Bishop of Chichester. To the English reader a version of a work so interesting was certainly desirable; but every scholar will wish to consult the original in Bates Vitæ selectorum aliquot virorum, a collection which is now become rare. We beg leave, however, in passing to point out an inaccuracy in the very outset of the bishop's work, which has been copied by his translator and has escaped the observation of the present editor. Barnard Gilpin was borne at Kentmire in the county of Westmoreland, in the year of our Lord 1517, of an ancient and honourable family, being the son of Edwin Gilpin, the elder brother of which Edwin was slain in the battle of Bosworth; being heir in the fifth descent to Richard Gilpin who, in the reign of king John, was enfeoffed in the lordship of Kentmire hall, for his singular deserts both in peace and warre.' Instead of five, less than ten generations can scarcely be assigned to a period of three centuries. Of Gilpin's latest biographer, who was also his relative and namesake, we have more than once given an opinion which we know will be displeasing to those who consider investigation and accuracy as qualities of far less importance in an historian than a neat and perspicuous style; with respect, however, to Mr Gilpin's character as a man and a clergyman, we have the pleasure of being in perfect agreement with Dr. Wordsworth: His amiable biographer,' says the editor, it is well known spent a long life distinguished by purity of manners, useful learning, deeds of charity, piety and apostolical zeal in the discharge of his duties as a preacher of the Gospel. His good works in kind as well as degree, and some of the circumstances of his life, can hardly fail to call back to those who are at all acquainted with the particulars, the life of Barnard Gilpin, to whom perhaps he was very little inferior, excepting in so far, as his powers of doing good were limited by a less portion of the gifts of fortune.'

The next Life which we think intitled to distinct notice is that of Nicholas Ferrar and his family, who were first introduced to the attention of the present times by the late Dr. Peckard, master of Magdalen College, Cambridge, in the publication of an imperfect account preserved by their descendants. This work, though of far inferior merit, from the singular and interesting story which it relates, is scarcely less known than Walton's Lives; but for the republication of this memoir Dr. Wordsworth can incur no blame, nor require any apology. The additions which he has been enbled to make from a MS. in the archiepiscopal library are highly interesting, and make up almost a fourth part of the life. The Ferrars were an accomplished and elegant family, of considerable wealth, who, in the last year of James I. retired to a manor of their own at Little Gedding in Huntingdonshire, for the purposes of devotion, which they carried to the greatest extent of ascetic mor

tification. The neighbouring church, which was magnificently fitted up for the purpose, was the scene of their daily and nightly exercises; and in a great chamber of the house the Psalms of David were uniformly sung or recited by parties, who relieved each other in the course of every twenty-four hours. The remainder of their time seems to have been occupied in elegant pursuits; and particularly in the art of binding books, which they appear to have carried to a degree of perfection unrivalled even in modern times. This fraternity, whose peculiar habits had rendered them very conspicuous, in their day, were twice honoured by a visit from Charles I., once on his way to Scotland in 1631, and a second time in his deepest distress, 1646. It is needless to say that their sovereign, by whom they had been noticed in a very flattering manner, was received at Little Gedding with no less duty and af fection, at his second visit, than his first. Though actively charitable to the poor around them, as well as attentive and hospitable to those who visited them from proper motives, the Ferrars seem not to have had many friends. The Papists despised them as schismatics, the lax and lukewarm part of the Church of England hated their strictness-the Puritans exclaimed against their ceremonious superstition. Of the various obloquies to which they were exposed, these good people seem to have been too sensible: I have heard him say (these are the words of the pious but not very judicious Barnabas Oby) that to fry a faggot was not more martyrdom than continual obloquy.' This is surely carrying the matter quite far enough; but the good man must needs expand and exaggerate this sentiment: He was torn asunder as with mad horses, or crushed betwixt the upper and nether mill-stone of contrary reports that he was a Papist and a Puritan. What is, if this be not, to be sawn asunder as Esay, stoned as Jeremy, made a drum or tympanized as other Saints were? Such extravagant rant! However painful calumny may be, it is nevertheless true that hard words break no bones and the difference between literal and figurative martyrdom was probably experienced by those, who having been exercised by the former were in the end condemned to the latter, to be somewhat greater than these impatient and untried complainers would allow.

In this part of the collection we should have been gratified by a judicious abridgement of Bishop Hacket's Life of Archbishop Williams, which though full of elaborate and pedantic absurdity, insomuch that it was roundly declared by a great judge of style, to be the worst written book in our language, nevertheless abounds with new and curious matter. We should wish this task to be undertaken by some person of impartiality and discernment; for

amidst the clamours and contradictions of party, we still profess ourselves unable to decide on the character of Williams.

The account of Archbishop Tillotson struck us as meagre and unsatisfactory; that of Henry, though diffuse, is valuable, inasmuch as it shews that Puritanism may exist without sourness, and non-conformity without malignant prejudices. The life of Richard Baxter, which, though separated from the other in the arrangement of these volumes, ought to be read with it, does not lead exactly to the same conclusion: but this only proves that the most ardent pursuit of religious attainments does not extinguish constitutional differences of temper. There are some dispositions which cannot be soured by the worst religion-there are others which cannot be sweetened by the best.

ART. VII. Memoirs of the Life of Peter Daniel Huet, Bishop of Avranches, written by himself; and translated from the original Latin, with copious Notes, Biographical and Critical. By John Aikin, M. D. in 2 vols. 8vo. pp. 858. London, Longman and Co. 1810.

THE

HE original of this work is entitled 'Petri Dan. Huetii Episcopi Abrincensis Commentarius de Rebus ad eum pertinentibus.' It was composed by the author a few years before his death, and published during his life. The translator has performed his part with sufficient accuracy and industry, as far as we have observed; and conveyed the meaning of the original in smooth and easy language. The notes, which he has added, are chiefly biographical-he always endeavours to give the reader some information of those persons, whose names are incidentally mentioned, and to extend this sketch, where it is too scanty and meagre. His object in producing this work is, as he informs us, to furnish a sort of superstructure for a literary history of the age in which Huet flourished. This is in some degree answered; for, as his life was protracted to a very late period, and as he maintained an intercourse with all the literary characters of his time, there is scarcely a name of eminence on the continent, between the years 1650 and 1710, which is not mentioned. At the same time, the original memoir is so extremely dull in its general structure, conveys so many incidents which are wholly uninteresting at the present day, and is so totally destitute of that free developement of character, for which memoirs of this description are chiefly valuable, that we think the translator would have employed his time

with more advantage to his readers, and satisfaction to himself, if, instead of labouring at a translation, he had drawn up an original sketch of the literary history of that period. Not to mention, that as the memoir itself is written in sufficiently elegant Latin, which in our opinion constitutes its chief merit, it might before have been read with pleasure by every scholar.

'I have often thought,' says Dr. Johnson, that there has rarely passed a life, of which a judicious and faithful narrative might not be useful.' The observation might be made with still greater propriety of self-biography. Let any man, who has in a common degree mixed with the world, delineate a true picture of himself, unfold without reserve his motives of action, his feelings under different circumstances, together with the views, interests, and associations by which his life has been regulated; and he could not fail to produce a work, in which many would take a lively interest, and from which all might draw matter of instructive reflexion.

But, unluckily, there are no instances in which self-biography has fully answered this purpose, and very few in which it has done so in any tolerable degree. It may perhaps be said, notwithstanding all professions to the contrary, that no one ever published memoirs of himself, entirely for the benefit of others. Vanity, variously directed, mixed up with different elements, displaying itself under different forms, and aided more or less by accessory feelings, has, we shrewdly suspect, been the great moving spring in all these matters. Whatever appearances exist of frankness and sincerity, (which may to a certain extent be sometimes real,) and whatever reasons may be zealously brought forward, we are convinced that no man ever published a narrative of his own life, without having his views directed much more towards himself, than towards those, for whose sake alone he would be understood to write.

In the instance of Huet, there is not room for the slightest doubt, that a feeling of vanity and self-importance is the sole motive at work. The anxious pains which are taken to conceal it, prove the point beyond dispute. He seems conscious, that the world must think he is doing a very foolish thing; and accordingly begins and ends his memoirs with attempts at apology. He sets out with something more seriously absurd than could readily be believed. He discovers that Augustine, in his confessions, professes to review the errors of his past life for the purpose of laying them at the feet of his Creator. Accordingly, he follows so high an example, but unluckily expresses himself as if he thought the disclosure necessary for the information of the Supreme Being.

6

Although so illustrious an example long since invited me to ex

punge the stains of my former life, yet a more urgent cause has given me the final impulse, a severe and nearly fatal disease, with which I struggled for six whole months, and from which I am not entirely recovered. By this sharp, but salutary admonition, I felt myself summoned by God to scrutinize the ingrained spots of my conscience, and most humbly and submissively lay them before his sight. I therefore thought I should perform a grateful task in presenting an account of my past years to Him, the witness and judge of all my delinquencies,' &c. vol. i. p. 2.

Now the memoir before us has not the slightest claim to the title of confessions, for there is no appearance of frankness, no disclosure of secret infirmities, no acknowledgment of failings and errors—it is in fact, a mere detail of the ordinary events of his life, dressed up so as to display his importance. Accordingly, he anticipates the disbelief of the motive which he alleges, and resorts to many others, such as the solicitations of his friends, the reproaches of the world for his non-compliance with them, the desire of imparting anecdotes of those with whom he lived in intimacy, &c.—and he concludes with a list of at least an hundred eminent persons, who have also written memoirs of their own lives. If he had wished to inform us that he was writing solely to gratify his vanity, what other language could he have used?

Peter Daniel Huet was born of noble parents, at Caen, in Normandy, in 1630. Left an orphan in early life, in easy circumstances, he enjoyed all the advantages of a good education; and shewed from the first an eager thirst of various knowledge. He thought of applying himself to the law; but his attention was diverted by the desire of acquiring the Greek and Hebrew languages. He possessed a strong constitution, peculiarly adapted to the purposes of study; after sitting at his books for seven or eight hours without intermission, he always rose fresh, cheerful, and in high spirits. He finished his education, by frequenting the society of literary men at Paris. As soon as he was grown up, he accompanied Bochart on a visit to the famous Christina, Queen of Sweden, at whose court the learned men of all nations were invited to assemble. Daughter of the great Gustavus Adolphus, she displayed a character so strangely compounded of inconsistent elements, that historians have been puzzled in their attempts to analyze it. Possessing strong powers of mind, talents and acquirements far beyond her sex and age, exhibiting at times a spirit of enlightened philosophy,and a liberal love of learning,she was often fickle, whimsical and capricious, the slave of petty vanity and of doting superstition. Brought up to a throne amidst the gaudy trappings of royalty, she despised the pursuits and pleasures common to her rank, and devoted days and nights to the severity of