THE LIFE OF SIR MATTHEW HALE,

LORD Chief Justice of England

 MATTHEW HALE was born at Alderley, in Glouces­tershire, on the 1st of November, 1609. His grandfather was ROBERT HALE, an eminent clothier in Wotton-under­edge, in that county, where he and his ancestors had lived for many descents, and in which they had given several parcels of land for the use of the poor, which are enjoyed by them to this day. This ROBERT acquired an estate often thousand pounds, which he divided almost equally amongst his five sons; besides the portions he gave to his daughters, from whom a numerous posterity has sprung. His second son was ROBERT HALE, a Barrister of Lincoln's Inn; he married JOAN, the daughter of MATTHEW POYNTZ, of Alderley, Esq., who was descended from the noble family of POYNTZ, of Acton: Of this marriage, there was no other issue but this one son. His grandfather by his mother's side was his godfather, and gave him his own name at his baptism. His father was a man of that strictness of conscience, that he gave over the practice of the law, because he could not understand the reason of giving color in pleadings, which, as he thought, was to tell a lie; and this, with some other things commonly practiced, seemed to him contrary to that exactness of truth and justice which became a Christian, so that he withdrew himself front the Inns of Court, to live on his estate in the country. But as the care he had to save his soul made him abandon a profession in which he might have raised his family much higher, so his charity to his poor neighbors made him not only deal his alms largely among them while he lived, but at his death he left (out of his small estate, which was £ 100. a year) x'2O a year to the poor of Wotton; which his son confirmed to them with some addition, and with this regulation, that it should be distributed among such poor house-keepers as did not receive the alms of the parish.

 Thus he was descended rather from a good, than a noble family; and yet what was wanting in the insignificant titles of high birth and noble blood was more than made up in the true worth of his ancestors. But he was soon deprived of the happiness of his parents' care and instruction, for he lost his mother before he was three years of age, and his father died before he was five; so early was he cast on the Providence of GOD. Yet that unhappiness was in a great measure made up to him: for after some opposition made by MR. THOMAS POYNTZ, his uncle by his mother's side, he was committed to the care of ANTHONY KINGSCOT, of King­scot, Esq., who was his next kinsman, after his uncles, by his mother's side.

 Great care was taken of his education; for his guardian intended to bring him up to be a Divine, and, being inclined to the way of those then called Puritans, put him to some schools that were taught by them, and in the seventeenth year of his age sent him to Magdalen-Hall in Oxford, where OBADIAH SEDGWICK was his tutor. He was an extraordinary proficient at school, and for some time at Oxford. But the stage-players coming thither, he was so much corrupted by seeing many- plays, that he almost wholly forsook his studies.

 The corruption of a young man's mind in one particular, generally draws on very many more. So he, being now taken off from his studies, and from the gravity of his de­portment, which was formerly eminent in him far beyond his years, set himself to many of the vanities incident to youth, but still preserved a great probity. of mind. He loved fine clothes, and-delighted much in company; and being of a strong robust body, he was a great master in all those exer­cises that required much strength. He also learned to fence, in which he became so expert, that he worsted many of the masters of those arts but as he was exercising him­self in them, an instance appeared, which gave some hopes of better things. One of his masters told him he could teach him no more, for he was now better at his own trade than himself was. This MR. HALE looked on as flattery; so to make the master discover himself, he promised him the house he lived in, (for he was his tenant,) if he could hit him a blow on the head, and bade him do his best, for he would be as good as his word. So after a little engagement, his master, being really superior to him, hit, him on the head; and he performed his promise, for he; crave him the house freely, and was not unwilling at that rate to. learn to distinguish flattery from plain truth.

 He now was so taken up with martial matters, that, instead of going on in his design of being a scholar, or a Divine, he resolved to be a soldier; and his tutor SEDGWICK going into the Low Countries, as Chaplain to the renowned LORDOER a, he resolved to go along with him, and to serve in the PRINCE Of ORANGE'S army; but a happy stop was put to this resolution. He was engaged in a suit of law with SIR WILLIAM WHITMORE, who laid claim to some part of his estate; and his guardian being a man of a retired temper, and not made for business, he was forced to leave the University, after he had been three years; in. it, and go to London to solicit his own business; Sergeant GLANVALL, who had been recommended to him as his Counselor, observing in him a clear apprehension of things, and a solid judgment, and a great fitness for the study of the law took pains to persuade him to forsake his thoughts of being a soldier, and to apply himself to the study of, the law: And this had so good an effect on him, that on the 8^thof November, 1629, when he was past the twentieth year of his age, he was. admitted into Lincoln's-Inn;. and being then deeply sensible how' much time he had lost, and that idle things had over-run his mind, he resolved to redeem the time he had wasted, and followed his studies with a diligence that scarcely could be believed. He studied for many years at the rate of sixteen hours a day: he threw aside all fine clothes, and betook himself to a plain fashion, which he continued to use to his dying day.

 But since the honor of reclaiming him from idleness is due to the memory of that eminent lawyer Sergeant GLANVILL, I shall mention one passage respecting the Sergeant which ought never to be forgotten. His father had a fair estate, which he intended to settle on his elder brother; but he being a vicious young man, and there appearing no hopes of his re­covery, he settled it upon the Sergeant, who was his second son. Upon his death, his eldest son finding that what he had before looked on as the mere threatening of an angry father, was now but too certain, became melancholy; and that by degrees wrought so great a change on him, that what his father could not prevail in while he lived., was now effected by the severity of his last will. His brother, observing this, called him with many of his friends together to a feast, and after other dishes had been served up, he ordered one that was covered to be set before his brother, and desired him to uncover it; which he doing, the company was sur­prised to find it full of writings. So he told them that he was now about to do what his father would have done, if he had lived to see that happy change, which they now all saw in his brother: and therefore he freely restored to him the whole estate.

 MR. HALE did not at first break off from keeping com­pany with some evil people, till a sad accident drove him from it. He, with some other young students, being in­vited to be merry out of town, one of them called for so much wine, that, notwithstanding all MR. HALE could do to prevent it, he went on in his excess till he fell down as dead before them. All that were present were not a little affrighted, and did what they could to bring him to himself again this particularly affected MR. HALE, who went into another room, and shutting the door, fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly to GOD, both for his friend, that he might be restored to life again, and that himself might be forgiven for giving countenance to such excess; and he made a vow to God, that he would never again keep company in that manner, nor drink a health while he lived: His friend re­covered, and he most religiously observed his vow, to his dying day.

 This wrought an entire change in him. Now he forsook all vain company, and divided himself between the duties of religion, and the studies of his profession. In the former he was so regular, that for six and thirty years he never once failed going to church on the LORD's-day: this observation he made when an ague first interrupted that constant course; and he reflected on it, as an acknowledgment of GOD’s great goodness to him, in so long a continuance of his health.

 He took a strict account of his time, of which the reader will best judge, by the scheme he drew up for a Diary, which I shall insert as copied from the original: it is set down in the same simplicity in which he wrote it for his own private use.

Morning

 I. To lift up the heart to God in thankfulness for renewing my life.

 II. To renew my covenant with GOD in CHRIST 1. By renewed acts of faith receiving CHRIST, and rejoicing in the height of that relation. 2. Resolution of being one of his people, doing him allegiance.

 III. Adoration and-prayer.

 IV. Setting a watch over my own infirmities and passions, over the snares laid in our way. *

 " There must be an employment of two kinds:­ 1. Our ordinary calling, to serve GOD in it. It is a service to CHRIST, though never so mean. (Col.3:)- Here faithfulness, diligence, cheerfulness. Not to overlay my­ self with more business than I can bear.

 V. Our spiritual employments: mingle somewhat of GOD’s immediate service in this day. 1: Beware of wandering, vain, impure thoughts; fly from thyself rather than entertain these.

 VI. Let thy solitary thoughts be profitable; view the evidences of thy salvation, the state of thy soul, the coming Of CHRIST, thy own mortality.

COMPANY.

 Do good to them. Use God's name reverently. Be­ware of leaving an ill example. Receive good from them, if more knowing.

EVENING.

 Cast up the accounts of the day. If ought amiss, beg pardon. Gather resolution of more vigilance. If well, bless the mercy and grace of GOD that Math supported thee."

 Now, the Attorney-General, being then one of the greatest men of the profession, took early notice of him, called often for him, and directed him in his study, and grew to have such friendship for him, that he came to be called youngNoy. Passing from the extreme of vanity in his apparel to that of neglecting himself too much, he was once taken, when there was a press for the KING'S service, as a fit person for it; for he was a strong and well-built man: but some that knew him coming by, and giving notice who he was, the press-men let him go. This made him return to more decency in his clothes, but never to any superfluity.

 Once as he was buying some cloth for a new suit, the draper, with whom he differed about the price, told him that he should have it for nothing, if he would promise him a hundred pounds when he came to be LORD Chief Justice of England; to which he answered, that he could not with a good conscience wear any man's cloth, unless hepayedfor it; so he satisfied the draper, and carried away the cloth.

 While he was thus improving himself in the study of the Law, he not only kept the hours. of the Hall constantly in, term-time, but seldom put himself out of Commons in vaca­tion-time, and continued then to follow his studies with unwearied- diligence; and not being satisfied with the books written about it, and being unwilling to take things upon trust, he was very diligent in searching all records. He therefore made divers collections out of the books he had read, and, mixing them with his own observations, digested them into a common-place book. This he, did with so much industry and judgment, that an eminent Judge of the King's-Bench borrowed it of him when he was LORD Chief Baron: he unwillingly lent it, because it had been written key him before he was called to the Bar, and had never been thoroughly revised by him since that time; only such alter­ations as had been made in the Law by subsequent statutes and judgments, were added by him as they had happened,: the Judge having perused it- said, that though it was composed by him so early, he did not think. any Lawyer in <st1:country-region>England</st1:country-region> could do it better, except he himself would set about it again.

 He was soon found out by that great and learned Anti­quary MR. SELDEN, who, though much superior to him in years, yet came to have such an esteem for him, and for MR. VAUGHAN, who was afterwards LORD Chief Justice of the Common-Pleas, that as he continued in a close friendship with them while he lived, so he made them, at his death, two of his four Executors. It was this acquaintance which first set MR. HALE on a more enlarged pursuit of learning, which he had before confined to his own profession. He set himself much to the study of the Roman Law; and though he liked the way of judicature in England by Juries much better than that of the Civil Law, where so much-was trusted to the Judge; yet he often said, that the true grounds and reasons of law were so well delivered in the Digests, that a man could never understand law as a science so well as by seeking it there, and therefore lamented much that it was so little studied in England.

 He looked on readiness in Arithmetic as a thing which might be useful to him in his own employment, and acquired it to, such a degree, that he would often on-the sudden, and afterwards on the Bench, resolve very hard questions) which had puzzled the best accountants. He rested not here, but studied the Algebra, both Speciosa and Numerosa, and went through all the other mathematical sciences, and made a great collection of very excellent instruments, sparing no cost to have them as exact as art could make them. He was also very conversant in philosophical learning, and in all the curious experiments of this age; and had the new books, written on those subjects, sent from all parts, which he both read and examined critically. But indeed it might seem scarcely credible, that a man so much employed, and of so severe a temper of mind, could find leisure to read, observe, and write, so much of these subjects as he did. He called them his diversions, for he often said, that when he was weary with the study of the Law or Divinity, he used to recreate himself with Philo­sophy or the Mathematics; to this he added great skill in Physic, Anatomy, and Surgery: and he used to say, G1 No man could be absolutely a master in any profession, without having some skill in other sciences." Besides the satisfac­tion be had in the knowledge of these things, he made use of them often in his employments. In some examinations he has put such questions to Physicians, or Surgeons, that they have professed that theCollegeofPhysicianscould not have done it more exactly. To this he added great researches into Ancient History, and particularly into the roughest and least delightful part of it, Chronology. He was well acquainted with the writings of the ancient Greek Philosophers; but want of occasion to use it wore out his knowledge of the Greek Tongue: and though he never studied the Hebrew Tongue, yet by his frequent conversation withSELDEN, he understood the most curious things in the Rabbinical learning.

 But he made the study of Divinity the chief of all others; to which he not only directed every thing else, but also arrived at that pitch in it, that those who have read what he has written on these subjects will think, that they must have had most of his time and thoughts. It may seem incredible, that one man, in no great compass of years, should have acquired such a variety of knowledge. But as his parts were quick, and his apprehensions lively, his memory great, and his judgment strong; so his industry was indefatigable. He rose always betimes in the morning; was never idle; and scarcely ever held any discourse about news, except with some few in whom he confided entirely. He entered into no correspondence by letters, except about necessary business or matters of learning, and spent very little time in eating or drinking; for as he never went to public feasts, so he gave no entertainments but to the poor, and followed our SAVIOR's direction (of feasting none but these) literally: and in eating and drinking he observed not only great plainness and moderation, but lived so philosophically, that he always ended his meal with an appetite; so that he lost little time at it, (that being the only portion which he grudged himself,) and was disposed to any exercise of his mind, to which he thought fit to apply himself, immediately after he had dined. By these means he gained much time, that is otherwise unprofitably wasted.

 He had also an admirable equality in the temper of his mind, which disposed him for whatever studies he thought fit; and some very uneasy things, under which he lay for many years, did rather engage him to, than distract him from his studies.

When he was called to the Bar, and began to make a figure in the world, the late unhappy wars broke out, in which it was no easy thing for a man to preserve his in­tegrity, and to live free from great danger and trouble. He had read the life of *; and, having observed, that he had passed through a time of as much distraction as ever was in any age or state, free from any considerable danger, he set him as a pattern too himself: and observing, that besides those virtues which are ne­cessary to all men, and at all times, there were two things that chiefly preserved ATTICUS; the one his engaging in no faction, and meddling in no public business; the other his constantly relieving those that were lowest, which was ascribed by such as prevailed to the generosity of his temper, and procured him much kindness from those on whom he had exercised his bounty, when it came to their turn to govern; he resolved to guide himself by these rules as much as was possible.

 He not only avoided all public employment, but the very talking of news, and was always both favorable and charitable to those who were depressed, and was sure never to provoke any in particular, by censuring or reflecting on their actions; for many that have conversed much with him have said, that they never heard him once speak ill of any person.

 He was employed in his practice by all the King's party: He was assigned Counsel to the Earl of STAFFORD, and Archbishop LAUD, and afterwards to the King himself, when brought to the infamous pageantry of a mock-trial, and offered to plead for him with all the courage that so glorious a cause ought to have inspired him with; but he was not suffered to appear, because the King refusing, as he had good reason, to submit to the Court, it was pre­tended none could be admitted to speak for him. He was also Counsel for the Duke of HAMILTON, the Earl of HOLLAND, and the LORD CAFEL. Afterwards also being Counsel for the LORD CRAVEN, he pleaded with that force of argument., that the then Attorney-General threatened him for appearing against the Government; to whom he answered, " He was pleading in defence of those laws, which they declared they would maintain and preserve, and he was doing his duty to his Client, so that he was not to be daunted withthreatenings."

 Upon all these occasions he discharged himself with so much learning, fidelity, and courage, that he came to be generally employed for all that party. Nor was he satisfied to appear for their just defense in the way of his profession, but he also relieved them often in their necessities; which he did in a way that was no less prudent than charitable, considering the dangers of that time: for he often deposited considerable sums in the hands of a gentleman of the King's party, who knew their necessities well, and was to distribute his charity according to his own discretion, without either letting them know from whence it came, or giving him an account to whom he had given it. CROMWELL, seeing him possessed of so much practice, and one of the most eminent men of the law, who was not at all afraid of doing his duty in critical times, resolved to raise him to the Bench.

 MR. HALE saw well enough the snare laid for him; and though he did not much consider the prejudice it would be to himself, to exchange the easy and safe profits he had by his practice for a Judge's place in the Common-Pleas, Which he was required to accept, yet he did deliberate more on the lawfulness of taking a commission from usurpers; but having considered well this, he saw, " That it being absolutely necessary to have justice and property kept up at all times, it was no sin to take a commission from usurpers, if he made no declaration of his acknow­ledging their authority;" which he never did. He was much urged to accept of it by some eminent men of his own profession, who were of the King's party, as SIR ORLANDO BRIDGEMAN, and Sir GEOFFREY PALMER; and was also satisfied concerning the lawfulness of it, by the resolution of some famous Divines, in particular DR. SHELDON, and DR. HENCHMAN, who were afterwards promoted to the sees of Canterbury and London.

 To these were added the importunities of all his friends, who thought that, in a time of so much danger and op­pression, it might be no small security to the nation, to have a man of his integrity and abilities on the Bench. And the usurpers themselves held him in so much estima­tion, that they were glad to have him give a countenance to their Courts; and, by promoting one that was known to have different principles from them, they affected the repu­tation of honoring men of eminent virtues, of what persuasion so ever they might be, in relation to public matters.

 But he had greater scruples concerning the putting offenders to death by that commission; since he thought the sword of justice belonged only to the lawful Prince, and it seemed not warrantable to proceed to a capital sentence by an authority derived from usurpers. Yet for some time after he was made a Judge, when he went the Circuit, he did sit on the Crown side, and judged criminals: but having considered farther, he came to think that it was at least better not to do it; and so, after the second or third Circuit, he refused to sit any more on the Crown side, and told plainly the reason. And indeed he had so carried himself in some trials, that they were not unwilling that he should withdraw from meddling farther in them; of which I shall (rive some instances.

Not long after he was made a Judge, which was in the year 1653, when he went the Circuit, a trial was brought before him at Lincoln, concerning the murder of one of the townsmen, who had been of the King's party, and was killed by a soldier of the garrison there. He was in the fields with a fowling-piece on his shoulder; which the soldier seeing, came to him, and said, it was contrary to an order which the Protector had made, " That none who had been of the King's party should carry arms;" and so he would have forced it from him: but as the other did not regard the order, so, being stronger than the soldier, he threw him down, and having beat him, he left him'. The soldier went into the town, and told one of his fellow­ soldiers how he had been used, and got him to go with him, and he in wait for the man, that he might be re­venged on him. They both watched his coming to town, and one of them went to him to demand his gun; which he refusing, the soldier struck at him; and as they were struggling, the other came behind, and ran his sword into his body; of which wound he presently died. It was in the time of the Assizes; so they were both tried. Against the one there was no evidence of forethought felony, so he was only found guilty of manslaughter; but the other was found guilty of murder. And though Colonel WHALLEY, who commanded the garrison, came into Court, and urged,

that the man was killed only for disobeying the Pyotec­tog's order, and that the soldier was but doing his duty;" yet the Judge regarded both his reasons andthreateningsvery little; and therefore he not only gave sentence against him, but ordered the execution to he so suddenly done, that it might not be possible to procure a reprieve.

 Another occasion was given hint of showing both his justice and courage, when he was in another Circuit. He understood that the Protector had ordered a jury to be re­turned for a trial, in which he was more than ordinarily con­cerned. Upon this information, he examined the Sheriff about it, who knew nothing of it, for he said he referred all such things to the Under-Sheriff; and having next asked the Under-Sheriff' concerning it, he found the jury had been returned by order from CROMWELL; upon which 1:e showed the Statute, that all juries ought to be returned by the Sheriff, or his lawful officer: and this not being done according to law, he dismissed the jury, and would not try the cause. Upon this the Protector was highly displeased with him, and at his return from the Circuit, he told h m in anger, that "lie was not fit to be a Judge;" to which all the answer he made was, " that it was very true."

 When PENILUDDOCK'S trial was brought on, there was a special Messenger sent to him, requiring him to assist at it. It was in vacation-time, and he was at his country-house at Alderley. He plainly refused to go, and said, " the four terms, and two circuits, were enough, and the little interval that was between was little enough for his private affairs."Ile thought it was not necessary to speak more clearly; but if he had been urged to it, he would not have been afraid of doing it.

 He was at that time chosen a Member of Parliament, (for there being then no House of LORD’s, Judges might be chosen to sit in the House of Commons;) and he, went to. it, with a design to obstruct the wicked projects then on foot, by two parties who had very different ends. On the one hand, some designed they knew not what, being re­solved to pull down a standing Ministry, the law and property of England, and all the ancient rules of this Govern­ment, and to set up in its room a scheme, which they called the Kingdom of CHRIST, or of his Saints. Others, taking advantages from the apprehensions, which all the sober men of the nation felt, lest they should fall under the tyranny of a distracted sort of people, intended to improve that opportunity to raise their own fortunes and families. Amidst these, Judge HALE steered a middle course; for as he would engage for neither side, so he, with a great many more worthy men, came to Parliament more out of a design to hinder mischief, than to do much good; wisely foreseeing, that the inclinations for the Royal Family were daily growing so much, that, in time, the disorders then in agitation would ferment to that happy resolution, in which they determined in May, 1660. All that could be then done, was to oppose the ill designs of both parties, the enthusiasts as well as the usurpers. Among the other ex­travagant motions made in this Parliament, one was, to destroy all the Records in the Tower, and to settle the nation on a new foundation. He took this province to himself; to show the madness of this proposition, the injus­tice of it, and the mischiefs that would follow it; and did it with such clearness and strength of reason, as not only satisfied all sober persons, but stopped even the mouths of the frantic people themselves.

 Thus he continued administering justice till the Protector, died: but then he both refused the mournings that were sent to him and his servants for the funeral, and likewise to accept of the new Commission that was offered him by RICHARD; and when the rest of the Judges urged it upon him, he rejected all their importunities, and said, "he could act no longer under such authority."

 He lived a private man till the Parliament met that called home the King, to which he was returned Knight of the shire for the county of Gloucester. It appeared at that time how much he was beloved and esteemed in his neighborhood; for though another, who stood in competition with him, had spent near a thousand pounds to procure votes, (a great sum to be employed that way in those days,) and he had been at no cost, and was so far from soliciting it, that he had stood out long against those who pressed him to appear, and did not promise to appear till three days before the election, yet he was preferred. He was brought thither almost by violence, by the LORD BERK­LEY, who bore all the charge on the day of his Election, And whereas, by the writ, the Knight of a shire must be Milesgladiocinches, and he had no sword, that noble LORD girt him with his own sword during the election; but he was soon weary of it, for the embroidery of the belt did not suit the plainness of his clothes; and indeed the election did not hold long:, for as soon as ever be came into the field, he was chosen by much the greater number.

 In that Parliament, he bore his share in the happy period then put to the confusions which threatened the utter ruin of the nation; which, contrary to the expectations of the most sanguine, settled in so serene a manner, that those who had formerly built so much on their success, calling it an answer from heaven to their solemn appeals to the Providence of God, were now not a little confounded to see all this turned against themselves, in an instance much more extraordinary than any of those were, upon which they had built so much. His great prudence and excellent temper led him to think, that the sooner an act of indemnity were passed, and the fuller it were of favor, it would sooner settle the nation, and quiet the minds of the people; and therefore he applied himself with a particular care to the framing and carrying it on: in which it was visible he had no concern of his own, but merely his love of the public.

 Soon after, when the Courts in Westminister-Hall came to be settled, he was made LORD Chief Baron: au4 when the EARL of CLANENDON (then LORD Chancellor) delivered him his Commission, in the speech he made, according to the custom on such occasions, he expressed his esteem of him in a very singular manner, telling him, among other things, " that if the King could have found out anhonesterand fitter man for that employment, he would not have advanced him to it; and that he had therefore preferred him, because he knew none that deserved it so well." It is usual for persons so promoted to be knighted; but he desired to avoid that honor, and therefore for a consider­able time declined all opportunities of waiting on the King; which the LORD Chancellor observing, sent for him upon business one day, when the King was at his house, and told his Majesty there was his modest Chief Baron; upon which, he was unexpectedly knighted.

 He continued eleven years in that place, managing the Court with singular justice. It was observed by the whole nation, how much he raised the reputation and practice of it: and those that held places and offices in it can all declare, not only the impartiality of his justice, but his generosity; his vast diligence, and leis great exactness in trials. This gave occasion to the only complaint that ever was made against him; "that he did not dispatch matters quick enough;" but the great care which he used, to put suits to a final end, as it made him slower in deciding them, so it had this good effect, that causes tried before him were seldom, if ever, tried again.

 Nor did his administration of justice he only in that Court. Ile was one of the principal Judges that sat in Clifford's-Inn, about settling the difference between landlord and tenant, after the dreadful fire of London. He was the first who offered his service to the City, for ac­commodating all the differences that might have risen about the re-building of it, in which he behaved himself to the satisfaction of all persons; so that the sudden and quiet building of the City, which is justly to be reckoned one of the wonders of the age, is in no small measure due to the great care, which he and Sire ORLANDO BILIDGEMAN (then LORD Chief Justice of the Common-Pleas) used, and to the judgment they, showed in that affair. He first, by way of scheme, contrived the rules upon which he and the rest proceeded afterwards; in which his readiness at arith­metic, and his shill in architecture, were of great use to him.

 He would never receive private addresses or recommendations from the greatest persons in any matter in which jus­tice was concerned. One of the first Peers of England went once to his chamber, and told him, " that having a suit to be tried before him, he was desirous then to acquaint him with it, that he might the better understand it, when it should come to be heard in Court." Upon this the LORD Chief Baron interrupted him, and said, "he did not deal fairly in corning to his chamber about such affairs; for he never received any information of causes but in open Court; " so he would not suffer him to o on. Whereupon his Grace (for he was a Duke) went away not a little dis­satisfied, and complained of it to the King, as a rudeness that was not to be endured. But his Majesty bade him con­tent himself that he was no worse used, and said, "he verily believed he would have -used himself no better, if he had gone to solicit him in any of his own causes."

 Another passage fell out in one of his Circuits, which was somewhat censured as unreasonable strictness; but it flowed from his exact adherence to the rules which he had prescribed to himself. A gentleman, who had a trial at the assizes, sent him a buck for his table; so when he heard his name, he asked, " if he was the same person that had sent him venison;" and finding that he was the same, he told him, he could not suffer the trial to go on, till he had paid him for his buck." To this the gentleman answered, "that he never sold his venison, and that he had done nothing to him, which he did not do to every Judge that had gone that Circuit," which was confirmed by several gentlemen then present: but all would not do; he would not suffer the trial to go on, till he had paid for the present; upon which the gentleman withdrew the record. And at Salisbury, the Dean and Chapter having, according to the custom, pre­sented him with six sugar-loaves in his Circuit, he made hi$ servants pay for the sugar before he would try their cause.

 It was not so easy for him to assist the importunities, of the poor, for whom his compassion wrought more power­fully than his regard to wealth and greatness; yet when justice was concerned, even that did not turn him out of the way. There was one that had been put out of a place for some ill behavior, who urged the LORD Chief Baron to set his hand to a certificate, in order to restore him to it, or pro­vide him with another: but he told him plainly, a his fault was such, that he could not do it;?' the man pressed him vehemently, and fell down on his knees, and begged it of him with many tears; but finding that could not prevail, he said, "be should be utterly ruined if he did it not; and he should curse him for it every day." But this having no effect, he then broke out into all the reproachful words, that passion and despair could suggest: to which all the answer the LORD Chief Baron made, was, "that ire could bear his reproaches, but he could not set his hand to his certificate; " so he gave him a sum of money, and sent him away.

 But now he was to go on, after his pattern ATTICUS, still to relieve them that were lowest: so besides great charities to the Non-conformists, who were then, as he thought, too hardly used; he took great care to guard them, as far as lay in his power, from the severities which some designed against them, and discouraged those who were inclined to stretch the laws too much against them. He lamented the differences that were raised in this Church very much, and, according to the impartiality of his, justice, blamed some things on both sides, which I shall set down with the sane freedom that he spoke them. He thought many of the, Non-conformists had merited highly in the business of the King's Restoration, and at least deserved that the terms of conformity should riot have been made stricter than they were before the war. There was not then that dreadful prospect of Popery, which has appeared since. But that which afflicted him most was that he saw that the heats and contentions, which followed upon those different parties and interests, did take people off from the indispensable things of Religion, at slackened the zeal of (otherwise) good men for the substance of it, so much being spent about external and indifferent things. It also gave ad­vantages to Atheists, to treat the most sacred points- of our holy faith as ridiculous, when they saw the Professors of it contend so fiercely, and with such bitterness, about lesser matters. He was much offended at all those books that were written to expose the contrary sect to scorn and con­tempt: he thought such writers wounded the Christian Religion, through the sides of those who differed from them; while a sort of lewd people, who had assumed to themselves the title of wits, took up from both hands what they had said, to make both ridiculous, and thence persuade the world to laugh at both, and at all religion for their sakes. But as he lamented the proceedings against the Non-con­formists; so he declared himself always of the Church of England, and said that those of the separation were good men, but that they had narrow souls, who would break the peace of the Church about such inconsiderable matters.

 He scarcely ever meddled in state-affairs; yet upon a pro­position set on foot by the LORD Keeper BHIDGE1IAN, for a comprehension of the more moderate Dissenters, and a limited indulgence towards such as could not be brought within the comprehension, he dispensed with his maxim of avoiding to engage in matters of state. There were several meetings upon that occasion. The Divine of the Church of England, who appeared most for it, was Dr. WILKINS, afterwards promoted to the Bishopric of Chester, a man of as great a mind, as true a judgment, as eminent virtues, and as good a soul, as any I ever knew. He, being deter­rainedas well by his excellent temper, as by his foresight and prudence, by which he early perceived the great prej­udice which religion received by those divisions, set about that project with the magnanimity peculiar to himself; for though he was much censured by many of his own side, and seconded by very few, yet he pushed it as far as he could. After several conferences with two of the most eminent Presbyterian Divines, heads were agreed on, some abatements were to be made, and explanations were to be accepted of. The particulars of that project being thus concerted, they were brought to the LORD Chief Baron, who put them in the form of a. bill, to be presented to the next session of Parliament.

 But two parties appeared vigorously against the design; the one was composed of some zealous Clergymen, who thought it below the dignity of the Church to alter laws, and change settlements, for the sake of some whom they esteemed schismatics: and they wrought upon the greater part of the House of Commons, so that they passed a vote against receiving any bill for that effect. There were others who opposed it upon very different ends: they designed to shelter the Papists from the execu­tion of the law, and saw clearly that nothing could bring in Popery so well as a toleration. But to tolerate Popery barefaced, would have startled the nation too much; so it was necessary to hinder all propositions for union, since the keeping up of the differences was the best color they could find for getting the toleration to pass, only as a slackening of the laws against Dissenters, whose numbers and wealth made it advisable to have some regard to them; and under this pretence Popery might have crept in more covered, and less regarded. These counsels being accept­able to some concealed Papists then in power, as has since appeared too evidently, the whole project for comprehen­sion was let fall; and those who had set it on foot came to - be looked on with an evil eye, as secret favorers of the Dissenters,underminersof the Church, and every thing else which jealousy and distaste could cast on them.

 But upon this occasion, the LORD Chief Baron and DR. WILKINS came to contract a firm and familiar friendship; and the LORD Chief Baron having much business, and little time to spare, did, to enjoy the other the more, what he had scarcely ever done before,-he went sometimes to dine with him. And though he lived in great friendship with some eminent Clergymen, as DR. WARD, BISHOP of SALIS­BURY; Dr. BARTLOW, Bishop of LINCOLN; DR. BAR­TLOW, late Master of Trinity College; Dr. TILLOTSON, DEAN Of CANTERBURY; and DR. STILLING FLEET, DEAN of ST. PAUL'S; (men so well known, and so much esteemed, that it was no wonder the LORD Chief Baron valued their conversation:) yet there was an intimacy in his over with BISHOP WILKINS, that was singular to him alone. He had, during the late wars, lived in a long and entire friendship with the Apostolical Primate of Ireland, Archbishop USHER. Their curious searches into antiquity, and the sympathy of both their tempers, led them to a great agreement almost in every thing. He held also frequent conversation with MR. BAXTER, who was his neighbor at Acton, on whom he looked as a person of great devotion, and of a very quick apprehension.

 He looked with great sorrow on the impiety of the age; and so he set himself to oppose it, not only by the shining example of his own life, but by engaging in a cause that could not fall into better hands. The occasion which first led him to writer was this: he was a strict observer of the Loan's Day, in which, besides his constancy in the public worship of GOD, he used to call all his family together, and repeat to them the heads of the Sermons, with some addi­tions of his own, which he fitted for their capacities and circumstances; and that being done, he had a custom of shutting himself up for two or three hours, which he either spent in secret devotions, or on such profitable medita­tions as did then occur to his thoughts. He wrote them with the same simplicity with which he formed them in his mind, without any art, or so much as a thought of having them published: he never corrected them, but laid them aside, when he had finished them, having intended only to fix and preserve his own reflections in them; so that he used no sort of care to polish them, or make the first draught more perfect than when they fell from his pen. These fell into the hands of a very worthy person; and he judging, as well he might, that the communicating of them to the world would be a public service, printed them, a little before the author's death.

 In them there appears a true spirit of religion, mixed with serious and fervent devotion; and perhaps with the more advantage, because the style wants some correction, which shows that they were the genuine productions of an excellent mind, entertaining itself in secret with such contemplations. The style is clear and masculine, in a due temper between flatness and affectation, in which he expresses his thoughts both easily and decently.

On the 18th of May, 1671, he was promoted to be LORD Chief Justice of England. All people applauded this choice, and thought their liberties could not be better deposited than in the hands of one, who, as he understood them well, had likewise all the justice and courage which so sacred a trust required. One thing was much observed and commended in him, that when there was a great inequality in the ability and learning of the Counselors who were to plead one against another, he thought it became him as the Judge to supply that; so he would enforce what the weaker Counsel managed but indifferently, and not suffer the more learned to carry the business by the advantage they had over the others, in their quickness and skill in law, and readiness in pleading, till all things were cleared, in which the merits and strength of the ill-defended cause lay.

 Secondly,-'That though they are beneficial to others, yet they are of the least benefit to him that is employed in them.

 Thirdly,-That they necessarily involve the party, whose office it is in great dangers, difficulties, and ca­lumnies.

 Fourthly,-That they only serve for the meridian of this life, which is short and uncertain.

 Fifthly,-That though it be my duty faithfully to serve in them, while I am called to them, and till I am duly called from them, yet they are great consumers of that little time we have here, which, as it seems to me, might be better spent in a pious and contemplative life, and a due provision for eternity. I do not know a better temporal employment than MARTHA had, in testifying her love and duty to our SAVIOR, by making provision for him; yet our LORD tells her, that there was only "one thing needful," and MARY had chosen "the better part."

 By this the reader will see, that he continued in this station upon no other consideration, but that, being set in it by the Providence of God, he judged he could not abandon that post which was assigned him, without pre­ferring his own inclination to the choice which God has made for him; but now that same Providence having, by this great distemper, disengaged him from the obligation of holding a place which he was no longer able to discharge, he resolved to resign it. This was no sooner surmised abroad, than it drew upon him the importunities of all his friends, and the clamour of the whole town, to divert him from it: but all was' to no purpose; there was but one argument that could move him, which was, " that he was obliged to continue in the employment in which God had put him for the good of the public." But to this he had such an answer, that even those who were most concerned at his withdrawing could not but see, that the reasons inducing him to it were too strong; so he made application to his Majesty for his Writ of Ease, which the King was very unwilling to grant him, and offered to let him hold his place still, he doing what business he could in his chamber; but he said, that he could not with a good conscience continue in it, since he was no longer able to discharge the duty belonging to it.

 But yet such was the general satisfaction which all the kingdom received by his excellent administration of justice, that the King, though he could not well deny his request, yet deferred the granting of it as long as it was possible nor could the LORD Chancellor be prevailed with to move the King to hasten his discharge, though the Chief Justice often pressed him to it.

 At last, having wearied himself, and all his friends, with his importunate desires, and growing sensibly weaker in body, he did, upon the 12th day of February, 1675-6, go before a Master in Chancery, with a little parchment-deed drawn by himself, and written all with his own hand, and there `sealed and delivered it, and acknowledged it to be enrolled; and afterwards he brought the original deed to the LORD Chancellor, and did formally surrender his office in these words:­

 Omnibus CHRISTIfidelibusad quosprcesensscriplurapervenerit,M'ATTHEusHALE, Miles,CapitalisJusti­ciariusDominiRegis adPlacitacoramipsoRegetenendaassignatus,salutentin Dominosempiternam.NoveritismeprwfatumMATTHEUM HALE,Militem, jamsenentfactum, etvariiscorporismeisenilismorbis,elinftrmitatibusdirelaborantemetadhucdetentum,hdcchtartdmedresig­nareetsursumreddereSerenissimoDominonostroCAROLOSecundo, DEIg;vidAngliw,Scotiw,Franciw, etHiber­niceRegi,FideiDefensori, Ac.,predictunto.ficiumCapi­talisJusticiariiadPlacitacoramipsoRegetenenda,humillimepetensquad hocscriplumirrotaleturderecordo. Incujusreitestimoniumhuiccharts; mewresignationissigillummeumapposui.

 He had the day before surrendered to the King in person, who parted from him with great grace, wishing him most heartily the return of his health; and assuring him, that he would still look upon him as one of his Judges, and have recourse to his advice when his health would permit, and in the mean time would continue his pension during his life."

 The good man thought this bounty too great, and an ill precedent; and therefore wrote a letter to the LORD Treasurer, earnestly desiring that his pension might be only during pleasure; but the King would grant it for life, and make it payable quarterly. And yet for a whole month together, he would not suffer his servant to sue out his patent for his pension; and when the first payment was received, he ordered a great part of it to be devoted to charitable uses, and said, he intended that most of it should be so employed as long as it was paid to him.

 As soon as he was discharged from his great place, he returned home with as much cheerfulness as his want of health would admit of, being now eased of a burden he had been of late groaning under.

 Having now attained to that privacy which he had no less seriously than piously wished for, he called all his servants that had belonged to his office together, and told them that he had now laid down his place, and so their employments were at an end: upon that he advised them to seek for themselves, and gave to some of them very con­siderable presents, and to every one of them a token, and so dismissed all those that were not his domestics. He was discharged the 15th of February, 1675-6, and lived till the Christmas following; but all the while was in so ill a state of health, that there was no hope of his recovery. He continued still to retire often, both for his devotions and studies; and, as long as he could, went constantly to his closet; and when his infirmities increased on him, so that he was not able to go thither himself, he made his servants carry him thither in. a chair. At last, as the winter came on, he saw, with great joy, his deliverance approaching; for, besides his being weary of the world, and his longings for the blessedness of another state, his pains increased on him so much, that no patience inferior to his could have borne them without great uneasiness of mind; yet he ex­pressed to last such submission to the Will of GOD, and so equal a temper under them, that it was visible then what mighty effects his Christianity had on him, in supporting him under such a heavy load. He could not he down in bed above a year before his death, by reason of the asthma; but sat, rather than lay in it.

 He was attended in his sickness by a pious and worthy Divine, MR. EVAN GRIFFITH, Minister of the parish; and it was observed, that, in all the extremities of his pain, whenever he prayed by him, he forbore all complaints or groans, but, with his hands and eyes lifted up, was fixed in his devotions. Not long before his death, the Minister told him, that the Sacrament was to be given on the following Sunday at church; and as he believed he could not come and partake with the rest, he would therefore give it to him in his own house: but he answered, " No; his heavenly Father had prepared a feast for him, and he would go to his Father's house to partake of it." So he made himself be carried thither in his chair, where he re­ceived the Sacrament on his knees, with great devotion; which it may be supposed was the greater, because he apprehended it was to be his last. He had some secret and unaccountable presages of his death; for he said, that if he did not die on such a day, (the 25th of November,) he believed he should live a month longer, and he died that very day month. He continued to enjoy the free use of his reason to the last moment, which he had often and earnestly prayed for during his sickness: and when his voice was so sunk, that he could not be heard, they perceived, by the almost constant lifting up of his eyes and hands, that he was still aspiring towards that blessed state, of which he was now speedily to be possessed.

 Christmas-day, which he had often spent in spiritual joy, proved the day of his deliverance; for between two and three in the afternoon, he breathed out his pious soul. His end was peace; he had no struggling, nor seemed to be in any pangs in his last moments. He was buried on the 4th of January, MR. GRIFFITH preaching the funeral

Sermon; his text was, (Isa.lvii. 1,) " The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart: and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come."

 He was interred in the church-yard of Alderley, among his ancestors. He did not much approve of burying in churches, and used to say, " The churches were for the living, and the church-yard for the dead." His monument was like himself, decent and plain; the tomb-stone was black marble, and the sides were black and white marble, upon which he himself had ordered this bare and humble inscription to be made:­ *.

 He had a soul enlarged and raised above the mean appetite of loving money. He did not take the profits that he might have had by his practice; for in common cases, when those who came to ask his counsel gave him a pound, he used to give back the half, and so made ten shillings his fee in ordinary matters, that did not require much time and study. If he saw a cause was unjust, he would meddle no further in it, than to give his advice that it was so: if the parties, after that, would go on, they were to seek another Counselor; he would assist none in acts of injustice.

 He pleaded with the same sincerity that he used in the other parts of his life, and was accustomed to say, "It was the greatest dishonor of which a man was capable, that for a little money he was to be hired to say or do otherwise than he thought."

 When he was a Practitioner, differences were often re­ferred to him, which he settled, but would accept of no reward for his pains, though offered by both parties together, after the agreement was made; for he said, "In those cases he was made a Judge, and a Judge ought to take no money." If they told him, "He lost much of his time in considering their business, and so ought to be acknowledged for it; " his answer was, " Can I spend my time better, than to make people Friends? Must I have no time allowed me to do good in?"

 He was naturally of a quick temper; yet by much practice on himself, he subdued that to such a degree, that he would never run suddenly into any conclusion concerning any matter of importance. Festinalente was his beloved motto, which he ordered to be engraven on the head of his staff; and was often heard to say, "that he had observed many witty men run into great errors, because they did not give themselves time to think; but the heat of imagination making some notions appear in good colors to them, they, without staying till that cooled, were violently led by the impulses it made on them; whereas calm and slow men, who pass for dull in the common estimation, could search after truth, and find it out, as with more deliberation, so with greater certainty."

 He laid aside for the poor the tenth penny of all he got, and took great care to be well informed of proper objects for his charities; and after he was a Judge, many of the per­quisites of his place, as his dividend of the rule and box­ money, were sent by him to the goals, to discharge poor prisoners, who never knew from whose hands their relief came. It is also a custom for the Marshal of the King's Bench to present the Judges of that Court with a piece of plate for a new-year's gift, that for the Chief Justice being larger than the rest: this he intended to have refused, but the other Judges told him it belonged to his office, and the refusing it would be a prejudice to his successors; so he was persuaded to take it: but he sent word to the Marshal, ~~ that instead of plate, he should bring him the value of it in money;" and when he received it, he immediately sent it to the prisons, for the relief and discharge of the poor there.

 He usually invited his poor neighbors to dine with him, and made them sit at table with himself; and if any of them were sick, so that they could not come, he would send meat warm to them from his table: nor did he relieve only the poor in his own parish, but sent supplies to the neighboring parishes, as there was occasion for it; and he treated them with all the tenderness and familiarity that became one, who considered that they were of the same nature with himself, and were reduced to no other necessities but such as he himself might be brought to. But for common beggars, if any of these came to him, as he was in his walks, when he lived in the country, he would ask such as were capable of working, " Why they went about so idly'," If they answered, "It was because they could find no work," he often sent them to some field, to gather all the stones in it, and lay them on a heap, and then would pay them liberally for their pains: this being done, be used to send his carts, and caused them to be carried to such places of the highway as needed mending.

 But when he was in town, he dealt his charities very liberally, even among the street-beggars; and when some told him, " That he thereby encouraged idleness, and that most of those were notorious cheats," he used to answer, "-That he believed most of them were such; but among them were some that were great objects of charity, and pressed with grievous necessities; and that he had rather give his alms to twenty, who might perhaps be rogues, than that one of the other sort should perish for want of that small relief which he gave them."

 Another instance of his justice and goodness was, that when he found bad money had been put into his hands, he would never suffer it to be vented again; for he thought it was no excuse for him to put false money into other people's hands, because some had put it into his. A great heap of this he had gathered together: for many had so far abused his goodness, as to mix base money among the fees that were given him. It is probable that he intended to have destroyed it; but some thieves, who had observed it, broke into-his chamber and stole it, thinking they had got a prize; which he used to tell with some pleasure, imagining how they found themselves deceived, when they perceived what sort of booty they had fallen on.

 After he was made a Judge, he would needs pay more for every purchase he made than it was worth if it bad been but a horse he was to buy, he would have out-bid the price. And when some represented to him, that he made ill bargains, he said, a It became Judges to pay more for what they bought, than the true value; that so those with whom they dealt might not think they had any right to their favor, by having sold such things to them at an easy rate."

 Having thus mastered things without him, his next study was to overcome his own inclinations. He was, as he said himself, naturally passionate; I add " as he said himself," for it appeared by no other evidence, save that sometimes his colour would rise a little; but he so governed himself, that those who lived long about him have told me they never saw him disordered with anger, though he met with some trials which the nature of man is as little able to bear as any whatsoever. There was one who did him a great injury, which it is not necessary to mention, and who afterwards came to him for his advice in the settlement of his estate he gave it very frankly to him, but would accept of no fee for it; and thereby showed both that he could forgive as a Christian, and that he had the soul of a gentleman in him, not to take money of one that had wronged him so heinously. And when he was asked by one, how he could use a man so kindly, who had wronged him so much, his answer was, "He thanked GOD he had learned to forget injuries." And besides the great temper he expressed in all his public employments, in his family he was a very gentle master: he was tender of all his servants; he never turned any away, except they were so faulty, that there was no hope of re­claiming them: when any of them had been a long time out of the way, or neglected any part of their duty, be would not see them at their first coming home, and some­times not till the next day, lest he might have chidden them indecently; and when he did reprove them, he did it with that sweetness and gravity, that it appeared he was more concerned for their having done a fault; than for the offence given by it to himself.

 He advanced his servants according to the time they had been about him, and would never give occasion to envy amongst them, by raising the younger clerks above those who had been longer with him. He treated them all with great affection, rather as a friend, than a master. When he made his will, he left legacies to every one of them; but he expressed a more particular kindness for one of them, ROBERT GIBBON, of the Middle-Temple, Esq., in whom he had such confidence, that he left him one of his Executors.

 The Judge was of a most tender and compassionate na­ture: this did eminently appear in his trying and giving sentence upon criminals, in which he was strictly careful that not a circumstance should be neglected, which might in any way clear the fact. He behaved himself with that regard to the prisoners, which became both the gravity of a Judge, and the pity that was due to men whose lives lay at stake.

 He also examined the witnesses in the softest manner, taking care that they should be put under no confusion, which might disorder their memory: and he summed up all the evidence so equally, when he charged the Jury, that the criminals themselves never complained of him. When it came to him to give sentence, he did it with that com­posedness and decency,-and his speeches to the prisoners, directing them to prepare for death, were so weighty, so serious and devout,-that many loved to go to the trials, when he sat as Judge, to be edified by his speeches and behavior in them, and used to say; "they heard very few such sermons."

 His mercifulness extended even to his beasts; for when the horses which he had kept long grew old, he would not suffer them to be sold, or much worked, but ordered his men to turn them loose on his grounds, and put them only to easy work, such as going to market, and the like. He used old dogs also with the same care: his shepherd having one that was become blind with age, he intended to have killed him; but the Judge coming to hear of it, made one of his servants bring him home, and fed him till he died: and he was scarcely ever seen more angry than with one of his servants for neglecting a bird that he kept, which died for want of food.

 He was a great encourager of all young persons, whom he saw following their books diligently; to whom he used to give directions concerning the method of their study, with a humanity and sweetness which wrought much on all that came near him: and in a smiling, pleasant way, he would admonish them, if he saw any thing amiss in them.

 He was very free and communicative in his discourse, which he most commonly fixed on some good and useful subject; and loved, for an hour or two at night, to be visited by some of his friends. He neither said nor did any thing with affectation, but used a simplicity, which was both natural to himself, and very easy to others: and though he never studied the modes of civility or court-breeding, yet he knew not what it was to be rude or harsh with any, except he were impertinently addressed in matters of justice; then he would raise his voice a little, and so shake off those importunities.

 In his furniture, and the service of his table, and in his way of living, he liked the old plainness so well, that, as he would set up none of the new fashions, so he rather affected a coarseness in the use of the old ones. He was always of an equal temper, rather cheerful than merry. Many wondered to see the evenness of his deportment, in some very sad passages of his life.

 Having lost one of his sons, the manner of whose death had some grievous circumstances in it, and one of his friends coming to see and condole with him on the occasion, he said, "Those were the effects of living long; such must look to see many sad and unacceptable things: “ and having said that, he went to other discourses with his ordinary freedom of mind; for though he had a temper so tender, that sad things were apt to make deep impressions upon him, yet the regard which he had to the Providence of God, and the just estimate which he made of external things, did to admiration maintain the tranquility of his mind, and gave no occasion to melancholy to corrupt his spirit. He had also a deep sense of GOD on his mind, and this did above all other considerations preserve his quiet. And indeed that was so well established, that no accidents, how sudden so ever, were observed to discompose him.

 In the year 1666, an opinion did run through the nation, that the end of the world would come that year. This had spread mightily among the people; and Judge HALE going that year the Western Circuit, it happened that, as he was on the Bench at the Assizes, a most terrible storm fell out very unexpectedly, accompanied with dreadful flashes of lightning, and claps of thunder, upon which a whisper or a rumor ran through the crowd, that now was the world to end, and the day of judgment to begin; and at this there followed a general consternation in the whole assembly, and all men forgot the business they were met about, and betook themselves to their prayers: this adding to the horror raised by the storm, looked very dismal; insomuch that my author, a man of no ordinary resolution, confessed it made an impression on himself. But he told me, " that he did observe the Judge was not a whit affected, and was going on with the business of the Court in his ordinary manner."

 He looked upon Equity as a part of the Common Law, and one of the grounds of it; and therefore, as near as he could, he did always reduce it to certain rules and prin­ciples, that men might study it as a science, and not think the administration of it had any thing arbitrary in it. Thus eminent was this man in every station; and into what Court so ever he was called, he quickly made it appear, that he deserved the chief seat there.

 As great a Lawyer as he was, he would never suffer the strictness of law to prevail against conscience; as great a Chancellor as he was, he would make use of all the niceties and subtilties in law, when it tended to support right and equity. But nothing was more admirable in him than his patience: He did not affect the reputation of quickness and dispatch, by a hasty and captious hearing of the Counsel He would bear with the meanest, and gave every man his full scope, thinking it much better to lose time than patience. In summing up an evidence to a Jury, he would always require the Bar to interrupt him if he did mistake, and to put him in mind of it, if he did forget the least circumstance. Some Judges have been disturbed at this as a rudeness, which he always looked upon as a service and respect done to him.

 Having thus far pursued his history and character, in the public and exemplary parts of his life, without interrupting the thread of the relation with what was private and domestic, I shall conclude with a short account of these.

 He was twice married: his first wife was AN NE, daughter to Sin HENRY MOOR, of Faly, in Berkshire, grandchild to Sip. FRANCIS MOOR,Serjeantat Law: by her he had ten children; the first four died young, the other six lived to be all married; and he outlived them all, except his eldest daughter, and his youngest son.

 His second wife was ANNE, the daughter of MR. JOSHUA BISNOR, of Faly, in Berkshire, by whom he had no children. He gives her a great character in his Will, as a most dutiful, faithful, and loving wife; and therefore trusted the bringing up of his grandchildren to her care, and appointed her his joint-executrix, to whom he added SIR ROBERT JENNIN­SON, and MR. GIBBON.