of living, was but was but a small fortune. In the share that fell to him by Mr. Selden's will, one memorable thing was done by him, with the other executors, by which they both shewed their regard to their dead friend, and their love of the public. His library was valued at some thousands of pounds, and was believed to be one of the most curious collections in Europe: so they resolved to keep this intire, for the honour of Selden's memory, and gave it to the University of Oxford, where a noble room was added to the former library for its reception, and all due respects have been since shewed by that great and learned body, to those their worthy benefactors, who not only parted so generously with this great treasure, but were a little put to it how to oblige them, without crossing the will of their dead friend. Mr. Selden had once intended to give his library to that university, and had left it so by his will; but having occasion for a manuscript, which belonged to their library, they asked of him a bond of a thousand pound for its restitution; this he took so ill at their hands, that he struck out that part of his will by which he had given them his library, and with some passion declared "they should never have it." The executors stuck at this a little, but having considered better of it, came to this resolution; that they were to be the executors of Mr. Selden's will, and not of his passion; so they made good what he had intended in cold blood, and passed over what his passion had suggested to him.

The parting with so many excellent books, would have been as uneasy to our judge, as any thing of that nature could be, if a pious regard to his friend's memory had not prevailed over him; for he valued books and manuscripts above all things in the world. He himself had made a great and

rare

rare collection of manuscripts belonging to the law of England; he was forty years in gathering it: he himself said it cost him about fifteen hundred pounds, and calls it in his will," a treasure worth having and keeping, and not fit for every man's view." These all he left to Lincoln's-Inn, and for the information of those who are curious to search into such things; there shall be a catalogue of them added at the end of this book.

By all these instances it does appear, how much he was raised above the world, or the love of it. But having thus mastered things without him, his next study was to overcome his own inclinations. He was, as he said himself, naturally passionate; I add as he said himself, for that appeared by no other evidence, save that sometimes his colour would rise a little; but he so governed himself, that those who lived long about him, have told me they never saw him disordered with anger, though he met with some trials, that the nature of man is as little able to bear, as any whatsoever. There was one who did him a great injury, which it is not necessary to mention, who coming afterwards to him for his advice in the settlement of his estate, he gave it very frankly to him, but would accept of no fee for it, and thereby shewed both that he could forgive as a christian, and that he had the soul of a gentleman in him, not to take money of one that had wronged him so heinously. And when he was asked by one, "how he could use a man so kindly, that had wronged him so much;" his answer was, "he thanked God he had learned to forget injuries." And besides the great temper he expressed in all his public employments, in his family he was a very gentle master. He was tender of all his servants: he never turned any away, except they were so faulty, that there was no hope

of

of reclaiming them. When any of them had been long out of the way, or had neglected any part of their duty, he would not see them at their first coming home, and sometimes not till the next day, lest when his displeasure was quick upon him, he might have chid them indecently; and when he did reprove them, he did it with that sweetness and gravity, that it appeared he was more concerned for their having done a fault, than for the offence given by it to himself. But if they became immoral or unruly, then he turned them away, for he said, "he that by his place ought to punish disorders in other people, must by no means suffer them in his own house." He advanced his servants according to the time they had been about him, and would never give occasion to envy amongst them, by raising the younger clerks above those who had been longer with him. He treated them all with great affection, rather as a friend, than a master, giving them often good advice and instruction. He made those who had good places under him, give some of their profits to the other servants, who had nothing but their wages. When he made his will, he left legacies to every one of them; but he expressed a more particular kindness for one of them, Robert Gibbon, of the Middle Temple, Esq. in whom he had that confidence, that he left him one of his executors. I the rather mention him, because of his noble gratitude to his worthy benefactor and master: for he has been so careful to preserve his memory, that as he set those on me, at whose desire I undertook to write his life, so he has procured for me a great part of those memorials and informations, out of which I have composed it.

The judge was of a most tender and compassionate nature. This did eminently appear in his G

VOL. VI.

trying

trying and giving sentence upon criminals, in which he was strictly careful, that not a circumstance should be neglected, which might any way clear the fact. He behaved himself with that regard to the prisoners, which became both the gravity of a judge, and the pity that was due to men, whose lives lay at stake, so that nothing of jearing or unreasonable severity fell from him. He also examined the witnesses in the softest manner, taking care that they should be put under no confusion, which might disorder their memory: and he summed all the evidence so equally when he charged the jury, that the criminals themselves never complained of him. When it came to him to give sentence, he did it with that composedness and decency, and his speeches to the prisoners, directing them to prepare for death, were so weighty, so free of all affectation, and so serious and devout, that many loved to go to the trials when he sate judge, to be edified by his speeches, and behaviour in them, and used to say, they heard very few such sermons."

But though the pronouncing the sentence of death, was the piece of his employment that went most against the grain with him; yet in that he could never be mollified to any tenderness which hindered justice. When he was once pressed to recommend some (whom he had condemned) to his majesty's mercy and pardon; he answered, "he could not think they deserved a pardon, whom he himself adjudged to die:" so that all he would do in that kind was to give the king a true account of the circumstances of the fact, after which, his majesty was to consider whether he would interpose his mercy, or let justice take place.

His mercifulness extended even to his beasts; for when the horses that he had kept long, grew

old,

old, he would not suffer them to be sold, or much wrought, but ordered his men to turn them loose on his grounds, and put them only to easy work, such as going to market and the like: he used old dogs also with the same care. His shepherd having one that was become blind with age, he intended to have killed or lost him, but the judge coming to hear of it, made one of his servants bring him home, and fed him till he died. And he was scarce ever seen more angry than with one of his servants for neglecting a bird that he kept, so that it died for want of food.

He was a great encourager of all young persons, that he saw followed their books diligently, to whom he used to give directions concerning the method of their study, with a humanity and sweetness, that wrought much on all that came near him: and in a smiling pleasant way, he would admonish them, if he saw any thing amiss in them: particularly if they went too fine in their clothes, he would tell them, "it did not become their profession." He was not pleased to see students wear long perriwigs, or attorneys go with swords; so that such young men as would not be persuaded to part with those vanities, when they went to him laid them aside, and went as plain as they could, to avoid the reproof which they knew they might otherwise expect.

He was very free and communicate in his discourse, which he most commonly fixed on some good and useful subject, and loved for an hour or two at night, to be visited by some of his friends. He neither said nor did any thing with affectation, but used a simplicity, that was both natural to himself, and very easy to others: and though he never studied the modes of civility, or court breeding, yet he knew not what it was to be rude or harsh with

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