such charitable work as was possible in a desert, it is vain to palliate his guilt by the plea, the pitiful plea, of carelessness?.

Two questions, of immediate urgency, may find a solution in academic memoirs of the seventeenth century. Would we ascertain the efficacy and value of religious tests; the sufferings of non-conformists, non-covenanters, non-engagers, nonjurors, furnish abundant matter for grave and impartial reflection. Do we ask, whether rhetoric, logic, metaphysics (to say nothing of moral philosophy and systematic

1 A long and intimate acquaintance with Mr. Carlyle's writings has, I hope, unfitted me alike for the creeping idolatry, and the fierce invective, of which he has been alternately the victim. That I regard his Cromwell as an important accession to a commonwealth library, I would gladly prove by some better offering than the only one which I have at hand, a reference to some letters printed in Dickinson's Newark, 119, 120. But, having been constrained to mention him, I cannot forbear to protest against the contumelious rudeness which he has thought fit to bring back into literature. Other students have been annoyed by the dulness, thoughtlessness, or dishonesty of their predecessors; perhaps hardly any one has ever really studied a subject without annoyance of the kind : but few, assuredly, have given vent to their annoyance in so unmannerly a strain. Only listen. “Carrion Heath,” “Mark Noble, my reverend imbecile friend,” “Peter Heylin's (lying Peter's) history,” “Bishop Hacket and the Futile Ingenuities,” "stupid Saunderson," &c. &c.

theology) may safely be banished from a great seminary of the church; we must compare the Cambridge divines bred before and after that revolution, by which the mathematical and physical sciences supplanted our statutory course. I have undertaken this series, partly in the hope of shedding light on points such as these, but mainly because, deriving from a public foundation leisure for research and access to rare or manuscript sources, I view these opportunities as imposing a strict obligation to share them, so far as may be, with less privileged students. Else I might well have hesitated to intrude into a province of literature on which I can bestow but a secondary care. As it is, I must only strive to apply sound discretion to select, and gradually widening information to illustrate, each successive volume: completeness, for the present at least, is beyond my reach.

Defective, however, as the execution of my task may be, it would have been far more so, but for assistance on all hands liberally accorded. To William Hopkinson, Esq., of Stamford, my thanks are pre-eminently due. If Gidding church now reflects the image of days which have thrown a

i See Appendix, p. 300, for a list of existing relics. A slight account of the restorations may interest those who design a pilgrimage to the spot. The little edifice (nave inside 36 ft. 9 inches X 13. 6; chancel 22.7*11.7: width of front

saintly halo around it, and if the estate once more presents a smiling contrast to the neighbouring parishes, all is owing to the impression made on his boyish sympathies some sixty years ago by a perusal of Ferrar's life. Thenceforth Gidding was to him a hallowed name, though many years elapsed before he visited the place, and more before he could call it his own. This zeal for the subject of my

17. 10) is of brick, except the stone front, which was put up in 1714, probably on the removal of the organ gallery (p. 284). Certain it is that John Ferrar's tomb, once adjoining the west door (p. 54), is now seven or eight feet from it. The inside is fitted like a college chapel, with oak pannelling (that on the right having come down from Ferrar's time) and stalls. In the right window of the nave, next the chancel arch, are king Charles's arms, with text above, Ut si quis perdicem in montibus ; and inscription below, Insignia Caroli Regis qui latitabat apud Ferrarios 2do. Maii, A. S. 1646. In the opposite window bishop Williams's arms (of Williams and Lincoln) with text, Non avarus, sed hospitalis. &c. In the left window next the door N. F.'s arms (on a bend gu. cottised ar. 3 horse shoes ar. 3 horse shoes or. Crest, an ostrich proper holding in his beak a horse shoe or. Motto, Ferre va ferme), with text, Ecce vere Israelita, cui dolus non est, &c. In the opposite window Wm. Hopkinson's arms, with text, Diligo Habitaculum Domus Tuce, and inscription Insignia Gulielmi Hopkinson, Domini Manerii de Gidding Parvâ, qui hanc Ecclesiam restauravit, et has Fenestras (sacrum munus) dicavit. A. S. 1853. The chalice and patine, given by Mr. H. on the feast of St. John the Evangelist (the patron saint), 1853, have each an appropriate inscription. The brasses from the family tombs have been fixed up in the church. N. F.'s tomb (an altar-tomb) has neither brass nor inscription.

inquiries, with his active habits, large acquaintance, unparalleled memory, and great antiquarian knowledge, rendered Mr. Hopkinson's co-operation indispensable to my success. And most freely have the trustworthy evidences of titledeeds, registers, inscriptions, pedigrees, letters, been placed at my disposal; while my own search has been profitably directed to quarters, to which, without such introduction, I might never have applied, or might have applied in vain.

To sir Thos. Phillipps, Bart., whose collection of books and MSS., both in value, and in the generosity which throws it open to the stranger, outdoes many public libraries; to the Rev. E. Atkinson of Clare Hall; the Rev. Dr. Cookson, master of Peterhouse; Mr. Hawkins of the British Museum; the Rev. D. J. Hopkins, rector of Hartford, Hunts. ; Arthur Sperling, Esq., of Lincoln's Inn; the Rev. Wm. Whall, rector of Little Gidding; the Rev. Dr. Wynter, president of St. John's College, Oxford; and of course to the Rev. J. Romilly, registrar of Cambridge University, I am indebted for admission to documents under their care, or for other like services. Some readers also, I would fain believe, will display their interest in Nicholas Ferrar, by removing

1 See in the Appendix a full account of all the authorities which I have used.

any blemishes' which may deface this monument to his fame; or by taking steps in order that the excellent family portraits“, which have descended to our time, may be made accessible in engravings not unworthy of their subjects.

i The faults in spelling are to be laid to my account. If ever height, judgment, or the like forms, are found, it is the printer's correction, or my inadvertence. The analogy of depth, breadth, &c. and great authority (e.g. Milton's) support highth. Judgement, acknowledgement, &c. were current in the days of the Ferrars (e.g. they occur in the MS. preface to one of their concordances), and still survive in the Prayer-book and in the usage of many of our best writers. Those who drop the e should also, to be consistent, write (as Burnet did) judg, colledg, &c. I blush to think, that it is necessary to defend the orthodox contemporary. When, however, not merely ephemeral writers, but scholars like Mr. Stanley and Mr. Trench, countenance the heresy, it is high time to revive Bentley's anathema : “the Examiner's cotemporary, which is a downright Barbarism. For the Latins never use co for con, except before a vowel, as coequal, coeternal; but, before a consonant, they either retain the N, as contemporary, constitution ; or melt it into another letter, as collection, comprehension. So that the Examiner's cotemporary is a word of his own coposition, for which the Learned World will cogratulate him.” Preface to Diss. p. lv. Dyce. See Salter's note on the passage.

2 Appendix, p. 295 seq.

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