not impossible, if the conversion of infidels to Christianity were sincerely and vigorously attempted by men of honest minds, who would make it their business to instruct those who are strangers to our religion in the pure doctrine of Christianity, free from all human mixtures and corruptions: it seems to me in this case, not at all improbable, that God would extraordinarily countenance such an attempt, by all fitting assistance, as he did the first publication of the gospel: for as the wisdom of God is not wont to do that which is superfluous, so neither is it wanting in that which is necessary. And from what hath been said upon this argument, the necessity seems to be much the same that it was at first.-I would not be mistaken in what I have said about this matter; I do not deliver it as positive, but only as probable divinity, no wise contrary to Scripture, and very agreeable to reason." The good Archbishop's "probable divinity" is certain verity at Rome; but I apprehend that it will occasion a smile every where else. The history of modern missions is not a tale of miracles, but a history of grammars and dictionaries. SIR, R. B. HE following narrative I copied tract in Sir William Musgrave's Collection, in the British Museum. It is entitled "The Experiment; or the shortest Way with the Dissenters exemplified: being the Case of Mr. Abraham Gill, à Dissenting Minister in the Isle of Ely; and a full Account of his being sent for a Soldier, by Mr. Fern, an Ecclesiastical Justice of the Peace, and other Conspirators. To the eternal Honour of the Temper and Moderation of High Church Principles. Humbly dedicated to the Queen." "4to. 1705. Though anonymous, it is well known to have been written by the celebrated Daniel De Foe, and was intended as an illustration of the work for which, a year or two before, he was sentenced to the pillory. If it suits the design of the " Repository," it is at your service. W. W. ABRAHAM GILL was born about the year 1672, at Rivington, in Lancashire. He received his education partly amongst the Dissenters, but finished it at Brazen-Nose College, Oxford, where he commenced B. A. After spending some time in the family of Lord Willoughby, of Parham, as his chaplain, he conformed to the Church of England, and was admitted to what they call " holy orders," by Nicholas, Bishop of Chester. His first preferment was to the curacy of Maney, in the Isle of Ely, about 12 miles from Wisbeach. Whilst he officiated in this place, he was well received, and beloved by his congregation; and we find no complaint against him, save that he set an ill example to the neighbouring clergy, by invading the custom of the country, and preaching twice a-day to his people. Having been two years at Maney, he received an invitation from the inhabitants of Wilney, a hamlet in the parish of Upwell, in the same county, to preach in a certain privileged chapel of the parish, of which the inhabitants had the right to choose their own minister. After long and earnest solicitations, Mr. Gill, with the consent of his former hearers, agreed to remove, and accordingly settled with his family in the parsonage or tenement belonging to the chapel at Wilney. Upon his settlement the inhabitants gave a feast, and invited their neighbours to bid him welcome. About a fortnight or three weeks after Upwell, paid him a visit of congratulation, thanked him for coming, and said he was glad the parishioners were likely to be so well served. In this chapel Mr. Gill continued about seven years, from 1695 to 1702, preaching twice a-day, and conforming in all respects to the usages of the Church of England. In process of time, however, he became dissatisfied with the Liturgy, and began to omit some parts of it, till his scruples increasing, he omitted it altogether, and confined himself to the service of the pulpit. As the chapel he preached in was a privileged place, and wholly independent of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, he conceived himself not under the like obligation to conformity as if it had been a parish church. Dr. Gregg, Rector of Upwell, hearing of his conduct, went to remonstrate with him, and threatened to put in another curate; but Mr. Gill told him that he was not, nor ever had been his curate, and that it was not in his power to dispossess him, at the same time shewing him his authority for holding |