" did not only give his consent (without which the "thing could not have been done) but wasveryfor"ward for the doing of it, though hereby he did " not only confiderably lessen his own profit, but "likewife incur no small censure and hazard as the " times then were. And left this had not been kind" ness enough to that worthy person, whose place " he poffefied, in his last will, he left his fon, Sir "John Collins, a legacy of one hundred pounds. " And as he was not wanting either in respect or " real kindness to the rightful owner; so neither " did he stoop to do any thing unworthy, to obtain "that place, for he never took the covenant. And "not only fo, but, by the particular friendship and "interest which he had in fome of the chief vifi 66 tors, he prevailed to have the greatest part of the " fellows of that college exempted from that im"pofition, and preferved them in their places by "that means. And to the fellows that were ejeс"ted by the visitors, he likewise freely confented, " that their full dividend for that year should be " paid them; even after they were ejected. Among "these was the reverend and ingenious Dr. Charles "Mafon, upon whom, after he was ejected, the col" lege did confer a good living which then fell in " their gift, with the consent of the provost, who " knowing him to be a worthy man, was contented " to run the hazard of the displeasure of those times. "So that I hope none will be hard upon him, that " he was contented upon such terms to be in a ca"pacity to do good in bad times." Befides his care of the college, he had a very great and good influence upon the university in general. Every Sunday in the afternoon, for almost twenty years together, he preached in Trinity Church, where he had a great snumber, not only of the young scholars, but of those of greater standing and best repute for learning in the the university, his constant and attentive auditors; and in those wild and unsettled times contributed more to the forming of the students of that univerfity to a fober sense of religion, than any man in that age. In 1658 he wrote a copy of Latin verses upon the death of Oliver Cromwell. It is printed in mufarum Cantabrigienfium luctus & gratulatio: ille in funere Oliveri Angliæ Scotia & Hibernicæ protectoris; hæc de Richardi successione feliciffimâ ad eundem. Cambridge, 1658, in 4to. Dr. Whichcote's verses are as follow. "Non male mutati mores & lenior ætas ; et Qua : Quæque Deum fapiunt scit pectora flettere lente. After he left Cambridge, he came to London, and was chofen minister of Black Friars, where he continued till the fire of London in 1665, and thenreti. red to a donative which he had at Milton near Cambridge, where he preached constantly, and relieved the poor, and had their children taught to read at his own charge, and made up differences among the neighbours. Here he staid till the promotion of Dr. John Wilkins to the bishoprick of Chefter in 1668, when he was by his interest and recommendation, presented to the rectory of St. Laurence Jewry. But during the building of that church, upon invitation of the court of Aldermen, in the mayorality of Sir William Turner, he preached before that honourable auditory at Guild-hall Chapel every Sunday in the afternoon with great acceptance and approbation, for about the space of seven years. When his church was built, he bestowed his pains there twice a week, where he had the general love and respect of his parish, and a very confiderable and judicious auditory, though not very numerous, by reason of the weakness of his voice in his declining age. A little before Easter in the year 1683, he went down to Cambridge, whereupon taking a great cold, he fell into a distemper, which in a few days put a period to his life. He died with uncommon fentiments of piety and devotion. He expreffed great diflike of the principles of feparation, and faid, that he was the more defirous to receive the facrament, that he might declare his full communion with the church of Chrift all the world over. He disclaimed popery, and as things of near affinity with it, or rather parts of it, all fuperftition and ufur 1 He died ufurpation upon the consciences of men. plary piety and devotion towards God, of which his "whole life was one continued teftimony. Nor will " I praise his profound learning, for which he was 66 justly had in so great reputation. The moral im"provements of his mind, a godlike temper and dif" position, (as he was wont to call it) he chiefly va"lued and aspired after; that universal charity and " goodness, which he did continually preach and 66 practise. His conversation was exceeding kind and "affable, grave and winning, prudent and profita"ble. He was flow to declare his judgment and mo"dest in delivering it. Never paffionate, never pe remptory: fo far from impofing upon others that " he was rather apt to yield. And though he had a " most profound and well poised judgment, yet he " was of all men I ever knew, the most patient to "hear others differ from him, and the most easy to " be convinced when good reason was offered ; " and which is seldom seen, more apt to be favour"able to another man's reason than his own. Studi" ous and inquisitive men commonly at such an age " (at forty or fifty at the utmost) have fixed and " settled their judgments in most points, and as it " were, made their last understanding; supposing " that they have thought, or read, or heard, what "can be faid on all fides of things, and after that they grow positive, and impatient of contradiction, " thinking it a disparagement to them to alter their " judgment. But our deceased friend was fo wife, " as to be willing to learn to the last, knowing that " no " no man can grow wiser without some change of " his mind, without gaining some knowledge which « he had not, or correcting fome error, which he " had before. He had attained fo perfect a maste ry of his paffions, that for the latter and greatest " part of his life he was hardly ever seen to be " transported with anger, and as he was extremely " careful not to provoke any man, so not to be pro"voked by any; using to fay, if I provoke a man, " he is the worse for my company; and if I fuffer " myself to be provoked by him I fhall be the worfe " for his. He very seldom reproved any person in " company otherwise than by filence or fome fign " of uneafiness, or fome very foft and gentle word; " which yet from the respect men generally bore " to him, did often prove effectuak. For he under-" stood human nature very well, and how to apply " himself to it in the most easy and effectual ways. "He was a great encourager and kind director of young divines, and one of the most candid hear"ers of fermons, I think, that ever was; fo that " though all men did mightily reverence his judg ment, yet no man had reafon to fear his censure. " He never spake well of himself, nor ill of others, " making good that saying of Panfa in Tully, Ne"minem alterius, qui fuæ confideret virtuti, invidere; " that no man is apt to envy the worth and vir"tues of another, that hath any of his own to truft "to. In a word, he had all those virtues, and in a " high degree, which an excellent temper, great "condefcenfion, long care and watchfulness over "himself, together with the assistance of God's grace (which he continually implored and migh" tily relied upon) are apt to produce. Particular" ly he excelled in the virtues of conversation, hu" manity and gentleness, and humility, a prudent " and peaceable, and reconciling temper. As he " had |