cheerfulness, and findeth a singular joy in his soul. resulting from the doing thereof."

Had the same comprehensiveness been preserved by all who delighted to dwell upon the doctrine of assurance, it would not, with the system of which it forms a part, have been so misconceived of at least in the minds of many; it would not have been made such a handle of presumption. Those who are so taken up in handling the gospel as to leave no place for the law; so full of comfort as to leave no room for instruction; so given to recur to the promises as to forget or perhaps ignorantly to condemn the enforcing of the commandments, lead their followers into the worst kind of assurance, and nourish spiritual pride both in themselves and others.

Fuller speaks of some who depart in doubt, and yet of whom he saith, that there could be no doubt with respect to the sincerity of their piety. A weak faith indeed there may be, and inward joy and light may know their declensions, and the very weakness of the body may affect our spirits, and our spirits will affect our thoughts, and call up a sad company of melancholy images.

But, surely the general rule is, that godly sorrow will not be without inward peace, and peace with God cannot but at times bring joy after it, and the gifts of heavenly grace will awaken thankfulness. This is the rule. Accordingly, our author himself admirably observes in this sermon ; "All heavenly gifts as they are got by prayer, are kept, confirmed, and increased by praises."

"Presumption," he remarks, "is hot poison; it kills its thousands, makes quick riddance of men's souls to damnation. Despair, we confess, is poison, and hath killed its thousands, but the venom thereof is more curable, as more cold and faint in the operation thereof. Take heed, therefore, of presumption, lest the confidence of the assurance of thy calling betray thee to spiritual pride, that to security, that to destruction."

Such faithful preaching is but too unfashionable. Yet what but presumption is likely to ensue in those congregations which are always cloyed with cordials? What other effect is likely to attend the facile labours of those, all whose looks are smiles, and whose preaching is a perpetual canticle; who are ever wooing their congregations, thus abusing that much misquoted precedent of him who became all things to all men that he might save some; him who as sternly rebuked hypocrisy and worldly compliances, as he tenderly consoled the dejected and condescended to the weak.

CHAPTER IV.

Dr. Fuller removes to Broad-Windsor.

HE paternal kindness of Bishop Davenant was again evinced in his nephew Fuller's behalf, whom in 1634, he collated to the Rectory of

Broad Windsor, near Beaminster in the county of Dorset. The parish of Broad Windsor consisting for the most part of a rich vale of meadows and orchards, watered by small brooks and bounded by bold hills, (of which Leweston and Pillesdon are well-known,) is from five to six miles in length, and from two to three in breadth. The village is nearly at the south-east extremity.

The church is of an ancient period, probably about the beginning of the thirteenth century. It was dedicated to St. John the Baptist, and consists of a nave, aisles, chancel, and a tower with a turret at one corner. In the north aisle are two altartombs, and near them in a niche a piscina. The pulpit is very old, but its carvings disfigured by sundry coatings of paint.

Whilst at Broad Windsor, Fuller was on terms of intimacy with the family of the Drakes, descendants of the famous Sir Francis Drake. To this family belonged the manor of Childhay, until about the beginning of the reign of Charles I. Henry Drake, called in Fuller's Life of Sir Francis * his "dear and worthy parishioner," married Amy, widow of Sir Arthur Champernoun. He died in 1640, and his widow in 1645.+ Now also Fuller probably became acquainted with the Rev. Robert Gomersall, Vicar of Thorncombe, on the borders of Devon. He was a native of London, and studied at Christ Church, Oxford, of which college he was B.D. 1628. He was a poet of some note in his own times, and contributed some laudatory verses to Fuller's Holy War.

Amongst his friends also was Dr. Gilbert Ironside, Rector of Winterbourn Stapleton cum Winterbourn Abbot's, and, at the Restoration, Bishop of Bristol. His son of the same name, Warden of Wadham College, was raised by William III. to the same bishopric; also, Sir Thomas Trenchard; Hugh Wyndham, Bart. of Pilsden Court; Sir Gerard Napier; Gregory Browne, ancestor of Sir Robert

* Holy State, B. ii. p. 129, 3rd Ed.

+ Hutchins' Dorset, i. p. 608.

a baronet June 25, 1641.

Sir Gerard Napier, of Middlemarsh Hall, was created He married Margaret, daughter of John Colles or Coles, Esq. of Pitminster in Somersetshire. His estates in Dorset and Kent were sequestered in 1645. He entertained the King at More Critchell in 1665. died in 1673.

He

Browne, Bart. M.P. for Ilchester, who died 1760; and John Fitzjames,* Esq. of Leweston, four miles south of Sherborne. Sir Thomas Trenchard took part with the Parliamentarians; Sir Gerard Napier suffered greatly in the royal cause.

In 1635, Fuller revisited Cambridge to take his first degree in divinity. "Having taken care," says his anonymous biographer, "to supply his place for the time of his absence, at his setting forth he was acquainted, that four of his chief parishioners, with his good leave, were ready to wait on him to Cambridge, to testify their exceeding engagements; it being the sense and request of his whole parish. This kindness was so present and so resolutely pressed, that the Doctor with many thanks for that and other demonstrations of their love towards him, gladly accepted of their company, and with his customary innate pleasantness entertained their time to the journey's end.

"At this commencement there proceeded with him in the same degree of Bachelor of Divinity three other reverend persons, all with general applause and commendation; and therefore, to do them no wrong, I forbear to give the deceased Doctor his particular due. Only thus much by the way may be added, that this commencement cost the Doctor for his particular the sum of seven score pounds, an evidence of his liberality and

He was the son of Sir John Fitzjames, and died the year before his father, 1669, and was buried in the ante-choir of the Temple Church.

F