To all who would have religious comfort in the distractions of
present events we especially recommend this incomparable divine's truly
devout and thoughtful pages. None of our authors have succeeded so well
in providing for our own wants. The sea of our political agitations
might become smooth under the well-beaten oil which he pours out. The
divisions made by the sword to-day would heal with the use of his
prescriptions. Human nature never grows old; and America, in her Civil
War, is the former England over again now.
Sticklers for a style of conventional dignity and smooth decorum may
think to despatch Fuller's claims by denominating him a quaint writer.
This would be what is vulgarly called a snap-judgment indeed. His
quaintness never runs into superficial conceit, but embodies always a
deep and comprehensive wisdom. He insinuates truth with a friendly
indirectness, and banters us out of our folly with a foreign instance.
Plutarch or Montaigne is not more happy in historical parallels, for
personal reflection and sober application to actual duty. Never was
fancy more alert in the service of piety. His imagination is as luminous
as Sir Thomas Browne's, and, if less peculiar and original in its
combinations, rises into identity with more child-like and lofty
worship.
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