without tearing in pieces his entire reputation, if he had never so well secured his conscience. O! how seasonably did he avoid the tempest, and go to Christ.

And so have so many excellent persons since then, and especially within the space of one year, as may well make England tremble at the prognostic, that the righteous are taken as from the evil to come. And alas! what an evil is it like to be? We feel our loss: We fear the common danger. But what believer can choose but acknowledge God's mercy to them, in taking them up to the world of light, love, peace, and order, when confusion is coming upon this world, by darkness, malignity, perfidiousness and cruelty. Some think that the last conflagration shall turn this earth into hell. If so, who would not first be taken from it? And when it is so like to hell already, who would not rather be in heaven?

Though some mistook this man for a mere philosopher or humanist, that knew him not within; yet his most serious description of the sufferings of Christ, and his copious volumes to prove the truth of the scripture, christianity, our immortality, and the Deity, do prove so much reality in his faith and devotion, as makes us past doubt of the reality of his reward and glory.

When he found his belly swell, his breath and strength much abate, and his face and flesh de cay, he cheerfully received the sentence of death: and though Dr. Glisson, by mere oximel squilliticum, seemed a while to ease him, yet that also soon failed him; and he told me he was prepared contentedly and comfortably to receive his change And accordingly he left us, and went into his native country of Gloucestershire to die, as the history tells you.

Mr. Edward Stephens, being most familiar with him, told me his purpose to write his life, and desired me to draw up the mere narrative of my short familiarity with him; which I did as followeth by hearing no more of him, cast it by; but others desiring it, upon the sight of the published history of his life by Dr. Burnet, I have left it to the discretion of some of them, to do with it what they will.

And being half dead already in those dearest friends, who were half myself, am much the more willing to leave this mole-hill and prison of earth, to be with that wise and blessed society, who being united to their head in glory, do not envy, hate, or persecute each other, nor forsake God, nor shall ever be forsaken by him.

R. B. Note, That this narrative was written two years before Dr. Burnet's; and it is not to be doubted but that he had better information of his manuscripts, and some other circumstances than I. But of those manuscripts directed to me, about the soul's immortality, of which I have the originals under his hand, and also of his thoughts of the subjects mentioned by me, from 1671, till he went to die in Gloucestershire, I had the fullest notice.

ADDITIONAL NOTES

ON THE

LIFE and DEATH

OF

SIR MATTHEW HALE, KNIGHT.

To my worthy Friend Mr. Stephens, the Publisher of Judge Hale's Contemplations.

SIR,

YOU desired me to give you notice of what I

knew in my personal converse, of the great lord chief justice of England, Sir Matthew Hale. You have partly made any thing of mine unmeet for the sight of any but yourself and his private friends (to whom it is useless), by your divulging those words of his extraordinary favour to me, which will make it thought, that I am partial in his praises. And indeed that excessive esteem of his, which you have told men of, is a divulging of his imperfection, who did overvalue so unworthy a person as I know myself to be.

.

I will promise you to say nothing but the truth; and judge of it and use it as you please. My acquaintance with him was not long; and I looked on him as an excellent person studied in his own way, which I hoped I should never have occasion to make much use of; but I thought not so versed in our matters as ourselves. I was: confirmed in this conceit by the first report I had

from him, which was his wish, that Dr. Reignolds, Mr. Calamy, and I, would have taken bishopricks, when they were offered us by the lord chancellor, as from the king, in 1660, (as one did), I thought he understood not our case, or the true state of English prelacy. Many years after, when I lived at Acton, he being lord chief baron of the exchequer, suddenly took a house in the village. We sat next seats together at church many weeks, but neither did he ever speak to me, or I to him. At last my extraordinary friend (to whom I was more beholding than I must here express), serjeant Fountain, asked me why I did not visit the lord chief baron? I told him, because I had no reason for it, being a stranger to him, and had some against it, viz. that a judge, whose reputation was necessary to the ends of his office, should not be brought under court suspicion, or disgrace, by his familiarity with a person, whom the interest and diligence of some prelates had rendered so odious, as I knew myself to be with such, I durst not be so injurious to him. The serjeant answered, it is not meet for him to come first to you; I know why I speak it let me entreat you to go first to him. In obedience to which request I did it; and so we entered into neighbourly familiarity. I lived then in a small house, but it had a pleasant garden and backside, which the (honest) landlord had a desire to sell. The judge had a mind to the house; but he would not meddle with it, till he got a stranger to me, to come and inquire of me whether I was willing to leave it? I told him I was not only willing but desirous, not for my own ends, but for my landlord's sake, who must needs sell it: and so he bought it, and lived in that poor house, till his mortal sickness sent him to the place of his interment.

I will truly tell the matter and the manner you of our converse. We were oft together, and almostall our discourse was philosophical, and especially about the nature of spirits and superior regions; and the nature, operations, and immortality of man's soul. And our disposition and course of thoughts were in such things so like, that I did not much cross the bent of his conference. He studied physics, and got all new or old books of philosophy that he could meet with, as eagerly as if he had been a boy at the university. Mousnerius, and Honoratus Faber, he deservedly much esteemed; but yet took not the latter to be without some mistakes. Mathematics he studied more than I did, it being a knowledge which he much more esteemed than I did; who valued all knowledge by the greatness of the benefit, and necessity of the use; and my unskilfulness in them, I acknowledge my great defect, in which he much excelled. But we were both much addicted to know and read all the pretenders to more than ordinary in physics; the Platonists, the Peripatetics, the Epicureans, (and especially their Gassendus), Teleius, Campanella, Patricius, Lullius, White, and every sect that made us any encouraging promise. We neither of us approved of all in Aristotle; but he valued him more than I did. We both greatly disliked the principles of Cartesius and Gassendus (much more of the Bruitists, Hobbs and Spinosa); especially their doctrine de motu, and their obscuring or denying nature itself, even the principia motus, the virtutes formales, which are the causes of operations.

Whenever we were together, he was the spring of our discourse (as choosing the subject): and most of it still was of the nature of spirits, and the immortality, state, and operations of separa