could know but those that were under it. He wished that his sons had been present, that they might see what the power of death was, and what it was to die. He desired also that some neighbours of the town might be called in. that he might preach his last sermon to them. And indeed, to this very time, his spirits, speech, and memory, continued very active and strong. About four o'clock in the afternoon, his wife, and his wife's brother and sister, standing by his bedside, asked him how he did? He answered, 66 Very weak :" Adding, That he was going to Jesus Christ: Bid them not be afraid of death; with which words he put forth his hand, and said, “Brother, sister, take death by the hand: Be not afraid; death is a coward: He flies from me." They found that his hands were cold and clammy, whereby they perceived that he grew near to his end. And himself, not long after, feeling that the dissolution of this earthly tabernacle was now approaching, lifting up his eyes towards heaven, cried out, "Come, Lord Jesus!" And presently, with a smiling countenance, he added, "Art thou come?" And so he breathed out his last, on December the 29th, 1666, in the sixty-third year of his age.

Some particulars out of a letter sent by Mr. J. Weaver to the Doctor's sister, Parry, and other relations in Warwickshire, are subjoined in the note below. His second wife was this Mr. Weaver's sister.*

Dr. Winter kept his chamber but one week, his bed but one day, his disease the physicians could not well understand, not being very sick His understanding and memory he retained to the last. : On his death-bed he said he thought he knew as much of the estate of glory as another, yet he now saw that all the ministers in the world were but children in that glorious mystery. When he took his bed on the Lord's day, (from which he never rose) he desired to speak some words to those about him, being, as he said, "the words of a dying man.' In which he went on with that strength of memory, understanding, and voice, as if he had been in a pulpit, throwing his hands out of bed: He quoted many places of Scripture, the book, chapter, verse, and the express words so exactly, as made all wonder. The room was filled with tears to see such a saint in heaven while on earth. He was desired to compose himself. "No: (saith he) were I sure this would be my last night, I would preach these two hours." The next day he grew weaker in body, but stronger in spirit, being much in heavenly raptures, admiring free grace, which had prepared such a weight of glory for sinners. He wished all the town were there, that he might preach to them his last sermon, He died on Christmas eve, and was buried at South la Henham, (as he de sired) in Rutlandshire.

JOHN WILKINS,
WILKINS, D. D.

BISHOP OF CHESTER.

THIS learned and ingenious Prelate was son of Mr. Walter Wilkins, citizen and goldsmith of Oxford; and was born in the year 1614, at Fawsley, near Daventry, in Northamptonshire, in the house of the reverend and wellknown Mr. John Dod, he being his grandfather by the mother's side. He was taught his Latin and Greek by Edward Sylvester, a noted Grecian, who kept a private school in the parish of All-Saints, in Oxford: His proficiency was such, that at thirteen years of age he entered a student at New Inn, in Easter-term, 1627. He made no long stay there, but was removed to Magdalen Hall, under the tuition of Mr. John Tombes, and there he took his degree in arts. He afterwards entered into orders, and was first chaplain to William, Lord Say, and then to Charles, Count Palatine of the Rhine, and Prince Elector of the Empire, with whom he continued some time. To this last patron his skill in the mathematics was a very great recommendation. Upon the breaking out of the civil war, he joined with the parliament, and took the solemn league and covenant. He was afterwards made warden of Wadham college, by the committee of parliament appointed for reforming the university; and being created bachelor in divinity April 12, 1648, he was the day following put into possession of his wardenship. Next year he was created doctor in divinity, and about that time took the engagement then enjoined by the powers in being. It is proper in this place to say, that though he took the covenant, yet, (as Dr. Lloyd assures us in his funeral sermon) in the very height of Cromwell's power, he expressed his affection to the old constitution, and protected many by the influence he had obtained, and which he employed principally for such purposes.

In 1656, he married Robina, the widow of Peter French, formerly canon of Christ church, sister to Oliver, then Lord Protector. In 1659, he was, by Richard, the Protector, made master of Trinity college in Cambridge, the best preferment in that university. After King Charles the II.'s restoration he was ejected from thence, and became preacher to the honourable society of Gray's Inn,

and

and rector of St. Lawrence-Jury, London, in the room of Dr. Seth Ward, who was promoted to the bishopric of Exeter. About this time he became a member of the Royal Society, was chosen one of their council, and proved one of their most eminent members and chief benefactors. Soon after this, he was made Dean of Rippon, and, by the interest of the Duke of Buckingham, he was created Bishop of Chester, and consecrated in the chapel of Ely House, in Holborn, the 15th of November 1668, by Dr. Cosin, Bishop of Durham; Dr. Laney, Bishop of Ely; and Dr. Ward, Bishop of Salisbury; on which occasion Dr. Tillotson, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, who had married his daughter-in-law, preached the sermon. The friendship which subsisted between our Author and Dr. Tillotson, is a proof of their mutual moderation, as it is evident there was no small difference in their theological principles. Tillotson was thought (how justly we will not determine) to be veering towards Socinianism; whereas Wilkins was in doctrine a strict and professed Calvinist. We need quote no more to prove this, than what has been already quoted by Dr. Edwards in his Veritas Redux, p. 553. "GOD might (says Dr. Wilkins) have designed us for vessels of wrath, and then we had been all utterly undone, without all possible remedy. There was nothing to move him in us, when we lay all together in the general heap of mankind. It was his own free grace and bounty that made him to take delight in us, to chuse us from the rest, and to sever us from those many thousands in the world who shall perish everlastingly." Gift of Prayer, c. 28. In his Ecclesiastes, section 2, he commends to a preacher for his best authors, Calvin, Junius, P. Martyr, Musculus, Paræus, Piscator, Rivet, Zanchius, &c. as "most eminent for their orthodox sound judgment."-A just testimony of their inestimable worth!

He was a person of great natural endowments, and by his indefatigable study attained to an universal insight into all, or at least most parts of useful learning. He was a great mathematician, and very much advanced the study of astronomy, both while he was warden of Wadham college in Oxford, and at London, when he was a member of the Royal Society. He was as well skilled in mechanics and experimental philosophy as any man in his time, and was a great promoter of them. This is Wood's character of him in Athen. Oxon. In divinity, which was his main business, he excelled, and was a very able critic;

his talent of preaching was admirable, and more suited to profit than to please his hearers; he affected an apt and plain way of speech, and expressed his conceptions in a natural style. In his writings he was judicious and plain, and valued not circumstances so much as the substance. This appeared evident in whatever subject he undertook, which he always made easier for those that came after him. He treated sometimes on matters that did not properly belong to his profession, but always with a design to make men wiser and better; which was his chief end in promoting universal knowledge, and one of the main reasons for his entering into the Royal Society. His virtues and graces were very uncommon, at least as to that degree of them to which he attained: His prudence was very remarkable, and seldom failed him; but he was so open-hearted and sincere himself, that he was ready (except he knew some cause to the contrary) to think other men to be so too, by which he was sometimes imposed on. His greatness of mind was evident to all that knew any thing of him, nor was the depth of his judgment less discernable. He never was eager in pursuit of dignities, but was advanced to them by his worth. He contemned riches as much as others admired them; and spent his ecclesiastical revenues in the service of the church from which he received them; and being secured against want, he would often say, "That he would be no richer:" And his conduct made it evident that he was as good as his word. He was a stranger to revenge, and yet not insensible of personal injuries, especially such as reflected on his good name, if they proceeded from such as had a good reputation of their own. The reproaches of others he despised, but frequently wished he had been better understood by the former. He bore it, however, patiently, as his misfortune; never requited them with the like measure, but always mentioned them with respect, and laid hold on all opportunities to oblige and do them good. His conversation was profitable and pleasant, and his discourse was commonly of useful things, without occasioning trouble or weariness in those that conversed with him. He cultivated that most necessary (but too much neglected) part of friendship, to give seasonable reproof and wholesome advice upon occasion. This he did with a great deal of freedom, but with so much calmness and prudence, that it seldom gave offence.

He was particularly careful of the reputation of his friends, and would suffer no blot to lie upon the good

name

name or memory of any of them, if he could help it. Those of his enemies who were strangers to moderation themselves, made that virtue in which he excelled the chief subject of their reproaches, as if he had been a person of unsteady principles, and not fixed in matters of religion. This drew severe censures upon him from Archbishop Sheldon, Bishop Fell, and Archbishop Dolben, &c. without considering that he could not but have a great deal of charity for dissenters, by reason of his education under Mr. John Dod, his grandfather, a truly pious and learned man, who dissented in many things from the Church of England, long before the separation which af terwards followed upon Archbishop Laud's severities and new impositions. And as his grandfather never approved of the extremities on the other side, but continued loyal to the last, and advised others to continue in their allegiance; in like manner Dr. Wilkins, (though he had clearness when the government was dissolved, to submit to the powers then in being, by which he procured an interest and a share in the government of both universities;) was always a friend to those who were loyal, and continued well affected to the Church of England, and protected several of them by the interest he had in the then govern ment. After the Restoration be conformed himself to the Church of England, and stood up for her government and liturgy, but disliked vehemence in little and unnecessary things, and freely censured it as fanaticism on both sides. Having thus conformed to the church himself, he was very willing to bring over others, in which he was not without success, especially in his own diocese, where the extremes on both sides were as remarkable as in most parts of the nation. Being a person of extensive character himself, he was for an indulgence and a comprehension, in order to have brought our divisions in matters of religion to a conclusion, which drew upon him the hatred and obloquy of those who were for contrary measures. It is the fate of moderate men to be hated by the bigots of all parties.

His indefatigable pains in study brought a suppression of urine (not the stone) upon him, which proved incurable. He had for many days a prospect of death, which he viewed in its approaches and gradual advances upon him And a few days before his dissolution he frequently said, "That he found a sentence of death within himself." But, in the height of his pain and apprehen

*See Vol. III. p. 171.

sions