"that we would make a purse among ourselves in order to set him up again, and thereby enable him to support his family; that accor dingly we raised among seven of us, Freemasons, ten moidores, "which money I myself put into his hands."-They then asked me, "Whether I had given my own money in alms." I replied,,, that these arose from the forfeits of such Freemasons as had not behaved properly in the meetings of the Society." "What are the faults," said they," committed by your Brother Masons, which occasion their being << fined ?" "Those," said I, “ who take the name of God in vain, pay a quarter of a moidore; such as utter any other oath, or pro "nounce obscene words, forfeit a new crusade; all who are turbulent, 66 or refuse to obey the orders of the Master of the Lodge, are likewise "fined." They remanded me back to my dungeon, having first enquired the name and habitation of the several persons hinted at a little higher; on which occasion I assured them, that "the last men"tioned was not a Freemason; and that the Brethren assisted, indis"criminately, all sorts of people, provided they were real objects of

charity." They then employed all the powers of their rhetoric to prove, "That it became me to consider my imprisonment, by order of "the Holy Office, as an effect of the goodness of God; who," they added, "intended to bring me to a serious way of thinking; and, by "this means, lead me into the paths of truth, in order that I might "labour efficaciously for the salvation of my soul. That I ought to "know that Jesus Christ had said to St. Peter, Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not "prevail against it: whence it was my duty to obey the injunctions "of his Holiness, he being St. Peter's successor. "I replied with spirit and resolution, that "I did not acknowledge the Roman Pontiff

either as successor to St. Peter, or as infallible; that I relied entirely, "with regard to doctrine, on the Holy Scriptures, these being the "sole guide of our faith; I besought them to let me enjoy, undisturbed, "the privileges allowed the English in Portugal; that I was resolved to "live and die in the communion of the Church of England; and, there fore, that all the pains they might take to make a convert of me "would be in vain."

(To be continued.)

CHARACTER OF EDWARD STILLINGFLEET,
BISHOP OF WORCESTER,

HE

Who died in the Reign of WILLIAM the THIRD.

E was tall, graceful, and well proportioned; his countenance comely, fresh, and awful; in his conversation cheerful and discreet, obliging and instructive; he always observed an esteem and respect for all who conversed with him; his apprehension was quick and agacious; his judgment exact and profound; his memory very tena

1

cious; no man sooner discerning the strength of a cause, or determina ing more justly the merits of it; nor was his insight into persons less quick and true, he soon perceived their capacities and abilities, as well as their designs and interests. By these singular talents, as he presently made himself master of whatever he applied to, so he shewed it was his constant and indefatigable endeavour to make that vast knowledge and experience he had acquired, the more beneficial to the public interest both of Church and State; in which he was so successful, that it has left him a name highly venerable among all those who regard the welfare of Our excellent constitution, and wish the advancement of sound learning and true religion under it. In fine, he was a man of enlarged capacity and great natural abilities, of mighty talents, and constant improvement. Consider him then in all these respects, and it will produce this just reflec tion, that he knew every thing that was necessary or of use in his profession and station, and what he did know was just and true. He was not contented with a superficial knowledge, for in difficult cases he had too great a love for the truth to be easily satisfied; but the great reach of his understanding soon made him master of every thing he chose. He was not desirous of heaping up a vast mass of learning, and burying himself as it were in the midst of it ;-his desire of knowledge was not so much for his private satisfaction, as for the public good. He made use of no quotations and authorities, but as he well knew what others had said before him, he stated, confirmed, or refuted their opinions, with proper remarks on them, still advancing in the main point, and improving the reader; abounding in such a vast stock and variety of knowlege, never did man possess a greater command than he shewed, on all occasions, of setting forth what was most useful and fit for his purpose. Such was the accuracy of his taste and judgment, the compass of his knowledge and experience, and such his care and industry to employ them to the best advantage, that it made a considerable person, and one of his best friends say, it was a thousand pities so extraordinary a man should ever be taken from the world; thinking, no doubt, he could not wish a greater benefit to the public, than that he should last as long as that did. He was so peculiarly eminent and distinguished by his character, that no one more happily united learning and business together, nor no one better shewed that they were not inconsistent, but improved by each other; scholars of all degrees who conversed with him, or his writings, much admired him on account of his rare talents, and thought that the first science they had dipped into must be his master-piece; till forced to yield their opinion in favour of the next, and so on till they had ran through all the branches of his learning. After all these qualifications it ought not to be forgotten, how agreeable and pleasant he was in conversation, how true a judge and strict observer of decorum; how exact in his behaviour and proper in his address; these may be looked upon as trivial perfections in a man of such a genius, but, in my humble opinion, I think they are the more necessary, for they generally introduce and recommend great talents to the world, and make them more useful and successful.

He

Af

was of a robust and healthy constitution, and in all probability might have much longer enjoyed it, had he not impaired it by constant watchings and hard study, which at length brought the gout upon him, the common disease of a studious sedentary course of life. ter twenty years torment, it fixed in his stomach and proved fatal. In his last sickness he endured long and intense pain with great patience and resignation, and some few days before his end desired to receive the Sacrament, which was administered to him by his worthy Chaplain, the Rev. Doctor Goodwin, then Archdeacon of Oxford; he declared, that he died, as he had constantly lived, in communion with the Church of England; that he had sincerely endeavoured to perform his duty, and he thanked God for the satisfaction of it now, so much above what any thing else could administer to him. Thus dying with a quiet and serene mind, he humbly resigned his soul to God who gave it, and which there was just reason to expect was received into a state of most happy and joyful eternity. He left the learned world destitute of one of its greatest ornaments; the Church of a most vigilant and excellent prelate; his friends of a wise and faithful counsellor; his children of a tender and careful father, who, by his prudent advice and excellent example, constantly made it his business to promote their welfare and happiness.

IT

.

CHARACTER OF CICERO.

[FROM ROMAN CONVERSATIONS," JUST PUBLISHED.]

T seems a considerable mark not only of goodness of heart, but also of real strength of understanding, and a very proper method for improving both these qualities, if, in the consideration of any great and exalted character, the student observes indeed its defects, yet dwells not too much on them, nor views them in the most unfavourable light; but candidly considers the whole character together, and then applies his attention more peculiarly to the study of those its parts which are the most noble or beautiful.

The character of Cicero has, for many ages, drawn the attention and, generally speaking, the admiration of mankind.

In discoursing on such a character, let us be as silent as possible in relation to its imperfections; and, according to the generous scope and intention of these our Roman Conversations, endeavour to im-, prove ourselves as much as we can, by diligently studying its real excellencies.

Let us consider, that though Cicero lived in one of the most corrupt ages that ever was known, yet he was totally free from any stain either of avarice or luxurious debauchery.

As to pride, which was the third great vice of those times, Cicero certainly had nothing of that cruel Roman pride which was the occasion of much misery to Rome, and to those nations which had any

connection with her.

Cicero was not proud of any actions which were vicious in themselves, or hurtful to other persons. He was not proud of riches or power. It must be indeed acknowledged, that he was vain, very vain, of the great abilities of mind which he really possessed, and of the great services which he had really performed for his country. This vanity is one of the universally acknowledged weaknesses in Tully's character. If he had been more humble and lowly in his own sight, he certainly would have been not only a much happier, but also a much better man: for humility, as it is in itself a great virtue, so also is it the foundation of many others.

But humility was an excellence little known in the heathen world. Let us then turn our thoughts to those virtues which may, with more probability, be expected in the heathen character.

In private life (permit me on this head to refer you, my dear pupil, to the beginning of the twelfth section in Dr. Middleton's History) Cicero was a kind and generous master; he was an excellent father; he was grateful to his benefactors; and sincerely zealous to his friends, whether they were in prosperity or in adversity. His works are full of these noble sentiments, and his life full of examples of them.

Cicero loved his country, even as Octavius owned; he laboured to support its ancient constitution and liberty. He sometimes shewed great intrepidity in resisting the attempts of its enemies at other times, it must be acknowledged, he seems to have been silenced and overawed. Perhaps this might be real weakness of mind. On the other hand, perhaps it may be said, that Tully might be of opinion that he was serving his country, by suspending sometimes all useless opposition to the irresistible power of the usurpers of the national authority. He might think, that it was more patriotic, as well as more prudent, to soften them by patience and submission; and by proper management to conduct them into such a train of thoughts and actions, as might produce something considerably beneficial to the public.

But however this may be, certainly the most fair method of passing judgment on the political character of Tully, is to examine how he behaved when he himself was in power.

It is indeed at those times, that the splendor of his character shines forth in its true lustre; at those times his appearance in the history of his country discloses itself with as much dignity as attended the founder of this Roman empire, when (according to the description which you, my dear pupil, have often admired in Virgil) he discovered himself in the fullest majesty before the tribunals and senate of Carthage.

Scindit se nubes & in æthera purgat apertum

Restitit neas, clarâque in luce refulsit.

Let us consider his conduct while Governor of Cilicia; we shall find in it much patriotism, much philanthropy. He had in his youth behaved very well, while Quæstor at Syracuse; but this Asiatic government produced a very considerable addition of honour to his cha

racter.

Cicero seems to have followed, in great measure, the glorious plan of government which his master, Scævola, had observed in Asia Minor.

Cicero principally gave his attention to relieve the grievances of his province, by lightening that heavy load of debts with which the avarice of his predecessors had incumbered it; and by remedying all the other evil consequences of their bad government. The Asiatics, who had joined with the former governors in oppression and plunder of their country, were by Cicero obliged to refund whatever they had thus extorted. Cicero protected the province also from all Roman oppressors; from some in particular who were of the highest rank in Rome, and otherwise greatly connected with himself. Nor was he less diligent in averting evils rising from other causes; he alleviated the scarcity of provisions, which at that time afflicted Cilicia and Cyprus almost like a famine. He prepared with great spirit to defend the frontiers against the threatened and then most formidable invasion of the Parthians.

He permitted to the natives of his whole province, the use of their own laws. He was kind and affable at all times to all: indeed the spirit of every part of his government was, like that of every other part of his life, most mild and merciful, though at the same time very prudent and very active. Nor was he less remarkable for his noble disinterestedness. For as he supported the dignity of his office of proconsul liberally, not sumptuously, he had no temptation to fraud or rapine, He was able to refuse the immense perquisites, presents," and contributions, &c. with which his predecessors had disgraced their administration. Cicero accepted only the most just and moderate duties of his office; and even from those his lawful appointments he bestowed several thousand pounds to the relief of distressed particulars or communities in his government. At his departure he declined the acceptance of several then usual public honours: he declined also the great free gift, which was offered to him voluntarily by the province, and which is said on the whole to have amounted to upwards of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. You seem surprised, dear sir: but the generosity of Cicero in his government of Cilicia was much greater in other articles, according to two extracts which I have made from Dr. Middleton's History: the sum mentioned in the second extract is so excessive, that I should even apprehend there must be some mistake in the calculation.

All the wealthier cities of this province used to pay to all their proconsuls large contributions for being exempt from furnishing winter quarters to the army (Cyprus alone paid yearly on this single account two hundred talents, or about forty thousand pounds); but Cicero remitted this whole tax to them, which alone made a vast re

venue.

In his province of Cilicia he saved to the public a full million sterling, which all other governors had applied to their private use.