N the year 1666 an opinion was very prevalent, and indeed spread through the length and

breadth of England, that the end of the world would come within that twelvemonth. The times were portentous, and astrologers and students of prophecy broached various opinions which probably assisted the natural propensity of mankind to foretell "the end of things created." Whether this were so or no, certain it is that the notion spread, and possessed to a surprising extent the minds of the people, both in the lower and upper ranks.

It chanced during that summer, while the assizes were being held in one of the towns of the western circuit, that a most terrific storm very suddenly arose. The court was then sitting, and the bench was occupied by Sir M. Hale, at that time Lord Chief Baron. An eminent barrister, who was present, has described the scene. All at once an awful darkness overspread the heavens;

vivid flashes of lightning at intervals irradiated every object in court with a lurid brilliancy startling and terrific. Loud peals of thunder rattled overhead, and the reverberation seemed to shake the very walls of the building. The effect on the assembled crowd was strange and fearful. A general consternation seized all, and each looked with eyes of alarm at his neighbour. Presently a whisper or rumour ran through the assembly that the dread moment had arrived, and the day of judgment was being ushered in by that fierce tumult of the elements! Every one, as by common consent, forgot the business in hand; the counsel rose from their seats, and the whole multitude, in a paroxysm of terror, betook themselves to their knees, and prayed for mercy, believing that "the great and terrible day of the Lord” was at hand.

What a scene must this have been! The narrator, a man of no ordinary resolution and firmness of mind, confessed that he was completely unnerved by it; but chancing to look towards the judicial bench, he perceived the judge unmoved, calm, and self-possessed amidst the general confusion. He continued taking his notes, as though all were proceeding in the usual routine, and by his countenance and deportment it was evident that his thoughts were perfectly composed. From this the barrister drew the conclusion that the great man whom he was observing had his heart so stayed upon God, that no surprise, however sudden, could discompose him; and "he verily believed that, if the world were then really to end, it would have given him no considerable disturbance."

The great and good man of whom we have a passing

glimpse thus given us, was one who, by common consent, cannot easily be rated above his true worth. All the judges and lawyers of England admired him for his skill in law and for his justice; scholars honoured him for his learning; and men of God rejoiced in beholding his reverence for divine things, and his pious and consistent deportment, amidst an age of tumult and changes. By a remarkable providence, he was early in life "startled into thoughtfulness" out of a course of folly and sin. He was born at Alderly in Gloucestershire, on the 1st November 1609, of parents in the middle rank of life. When he was only in his fifth year, he had the misfortune to lose both father and mother; and he became the ward of his kinsman, Mr. Kingscot, a gentleman of ancient family, and a strict Puritan. He was sent to school under the care of a pious clergyman, it being designed to bring him up for the Church; and, in consequence, religious impressions were early made on his mind which were never effaced, although for a time he yielded to the counsel of sinners, and walked in the paths of folly.

In his seventeenth year he was sent to the University, and entered the Magdalen Hall, Oxford, where, for a time, he made great proficiency in his studies. Simple in his attire and decorous in his habits, he was a diligent student, and very regular in his attendance, not only in chapel, but at prayer-meetings in private houses; till a strolling company of actors coming to Oxford, "he was so much corrupted by seeing many plays, that he almost wholly forsook his studies." Suddenly there seemed to be a complete transformation of his character. He became fond of fine clothes, took pleasure in gay company,

and being of a robust, powerful frame, he began to excel in all athletic exercises. He also learned fencing, and was soon so expert in handling his weapons that he excelled most of his comrades. We are told that although thus given to dissipation, he remained pure in morals, a strict observer of truth, and upright in all his conduct.

In consequence of this change, the young undergraduate gave up his desire of being a scholar and a divine, and turned his thoughts to soldiering. It chanced that the tutor of his college was going into the Low Countries as chaplain to the renowned Lord Vere, and Hale resolved that he would accompany him, and trail a pike in the army of the Prince of Orange. His friends tried to dissuade him from this enterprise, and advised him, if he felt disinclined to the Church, to follow the profession of his father, who had been brought up to the bar. But he answered

Providentially these idle and mischievous fancies were scattered by an unexpected series of events. Circumstances arose connected with a lawsuit, involving a part of his estate, which took him to London, and brought him into the society of Serjeant Glanville, an able lawyer, and a man of rare worth, who, discerning the admirable parts of his young client, especially his clearness of intellect and solid judgment, urged him to embrace the

study of the law. Happily this counsel was followed, and perhaps in no other profession could this great genius so well have served his generation. Baxter, the beloved divine, who, in after years, enjoyed the friendship of Judge Hale, owed his escape from the clutches of his enemies mainly to his testimony and that of the four judges of the Common Pleas, and he gratefully testified "how large a part of the honour of the government and the peace of the kingdom" consisted in the integrity and worth of those great counsellors of the crown. He adds that his lordship assured him he was fully persuaded by his own acquaintance with them, that "there were as many honest men among lawyers proportionally, as among any profession in England, not excepting divines."

On the 8th November, 1629, Mr. Hale was admitted a member of Lincoln's Inn, and, anxious to make amends for time already lost, he at once brought to bear upon his studies the whole energy of his powerful mind. So intense was his ardour that for a while he laboured at the rate of sixteen hours a day, laying down rules for himself which show that, amidst all his ardour for the acquisition of knowledge, he never forgot his religious duties. But it was some time before he entirely relinquished the company of his worldly associates, and he was in danger of being again drawn into his former idle courses. At length, going one day, with a company of young students to a merry-making at a village near London, one of their number went on drinking to such an excess that he was seized with a violent disorder and became insensible. For a time he was, to all appearance, dead. Appalled and conscience-stricken, Mr. Hale withdrew into a private room, and, closing the door, earnestly