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Doctor was the second, and was horn in King-street, in September, 1745. His father died when he was scarcely four years old; and when the family affairs were settled, the widow found herself left in very narrow circumstances. This might have been fatal to the plan which the parents had intended to adopt for their Son-but genius will force its way. His father was one of the first adherents to the methodists, (then a new sect); and had he lived, it would have been his highest ambition, and dearest delight, to have seen his son a flaming methodistical declaimer. But herein he would probably have been disappointed; for as soon as the boy began to think, he began to doubt about their peculiar tenets, to hold religious whimsies in dislike, and to be disgusted with every thing that was enthusiastic.

As his mother's finances would not allow her to spare enough for adopting the plan which her late husband had designed for their son, by sending him to one of the English universities, she was obliged to give him only a private education. His first rudiments were received from a very judicious old woman, who taught him to read correctly, and so fitted him for his future school. At five years old, he was placed under the care of a clergyman, who was a friend of his mother; and before he reached his sixth year, he began learning Latin. With this gentleman, who was an excellent classical scholar, he continued ten or twelve years, no doubt to his great advantage. I do not recollect what he has told me of the intermediate time till 1766; but then he was classical assistant at a considerable boarding-school at Guildford, and afterwards at a grammar-school, somewhere in Kent. The natural turn of his mind, led him at this time to critical theology, and to medical studies, which might be called his hobbyhorse. He attended medical lectures in London, during the vacations. He rose early, and sat up late at his studies. He never allowed himself an idle hour. Even his walks for exercise were usually solitary, and his pockets were always stuffed with books. He was fond of sitting in Catharine-hill chapel (a fine piece of ruins near Guild ford) where he could be for hours undisturbed; and afterwards, when in Kent, he had some sequestered retirement on the bank of the Medway, to which he used to find his way through a wood, where there was no path. There he could be entirely free from ipterruption;

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and here he passed many of his leisure bours, with the books which he carried thither in his pocket.

When his clerical career commenced, I either never learned, or do not remem ber; but he was recommended to his bishop by a large and most respectable number of clergy, to whom he was well known. I recollect to have seen his papers, and among the subscribed uames, were those of Dr. Sumner, the master of Harrow; Mr. Gibson, a relative of the bishop of London; Dr. Burdett, and Dr. Hill, of Guildford; Dr. Wilson, of Deptford; and an unusual number of others. He was well known to, and much esteemed by, Dr. Secker, the archbishop; Dr. Terrick, then bishop of London; and Dr. Thomas, bishop of Winchester; with the latter, he had a considerable degree of intimacy, and spent many pleasant hours with his lordship in his study, at Chelsea.

Yet, notwithstanding all this, I think he did not continue many years in the establishment. He soon began to doubt of many things, and strongly to dislike many others. He repented his subscription to the articles, and would not, on any account, repeat it. Whether he ever undertook any stated clerical duty, while in the establishment, I know not; but I should think it likely that he did not. I recollect he was offered a grammar-school in the weald of Kent, to winch two good curacies were annexed; but the water of the place was bad, and he would not accept the offer. I know he was afterwards offered a comfortable rectory, which conscience would not allow him to accept. Seeing, or thinking he saw, great defects in the constitution and daily services of the church, he became very uneasy and dissatisfied. The more he read, the more he thought; the more his difficulties encreased. One object after another arose in his mind, till at length he was very bitterly embarrassed. He had prejudices hanging about him respecting schism, and was therefore not clear, that to secede from the church was innocent. He was unacquainted with dissenters, and thought that the great majority of them were merely ranting enthusiasts, or rigid calvinists, with very few, if any, rational men among them. His views opened but by little and little; and therefore he then thought, Dr. Priestley went too wide. I have often heard him say, at this time, that the state of his mind was severely painful. But at length, by the

reasoning

reasonings of a very intimate friend, the curate of a neighbouring parish, he was freed from his apprehension of guilt in separation; and from that time he determined on seceding. Emolument was as nothing to him, when conscience forbad, "Go, (said his liberal-minded friend,) if your conscience cannot be satisfied with us, let not your talents lie idle; go hear Kippis, Price, Farmer, Pickard. Join that body of Christians; for other dissenters will not suit you. Among them you may be useful." He went and was delighted. He sought acquaintance with these gentlemen, and an intimacy commenced with them, which lasted many years; more especially with Dr. Kippis. That gentleman's great urbanity and friendship, afforded him one of his greatest pleasures. He now decidedly renounced the establishment; and the first time he preached among the dissenters, was for Dr. Kippis, in March, 1777. He, after this, became intimately acquainted with all those London ministers who were called presbyterian, and all their pulpits were occasionally open

to him.

At this time, he kept a boarding-school in London; but about the year 1779, he removed it to Stoke Newington, and soon after to Edmonton. When there, he married a Miss Gregory, the daughter of a Russia merchant, deceased, by whom he has since had a very large family. In a few years he gave up his school to her brother, himself accepting an invitation to a congregation somewhere in the west, through the medium of Dr. Savage. But whether he found things disagreeable there I cannot say, for his stay in that part was not long. He returned to the metropolis. Here is again a break in the information I can give, as I then left England for near five years. At my return, in 1791, he was practising medicine in London, (and a most intuitive and, able physician he was.) i suppose his diploma was from Scotland, or America. How long he Continued the practice of that profession I know not; but as his own health was always tender, he could not then bear residence in town, and therefore lived at a little distance. I suppose he was never extensively known as a physician. He could not push himself into notice. He bated all little arts. And as he spent but a few hours daily in town, that circumstance was against him. Nevertheless, when he declined practice, he had acquired some comfortable property,

on which he supported his large family, with economy, for several years. The late Dr. Buchan, with whom he was very intimate, spoke to me with great respect of his medical abilities, of his abhorrence of medical cant and consequential ignorance, of his disinterested honesty; but, said he, "he loves to be too much in the shade, he is too fond of a back-ground." About this time, he had a tempting offer if he would return to the establishment, but his views were not altered, and the offer was made in vain.

At length, a most infamous and bitter persecution was commenced against him, by a set of the vilest miscreants on earth, acting in a large confederacy. This compelled him, with a broken spirit, at the age of sixty, to quit a comfortable situation, and all his connections. Nobody new to what part he retired. Some said to Holland, others to Ireland, others to Yorkshire. But I think they were all mistaken, and that he went westward; for in the spring of 1805, I saw him from my window, at Bridport; and a short time after, I saw him again at Exeter, purchasing a horse. As I judged that I might hurt his feelings, if he wished for concealment, I did not speak to him; and from that time I knew no more of him, till I read his death in the daily papers; I suppose between two and three years ago.

I greatly pitied his undeserved sufferings, for I know him to have been a very valuable and worthy man; unassuming in his disposition, bland in his manners, and strict in moral principle. As a son, a husband, a father, and a minister, he commanded esteem. His heart was truly friendly, and he was sympathy itself towards all kinds of distress; ever ready to render any kindness, or make any sacrifice, to assist or sooth the sorrowful. I could tell such instances of this kind, as are very rarely to be met with, but they would lengthen this narrative too much. Perhaps I may give them in some future letter.

He was an able, classical scholar; a good biblical critic, a very pleasing poet, and deep read from his youth in medical lore, which was his peculiar delight. But none but his immediate and very intimate friends could know all this; for he made no display of his knowledge or talents; and rather seemed to aim at concealment. I have some sweet pieces of his poetry by me, which I may some time transcribe and send you. As a preacher,

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he was clear in his instruction, and pow erfully impressive. There is a sermon against drunkenness, in a volume which he published many years ago, which is the most masterly thing of the kind that I have ever seen.

He was always candid and kind to people of every creed not believing, that any human opinions can make the smallest difference in our allotments bereafter; unless it be such as are prejudicial to morals here. He would smile at honest enthusiasm, and what he termed religious whimsy; but he was decidedly hostile to, and zealous against, all those systems of divinity which he thought represent the Creator in an unamiable light, or which lead to moral depravity.

When young, he had some peculiarities of opinion; it is probable, that as he was a thinking man, he might either drop some of them, or adopt more as he grew older. From former conversations with him, and from what I have since heard, I have reason to think, that, though he did not lightly adopt any peculiarity of sentiment, he held the following opinions:

1. That the inspiration of scripture was partial only; for that divine inspiration was not necessary to dicrate the narration of facts, or those historical books which appear to be extracts from the Jewish registers.

2. That the Mosaic account of the fall of man is probably allegorical; but if not, that in that, and the History of Creation, the facts were collected by Moses from tradition; and embellished in a way something like the machinery of poetry, by the fancy of the writer. It could not be supposed, (he would say) that God actually walked in the garden, and chose the cool of the day, as if he could be affected by heat. Many other similar matters he considered as embellishment.

3. That Adam was asleep when Eve was placed by him; and that he had dreamed she was taken out of his side.

4. that there is no proof that Abel killed his cattle for sacrifice; but that it is more probable, he only brought them on a day appointed for solen worship by his father, and presented then before the Lord, as a grateful ac: nowledgment; and, perhaps, poured out a libation of the milk or cream, which Dr. P. thought is mistranslated, fat.

5. That human sacrifices were not uncommon prior to the days of Abraham; and that having them familiar to his mind, by report, he dreamed he was commanded to sacrifice his son, which supposed command, judging the dream to be divinely impressed on his mind, he hastened to obey.

6. That the ceremonial part of the Jewish law, &c, was not given by God, but only

suited by the prudence of Moses, as a wise le gislator, to the Jewish people at that time.

7. That the story of Balaam's ass was only an impressive dream of the prophet, but perhaps under divine direction.

8. That the books which compose the sa cred volume, having been written at very difa sions, may sometimes be difficult to be under▲ fernt times, and upon very different occa stood, but that no part of scripture has a dowble or hidden meaning.

9. That the psalms were written by several persons, and on particular occasions. That the sublimest devotion, and all the beauties of fine writing, are to be found in them. But he denied them any inspiration, except it be what is called poetical inspiration. That no one of them can be found

wholly applicable to the Messiah; and that, therefore, (notwithstanding what Jews or Christians may have thought to the contrary,) no one of them is prophetical, or has any reference to Jesus Christ. The passage in Luke xxiv. 44, and in the Psalms," he thought he could prove to be an interpolation.

10. That what are called types in the Old Testament, were never intended as such ; but are only fanciful applications by the jews and Christians.

11. That the Canticles were merely lovepoems; admirable indeed for their tender beauties. That they were not written by Solomon, but by some one of his courtiers; and that they were placed in the sacred canon, by Ezra, to please the Jews, and in compliment to their favourite Solomon.

12. That the book of Jonah is probably a Jewish legend, like that of Tobit. That our Lord's notice of it, did not establish the facts in it; but only spake to the general belief, and current opinion, of the Jews. The impossibility of a man being so long in the stomach of an animal, where he could not breathe, and must have been ground to chyle, he thought an insurmountable objection. That it was miraculous, was not to be supposed; because miracles were not wrought, but for some weighty reasons, and to answer some great ends; but no such reasons or ends are apparent. If, therefore, the narrative be true, he supposed there must have been some hill near the shore, commonly called the Great Fish, perhaps from some resemblance in its form, (as the long hill between Guildford and Farnham is called the Hog's Back), and that under or in this hill was a cavern, where Jonah might be confined for the whole time mentioned. he judged the former supposition the most probable.

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13. That history affords the best comment on the writings of the prophets; for that though there are many clear predictions respecting the Messiah, given, no doubt, by the highest inspiration; yet, that many other

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passages, supposed by some to be such also, have nothing to do with that subject, but only relate to other persons and things.

14. That the book of Job is a poetical allegory, founded chiefly on some ancient facts, embellished by the machinery of poetry; and that it was written by Moses.

15. That the bodies of Adam and Eve were created mortal by nature; and that the sentence of death passed on them related to the death of the soul.

16. That the inspiration of the New Testiment is partial also. That there was no doubt a superintendancy, according to the prorise of our Lord, to bring all necessary facts, proper to be recorded, to the remembrance of the writers, but that there is no proof of any thing more.

17. That it is an injury to the Christian cause, to assert more authority than can be proved. That its internal evidence is abun dantly sufficient to prove its divine origin. That the discourses and parables of our Lord are so infinitely superior to any thing else in the world, that they prove divine wisdom to have been given to him in abundance, because he spake as never man before him spake 18. That the orthodox doctrines of the Trinity, the divinity of Jesus, original sin, the imputation of Christ's righteousness, his vicarial satisfaction, unconditional personal election and reprobation, irresistible grace, ne cessary final perseverance, and the eternity of bell torments, were not in his Bible.

19. That to suppose the Great Father of all, furious and severe, till Jesus made him propitious, is contrary to the plain declarations of the apostles, as well as to reason.

20. That there cannot be guilt in mistaken opinions; and that to suppose God will punish his creatures for these, is forming most unworthy notions of the Great and Gracious Father of all.

21. That Christianity is entirely a moral system, sanctioned by future rewards and punishments.

22. That the wicked and impenitent will hereafter be punished, according, and in proportion, to their guilt, and then will be put out of being.

23. That the second death, and the destruction, so frequently mentioned in the scripture, is the extinction of a wicked soul; and eternal life the great prize and gift of God to the righteous.

24. That the whole body which is laid into the earth is not to arise, but only the original stamina, which had been expanded by adventitious nourishment. That the matter of this Bourishment will be left behind, and that the real original body will be expanded, and made, perhaps, as subtle as light itself, and filled with a glorious splendour, if the final allotment be happiness.

25. That, notwithstanding the corrupt prac MONTHLY MAC. No. 194.

tice of multitudes of Christians, it is idolatry to worship as God any being except the Great Spirit, the Father of all. That our Lord never ordered divine worship to be paid to himself, and that he is not the right object thereof, but only the Great Universal Parent.

26. That in the present state of the Christian church, ignorant, uneducated ministers are its disgrace, and never truly useful. That a distinct order, carefully educated and separated from secular employments, is absolutely necessary for promoting the true understanding of the gospel. Nevertheless such an order is not divinely appointed, and any one who understands Christianity may teach it: any Christian may baptize another; and any number of Christians may celebrate the Lord's Supper, either with or without a clergyman.

27. That baptism of infants is absurd, because they cannot repent or believe: and that in the baptism of adults, it is immaterial in what way the water is applied, whether by immersion, pouring, or sprinkling.

I believe Dr. Pike held most, if not all, of these sentiments. He was, perhaps, a Christian sui generis; yet he certainly never embraced a novel notion without deep thought, and what appears ed to him to be substantial reasons.

Before I conclude, I must mention further, that I am in possession of some letters, and other old papers, by which it seems to me, that I know more of his family and descent than he ever appeared to know himself, as he never mentioned his ancestors beyond his great-grandfa

ther.

of Mirandula, a lordship in Italy, who John Ficus, the celebrated Earl was a very remarkable man in the fif teenth century, and whose life was partly translated from the Italian by a Thomas More, (I suppose Sir Thomas,) could trace his descent on the paternal side, from a ne phew of the Emperor Constantine. Be that as it may, he was born anno 1463, and during his youth was most remarkable for his intense application to his stu dies, and rapid acquisition of all learning. He was not entirely prudent in the government of his inclinations, for, (as my papers say) before he was twenty years old, he had a son by a young lady, to whom, it was believed, he was privately married, notwithstanding he was intended for priesthood. She died, and the marriage was never owned. Soon after, there appeared a wonderful change in his disposition and conduct. He forsook all splendour and voluptuousness, to the notions of those days. He burned and became a rigid religionist, according

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many

many amorous poems and sonnets, which he had before composed, and devoted himself, for the remainder of his life, to the study of the Scriptures and the Fathers of the Church. Having large estates he was very liberal to the poor; and three years before his death, he sold most of his estates, and gave away the produce to necessitous people, that he might free himself from every incumbrance. He reserved only enough for his own bare comfortable subsistence in his retirement. He adhered firmly to the Romish communion, and punished himself with continual penances, which were then thought meritorious. At length he died near Florence, in 1494.

I learn from my papers, that the son above-mentioned, was afterwards brought to England; and, after many changes of fortune, and much difficulty to subsist, he engaged himself with a carpenter at Marlborough, in Wiltshire, and followed that trade during the rest of his life. I believe his death is to be found in the register of that town, about the year 1565. He left several sons, one of whom followed his business.

There is such a coincidence of circumstances in this little history, and Dr. Pike's account of his family, that I cannot hut think these were his ancestors. And if so, his descent was what the world calls a great one. But he would not have set any value on this, if he had known it, for no man ever held mere aristocracy in more complete contempt than he.

I have endeavoured to do some little justice to departed merit. Perhaps I have exceeded proper bounds: I therefore hasten to conclude.

Your's, &c.
Chapter Coffee-house, Sept. 1809.

ง.

B.

For the Monthly Magazine. ACCOUNT of the DIAMOND MINES in the PROVINCE of BUNDELCUND; from MR. GLADWIN'S MISCELLANY, published at

CALCUTTA.

LAMONDS are found within the

chants from Guzerat, Surat, Joynagur, Dehly, Benares, Allahabad, Lucknow, and Furrakabad, are those who chiefly resort to Punnah for that express pur pose. They employ workmen to dig for them, at the rate of five rupees per month, over whom guards, belonging to the rajah, are stationed, in order to as certain the precise number found, and to appraise their value. One-fourth of their worth is given to the rajah, either in mo. ney or kind; the residue is left to the merchants for their own benefit. For all, however, superior in price to 30,000 rupees, the rajah gives the merchant ougfourth, and keeps the stones himself.

These gems are usually found about eighteen inches from the surface, at six feet deep, and at twenty-four feet deep, amidst a rough, coarse, honey-combed, brown stone, or gravelly substance, called khakroo, mixed with a dusky red argilla. ceous earth, like ochre, but both so hard that the miner cannot sometimes excavate a foot square during a whole day.

Where there is no khakroo, they are not to be met with; of this khakroo, when burut, is made lime. From hence it should seem, that this concretion is the matrix of their generation. When no khakroo is discovered at twenty-four feet, the miner desists from delving lower, Round their pits they leave arches, wide enough for two people to traverse. From the mines the earth is hoisted in baskets, and then rinced and sifted. When diamonds are amongst it, their crystals emit a lustre, by which they are presently discerned, and easily distinguished. Those jewels which are of a larger size, or finer thau common, the rajah (as above mentioned) reserves for his own wear, or disposes of himself to the more considerable merchants.

Diamonds are said to have been dis covered within this district not more than sixty years ago, (and like most other extraordinary discoveries) by accident. Children were casually seen playing with some rough stones, by a lapidary, who chanced to come to Punnah from Be

Dearth, round the city of Pumah, nares.

(the capital of the province of Bundelcund, distant about 130 miles to the south-westward of Allahabad,) and to the extent of twenty-four miles in the directions of east, north, and west, from the precincts of that city; it is a Hindoo territory, governed by a rajah.

Any person, foreigner or native, may search for diamonds within his dominions without let or molestation. Mer

He honestly disclosed to the rajah the nature and value of them, who caused the earth to be explored accord ingly, and they were found near the fol lowing villages, Rangpore, Mujgawan, Chowperrah, Berrejepore, Etowah, Jowhurpore, Manikpore, and Cowahko.

None are found in the vicinity of Chatterpore, a town about thirty miles northwesterly of Punnah, as has been erroneously supposed.

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