word, that was all he said; and upon a solemn assurance that it was, he replied, "Doctor, I am satisfied, and you may be assured of my favour; but look to yourself, or Hyde will be too hard for you."

After his ejectment he usually resorted to his own church, where he heard his successor, Dr. Patrick, till he was obliged to desist. After this he preached on Lord's day evenings in his own house, and on Wednesday mornings; for which Justice Ball proceeded against him. When the indulgence, given in 1670, expired, and the Dr. was apprehended, after his sermon on the Lord's day, many persons of distinction attended him; so that he met civil treatment; and, when a prisoner in the Gate-house, the keeper, though usually severe, granted him every convenience.

After his release, when the indulgence was renewed, he preached in a large room in Whitehart-yard; but there he was at length disturbed. A band of rabble came on Lord's day morning to seize him; but, having timely notice, he escaped their fury. The place was fined 401. and the minister, who preached for him, 20. When the indulgence was confirmed in 1672, the merchants set up a lecture at Pinner's Hall, which was opened by Dr. Manton.

When his health began to decline, he could not be persuaded long to desist from his delightful work of preaching; but he at length consented to spend some time with Lord Wharton at Woburn. Finding however but little benefit, he soon returned, and gave notice of his inten

At

tion to administer the Lord's supper; but did not live to perform that service. The day before he was confined to his bed, he was in his study, of which he took a solemn leave, blessing God for the many pleasant and useful hours he had spent there, and expressing his joyful hope of a state of clearer knowledge and higher enjoyments. night he prayed with his family, under great indisposition, and recommended himself to God's wise disposal; desiring that, "if he had no farther work for him to do, he would take him to himself." When he went to bed, he was seized with a lethargy, to the great loss and grief of his friends, as it deprived him of all capacity for conversing with them. He died 18th Oct. 1677, in the 57th year of his age.

He dis

Dr. Manton was a man of great learning, judgment, integrity and moderation. He had a fine collection of books: and his delight was in his study. He had carefully read the fathers and schoolmen, and well digested the commentators on Scripture. He was also well read in ancient and modern history, which rendered his conversation entertaining and instructive, coursed with young gentlemen who had travelled, so as to surprise them with his superior knowledge of things abroad. He took great pains with his sermons, and sometimes transcribed them more than once. good thought came into his mind in the night, he would light his candle, and sometimes write an hour. His delivery was natural and free, clear and eloquent, quick and powerful, and always suited to the simplicity and ma

If a

" I

jesty of divine truth. His earnestness was such, as might soften the most obdurate spirits. am not speaking," says Dr.Bates, "of one whose talent was only in voice, who laboured in the pulpit, as if the end of preaching were the exercise of the body. This man of God was inflamed with holy zeal; and spoke, as one who had within him a living faith of divine truths. The sound of words only strikes the ear, but the mind reasons with the mind, and the heart speaks to the heart." He abounded in the work of the Lord, preaching with unparalleled assiduity and frequency; yet always superior to others, and equal to himself. In the decline of life he would not leave his beloved work, the vigour of his mind supporting the weakness of his body. As a Christian, his life was answerable to his doctrine. His contempt of the world secured him from being wrought on by those motives, which tempt sordid spirits from duty. His charity was eminent in procuring supplies for others, when in mean circumstances himself. But he had great experience of God's fatherly provision, to which his filial confidence was correspondent. His conversation in his family was holy and exemplary, every day instructing them in their duty from the Scriptures. His humility was great. He was deeply affected by a sense of his frailties and unworthiness. A little before his death he said to Dr. Bates, "It is infinitely terrible to appear before God the Judge of all, without the protection of the blood of sprinkling." This alone relieved him, and supported his hopes; which was

the subject of his last public dis

course.

Dr. Harris, in the memoirs of his life, mentions the following anecdote of him. Being to preach before the Lord Mayor and court of Aldermen at St. Paul's, the Doctor chose a subject, in which he had an opportunity of displaying his judgment and learning. He was heard with admiration and applausę by the more intelligent. part of the audience. But, as he was returning from dinner with the Lord Mayor, a poor man, following him, pulled him by the sleeve of his gown, and asked him, if he were the gentleman, that preached before the Lord Mayor. He replied, he was.

London, from which he was ejected. He was a worthy, humble, eminently pious man, of sobet principles, and of great zeal and diligence. He had the whole of the New Testament and Psalms by heart. He took this pains (as he often said) not knowing but they, who took from him his pulpit, might in time demand his Bible also." Even Wood says, "He was always held in great esteem for his piety by those of his persuasion.' But his eminence and usefulness were not acknowledged by a particular party only, but by all sober persons, who were acquainted with him. He was one of the few ministers, who had the zeal and courage to continue in the city amidst all the fury of the plague in 1665; and he pursued his ministerial work in that needful, but dangerous season, with all diligence and intrepidity, both in public and private. He had been for some time employed in assisting Mr. Doolittle at Isling, ton in giving young persons an academical education; for which service he was thought well qualified. Upon the progress of the distemper in the city, he acquainted his good friend and colleague with his design to quit that employment, and to devote himself chiefly to the visitation of the sick, and the instruction of the healthy, in that time of pressing necessity. Mr. Doolittle endeavoured to dissuade him, by representing the danger he must run; told him, he thought he had no call to it, being then otherwise employed; and that it was rather advisable he should reserve himself for farther service to the rising age,

in that station, wherein he was then so usefully fixed. Mr. Vincent not being satisfied to des sist, they agreed to request the advice of their brethren in and about the city, upon the case. When Mr. Doolittle had represented his reasons at large, Mr. Vincent acquainted his brethren, that he had very seriously considered the matter, before he had come to a resolution. He had carefully examined the state of his own soul, and could look death in the face with comfort, He thought it was absolutely necessary, that such vast numbers of dying people should have some spiritual assistance. He could have no prospect of useful. ness in the exercise of his ministry, through his whole life, like that which now offered itself. He had often committed the case and himself to God in prayer, and upon the whole had solemnly devoted himself to the service of God and souls upon this occasion; and therefore hoped none of them would endeavour to weaken his hands in this work. When the ministers present had heard him out, they unanimously declared their sat, isfaction and joy; that they apprehended the matter was of God, and concurred in their prayers for his protection and success. Hereupon he went out to his work with the greatest firmness and assiduity. He constantly preached every Lord's day through the whole visitation in some parish church. His subjects were the most moving and important, and his management of them the most pathetic and searching. The awfulness of the judgment, then every where obvious, gave a peculiar

edge to the preacher and his auditors. It was a general inquiry through the preceding week, where Mr. Vincent was to preach on the Sabbath. Multitudes followed him wherever he went; and several were awakened by every sermon. He visited all, that sent for him, without fear; and did the best he could for them in their extremity; espeIcially to save their souls from death. And it pleased God to take particular care of him; for, though the whole number, reckoned to die of the plague in London this year, was 68,596, and seven persons died of it in the family, where he lived, he continued in perfect health all the time. He was afterward useful, by his unwearied labours, to a numerous congregation, till the year 1678, when he died at Hoxton.

ORTON.

LIFE OF REV. JOHN SERGEANT.

(Concluded from page 400.)

Ir has already been mentioned, that the Housatonic Indians lived on two tracts of land, several miles distant from each other. In order to remove the inconveniences occasioned by this circumstance, the General Court, at the request of Gov. Belcher, purchased of the Indians in 1736 all the land, which they owned at Shatekook, and in return granted them a township six miles square, including Wnahktukook, or the great meadow. This township is now called Stockbridge. Mr. Sergeant and Mr. Woodbridge were each made proprietors of one sixtieth part,

and four English families, carefully selected, were to be admit ed for the purpose of assisting in civilizing the Indians, and that the solitary servants of the Lord might be furnished with some cheering society.

Previously, however, to the conjunction of the two compa nies in their new town, they went into the woods for a number of weeks to make sugar from the sap of the maple; and Mr. Sergeant, unwilling they should remain so long a time without instruction, accompanied them. He prayed with them morning and evening in their own language, and preached on the sabbath.

In the day he taught the children to read, and at night the adults collected that they might learn of him to sing. While he was in the woods the snow was about a foot and a half deep. A deer-skin, spread upon somę spruce boughs, with two or three blankets, formed his bed, and water from the "running brook” was his only drink.

We here see the man of true benevolence. We behold an ob ject, which casts contempt on all earthly dignity, and eclipses the glory derived from genius, learn. ing, or conquest.

Mr. Sergeant had opportunity particularly to observe the manners of the Indians. He found them kind to one another and very hospitable. very hospitable to strangers. The women and children were bashful; the latter exhibited no kind of respect to their parents, Compliments were unknown. When a stranger visited them, he entered the hut or wigwam as though it was his own, and said nothing until something was given him to eat.