Mr. J. Glanvil's FULL VINDICATION Of the Late Reverend, Pious, and Learned Mr. Richard Baxter.

THAT the great Enemy of Mankind may keep the greatest part of the World in Ig­norance, Bruitishness, and Sensuality, it hath been his peculiar sleight, either to blind and corrupt the minds of those who, by Office, and Profes­sion, are to oppose those Works of Darkness, or else to fasten some unjust Accusation upon those that in earnest set themselves to promote Piety, Virtue, and Holiness; and so, by prepossessing Mens minds with a false Opi­nion of their Persons, effectually bar the entrance a­gainst any of their never so Salutiferous Instructions. If after all he can but prevail with good people (who have still a vulnerable part) to believe or report any of these Accusations, he then sings his [...] Triumphe, and thinks himself secure of his Vassals, though they are at­tacqued with never such clear and convincing reason. Poh! thinks he, since those that once cryed him up are weary of him, and the very Brethren cry shame upon him, I do not doubt but I have influence enough over my Slaves, to perswade them to take the opinion of those that have tryed him, and never learn at their own expence, what the experience of others will teach them at an easier Rate. I wish we had not so sad, and late an Instance of the successful attempts of the great de­stroyer in this Nature. As there hath scarce been for many Ages a more Exemplary Pattern of Piety in the World, than the late Justly Renowned Mr. Baxter, nor a more zealous Recommender of it to others; so I think 'tis hard to instance in any, against whom the Pow­ers of Darkness have made a more manifest and vigo­rous opposition. But he charged thro' it all with an Un­shaken Resolution, and Invincible patience; and the strong and continual impression he had of his speedy ap­pearance before his Righteous Judge, enabled him to slight the unjust Judgments of Men, to whom he was neither to stand nor fall; nor could any of this tempt him to betray his Masters cause by sloath, or preva­rication.

Within a few Weeks last past, he hath been convey­ed safe out of this Noysie, Clamourous, and censorious World, into the Peaceful Regions above, where instead of the Reproaches and Accusations of the ignorant and envious, his Pious Labours meet with the kind appre­ [...]ation of his great Lord, and the universal applause of the Heavenly Choir. 'Tis not then so much out of kind­ness (tho' it be a Debt we all owe) to his memory, that we present you with this Vindication of him, his inno­cency being cleared up by the proper Judge of it; he nei­ther fears the Censures, nor wants the praises of those be­low. But 'tis, lest any, by a Preconceived Prejudice, should be diverted from reading those Books of his, by which so much Heavenly light, and life may be con­veyed into their Souls. Now whereas there are two things especially, (tho' contradictory each of the other) which were layed to this Reverend Gentlemans charge, by some who were equally enraged against him; tho' upon different Accounts; 'tis these two that I shall main­ly endeavour to enervate, passing by others of smaller Importance: While some accused him highly for Fac­tion and Schism, others fell foul upon him for Time-serv­ing, and Treacherous Compliance; For Confutation of the First Charge, I shall refer you to the Letter here sub­joyned (refering the answer to the other till another time.) I take this way of answering it, because most of those that accuse him of it, took not their measures of him, by any personal acquaintance with him, or indeed observation of their own; but because they heard it lay'd to his Charge, by those they had a value for; therefore the best way to confute them, is to show them, that the same thing is denied, and Mr. B. justified from the charge, by Men, whom they equally value. Mr. G— hath made himself deservedly Famous in the Common Wealth of Learning, and his abhorrence of Faction and Fanati­cism: he hath testified, not only by interspersed passa­ges, but whole Sermons and Books against it. So that I cann't see how any Man, that will acquit the one from the Charge, but he must acquit the other also, unless he have a very mean opinion of Mr. G—s, either Skill or Sincerity.

A Letter of Mr. Ioseph Glanvils (Chaplain in Ordinary to K. Charles II.) to Mr. Richard Baxter.

Reverend and most Honoured Sir,

I Have often taken my Pen in hand, with a design to signi­fie to you, how much I love and honour so much Learning, Piety, and exemplary Goodness, as you are owner of; And how passionately desirous I have been and am, to be known to a person with whom none hath a like place in my highest esteem and value: But my affections and respects still growing infinitely too big for mine expression, I thought I should but disparage them by going about to represent them. And when I [...] to consider, how I might most advantagiously set forth [...] sense of your great deserts, always [...] confounded with subject. And the thr [...]g of m [...]e affections, each of them impatient to be first upon [...] another's gratification Great [...]: And I find my self [...] with the [...] write suteably to the [Page] [...] for you, that I can scarce forbear throwing a­ [...] near concluding, that 'tis better to speak [...] in such a subject, than a little. But when I consi­der you as a person that have high affections for those excel­lent qualifications, which in the highest degree are your pos­session, and suteably resent the worth of those that own them; I am incouraged to think that you may conceive how I honour you (though my pen cannot tell it you) by reflecting upon your own estimate of those, that are of the highest form of learn­ing, parts, and exemplary piety; or, more compendiously, such in your judgment, as I take you for, Incomparable. And yet I have a jealousie that that will not reach it; for though I think your judicious esteem of such, cannot be sur­passed; yet I am apt to think, that none ever got such an in­terest and hold upon your passions, as hath the object of my admiration, on mine. Nor yet can I rebuke them as extrava­gant, though at the highest, since they take part with my se­verest judgment, and were indeed inflamed by it. And I profess I never found my self so dearly inclin'd to those of my nearest blood, or so affectionately concern'd for my most be­loved friends and acquaintance, as for you whom I had never the happiness to converse with but in your excellent writings, nor ever often saw, but in the Pulpit. Yea, I speak unfeig­nedly, I have always interessed my self more in your vindica­tion when your unreasonable prejudic'd enemies have malign'd you, and delighted my self more in your just praises from those that know you, than ever my self-love or ambition could prompt me to do in any case of mine own. Sir, I hope you be­lieve that I speak my most real sentiments, and do not go a­bout to complement you. For I must be very weak and in­considerate, did I think to recommend my self to so much seri­ous wisdom, by such childish fooleries. Therefore if my ex­pressions favour any thing above common respect, I beseech you to believe 'tis for that their cause is not common; but as much above ordinary, as their object. I know your humi­lity and remarkable self-denyal will not bear to read, what I cannot but speak, as often as I have occasion to mention your great worth, and merits. However I cannot chuse but here acknowledge, how much I am a debtor to your incompa­rable writings. In which, when you deal in practical sub­jects, I admire your affectionate, piercing, heart-affect­ing quickness: And that experimental, searching solid, con­victive way of speaking, which are your peculiars; for their is a smartness accompanying your pen that forces what you write into the heart, by a sweet kind of irresistable violence; which is so proper to your serious way, that I never met it e­qual'd in any other writings. And therefore I cannot read them without an elevation, and emotions which I seldom feel in other perusals. And when you are ingag'd in doctrinal and controversal matters, I no less apprehend in them your peculiar excellencies. I find a strength, depth, concinnity, and coherence in your notions, which are not commonly else­where met withal. And you have no less power by your triumphant reason upon the judgments of capable, free in­quirers; than you have upon their affections and consciences in your devotional and practical discourses. And methinks there is a force in your way of arguing, which overpowers opposition. Among your excellent Treatises of this nature, your Rational confirmation of that grand principle of our Religion, the Sacred Authority of Scripture; your solid de­pendent notions in the business of justification, & your striking at the Root of Antinomianism in them, which I look on as the canker of Christianity, and have always abhorr'd as the shaddow of death; and your excellent Catholick, healing in­deavoure; These, I say deserve from me particular acknow­ [...]. I profess the loose, impertinent, unsound, cobweb [...] of the most that I had met with in the Master of [...] Divine Authority of Scripture, had almost occasioned, [...]mbling at the threshold, in my inquiries into the [...] on an implicit faith in things of this moment. But your perfor­mance in this kind brought relief to my staggering judgment, and triumph't over my hesitancy. As they did also to an excellent person, a friend of mine, who was shaken on the same accounts that I was. And we are both no less ob­liged by what you have done in the other things foremention­ed. Which I profess I judge so rational, that I cannot but wonder, almost to stupor, to behold the fierce, though feeble onsets of your canker'd fiery opponents; whose writings against you (most of them) seem to me to be in­dited by nothing but spleen and choler. Nor have I been able to ascribe the ingaging of so many virulent pens a­gainst you, to, any other cause than the indeavours of Satan, hinder the success which your powerful pen hath had against the Dark Kingdom. And the spirit that I have perceiv'd to animate some of their wild ravings hath confirm'd me in that belief, that it was the great Abaddon that inspir'd their undertakings. I thought e're this to have given you a more publick specimen of mine affections, by indeavouring somewhat in your vindication against the calumnies, and fee­ble arguings of some of those fiery Assailants; But collate­rial occasions, and other studies have hitherto diverted me: Yet I shall not forget my obligations, assoon as I can be master of convenient time and oppertunities for the perfor­mance. But I see my paper warns me; And though I should please my self by a larger expression of my respects, and sense of your high deservings from every one that hath had the happiness to be taught by you, either from the press or pulpit; yet I dare not be so rude in this first Address, as to be troublesome and importunate. I know your occasions are such, as that they cannot bear a long divertisement. I had several times design'd at London to have taken the boldness to have wait­ed on you, but the consideration, how you were constantly in­gag'd in business, prevented the execution of those intenti­ons, And about three years since I came from Oxford on purpose to Kederminster, to see you there, and hear you preach; both which I was happy in. But you were then so busie in the company of several Ministers, that were at your house, that I could not gain an oppertunity of making way for a future acquaintance. If I were sure that you were less in­cumbred now, and that you made any considerable stay in the Country, I would make a journey on purpose to wait on you. I have with this, sent you a small Discourse of mine own, of which I desire your acceptance. For the subject and design I know it will not displease you. And for the manage­ment, I'm confident you will not quarrel with it, because it is not so popular as it might have been, when you shall know that 'twas intended for those of a Philosophick Genius. I durst not (Sir) be any longer troublesome, and therefore shall conclude with this profession, that the freedom of your spirit, the impartiality of your inquiries, the Catholickness of your judgment and affections, the peaceableness, and mo­deration of your principles, the generosity and publick spiri­tedness of your disposition, the exact, uniform holiness of your life, and your indefatigable industry for the good of souls, excellencies which I never knew so combin'd in one; have so endear'd you to me, that there is not that person breathing, that hath such a share in the affections, and highest value of.

Most excellent Sir,
One of the meanest, though most sincere, of your affectionate lovers, and admirers Joseph Glanvile.

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